Chapter 655
Namman was a sovereign land, separated from the Central Plains, and the Namman Beast Palace was its heart—its royal palace.
Naturally, the inner palace was vast.
Warriors, cooks, servants, beast tamers—when gathered, the total number of those residing within easily reached a thousand. And during a grand tribal conference like the current one, that number multiplied several times over.
But among all those people, only a few truly mattered: the four Great Chiefs.
They were the leaders of Namman’s four most powerful tribes—the pillars of the Beast Palace—and each possessed enough strength to one day become the next Palace Lord. Their authority was immense, and since ancient times, three of the four chiefs (excluding the current Palace Lord) had always been granted special privileges.
Swoosh!
As Yal Mok ran beside me, he explained,
“Except for my father, all other tribal chiefs must remain in their own domains and receive prior permission to enter the palace. But the Great Chiefs are different—they have permanent residence within the inner palace and may enter freely.”
East, West, South, and North.
The North had always been reserved for the reigning Palace Lord. The other three chiefs each established their own residences in the remaining directions.
It was, in essence, a noble estate—a palace within a palace. If translated into Central Plains terms, it was like the Emperor granting his vassal kings their own princely manors.
But at that moment—
What awaited me after the frantic dash was not splendor or order, but a sea of blood, shattered walls, and a courtyard filled with corpses.
“What the…”
Nam Ho’s low murmur reached my ears as my blood ran cold.
Above the broken gate hung a wooden plaque, half cracked but still legible:
West Yao Division (西瑤部).
Three characters that told me whose mansion this had been.
A familiar image flashed before my eyes—
A woman with a serpentine smile, her beauty laced with danger.
Yohee, the Great Chief of the Yao Tribe.
Beautiful wasn’t the right word for her. Seductive. Bewitching. Deadly. Those fit her better.
I didn’t know yet whether she was behind tonight’s attack, but two things were certain—
Her once luxurious mansion was now drenched in blood.
And she herself… had vanished without a trace.
Step.
Crossing the ruined gate, I saw the ground littered with human and beast corpses.
Once colorful flowerbeds had turned crimson with blood.
“…Shit.”
I couldn’t hold back the curse that escaped my lips.
Just then, one of the warriors who had accompanied Yal Mok approached us.
“You’re here, Young Palace Lord.”
Yal Mok nodded stiffly.
“Good work. Any new findings?”
“None, sir. Other than an increase in bodies.”
His grim voice was followed by a scene that made my stomach sink—
More corpses, lined neatly side by side.
Not far away, several warriors were pulling a half-submerged tiger carcass from a well.
“As of now, including the Yao Tribe warriors and their beasts, the death count exceeds one hundred.”
“Any survivors?”
The warrior hesitated before answering.
“…None, sir.”
“None… for now,” he said—but I knew better.
I crouched near the bodies, ignoring the warrior who instinctively moved to block me. He flinched when our eyes met and stepped aside.
I examined the wounds one by one.
How had they fought? How had they died?
Then, realization hit.
“Did you find something?” Yal Mok asked.
I felt the stares of everyone around us as I spoke.
“Aura.”
A ripple of unease spread.
“The killer’s qi was refined—Transcendent Realm. Most of these people didn’t even sense the attack before dying. The skill gap was enormous.”
Transcendents—beings beyond human.
Only a handful in the entire world ever reached that level.
With a single swing, such a master could slaughter dozens of first-rate warriors. Barehanded, they could massacre ten peak masters at once.
Tonight’s killer was one of them.
Every strike—clean, efficient, lethal.
Not excessive, not wasteful. The work of someone who had perfected the art of killing.
Only a transcendent could butcher over a hundred warriors and beasts in mere moments.
The implication was clear.
Yal Mok’s voice reached my mind through sound transmission.
—“Are you saying… this was Baeksang’s doing?”
I met his gaze.
—“Not necessarily.”
—“What do you mean, not necessarily?”
—“There are only two people in Namman capable of such power. One is Baeksang… and the other is someone every Namman native knows well.”
Yal Mok’s face went pale.
He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood.
—“You’re not implying… Father…?”
—“No. But if things keep pointing this way, the conclusion will be too obvious. It’s certain that Dark Heaven was directly involved. Even if I suspect Baeksang, he’s not stupid enough to risk open exposure. They must’ve brought in an outside transcendent from their ranks.”
‘So they’ve finally stopped watching from afar and made their move directly…’
But to what end?
“Let’s move,” I said aloud. “I want to confirm something.”
At my words, Yal Mok gestured subtly, dismissing the others.
Only the three of us remained—Yal Mok, Nam Ho, and I—as we entered the central pavilion of the mansion.
Inside, chaos reigned. The elegant chamber had been torn apart, as if a storm had ripped through.
“Looks like one hell of a fight,” Nam Ho muttered.
Yal Mok nodded grimly.
“But it ended in seconds. Against a transcendent, that’s all it would take.”
“How do you know?” Nam Ho asked.
“I heard it—a brief but unmistakable roar of power. By the time I arrived, everything was already over. All that was left were blood, corpses, and…”
He pushed open a large sliding door.
“…these.”
Two items lay on the floor.
A silk sachet, and beside it, something far grimmer.
Nam Ho’s face darkened instantly.
I stepped forward and picked it up.
Cold. Wet. Sticky.
‘This is…’
Anyone with eyes would recognize it immediately.
A severed wrist.
“Can you tell whose it is?” Yal Mok asked quietly.
I stared at the thick, muscular arm for a long moment before replying,
“…Likely Heukung’s.”
Yal Mok nodded heavily.
“Confirmed. He left with four guards to visit Chief Yohee. The Eastern Division verified it.”
If Yohee ruled the Western Yao Division, then Heukung, leading the Yi Tribe, governed the Eastern Yi Division.
I placed the severed wrist back down.
“When was this?”
“Not more than half an hour ago. Maybe closer to one full shichen. Right after you parted ways with him.”
So he went straight from our meeting to her mansion.
‘That reckless bastard couldn’t sit still for even a moment…’
I clenched my jaw to stifle the curse rising in my throat.
Calm. I needed to stay calm.
“His guards?”
“All dead. Alongside the Yao warriors.”
Of course. Damn it.
I exhaled slowly and surveyed the room.
The interior was ruined, but traces of struggle were clear.
Walls shattered from powerful impacts—beyond them, I glimpsed the rear garden, miraculously untouched except for faint footprints in the dirt.
‘He struck swiftly, subdued them both, and escaped through the garden.’
The footprints were too faint to identify, but one thing was clear:
Neither Yohee nor Heukung had staged this themselves.
A third party had intervened.
Half an hour ago, there had been at least three people here—
One of them, undoubtedly, a transcendent master.
‘But who? Southern Demon Queen? Or one of Dark Heaven’s elite assassins?’
I quickly dismissed both. Not enough evidence.
Even with Nam Ho beside me—an agent of Silent Heaven Pavilion, a man who had seen countless records—there wasn’t enough to go on.
‘We need someone who understands both martial arts and human nature at the highest level…’
Two names surfaced in my mind, and I trusted neither fully.
I turned to Yal Mok.
“When is the Palace Lord arriving?”
“I’ve already sent word. He should be on his way with the other chiefs.”
That was something, at least.
I replaced Heukung’s wrist carefully, then lifted the sachet Yohee had left behind. The torn silk carried a faint, nearly odorless fragrance—barely lingering, but familiar.
‘I’ll find the truth. No matter what.’
Just then—
Noise erupted outside the pavilion.
“They’re here. Father will identify the culprit himself.”
But before we even reached the door, I realized Yal Mok was wrong.
The first to arrive wasn’t the Beast King.
And the one standing outside wasn’t someone I’d expected at all.
A cold, flat voice echoed through the hall.
“So the criminal walks out of his den on his own.”
Baeksang.
The moment I heard his voice, I understood—
There weren’t only two transcendents in Namman.
There was a third.