Chapter 663

“That day, your kind taught me which path I had to walk.”

With those words, spat out like venom, Baek Sang’s long but not endless story came to an end.
I silently met his cold, gleaming eyes.

What did I want to say to him?
Honestly… I didn’t know.

The man standing before me in his spotless white robes was someone who had lived in an abyss I couldn’t even begin to imagine.
He had fought for righteousness, only to be betrayed.
He had lost the child he cherished more than life itself.

There could only have been one thing that kept him alive all these years.

‘Revenge.’

Baek Sang wasn’t wrong.
The Central Plains had shone a torch of cold betrayal into the darkness that had swallowed him after losing his only son—and that was how he found the only path left to him.

The path of vengeance.

He had walked through thorns of pain and fury to reach this point.
And as I looked at him now, a memory surfaced—of someone I once knew.

“…The Great Elder.”

A whisper slipped out before I realized it. Baek Sang’s eyes flickered with curiosity as I smacked my lips and spoke again.

“It’s nothing. Just that seeing you reminded me of someone.”

“For what reason?”

“That guy was as much of an idiot as you. A puppet dancing on Dark Heaven’s strings.”

“What?”

“But I could understand him. He had his reasons too.”

“…He was betrayed, wasn’t he.”

“Yeah. By his own blood.”

Baek Sang looked down at me silently, then asked,

“What became of him?”

“I killed him. With my own hands.”

He flinched.

“He was a senior of my clan, but there was no other choice. Everything had gone too far.”

“Do you mean to condemn me?”

I chuckled faintly.

Condemn him? What would that change now?

“Empty words do nothing. You can’t stop someone like you with that. That was the same reason I strangled the Great Elder with my own hands.”

That’s the fate of those consumed by vengeance.

They take a path they never wished to walk—and lose themselves along the way.
Like moths flying into a flame, seeing only the light of revenge ahead.

“After killing him, I had this thought. If it had been me and the Taewon Jin Clan who lost that day… would he have finally been happy after his revenge?”

“That’s…”

“Probably not. He lived for revenge, but eventually that anger dulled—and seeing the innocent suffer, he must have felt guilt.”

I didn’t wait for an answer.

“Just like you do now.”

I met Baek Sang’s twisted expression with a calm gaze.

“I can’t claim to understand you. I haven’t gone through what you have, nor burned with vengeance for decades. But I can acknowledge this much—your hatred toward the Central Plains and the Han is justified.”

“…Justified?”

Baek Sang asked stiffly, clearly not expecting that response.
But every word I said was sincere.

“Yeah. I would’ve done the same. No—if I were you, I might’ve turned all of the Central Plains into my enemy.”

I remembered that day I headed to the Ares Guild.
I was alone, yet not once did I hesitate with each step I took.

It wasn’t because I was strong.
It was because I was genuinely furious over Kim Hwajong’s death.

And so I destroyed the Ares Guild.

If Jin Taekyung were Baek Sang, he would’ve fought to destroy the Central Plains itself.

But…

“Tell me, is your anger also justified for the people of the Southern Barbarians who still live here?”

“…”

“Sure, some might understand you. But what about the victims who died as a result of your alliance with Dark Heaven? What about their families? Their lovers? Their friends?”

Baek Sang’s whole body shook. I went on, my tone steady.

“When I first arrived in the Southern Barbarians, I heard something. A Miao tribe village had been massacred by Han warriors—men, women, children, all a hundred of them. And the Han who killed them? They died too, poisoned in revenge.”

Being locked alone in this dungeon meant I had plenty of time to think.
And after retracing everything that had happened so far, I was sure.

“It never made sense. Even if it was a battle, how could ‘no one’ survive from either side?”

That was no coincidence.
It was a calculated plan from the start—to wipe out a Miao tribe village and ignite hatred toward the Han across the entire Southern Barbarian land.

“And it didn’t stop there. There were the Thousand-Year Serpents that suddenly left the Poison-Blooded Land, and the incident in the Western Yao region. Add the Miao tribe massacre, and the death toll exceeds three hundred.”

All of that had happened in just seven days since I arrived in the Beast Miao Palace.

A mere week—nothing compared to the decades Baek Sang had lived as a revenant of vengeance.

But what was even more terrifying was what was still to come.

To complete his vengeance, war with the Central Plains wasn’t coincidence—it was destiny.

“How much more blood do you plan to spill, Baek Sang?”

Step. Step.

Every footstep splashed the filthy water pooled on the dungeon floor.

But the man walking didn’t seem to care that his pristine white robes were being stained.
Or maybe he simply didn’t notice—lost in his own thoughts.

Step…

Then he stopped.

Halfway across the cell, Baek Sang turned his head slightly over his shoulder.

Dark. Cold. Silent.

Just like the path he had walked all his life.
And just like the path the man trapped behind the bars—Jin Taekyung—would have to walk.

But Jin Taekyung would not walk the same path.

Only two days remained before his public execution.
Unlike Baek Sang, who had trudged through decades of hatred, Jin Taekyung’s road was short—and painfully clear.

‘It’s already over. He won’t escape.’

Baek Sang knew well how strong Jin Taekyung was.
Among all the great sects of the Central Plains, he stood out as a transcendent martial master.

Even though Baek Sang hadn’t fought at full strength, he had sensed it instantly during their brief exchange of blows days ago.

Half a level above him—no, perhaps a full level.

Jin Taekyung was a monster beyond imagination.

But with his internal energy sealed and his body bound by iron chains heavy as a mountain, even if his master, the Fire King, appeared—it wouldn’t change his fate.

And worse than those chains was another restraint.

‘The Han under his command.’

Jin Taekyung valued his people.
That was why he surrendered himself instead of fleeing, choosing imprisonment over their deaths.

How foolish.

To Baek Sang, the greatest weakness of that monster was his compassion—humanity.

It was what made him less like a martial artist… and more like a man.

And it was the same thing Baek Sang had once desperately longed for on that snowy day at Mount Daxueshan—when the snow turned red with blood.

‘Come to think of it… Hwi was about his age back then.’

Baek Sang’s empty eyes drifted upward.
In the darkness, he saw a face.

From infant to boy, boy to man—upright, bright, and shining just like his name, Hwi.

The only son he would never see again.

Crack.

His fist clenched before he realized it. His neatly trimmed nails dug into his palm, drawing blood.

Drip. Drip.

His gaze fell to the filthy water below. Red droplets spread, rippling outward.

Each ripple seemed to sketch a face.

‘How much more blood will you spill, Baek Sang?’

Jin Taekyung’s words echoed endlessly in his mind.
But Baek Sang’s answer—then and now—remained the same.

‘I’ve already crossed the river. A river one cannot cross twice.’

He had crossed that river long ago.

Driven half-mad by despair and rage, Baek Sang once met a mysterious woman—beautiful, and even more seductive in her offer.

A proposal he could not refuse.

“Choose,” she had said. “And it shall be granted.”

He hadn’t hesitated.

Given a purpose again, he took her hand willingly—and never once regretted it.
No, he couldn’t afford to regret it.

‘But why now…?’

With the culmination of decades of vengeance within reach, why was he wavering?

Clenching his teeth, Baek Sang swallowed the voice that tried to escape his throat.
He looked down at his soiled boots and robes that no longer deserved to be called white.

‘In two days… it will all end. Everything.’

Blood spread beneath his feet, staining the stagnant water red.

Just like the path he had walked.
And just like the one he would continue to walk.

Splash.

Baek Sang stomped forward, resuming his steps through the dark cell.

In the silence where no one else spoke, Jin Taekyung’s voice still echoed faintly in his ears.

—

Baek Sang was gone. I was alone again.

My whole body, bound by heavy chains and iron weights, had gone stiff.

‘Damn it.’

Now that he’d left, I almost missed him.
Maybe I should’ve begged for my life. But no—I didn’t regret it. I’d said everything I wanted to say.

Begging would’ve changed nothing.

Baek Sang was a man who lived for one thing only—revenge.
No sob story from me would’ve made him tear up like some old lady watching a sad documentary.

Of course, that didn’t mean I planned to just sit and wait for death in two days.

‘What am I, crazy? I’m going to live.’

I meant what I said about understanding his anger.
But that didn’t mean I deserved to die for it.

To me, both the Great Elder and Baek Sang were just tragic fools—each with their own story.

And I’d come all the way to this godforsaken land to stop the newest fool from destroying everything.

‘Now the question is… how the hell do I get out of here?’

After all that talking and thinking, my throat was dry.

Just as I swallowed hard, something cold touched the top of my head.

Drip.

“Huh?”

Water.
It stank, tasted awful—but water was water.
Must’ve been from when Baek Sang smashed the place earlier.

‘This could be useful.’

Muttering to myself, I tilted my head back toward the ceiling.

And in that moment—through the cracked opening above—I locked eyes with someone unexpected.

Large, clear eyes—like those of a calf.

“…You. Why are you up there?”

The owner of the eyes replied.

“Taesan. Hungry. Ate too much. Got locked in dungeon.”

“…Ah.”

That made sense.