At Iwha Manor’s training ground, the usually relaxed Death Shadow Corps warriors stood in solemn formation.
Step, step.
As Bu Eunseol appeared, they straightened like blades.
“The Beggar Sect’s elite unit will soon attack,” his low voice echoed. “The Beggar Corps, among their finest.”
Black Leopard, on Bu Eunseol’s orders, had connected with Kaifeng’s black gangs, receiving intelligence that the Beggar Sect had uncovered the Death Shadow Corps’s identity at Iwha Manor and that the Beggar Corps was coming to raid.
“The Beggar Corps is battle-hardened, trained in the sect’s killing arts,” Bu Eunseol said.
The warriors’ expressions didn’t waver. They’d carried out his orders at the cost of their lives, learning that fighting strong foes, though dangerous, was a chance to grow.
“They number three hundred,” Bu Eunseol continued. “Elite masters with supreme skills and vast combat experience.”
Normally, avoiding such an ambush would be wise. But none moved. Instead, their eyes blazed with determination.
Thirty against three hundred, yet their morale remained unshaken.
“They’ll surround Iwha Manor and attack from all sides,” Bu Eunseol said solemnly. “Eliminate them cleanly.” A commanding force radiated from his eyes. “Make the Death Shadow Corps’s name shake the martial world!”
“Yes, sir!” the warriors, usually casual, shouted in unison, instinctively sensing the need for strict discipline.
Whoosh!
A sound of rustling clothes echoed from the distant sky. Warriors in tattered clothing arrived, descending before Iwha Manor.
All had mastered Divine Buddha Palm and Staff Flower Technique to the eighth level, excelling in group combat—the Beggar Corps.
Standing casually, as if on a stroll, they differed from typical sects that used formations.
Except when using Dog-Beating Formation Formation, the Beggar Sect overwhelmed with numbers: ten against one, a hundred against ten.
Proving this, three hundred masters surrounded Iwha Manor.
Tap.
As they encircled the manor, a figure with a steel staff descended before the gate.
A middle-aged man in patched clothes, it was Lee Simhwa, leader of the Beggar Corps, nicknamed Sword-Come-Clap-Laugh.
His name meant laughing and clapping at an incoming sword, reflecting his love for battle, evident in the scars covering his face and arms.
Step, step.
As the Beggar Corps prepared, Bu Eunseol and the Death Shadow Corps emerged.
“Well, it seems our intelligence was compromised,” Lee Simhwa said, noting their calm expressions despite being surrounded. “You must be the Death Shadow Corps Leader.”
A seasoned warrior, he instantly recognized Bu Eunseol as the leader. “Quite young. Your eyes are sharp.” Sighing, he frowned. “Why provoke our sect? As a Demon Sect leader at your age, you’ve got nothing to envy.”
“Curious?” Bu Eunseol asked, gazing coldly at him. “I’ll tell you after wiping you all out.”
“Haha,” Lee Simhwa laughed lowly, his eyes glinting with killing intent. “Confident.”
Shaking his head, he shouted, “Kill!”
The Beggar Corps charged with a loud cry, like waves swallowing a sandcastle.
Strangely, the Death Shadow Corps Leader stood still, not joining the fight, watching with a faint smile.
Clang! Clash!
As the Death Shadow Corps and Beggar Corps collided, metallic sounds rang out. Skilled in oppressing smaller groups, the Beggar Corps attacked seamlessly despite allies nearby.
But the Death Shadow Corps was equally adept at facing larger forces.
The third team, trained in Black Poison Demon Art, was impervious to blades, blocking attacks and disrupting the Corps’ formation with brute strength. The second team used lightning-fast movement to launch hidden weapons, breaking the Corps’ assault.
The first team, at the center, wielded superior sword and saber techniques, advancing and retreating to cut down Beggar Sect members.
“Argh!” “Ugh!” Screams came from the Beggar Sect’s side.
Lee Simhwa’s eyes widened. The Death Shadow Corps’s prowess far exceeded a third-tier unit.
Masters with terrifying skills mixed among them tilted the battle uncontrollably. One wielded strange silver threads frantically, another used two whips over three paces long, and another unleashed palm strikes rivaling Soaring Dragon Eighteen Palms.
Lightning-fast warriors launched daggers and hidden weapons, disrupting the Corps’ attacks.
“How…” Lee Simhwa muttered, eyes wide. “A mere third-tier unit is this strong?”
Intelligence suggested the Death Shadow Corps was newly formed, easily overwhelmed. Yet their formation crumbled as thirty masters pressured three hundred.
“Was the intelligence wrong?” Lee Simhwa’s eyes dimmed, as if trapped in a waking nightmare.
“Wait…” He realized he knew little about the Corps Leader—how such a young man became a third-tier leader or why the Death Shadow Corps was formed.
‘Too hasty.’ He’d underestimated a mere Demon Sect unit, thinking it’d be easily crushed.
“Ugh!” “Argh!” Screams continued as blood sprayed with each weapon clash.
The battle’s outcome was swift.
In just half an hour, the Death Shadow Corps and Bu Eunseol’s group decimated over half the Beggar Corps.
‘We’ll be annihilated.’ Lee Simhwa’s eyes widened. The Corps always overwhelmed with numbers, but now faced an opponent immune to such tactics.
“Retreat!” he shouted, but retreat was difficult.
The Death Shadow Corps’s swift warriors blocked escape routes with hidden weapons.
“Everyone, retreat!” Lee Simhwa stepped into the fray with his staff to hold them off.
“Let them through,” Bu Eunseol commanded loudly. “No need to wipe out these beggars completely.”
Though half the Corps was dead, the Death Shadow Corps was also battered. Having secured a decisive victory, there was no need to risk further losses.
“Don’t just leave,” Bu Eunseol said, approaching Lee Simhwa with hands behind his back. “Clean up your sect’s corpses. Leaving them here would bring more shame.”
What could a defeated leader say?
Lee Simhwa bit his lip and nodded. “Understood.”
***
Haepung’s eyes widened at the shocking news.
The invincible Beggar Corps, defeated by just thirty masters?
The Death Shadow Corps wasn’t a third-tier unit, then. But Jeong Sam’s next words made him doubt his ears.
“The Death Shadow Corps Leader was a former Ten Demon Warrior of Nangyang who defeated multiple Martial Alliance masters?” Haepung stared at Jeong Sam as if seeing a ghost. “And he’s Nangyang’s legitimate heir, now a candidate for Majeon’s successor?”
“Yes,” Jeong Sam said, sweating. “According to our intelligence…”
Using the Beggar Sect’s network, he explained: the Death Shadow Corps Leader, a former Ten Demon Warrior who crushed Martial Alliance masters, was a top candidate to succeed Majeon’s leader, Heavenly Demon.
A successor candidate wasn’t a title won lightly—it required vast influence to convince the Ten Demonic Sects, Majeon, and the Elder Council.
“I can’t comprehend it,” Haepung said, shaking his head. “Why would a Demon Sect successor candidate provoke us?”
A candidate should be busy eliminating rivals, not stirring up the Beggar Sect.
“Well…” Jeong Sam hesitated. “He publicly declared he’ll kill the Supreme Elder.”
“What?” Haepung’s jaw dropped, incredulous.
A newly risen Demon Sect candidate aimed to kill Supreme Elder Gu Hongcheong, one of the Four Gods and Seven Kings?
“He’s mad,” Haepung said, frowning. “Is the Death Shadow Corps here to face the Supreme Elder?”
“No, he plans to face him alone.”
“What?”
“It’s said his mission as a successor candidate is to kill one of the Four Gods and Seven Kings.”
“Alone against the Supreme Elder?” Haepung laughed in disbelief. “He’s desperate to die.”
Though Gu Hongcheong ranked lowest among the Four Gods and Seven Kings, he wasn’t someone a young upstart could defeat.
“It’s likely tied to the death of Seong Ryun, a former disciple,” Jeong Sam said.
“What’s that?”
“Though the Supreme Elder remains silent, rumors say he killed Nangyang masters when Seong Ryun died.”
“So he’s targeting our intelligence network because of the Supreme Elder?”
“Yes. He’s likely trying to draw him out.”
“Hm.” Haepung let out a low groan.
Known as Geul Wang, Gu Hongcheong wandered the martial world aimlessly but secretly ran his own intelligence network, hiding his movements.
“We shouldn’t get involved,” Jeong Sam said cautiously. “Once word spreads, the Supreme Elder will appear and kill that insolent demon.”
“Absolutely not,” Haepung said firmly. “The Supreme Elder must not hear of this.” His expression grew grave. “If he gets involved, it could repeat past mistakes.”
“I see,” Jeong Sam sighed, nodding.
Gu Hongcheong wasn’t content as Supreme Elder.
With Sect Leader Nobong ill, his ambitions were clear. If Haepung and the Eight Paths’ leaders hadn’t restrained him, the Beggar Sect would already be under his control.
“We can’t let him be,” Jeong Sam said. “He’ll scheme endlessly to face the Supreme Elder, causing endless trouble.”
“A solo duel, huh?” Haepung nodded, thoughtful. “If he wants a duel, there’s a good way.”
“How?”
“The Ten Demon Warrior defeated Song Ak, a Martial Alliance master, right?”
Haepung said quietly, “Shaolin should’ve handled it, but Wudang preempted them. Shaolin was displeased when Song Ak lost.” He smiled faintly. “Shaolin’s been searching for that Ten Demon Warrior,”
Jeong Sam gasped as Haepung’s eyes gleamed in the darkness. “Inform Shaolin.”
He paused. “The Ten Demon Warrior they’ve been seeking is at Iwha Manor.”
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