Bu Eunseol’s body trembled like a lone boat caught in a storm. Yet, the black sword in his hand thrashed like a salmon swimming upstream, piercing through the vulnerabilities of the great blade.
“Ugh!” As the black sword, which he had expected to clash with the great blade, suddenly thrust out from his side, Pang-ak gritted his teeth.
“Do you think such petty tricks will work forever?!”
Papapapap!
Tilting his blade slightly, he unleashed three consecutive techniques of his saber art in a single breath. This time, he hadn’t infused his strikes with the power of the Absorbing Force Technique.
‘I’ve been waiting for this!’ As Pang-ak swung his saber like an enraged bull, Bu Eunseol charged forward to meet him.
Swish!
As close-quarters combat began, Pang-ak’s great blade erupted like fireworks, scattering saber techniques in all directions.
‘Here it comes!’
Hwarrr.
It seemed as though a red haze rose from the black sword in Bu Eunseol’s grip. At the same time, the tip of the sword began to tremble faintly, giving the illusion that flames were spreading across the blade.
“Take this!” With a thunderous shout, Pang-ak’s great blade cleaved through the air.
It was the ultimate technique of the Five Tigers Gate-Severing Blade Art, a single, lethal strike that condensed the essence of the art—Five Tigers Severing Heaven.
Pururut. Paaah!
The shadow of the black sword and the radiance of the great blade filled the space between heaven and earth without leaving a gap.
Kwauuuu…
As the shadows of sword and saber vanished as if washed away, Bu Eunseol, kneeling on one knee, spat out a clot of blood.
“Urgh.” Bu Eunseol’s face was as pale as if dusted with flour, his body marked with large and small sword wounds.
In contrast, Pang-ak stood unscathed, holding his saber in a majestic, lion-like stance, calm and composed.
“What kind of swordsmanship is this?” At Pang-ak’s question, Bu Eunseol wiped the blood from his mouth and spoke in a low voice.
“The First Form of the Hwa Wu Sword, Formless Mystery.”
“Formless Mystery… I know it as a purely defensive technique.”
“Among the hundreds of sword blades that enveloped my body, I merely let one slip outward.”
“Are you not afraid of death?” Even for a grandmaster of martial arts, altering a technique passed down through generations is no easy feat.
To block Pang-ak’s Five Tigers Severing Heaven and counterattack, Bu Eunseol had no choice but to let the fiery raindrops of Formless Mystery fall upon himself as well.
“If I feared death, I would never have picked up a sword.” At Bu Eunseol’s resolute words, Pang-ak looked up at the sky in frustration. “Heavens! Why have you bestowed such talent upon a demon…” His muttering, as if spitting blood, gradually faded.
Thud.
Finally, Pang-ak collapsed face-first into the ground. Pang-ak, master of the Five Tigers Gate-Severing Blade Art. He sought to “hunt” talented prodigies, while Bu Eunseol fought to take the lives of his enemies. In the end, it was this difference that determined their life and death.
“Ptoo.” Spitting out another clot of blood, Bu Eunseol used his black sword as a crutch to stand. “Huff. Hoo.” Suffering from internal injuries, Bu Eunseol was in such agony that his qi and blood were tangled, making it nearly impossible to breathe.
‘Grandfather! I can’t stand it anymore!’ When he had free time, Bu Eunseol would play the “corpse game” with Bu Zhanyang. The corpse game involved enduring for as long as possible inside an empty coffin. However, Bu Eunseol couldn’t last even half an hour in the stifling, airless coffin.
“It’s so suffocating, I feel like I’m going to die!” As Bu Eunseol burst out of the coffin, Bu Zhanyang laughed heartily and pinched his cheek.
“You rascal! Do you think just anyone can play the corpse game? You need to master breathing techniques to do it.”
“Breathing techniques?”
“That’s right. Once you master this breathing technique, not only can you breathe for a long time with little air, but your body will grow stronger too!” Bu Zhanyang taught Bu Eunseol a breathing technique that allowed him to endure longer in the coffin.
This technique not only enabled him to last longer in confined spaces but also relieved fatigue as if he had slept a full day after just half an hour of practice.
“Make sure to practice this breathing technique for at least an hour every day, got it?”
“Yes!” From then on, Bu Eunseol diligently practiced the breathing technique, especially determined to beat his grandfather at the corpse game. But as time passed, the number of corpses piled up, and the wet shrouds never had a chance to dry. Though he continued practicing the breathing technique, he had recently forgotten to keep up with it.
“Ugh.” But as his insides twisted and his breath grew short, he instinctively turned to the breathing technique Bu Zhanyang had taught him.
“Hoo, hoo.” The breathing technique was unique—it could be practiced not only while sitting calmly but also while lying down or standing. Staggering as he surveyed his surroundings, Bu Eunseol spotted a mountain path covered in vines and bushes. Hiding himself there and closing his eyes, he gripped his sword, remaining vigilant of his surroundings while continuing the breathing technique.
Chirp chirp chirp.
Lost in a trance-like state, Bu Eunseol snapped back to reality at the sound of birds.
“What?” He had fought Pang-ak at dusk, but upon opening his eyes, morning had dawned.
He had been standing, sword in hand, for about four hours.
“I’m healed.” The shortness of breath and the searing pain in his veins and organs were gone.
Even the fatigue had vanished, leaving him refreshed as if he had slept a full day.
“I never felt this before.” Back in peaceful times, he hadn’t fully appreciated the breathing technique’s effects.
But in the midst of extreme fatigue, tension, and internal injuries, he could clearly feel its power.
“Now… just a little more.” Looking at the cloudless sky, Bu Eunseol could sense it.
The Third Trial was almost over. And from now on, even stronger enemies would appear.
***
Ten days had passed since the Third Trial began.
By now, most of the less skilled had been killed, and the survivors were divided into hunters and the hunted. Those with exceptional skills who didn’t form groups became prey for those who did.
“Ugh.” A boy groaned as a poisoned needle pierced the back of his hand.
Pat.
He quickly pulled out the needle, but the poison had already caused his fingers and hand to swell rapidly.
His name was Seo Jinha. A disciple of the prestigious Gold Valley Blood Sect, a prodigy of swordsmanship since childhood. By age ten, he had achieved the unity of sword and body, and by fifteen, he had no equal among his peers. With sharp observation and insight, he had detected spies from the righteous factions upon arriving at Hell Island and dealt with them. Yet even Seo Jinha couldn’t escape the relentless attacks of organized groups.
“You’re out of luck.” One of the five boys surrounding Seo Jinha smirked. “Once struck by the special poisoned needle of our Hell Blood Fortress, you’ll die soon without an antidote.” They were all trainees of the Hell Blood Fortress, wielding astonishing assassination techniques and poison arts.
“Hmph.” Snorting coldly, Seo Jinha switched his sword from his right hand to his left.
“You use a left-handed sword too?” one of the boys sneered. “No matter how talented you are, someone who uses a right-handed sword can’t suddenly master a left-handed one!” As if the shout were a signal, the five boys surrounding Seo Jinha began to spin rapidly.
It was the Hell Blood Fortress’s Blood Net Formation, inescapable unless all its prisoners were killed.
Charararang.
A metallic sound rang out as dozens of poisoned projectiles poured down like a torrential rain.
Tararang!
Seo Jinha swung his iron sword, deflecting the projectiles in succession, but his unnatural left-handed grip limited his swordsmanship. As the boys spun dizzyingly, showering him with projectiles, Seo Jinha’s sword techniques faltered.
Papak.
Another projectile struck his right hand, causing his fingers to swell painfully as nausea surged.
“This is the end!” As the five boys cheered, preparing to unleash more projectiles—
“Aaagh!” A piercing scream echoed through the forest.
One of the boys spinning in the formation suddenly collapsed. Someone was breaking the formation from the outside.
“You…!” Seo Jinha couldn’t hide his astonishment.
The one dismantling the Hell Blood Fortress’s formation and cutting down its trainees was none other than Bu Eunseol.
“Aaagh.” The Hell Blood Fortress’s formation was sturdy but vulnerable to external attacks.
In an instant, Bu Eunseol slew all five boys and sheathed his black sword behind his back.
“Hm.” He searched the fallen bodies one by one, pulling a leather pouch from one boy’s chest. “Is this the antidote?” Except for masters who could freely manipulate poison, everyone carried the antidote to their own poison.
Knowing this, Bu Eunseol had searched their bodies.
“You’re not giving it to me?” As Bu Eunseol pocketed the antidote and turned to leave, Seo Jinha wore a baffled expression.
“Can’t you see my hand?”
“You need the antidote?” Bu Eunseol’s eyes were cold and still.
Seo Jinha frowned but quickly adjusted his expression. He instinctively knew that if he shouted “Forget it!” Bu Eunseol would walk away without hesitation.
“I need it.” Answering with a desperate look, Bu Eunseol nodded.
“I see.” Pointing to the opposite path, he said, “I saw someone who looked like a Hell Blood Fortress trainee near the southern coast earlier. Find him.”
“What?” Seo Jinha shouted in disbelief. “This poison will render my hand useless in less than half an hour. And you’re telling me to go to the southern coast to find an antidote?”
“Exactly.”
“You’re just going to watch me die?”
“You’re misunderstanding something.” Bu Eunseol looked at Seo Jinha with icy eyes. “I came here to kill everyone, including you.”
“W-What?”
“But I don’t have a hobby of killing the dying. That’s why I’m leaving.” Only then did Seo Jinha realize.
Bu Eunseol was terrifyingly cold, but not cruel, which was why he was sparing him.
“I misunderstood.” Seo Jinha had to admit it.
By not killing him immediately, Bu Eunseol had already shown considerable mercy.
“Good that you understand.”
“Wait.” Deep in thought, Seo Jinha hurriedly spoke. “Right now, including you and me, there are around twenty people left.”
“What?”
“Among them, you and I are the only ones not in a group. In other words, we’re their top-priority prey.” As Bu Eunseol turned his gaze, Seo Jinha continued slowly. “Since it’s come to this, we should form a group too.”
“We?”
“Yes.”
“Why should I team up with you?” At Bu Eunseol’s question, Seo Jinha looked down at his paralyzed right hand. “There are three reasons. First, before the Third Trial began, I investigated the martial arts and traits of the other trainees.”
He continued, “And my swordsmanship is among the top ten here.” Emitting a fierce glint from his eyes, Seo Jinha added, “Most importantly, I’m not the type to stab someone in the back.”
The last condition was the most critical for forming a group. There had to be enough trust to rely on a partner’s back.
‘He’s not lying.’ Proud individuals rarely lie. Bu Eunseol had already sensed that Seo Jinha wasn’t the type to betray.
“What’s the condition?” At Bu Eunseol’s question, Seo Jinha answered immediately.
“Until you and I are the last ones standing. We fight enemies together and don’t attack each other.”
“Fine.” Bu Eunseol tossed the antidote from his pocket.
Seo Jinha hurriedly opened the leather pouch, finding a bottle of powder and a bottle of ointment—one to ingest, one to apply.
“Oh.” The antidote’s effect was remarkable.
After taking and applying it, his swollen fingers subsided instantly, and the dizziness vanished.
“Follow me.” Fully recovered, Seo Jinha regained his arrogant demeanor. “First, I’ll tell you how to defeat the remaining ones in a safe place.”
But Bu Eunseol firmly shook his head.
“No need.”
“What? Changed your mind already?”
“That’s not it.” With a bitter expression, Bu Eunseol pointed to the distant sky. “They’re all already here.”
Hiiii!
As Bu Eunseol’s words ended, an eerie sound echoed from afar. It was the sound of the killing spirits restricting the area.
“Already?” As Seo Jinha panicked—
Whirrr. Turrut.
With the sound of air being sliced, four groups charged from all directions—east, west, south, and north.
They were the surviving groups on Hell Island.
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