Gilan, Misu Village.
Now a ruin, it once housed over three hundred homes and a thousand people. Near the Yusuha River stood a beautiful manor named Saha Manor. Its master, though young, was renowned for his scholarship, constantly invited by local notables. The mistress was known for her kindness, helping the needy and those in distress.
Then, a strange event occurred. Saha Manor burned down overnight. The manor’s retainers perished in the flames, and the master’s family vanished without a trace. The authorities investigated but found neither the cause of the fire nor the missing family.
The real trouble began after Saha Manor’s destruction. The villagers fell ill, and a deadly plague swept through, killing or scattering the thousand residents. Misu Village became an abandoned ruin.
“…”
Bu Eunseol, disguised as Seon Woojin, stood in the empty lot where Saha Manor once stood.
‘Hmm.’
He let out a deep breath. While Misu Village showed faint traces of past habitation, the manor’s site was as if nothing had ever existed—no remnants remained. Despite over twenty years passing, no one had resettled the village.
‘A plague,’ he thought.
A plague could turn a village into a ruin, scattering its people. The Yusuha River had dried up, making it unnavigable for boats. With trade routes gone, markets and shops closed. With no means of livelihood, no one returned to Misu Village.
‘Someone with immense power must have intervened,’ Bu Eunseol concluded.
Bandit attacks destroying a manor weren’t uncommon, nor were plagues devastating villages or changing landscapes and trade routes. But for all these events to occur simultaneously was highly improbable.
“I don’t… remember,” he murmured.
Despite thoroughly searching the manor’s ruins, no memories surfaced. The desolate scene was too different from the beautiful, serene manor in his dreams.
‘Could it be the wrong place?’ he wondered.
During his brief spiritual connection with Ak Muryeong, he had glimpsed only the character ‘Ha (霞).’ This could be a different manor with a similar name.
‘There’s a way to confirm.’
If this was the manor from his dreams, there should be a secret passage.
Zing.
Bu Eunseol activated Void Heart Command, meticulously scanning the ground.
‘If that passage exists…’
It would confirm this was the manor where he lived with his parents, providing clues to trace their fate.
‘Nothing.’
But there was no secret passage. Despite scouring the site with Void Heart Command, he found no trace of mechanisms or passages.
“Was it another place?” he wondered, his eyes filled with loneliness.
He had thought he’d found a clue to his roots, but this didn’t seem to be the manor from his dreams.
‘Time to go back.’
If Saha Manor wasn’t his home, there was no need to linger. Yet, a lingering reluctance kept him from leaving.
Step, step.
Then, light footsteps approached, and a tall, graceful figure walked toward him. Turning, Bu Eunseol saw a man in white robes, carrying a large bundle like a peddler. The man glanced at him and slowly entered the manor’s ruins.
“A guest was here,” the man in white said, smiling faintly with a peculiar expression.
His eyes were clear and profound, his voice and demeanor free of malice. His features were refined and handsome, naturally inspiring goodwill.
“You don’t seem ordinary. What brings you here?” the man asked casually.
Bu Eunseol, still disguised as Seon Woojin, replied calmly, “Just passing through.”
His response slipped into his natural, formal tone.
“It looks like a large manor once stood here, but there’s nothing left…”
“Indeed,” the man nodded, settling down in the ruins. “What does it matter? For a traveler, a place to rest is enough.”
He set down his bundle, revealing it was filled with liquor bottles, as if he planned to hold a drinking party.
“Care for a drink?” he asked, pointing to the bottles. “As you can see, there’s more than enough to get thoroughly drunk.”
Bu Eunseol gave a faint smile. He had no reason to refuse liquor, especially with the man’s friendly demeanor sparking an unexpected fondness.
‘I’m changing,’ he thought.
Was it because of the mixed righteous and demonic martial arts in his body? Or was it his experiences in the martial world? For the first time, he felt warmth toward strangers—Soyo, Baekri Mujo, and now this nameless man.
“The fragrance of fine liquor wafts from your bundle,” Bu Eunseol said dryly. “I was starting to resent you for not offering a drink.”
“Hahaha!” The man let out a hearty laugh, his clear voice echoing like a cloudless sky. “Take this.”
Tap.
He tossed a bottle, which Bu Eunseol caught lightly. His eyes deepened. The simple act of throwing the bottle carried the subtle principles and precision of profound martial arts. This man was undoubtedly a renowned young grandmaster.
Pop.
Bu Eunseol opened the bottle with a calm expression, too preoccupied to care about the man’s identity. He had come hoping to find traces of his past, but found nothing, leaving him frustrated and resentful of his unknown origins.
Gulp, gulp.
He drowned his sorrow and frustration in the bottle.
“Good liquor,” he said, nodding after draining it. The liquor, like that served at the Martial Alliance, was pure and fragrant, fit for a ceremonial altar.
“You know how to drink,” the man said, impressed as Bu Eunseol emptied the bottle in one go.
Gulp, gulp.
The man drained his own bottle and nodded. “A true man drinks boldly like this. These days, young martial artists sip from tiny cups.”
Pointing generously at his bundle, he said, “Drink as much as you want. There’s plenty.”
Under the moonlight in the ruined manor, they drank, passing bottles back and forth. They felt an instant connection, comfortable as old friends despite barely speaking.
“The last bottle already,” Bu Eunseol said, picking up the final bottle. He drank half and tossed it back to the man.
“You not only drink well but understand the way of liquor,” the man said, finishing the bottle. “What’s your name? You seem like a scion of a great family.”
“…”
“I wander the martial world like a vagabond, so my knowledge is limited. I can’t place you.”
“A life drifting like duckweed,” Bu Eunseol murmured, gazing at the distant sky. “Our lives are full of meetings and partings. What’s the point of knowing names?”
The man, momentarily stunned, burst into clear laughter. “Hahaha, you’re right.”
Smiling brightly, he watched as Bu Eunseol clasped his hands.
“Thanks for the drink,” Bu Eunseol said, his tone curt but warm. “Next time, I’ll treat you properly.”
Though they didn’t know each other’s names, Bu Eunseol promised to meet again and buy the drinks.
“I’ll look forward to that,” the man said, flashing a bright smile before adopting a solemn expression. “Keep that promise.”
Bu Eunseol clasped his hands again, and the man returned the gesture with a smile.
As Bu Eunseol turned to leave, the man sighed deeply and muttered, “He seems light as a blade of grass on the outside, but inside, he’s made of solid iron.”
Taking a deep breath, he pulled a bottle from his robe—a far more refined and potent liquor than the ones they’d shared.
“If you were still alive, we’d be drinking like this,” he said, his expression pained as he opened the bottle. “Even coming here every year out of guilt doesn’t ease my heart.”
Memories of his childhood surfaced—secret memories that must never be revealed.
“Today, I’ll cast off this guilt,” he declared, pouring the liquor onto the ground.
Splash.
Looking at the distant sky, he said, “It’s time for me to step forward.”
With a deep breath, he unleashed his movement technique. A lotus-like radiance bloomed around him, and he soared into the sky like an immortal.
Nine-Grade Lotus Platform.
A supreme Buddhist movement technique, rarely mastered in Shaolin except by The Buddha Venerable, requiring the division of inner energy into nine streams. It was unleashed by the man in white.
As the two men left, a chilling wind blew through the manor’s ruins.
Whoosh.
The sky darkened, and rain began to fall, steadily soaking the earth as if swallowing the world. It was as if it foreshadowed the destinies awaiting the two men.
***
So Jamyeong returned to Death Shadow Pavilion, as the deal between Bu Eunseol and Yeop Hyocheon had been finalized.
Hell's Blood Fortress had colluded with Infinite Realm, supplying poisons and forces to Daeyun Forest. Bu Eunseol had planned to hold a Demonic Assembly to expose and punish Hell's Blood Fortress’s crimes, but through Yeop Hyocheon’s mediation, the matter was settled with Hell's Blood Fortress’s lord, Gongya Geuk, stepping down.
In return, Yeop Hyocheon allowed So Jamyeong to return to Bu Eunseol.
For Bu Eunseol, Hell's Blood Fortress was now a faction he could crush at any time. But a talent like So Jamyeong was rare, even across the martial world, so he gladly accepted Yeop Hyocheon’s proposal.
It was the right choice.
“Myo Cheonwoo… are you certain?” Yoo Unryong asked.
In a secret chamber within the Suppressed Demon Pavilion, created at Bu Eunseol’s request to Yoo Unryong after discovering a spy among Death Shadow Pavilion’s commanders, Bu Eunseol wasn’t present. Instead, Yoo Unryong and So Jamyeong sat face-to-face.
“Yes,” So Jamyeong confirmed.
Bu Eunseol had tasked So Jamyeong with finding the spy in Death Shadow Pavilion upon his return. After a long investigation, So Jamyeong identified the culprit:
Myo Cheonwoo.
“Why are you telling me this?” Yoo Unryong asked, his expression grave. “Shouldn’t you report this to the Soul Command Lord immediately?”
“I already did,” So Jamyeong said with a low sigh. “Three months ago.”
Thud.
Yoo Unryong felt his vision darken. Bu Eunseol had known Myo Cheonwoo was a spy all along, yet he had remained calm and composed.
“The Martial Soul Command Lord is brilliant,” Yoo Unryong said, regaining his composure. “He must be planning a grand strategy to take down those behind this.”
“Captain Yoo,” So Jamyeong interrupted firmly. “You know the Martial Soul Command Lord’s nature better than anyone.”
Yoo Unryong lowered his head. Bu Eunseol didn’t easily trust others, but once he did, he never betrayed that trust—even if the person held a blade to his throat.
‘Bu Eunseol,’ Yoo Unryong thought, biting his lip.
Bu Eunseol was waiting silently, hoping Myo Cheonwoo would abandon his espionage and return to Death Shadow Pavilion’s fold. His patience was far greater than others’. He might wait for years, even until Myo held a blade to him.
So Jamyeong, knowing this well, had sought out Yoo Unryong, Bu Eunseol’s most trusted subordinate and friend.
“You came to me because of the upcoming meeting,” Yoo Unryong realized.
A captains’ meeting for the Death Shadow Corps was imminent, and Yoo Unryong needed to report a significant incident involving someone connected to Bu Eunseol—likely bringing more hardship and danger. So Jamyeong, aware of this, had discreetly approached him.
“Understood,” Yoo Unryong said, nodding with resolve. “If the Soul Command Lord is put in danger again, or if his actions are exposed once more…”
Grit.
Swallowing his anguish, he bit his lip. “I’ll take responsibility and deal with Myo Cheonwoo myself.”
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