“—Even in death, I cannot close my eyes…”
Death Without Closing Eyes
The technique seemed to reflect the old man’s current state.
Having forcibly expelled his inner strength, his body was so frail it wouldn’t have been surprising if he had died long ago. Yet, for some unresolved grievance, his soul couldn’t rest, clinging stubbornly to his flesh.
Boom!
With a deafening explosion, a dark blade aura—no, an aura of death—burst from the old man’s stone dagger, scattering in all directions.
‘I must use the Seven Blood Tear Forms…’ Bu Eunseol thought, raising his stone dagger to counter the spreading blade aura.
Pop, pop, pop!
The blade aura passed through the old man’s body, then Bu Eunseol’s, and ultimately through everything in existence.
Rumble.
Massive rocks began falling from the ceiling.
Rumble.
The stone chamber collapsed entirely.
“Ugh,” Bu Eunseol groaned.
As the dust settled, a space untouched by falling rocks appeared within the collapsed chamber.
Ziiing.
There stood Bu Eunseol, arms outstretched, using the Wishful True Binding to block the falling debris.
The chamber, built into the cave, had relatively small and light rocks, but to protect the old man, Bu Eunseol had spread the Wishful True Binding widely to shield him.
“Are you unharmed?” he asked, looking at the old man, who stood weakly in a corner.
The old man’s already gaunt body now resembled a skeleton, having poured not only the Ban-Geuk Method’s energy but all his remaining vitality into the blade technique.
Drip, drip.
Bu Eunseol wasn’t unscathed either. His body was covered in wounds, with blood dripping from gashes.
When the old man unleashed the Death Without Closing Eyes technique, Bu Eunseol had countered with the Seven Blood Tear Forms.
Unable to fully block the old man’s blade moves, his body was enveloped by the blade aura. Yet, to protect the old man from the falling rocks, he had immediately deployed the Wishful True Binding.
Had he not used the Seeking Life in Death Form technique, or had the Ban-Geuk Method’s energy within the old man faltered mid-fight, Bu Eunseol would have been torn apart and killed.
‘This is the power of the Seven Blood Tear Forms,’ he thought.
As the fifth technique, Death Without Closing Eyes, unleashed its supreme move in a life-or-death moment, the blade path of the Seven Blood Tear Forms flashed in his mind, along with the second technique, Seeking Life in Death Form.
Seeking Life in Death Form—a technique that countered a fatal attack while simultaneously striking back to erase the enemy’s space. It could also serve as a life-saving supreme move, finding a thread of survival in a hopeless situation.
Kwawoo!
As the old man’s Death Without Closing Eyes enveloped him, Bu Eunseol used Seeking Life in Death Form to create a blade phantom, protecting his vital acupoints and surviving the wave of blade aura.
“Ugh,” Bu Eunseol said, carefully pushing aside the fallen rocks and taking a deep breath.
Until now, his Seven Blood Tear Forms had been mere posturing. The true power of the Seven Blood Tear Forms transcended the Way of the Blade, nearing the realm of “phenomena.”
Had the old man’s inner strength been intact, not just the chamber but the entire Repentance Cave would have collapsed, and all the demons within would have perished, their souls wandering the underworld.
“Who… are you?” the old man asked, his voice clear as if he had briefly regained his sanity, staring intently at Bu Eunseol. “The variation of Seeking Life in Death Form you used—it’s impossible without knowing the entire blade path.”
“I am Bu Eunseol, a disciple of Nangyang Pavilion,” he replied quickly, seizing the moment of clarity. “By chance, I obtained the true legacy of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade on Ghost Island.”
A faint light glimmered in the old man’s eyes, as if weighing the truth of his words or slipping back into a dazed state.
“Are you the Seven-Finger Demon Blade himself?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“…”
“I am not a spy of the Three Realms,” he added urgently. “I am the grandson of Bu Zhanyang, a mortician of the Huangzhou Prefecture. But my grandfather was brutally killed by a master of wicked demonic swordsmanship. I entered the martial world to avenge him, but the more I investigated, the more I suspected my grandfather and the Seven-Finger Demon Blade were the same person.”
With a desperate expression, Bu Eunseol continued, “I’ve tried speaking to you, but your mind was too broken for conversation. If you doubt my identity, I’ll recite the entire blade path of the Seven Blood Tear Forms.”
The old man, breathing heavily with a dazed gaze, remained silent. With no choice, Bu Eunseol injected more Ban-Geuk Method energy into him and began reciting the Seven Blood Tear Forms’ blade path. Still, there was no response.
‘The Three Realms might believe they could uncover the Seven Blood Tear Forms’ blade path,’ Bu Eunseol thought, scrambling for another approach. How could he prove his and his grandfather’s identities?
“My grandfather…” Realizing they were in Shaolin, he spoke quickly. “He seemed to be a Shaolin disciple. He taught me the Muscle-Changing Sutra.”
He began reciting the Muscle-Changing Sutra’s mantra.
Then, “The Seven-Finger Demon Blade…” the old man muttered, staring blankly into the void, his expression dreamlike, as if lost in a haze or nearing death. He murmured something unexpected: “The entire martial world owes him a debt. His sacrifice allowed it to survive.”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes flashed. This meant the old man wasn’t the Seven-Finger Demon Blade himself.
“Then you…” Bu Eunseol began, intending to ask about his connection to the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, but stopped. The old man’s gaze was fixed on the void, not on him.
“But in the end, he realized everything had gone wrong,” the old man continued. “So he sought to atone with his death.”
“…”
“But we couldn’t let that happen. He had already lost too much.”
‘we?’ Bu Eunseol thought. Were there so many aiding the Seven-Finger Demon Blade?
He wanted to interrupt and ask questions, but the old man’s voice grew faint, as if his strength was fading. Stopping him now might cause him to die on the spot.
“Deceiving the Three Realms wasn’t easy,” the old man said. “Many who became his shadows died one by one… I chose the final method: sealing my inner strength and entering the Repentance Cave myself.”
He gave a faint smile. “The Three Realms’ influence doesn’t reach here. In this place, I could die as the Seven-Finger Demon Blade.”
Thud.
Bu Eunseol was stunned.
He had always wondered why, if his grandfather was the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, he hadn’t abandoned the name or been caught by the Three Realms’ vast network. In the martial world, only one person was known as Bu Zhanyang—the Seven-Finger Demon Blade.
Astonishingly, there were those who aided him, and this nameless old man had locked himself in the Repentance Cave, willingly playing the role of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade to protect him.
“So you… became the Seven-Finger Demon Blade and endured this suffering?” Bu Eunseol murmured, not as a question but in shock at the revelation.
The old man, as if understanding, smiled faintly. “It was the only way to free him from the blood-soaked martial world…”
“…”
“He meticulously planned to fake his death and succeeded in vanishing, unaware that the one he trusted most would betray him…”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes widened. Though the old man’s words were rambling, the situation was clear.
Many had secretly aided the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, and this old man was one of them. When a betrayal threatened to expose the plan, he had willingly confined himself in the Repentance Cave, sacrificing himself for Bu Zhanyang’s safety.
“Who was the trusted one? Who betrayed him?” Bu Eunseol asked.
Instead of answering, the old man spoke of something else. “But I made a mistake,” he said, his eyes filled with pain as he looked at Bu Eunseol. “The Three Realms found me here. Deceived by a vile person, I taught them five techniques of the Seven Blood Tear Forms…”
He bit his lip, as if the memory tormented him. “When they had nothing more to take, they brought someone using the Soul-Seizing Spirit Words to shatter my mind…”
Bu Eunseol understood everything.
The Three Realms had discovered the Seven-Finger Demon Blade was hiding here and learned through this old man that the real Bu Zhanyang was alive.
After extracting the Seven Blood Tear Forms, deeming him useless, they sent a master like Hyeok Ryeon-eung to destroy his mind with soul-seizing techniques. The technique was so potent that even in death, the old man’s clarity didn’t fully return.
“He always wanted to atone for the innocent lives he took,” the old man said, gazing at Bu Eunseol with weary eyes. “I hope… he’s safe.”
At the desperate, pleading voice, Bu Eunseol closed his eyes tightly. This old man had sacrificed his entire life for the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, worrying for him until his final breath.
“He’s probably safe,” Bu Eunseol said carefully. “You no longer need to play the Seven-Finger Demon Blade. I’ll ensure you return to your family.”
Having been his shadow for decades and sacrificing himself, the old man deserved to rest with his family.
“No,” the old man said, shaking his head as if understanding. “If he’s still alive, I must die as the Seven-Finger Demon Blade.”
“Elder…”
“Bu Zhanyang,” the old man said, suddenly staring at Bu Eunseol with a bright smile and nodding. “I hope… he left the martial world safely and lived happily.”
Swish.
With those words, the old man breathed his last. Bu Eunseol lowered his head, his expression heavy with sorrow, and gently held the old man’s hands.
“Elder…” His voice trembled with pain and grief.
The Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang, was likely his grandfather, who had worked as a mortician to atone. This was possible because of the nameless old man’s sacrifice. For the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, he had chosen a life of suffering and, even in his final moments, prayed only for Bu Zhanyang’s happiness.
“My grandfather…” Suppressing his surging emotions, Bu Eunseol held the old man’s hands and spoke softly. “He lived happily with me for a long time.”
A faint smile appeared on the old man’s lips, as if he had heard that Bu Zhanyang lived happily.
The smile was peaceful, without regret.
Emerging from the collapsed chamber, Bu Eunseol bowed deeply toward the old man’s resting place.
He never learned the old man’s true name or identity, but even in clarity, he likely wouldn’t have revealed it, dedicated solely to protecting Bu Zhanyang’s peace.
“I’ll ensure Shaolin tends to your remains,” Bu Eunseol said.
The old man had wished to die as the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, so Bu Eunseol couldn’t take his body. The shadow of Bu Zhanyang, who had terrified the martial world, died alone in the dark Repentance Cave.
Rising from his bow, Bu Eunseol lowered his head again toward the chamber. The old man was his savior, not just Bu Zhanyang’s. Without his sacrifice, Bu Zhanyang couldn’t have become a mortician, and Bu Eunseol, freezing to death, would never have met him.
A person who devoted their life to another’s happiness deserved the respect of all.
‘I must question Shaolin about this,’ Bu Eunseol thought.
Originally, he planned to meet the Seven-Finger Demon Blade or his shadow and leave quietly. But meeting the nameless old man changed his mind.
He needed to confront Shaolin about what they knew.
He was certain his grandfather was the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, who had sacrificed for the martial world and atoned by tending to the dead. Creak.
Closing the iron door, Bu Eunseol turned. As part of Shaolin, the Repentance Cave’s monks would collect the old man’s remains and offer prayers once they learned of his death.
“Since the Repentance Cave is managed by the Blood Shaolin, I must meet their abbot,” Bu Eunseol said, biting his lip. He wanted to storm Shaolin and demand answers, but he couldn’t. If his grandfather was a Shaolin disciple, having taught him the Muscle-Changing Sutra’s nurturing techniques, Bu Eunseol couldn’t treat Shaolin recklessly.
‘What kind of twist is this?’ he thought. How could his grandfather, a Shaolin disciple, have mastered the Heavenly Will Secret, a technique of the orthodox master Shinto Mubi, and become an invincible blade master who terrified the demonic path and rose to deputy leader of Majeon? It was incomprehensible.
‘I’ll find Dam Jeung,’ he decided. With Shaolin’s abbot ambushed and the atmosphere tense, he would seek Dam Jeung, the Blood Shaolin’s abbot, to ask his questions.
“Clear this quickly!” The demons’ clamor echoed from outside.
Emerging, Bu Eunseol saw the old men rushing to the collapsed cave, moving rocks. Without inner strength, they struggled to clear the debris.
“What are you doing?” Bu Eunseol asked, effortlessly pushing aside a boulder weighing hundreds of pounds.
“…”
The old men froze, eyes wide. “You’re alive,” one said.
“See? I said a guy with intact inner strength would be fine,” another added.
“Ugh, we wasted energy because of one guy,” they grumbled, glaring at Tak Ilhon before trudging back to their caves.
It seemed Tak Ilhon had rallied them to save Bu Eunseol by clearing the rocks.
“Haa,” Bu Eunseol sighed deeply. These great demons, once terrors of the martial world, far surpassing those in the Heavenly Annihilation Land, were laboring to save him. The sight stirred indescribable emotions.
Could these old men still be called demons? Who defined orthodox and demonic, good and evil?
‘Was my grandfather the same?’ Bu Eunseol thought. His grandfather had taught that concepts like demonic, orthodox, good, and evil were flawed constructs of human convenience. As Bu Eunseol traveled the martial world, the boundaries between demonic and orthodox, good and evil, grew increasingly blurred.
“Wait, stay there,” he called, stopping the departing old men.
“Why?” they asked, turning back.
Ziiing!
Over a hundred tangible hands formed behind Bu Eunseol—the Wishful True Binding. Previously impossible, this feat was now achievable after mastering the Elixir Refining Secret, allowing finer control of his vast inner strength.
Swish!
The hands of true energy passed through the old men.
Wooong!
With a powerful vibration, the Ban-Geuk Method surged through their meridians. Though their dantians were destroyed, preventing them from accumulating inner strength, this act would ensure they lived long, pain-free lives.
“Ha, pointless,” the old men said, unimpressed despite Bu Eunseol clearing their meridians in an instant.
“This young fool, with his deep inner strength, does all sorts of nonsense,” one muttered.
“Exactly. If you have that much power, use it outside. Why waste it here?” another grumbled.
Smiling at their complaints, Bu Eunseol said, “One day, after finishing my affairs, I’ll return here.”
He clasped his hands. “Then, I’ll take you all out.”
“No need,” they replied.
“We’re fine here.”
“Going out would only trouble our descendants.”
The great demons waved him off, having attained a state of detachment, finding even the martial world bothersome.
Smiling, Bu Eunseol clasped his hands again. “Very well.”
He headed toward the Repentance Cave’s entrance. Its height was immeasurable, and the walls were too smooth for the Wall-Tiger Palm Technique. But for Bu Eunseol, it was no obstacle.
“Wait!”
A figure rushed toward him—Tak Ilhon.
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