“Begin!”
At that moment, the Ghost-Masked Envoy’s voice thundered across the chamber.
Instantly, murderous intent gleamed in every participant’s eyes.
‘I must seize the first strike and aim for the heart!’
To survive this trial unscathed, there was no other way but to strike first and instantly find the one hole among fourteen that led straight to the heart. Under the Ghost-Masked Envoy’s watchful eye, the fifty-odd participants began fighting in strict order.
“Urgh!”
“Aaaargh!”
Screams soon filled the air.
The odds of precisely targeting the heart among fourteen holes were astronomically low.
Yet, looked at another way, there were three other holes that could inflict fatal wounds even if the heart was missed.
That was hardly a low probability.
Few died instantly from a pierced heart, but shoulders, arms, and thighs were run through with depressing frequency.
“Wuhahahaha!”
Yet one man chained victory after victory.
Cheon Hwain.
He always seized the first move and found the heart’s hole in a single thrust.
Of course, others besides Cheon Hwain also racked up unbroken wins.
They had merely avoided fatal blows. Shoulders, arms, thighs—those places were stabbed again and again.
‘Cheon Hwain stringing together victories means he perfectly matches whatever they’re looking for.’
This was supposed to be pure luck.
For Cheon Hwain alone to keep winning made no sense.
‘They’re definitely culling specific people. In that case…’
After pondering deeply, Bu Eunseol faintly grasped what they truly wanted.
‘They want to unleash the latent killing intent inside us.’
The first trial used various poisonous incense to provoke the madness lurking in each person’s heart.
The second gave the “justifiable” excuse of protecting one’s own life, forcing participants to shove others off high places without hesitation.
Every trial so far had been designed to make harming others feel utterly natural even while sober—a process to draw out the killing intent buried within.
‘But why unleash killing intent? What do they gain?’
Bu Eunseol turned the question over in his mind.
The third trial simply created random holes, allowing participants to kill without the slightest prick of conscience.
It didn’t seem meant to screen for any particular quality.
‘Sword Tomb, Sword Tomb…’
After thinking for a long while, his eyes suddenly flashed.
‘Then… are they searching for someone capable of wielding an utterly wicked demonic sword?’
If a person thirsted for slaughter, they would instinctively find the hole leading to the heart in one strike. Such a person would be perfectly suited to wield a demonic sword that craved human blood.
‘So the Sword Tomb they spoke of—is actually the Demonic Sword Tomb.’
The legendary Sword Tomb was not limited to divine swords and treasured blades.
Naturally, there also existed a Demonic Sword Tomb where blood-soaked demonic swords and blades slumbered.
‘But why?’
That still left a question.
Whether Sword Tomb or Demonic Sword Tomb, if it truly existed, why go to the trouble of gathering martial artists just to hand out swords?
As Bu Eunseol sank deeper into thought—
“You. Fight me.”
A man whose eyes had turned bloodshot approached him.
Cheon Hwain.
“Your eyes piss me off. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
He had already fallen irretrievably into demonic nature, and not a trace remained of the man he once was. His pupils surged with killing intent, his face twisting into something grotesque.
He had passed every trial meant to awaken the instinct to kill with flying colors and was now fully qualified to wield a demonic sword.
“I’ll take the first move.” Without even assuming a stance, Cheon Hwain instantly shoved his soft sword into the cylinder Bu Eunseol wore.
And that spot was exactly where Bu Eunseol’s heart lay.
‘No choice.’
If he circulated inner energy, the ripple would spread and the Ghost-Masked Envoy would notice immediately. He couldn’t trigger the mechanisms inside the cylinder either—the holes shifted with an audible clunk each time.
‘This is the only way.’
Bu Eunseol raised his Crystal Divine Energy and blocked the passage leading to his heart.
The Water Palace’s power originated entirely from nature; unleashing it produced neither energy waves nor pressure.
Clang.
When the soft sword could advance no further, Cheon Hwain’s face contorted.
“How…?”
“My turn.” Bu Eunseol gripped his own soft sword and stared straight at Cheon Hwain.
‘This man doesn’t deserve to live.’
He held no lingering grudge over past events with Cheon Hwain. The day that man became a cripple, Bu Eunseol had severed all ties and cleared his heart.
But the current Cheon Hwain was different.
He was thoroughly dyed in malice, showing no hesitation to take lives.
If such a man obtained a demonic sword? A demon who should never appear in the martial world would be born.
‘I’ll pierce his heart in one strike.’
Using the beast-like senses of the Beast Way, Bu Eunseol instantly located the hole leading to the heart.
Without hesitation, he thrust the soft sword into it.
Stab!
With a dull sound of penetration, Cheon Hwain staggered back, impaled.
“Urrgh…”
Yet something strange happened.
Even though the heart had been clearly pierced, he did not die. Gritting his teeth, he stood firm.
‘So that’s it.’
The heart lies slightly left of the body’s center line.
Yet some rare people have all their organs mirrored on the opposite side.
Cheon Hwain’s heart was not on the left—it was on the right.
“Kekekeke.”
Cheon Hwain writhed in pain yet let out a sinister laugh.
His heart had not been pierced, but a sword through the chest was hardly harmless.
Still, as if he felt no pain, he raised his soft sword while laughing.
“My turn now. Hehehe.” He gripped the sword and laughed grotesquely. “Even if it’s not the heart, there are other fatal spots.”
Enveloped in demonic energy and evil aura, Cheon Hwain instantly found the hole leading through the collarbone and stabbed.
‘I can’t block this one.’
Bu Eunseol sensed it instinctively.
The Ghost-Masked Envoy was staring straight at him; blocking again would give him away instantly.
‘I must minimize the damage.’
The soft swords they had been given were terrifyingly sharp—sharp enough to pierce even chainmail.
Stab.
The instant the blade entered, Bu Eunseol spread Crystal Divine Energy through his body.
Not to stop the sword, but to protect the blood vessels and pleura along the collarbone path.
Stab.
The skin was already pierced, so the clear sound of penetration rang out.
Cheon Hwain felt the definite resistance and laughed sinisterly.
“Hehehehe. How’s that?”
Bu Eunseol deliberately grimaced in pain and dropped to one knee.
He had avoided a fatal wound, but he needed to fool the Ghost-Masked Envoy’s eyes.
“Now… my turn.” As Bu Eunseol rose again with the soft sword in hand, Cheon Hwain gnashed his teeth.
The wound near his heart was by no means light.
One more strike to the collarbone or similar spot could kill him from blood loss.
“You ready?” Bu Eunseol approached slowly, using the Beast Way’s senses to find the collarbone hole and thrust the soft sword in.
Thud.
At that moment, someone on the opposite side collapsed, vomiting blood.
“Enough.”
The Ghost-Masked Envoy raised his hand and shouted.
“Those who will enter the Sword Tomb have all been decided.”
Looking around, only six martial artists besides Bu Eunseol and Cheon Hwain remained.
When the Ghost-Masked Envoy raised his hand—
Clank.
The metal cylinders attached to the survivors detached on their own.
Revealed beneath were figures drenched in blood.
Bu Eunseol’s eyes widened.
Every single one… had wounds where their hearts should have been pierced.
It turned out the survivors all had hearts on the right side.
And inside the small empty containers within the cylinders, the blood that had flowed from their bodies had been collected.
“Hmm.” The Ghost-Masked Envoy narrowed his eyes into crescents as he looked at Bu Eunseol, whose heart area remained intact.
“An impressive master. You deceived even this envoy’s ears.”
Bu Eunseol had believed these three trials existed to find demonic sword users with senses sharp enough to instinctively locate the heart. But now he saw they actually wanted those who survived even after their hearts were pierced.
Yet another question arose.
If they only needed to know heart positions, they could have examined bodies before entering the Sword Tomb.
Why force them into those bizarre cylinders and make them fight to the death?
And why collect their blood in those cylinders?
“Another spy from the Martial Alliance?”
Shockingly, the Ghost-Masked Envoy had already half-guessed Bu Eunseol’s identity.
“Every Martial Alliance spy has been extraordinarily skilled.”
Step by step, the Ghost-Masked Envoy approached. “Shall we see what you’re made of?”
Bu Eunseol secretly gathered his inner energy.
At this point, the only option was to slaughter everyone and erase all evidence.
Fortunately, with the martial prowess he had inherited from Seon Woojin, he could handle the Ghost-Masked Envoy.
Shrrk!
When he poured energy into his soft sword, a sharp sword aura flared.
‘I’ll use the Thirteen Iron Sword Forms.’
Combined with the Grafting Flowers onto Jade, the Thirteen Iron Sword Forms could trade blows with the Ghost-Masked Envoy.
Ruuuumble.
At that moment, members of the Heaven-Human Cult wearing robes embroidered with strange patterns poured out from the opened door.
But the Ghost-Masked Envoy raised a hand to stop them.
“Treat those men and send them to the Sword Tomb. This one is mine.”
“Yes, sir.”
The cultists dragged away Cheon Hwain and the others who had survived heart piercings.
“First strike is yours.”
The Ghost-Masked Envoy folded his arms confidently without drawing his sword.
The sword art he had used until now was an ultra-fast killing draw that the eye could not follow.
He stood relaxed, but the instant Bu Eunseol revealed an opening—
He would strike like lightning with a thunderbolt-fast sword.
Thud.
Bu Eunseol lightly stamped the ground with his soft sword in hand.
Vibrations spread in all directions, instantly mapping the chamber’s structure in his mind.
‘No one’s watching.’ A smile tugged at Bu Eunseol’s lips as he scanned the area.
A strategy to turn this desperate crisis into opportunity had just occurred to him.
Swish!
He swung his soft sword instantly.
The Ghost-Masked Envoy’s eyes widened in shock as he hurriedly retreated.
It resembled his own ultra-fast killing sword—yet was even faster.
Whoosh!
Despite dodging quickly, he failed to evade, and blood sprayed from his neck.
“What in the world… are you-?”
The Ghost-Masked Envoy’s words never finished.
The soft sword that grazed his neck drew a semicircle in midair and struck again toward a vital point.
It was the ultra-fast killing sword art capable of changing direction multiple times in empty space—Nine Dragons Flashing Thunder.
Moreover, Bu Eunseol had further refined Cheon Ungwang’s Nine Dragons Flashing Thunder, incorporating the strengths of demonic swordsmanship.
Swish! Swish!
The Ghost-Masked Envoy frantically used footwork and body techniques, yet a sword buried itself deep in his shoulder.
Originally, that single strike could have taken his head, but Bu Eunseol had held back on purpose.
He needed to confirm the man’s true martial art.
“You bastard…!”
Swish!
When the sharp soft sword that had lodged in his shoulder grazed his cheek, the Ghost-Masked Envoy could no longer speak.
Shrring!
He immediately drew his own sword.
Crimson sword aura exploded outward, and in an instant the entire chamber seemed engulfed in flames.
A demonic sword.
What the Ghost-Masked Envoy wielded was no divine sword—it was a demonic sword possessing strange powers.
“Die!”
Roar!
The Ghost-Masked Envoy swung with full power.
Before the sword move even fully unfolded, searing heat trapped Bu Eunseol like being inside flames. At the same time, his movements slowed as if submerged in water.
‘So it wasn’t a fast killing sword—it was the demonic sword’s power.’
The trajectory had been invisible, making it seem like a fast killing sword, but in reality the Ghost-Masked Envoy used a scattered-sword technique filled with irregular moves.
‘This is his true art.’ Having grasped the Ghost-Masked Envoy’s exclusive swordsmanship, Bu Eunseol stared at the pouring heat and thrust his soft sword forward with all his might.
Dazzling radiance erupted, and time itself seemed to freeze.
Hummmm!
The soft sword appeared to extend slowly as a fireball, yet the Ghost-Masked Envoy could not move a muscle.
It looked slow, but in truth it had captured the exact instant to sever life—that was why it appeared slow to the victim.
Transcendent Meteor Surpassing Form.
The lightning-fast sword reborn after shedding its shell in battle with Pang Ryun had evolved into an ultimate demonic sword art that let one taste death with their eyes first.
Freeze.
The slow-moving fireball vanished, radiance flashed, and the Ghost-Masked Envoy stood petrified like a statue.
Drip.
A faint red line now traced his neck.
His head had been severed by the Transcendent Meteor Surpassing Form.
Thud.
He collapsed like a crumbling wall.
A master who could have dominated an entire region in the martial world had become a ghost with a single strike from Bu Eunseol.
Whoosh!
As the Ghost-Masked Envoy fell, Bu Eunseol instantly used Void Grasp to seize the ghost mask.
‘This man…’
When he removed the mask, an ordinary, almost gentle-looking middle-aged face appeared.
“Benevolent Sword… Yeon Baek-ryang?”
Shockingly, the Ghost-Masked Envoy’s true identity was none other than the famous righteous hero known as Benevolent Sword, Yeon Baek-ryang.
“So in the end, even he abandoned everything for a sword.”
Yeon Baek-ryang had been famous not for martial prowess but for his kind and benevolent nature, as his title suggested.
Though his martial arts were mediocre, he inherited considerable wealth and built wide connections by generously hosting masters. True to the name Benevolent Sword, he helped the needy without hesitation.
But that life did not last long.
Under the pretext of treating friends and aiding the poor, he poured out money endlessly until his fortune was exhausted. With mediocre swordsmanship and no wealth left—his only merit gone—no masters sought him out anymore.
Thus he vanished from the martial world.
Who would have thought the Benevolent Sword, who met such a lonely end, would reappear as the Ghost-Masked Envoy of the Heaven-Human Cult?
“That makes sense.”
Like Cheon Hwain, Yeon Baek-ryang had once flaunted connections and lived well in the martial world. But when he squandered all his wealth to maintain those ties, only a miserable old age remained.
His choices were to throw away his life or risk it for powerful martial arts.
In the end, he joined the Heaven-Human Cult and obtained a demonic sword, becoming the Ghost-Masked Envoy.
“They exploited the desperate.”
The Heaven-Human Cult lured desperate men to the Sword Tomb and handed them demonic swords.
But why? What did they hope to gain?
“Now I’ll learn the reason.”
Bu Eunseol changed into Yeon Baek-ryang’s clothes, donned the crimson ghost mask and demonic sword. Fortunately their builds were similar, so simply changing faces made him a perfect Ghost-Masked Envoy.
He had deliberately fought while confirming Yeon Baek-ryang’s true sword style to imitate him flawlessly, and to prevent recognition, he altered Yeon Baek-ryang’s face and dressed the corpse in his former clothes.
“Hm.” Having perfectly mastered the Art of Deceptive Enlightenment, Bu Eunseol immediately copied Yeon Baek-ryang’s voice.
“Ahem. Ahem.”
Then, with imposing steps, he walked toward the exit the Heaven-Human cultists had used.
‘How did they open the door?’
Recalling something, Bu Eunseol searched Yeon Baek-ryang’s robes.
He found a small metal whistle-shaped keyring.
‘This must be it.’ Inserting the whistle into the hole produced a clang and the heavy door opened.
“Envoy.” A cultist guarding the door bowed.
Bu Eunseol replied coldly. “The remaining ones?”
“They have all been treated and sent to the Sword Tomb.”
Bu Eunseol found that strange.
They had suffered deep chest wounds even if their hearts were untouched—yet all healed in that short time?
“I see.” Swallowing his questions, Bu Eunseol spoke coldly. “Dispose of that corpse.”
“Yes, sir.”
The cultists casually carried away Yeon Baek-ryang’s masked body.
Step. Step.
Bu Eunseol walked nonchalantly down the long corridor.
At the very end, stone stairs leading further down appeared.
Without hesitation he descended where damp air and a piercing moldy smell assaulted his nose.
Looking around, another long passage reminiscent of an underground cavern stretched ahead.
As he strode forward confidently, an enormous iron door soon loomed before him.
Standing at least nine meters tall, its surface was covered in incomprehensible patterns. Opening it wide felt like unleashing trapped demons that would destroy the world in an instant.
‘So this is the entrance to the Sword Tomb.’
Bu Eunseol narrowed his eyes as he examined the door.
There was only one door—yet six keyholes.
‘Hm.’
He pondered briefly.
The key the Ghost-Masked Envoy carried could only open the trial gates.
That meant Yeon Baek-ryang was neither high-ranking nor a core member of the Heaven-Human Cult.
He lacked authority to enter this place.
‘Then this must be an extremely important location.’
Bu Eunseol inspected the keyholes again.
Five showed signs of use, but the bottommost one was untouched.
After a moment’s thought, he placed his fingertips against the holes.
Crystal Divine Energy combined with Heavenly Glacial Secret poured out, filling the interior.
Crack.
Withdrawing his hand, he held an intricately crafted ice key.
Click.
Turning it slowly produced a low rumble.
But the door did not open—instead, the six keyholes merged back into one.
‘Impressive security.’
Once more he created an ice key with Crystal Divine Energy and Heavenly Glacial Secret and turned it.
Ruuuumble.
The massive door opened, revealing stairs leading further down.
‘If the previous door was the Sword Tomb entrance, then below must be beneath the Sword Tomb.’
If they built another space under the Sword Tomb, there had to be a reason.
Bu Eunseol intuitively knew descending would unravel the Sword Tomb’s secret.
Step. Step.
Reaching the bottom of the dark stairs, an indescribably foul and nauseating stench filled the air.
‘This smell…’
To Bu Eunseol, it was somewhat familiar.
The fishy reek of blood he had smelled endlessly during his days as a mortician.
Not from one or two people, but the overwhelming stench of blood spilled by dozens—hundreds—simultaneously.
As he descended, a vast chamber shrouded in darkness came into view, supported by enormous pillars.
Squelch.
The floor was soaked with viscous liquid—blood.
Looking up, long pipes crisscrossed the ceiling like spiderwebs four meters above.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
Blood continuously dripped from gaps in the pipes.
That was why the floor was wet.
Massive quantities of blood clearly flowed somewhere through those pipes.
“So that’s it.”
Finally, Bu Eunseol understood everything.
Why the Heaven-Human Cult spread rumors of discovering the Sword Tomb and continuously recruited large numbers of people.
“Sacrifices. They needed massive sacrifices.”
The Heaven-Human Cult had built the Sword Tomb and lured martial artists because they needed blood to awaken slumbering demonic swords.
“And without becoming public enemies of the martial world.”
Killing large numbers openly would leave traces no matter how secretly done.
So they devised this ingenious method to gather offerings for demonic swords.
“That explains it.”
The deep grooves in every trial’s floor had channeled blood to somewhere.
And collecting participants’ blood in empty containers during the final trial—
It must have been for awakening a special demonic sword.
“What kind of demonic sword requires such massive quantities of blood from people with specific conditions?”
The greater the demonic sword, the more blood it demanded—and sometimes blood from those meeting particular criteria.
Moreover, the blood they collected belonged to martial artists whose latent killing intent had exploded, consumed by bloodlust.
“And if it’s blood from those steeped in murderous frenzy…”
A chilling thought flashed through his mind.
The name of a legendary demonic sword that appeared once every hundred years in the martial world.
Demonic Sword, Thousand Souls Blood.
“Could the Heaven-Human Cult have created the Sword Tomb to awaken the Thousand Souls Blood Blade?”
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