The three masked warriors burst into incredulous laughter.
“So the two of you think you can win together?”
“Looks that way.”
“After tasting the Three Severance Demon Lord’s Three Severance Arts, you still dare say such things?”
The trio sneered and whispered among themselves, but Bu Eunseol and Bukgung Ryeong paid them no mind and kept bickering.
“You bastards!”
Unable to stand it any longer, the masked man in front unleashed a palm strike.
A ferocious wave of qi instantly formed around Bu Eunseol and Bukgung Ryeong, then exploded with a thunderous roar.
It was the First Severance of the Three Severance Demonic Arts: Demon Dragon Blast.
BOOM.
Yet the blast crashed harmlessly against a massive black wall.
Bu Eunseol had already blocked it with the Wishful True Binding.
“These fools dare interrupt while we’re talking!”
Purple lightning shot from Bukgung Ryeong’s hand as he soared into the air.
He had fired his Purple Lightning Golden Rings.
“Hmph.” The second masked man snorted, stretched both hands up and down into the Heaven-Earth Severing Stance, and formed a swirling dome of protective qi around the three of them.
The rings were effortlessly repelled.
Second Severance: Golden Vortex Rebound Energy.
Whiiiii—!
At the same instant, a whistle-like sound rang out.
It began faint, almost inaudible, then suddenly transformed into a shrieking sonic boom that tore at the ears.
A razor-sharp blade qi streaked down toward Bukgung Ryeong’s vital points.
Third Severance: Remnant Blood Remnant Thunder Blade.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
But Bu Eunseol had already drawn the Silent Tiger Soul Sword and stepped forward, deflecting every last strand of the blade qi.
“……!”
The three masked men’s faces twisted.
The martial arts they had inherited from the Three Severance Demon Lord were supposed to be beyond even the Bullet King’s ability to withstand.
Yet with Bu Eunseol standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him, possessing comparable might, the Three Severance Arts had suddenly become… ordinary.
They looked like the mediocre techniques taught at some third-rate martial school run by a washed-up master.
BOOM!
The masked man trying to block Bu Eunseol’s sword strikes was struck full-force by Bukgung Ryeong’s golden ring and vomited blood.
“Urgh!”
The one dodging the golden ring lost an arm to Bu Eunseol’s Nine Dragons Flashing Thunder.
“That one’s mine!”
“Let him go!”
Bu Eunseol and Bukgung Ryeong grew irritated as the enemies they targeted kept getting wounded by the other’s moves.
“Don’t interfere!”
“Who’s interfering?!”
Finally, after exchanging a glance, the two unleashed their techniques simultaneously.
KWAAAAAAA—!
Bu Eunseol’s Waning Moon, Dawn Star and Bukgung Ryeong’s Purple Lightning Golden Rings flew as one.
“N-No—!”
The masked man preparing another Demon Dragon Blast could only scream, mouth agape.
Slash! BOOM!
Struck by both sword strike and golden ring at once, his body was torn apart and exploded in all directions.
Thud-thud.
The two injured survivors trembled as they stared at Bu Eunseol.
“You… you are the successor of Majeon.”
In the entire history of the martial world, the supreme masters who had sat upon the thrones of the Four Gods and Seven Kings had never once joined forces in combined attack.
Yet when Bu Eunseol and Bukgung Ryeong—still bickering—unleashed their arts together, the resulting power surpassed even splitting heaven and earth.
Even if the real Three Severance Demon Lord crawled out of his grave, he could not have blocked it.
Whoosh!
Realizing victory was impossible, the two remaining masked men instantly severed their own heart meridians and committed suicide.
Thud.
As the corpses collapsed in pools of blood, Bukgung Ryeong grumbled with a sour, irritated expression.
“Damn it. Now it looks like I only survived because I teamed up with you.”
FWOOOM!
Paying no attention to the old man’s complaints, Bu Eunseol poured the Ten Extremities True Qi into the three bodies and began incinerating them with intense heat.
“Hey, is there really a need to desecrate corpses that already killed themselves?”
Unable to watch any longer, Bukgung Ryeong spoke up. Bu Eunseol sighed.
“You still don’t run any intelligence network, do you?”
“What?”
“The Returning to One Realm uses corpses to extract the lifetime power of former supreme masters through their great method. The bodies must be burned completely.”
“Wait—Returning to One Realm?”
With no choice, Bu Eunseol recounted everything he had witnessed on Cold Moon Island.
Bukgung Ryeong listened for a long while, then stood there dumbfounded, mouth hanging open.
“That… that makes any sense? That’s not martial arts anymore—it’s closer to sorcery.”
“The Three Realms have been reviving long-extinct sorcerous sects all this time, haven’t they? Restoring lost sorcery and great methods wouldn’t be difficult for them.”
“Haa…”
Bukgung Ryeong let out a deep, weary sigh and shook his head.
Even when he first learned of the Three Realms that controlled the martial world from the shadows, he had believed he could handle them alone with his own strength.
But as time passed, he realized their roots ran deeper and wider than imagination, and that his power alone was insufficient.
‘Yet this fellow…’
Bu Eunseol was different.
The Three Realms that Bukgung Ryeong had chased for over thirty years without ever grasping their tail—this young man was unraveling their forces one by one in mere years, steadily dismantling them piece by piece.
“I feel ashamed.”
As Bukgung Ryeong hung his head in dejection, Bu Eunseol saw through him and shook his own head.
“No need for self-reproach. I told you before—the era of lone wolves in the martial world is over.”
“So what would you have this old man do? Spend my whole life striding alone through the martial world, and now suddenly start laughing and making friends? Or should I make a Bullet King Clan or something?”
Bukgung Ryeong shouted in frustration. Bu Eunseol replied calmly,
“What are you worried about? There’s a place that will provide tremendous intelligence and capable subordinates the moment you decide—the Martial Alliance.”
He spoke firmly.
“Anyway, because of some star or whatever, you’ve become a target of the Three Realms. If you’re not coming to my headquarters, then go there instead.”
“Star?”
“Yes.”
“Which one?”
With no choice, Bu Eunseol explained everything—from his meeting with Yangseol Rin and the matter of the Earth-Killing Star, to discovering the glass tube labeled with Bukgung Ryeong’s name beneath Cold Moon Island.
“Haa…”
Bukgung Ryeong’s eyes narrowed.
Legendary clans and existences passed down like myths were appearing one after another in reality.
“So the Three Realms that have controlled the martial world all this time aren’t the hidden power—they’re the exposed one, and there’s another layer beneath them?”
“Something like that.”
“And you’re telling me to go join that disgusting nest called the Martial Alliance? I refuse.”
“A lotus does not get wet in muddy water.”
When Bukgung Ryeong flatly refused, Bu Eunseol persuaded him gently once more.
“A person can change where he stands depending on the mind he keeps. Just don’t get stained and do what is right.”
“Hmm…”
“Think of it not as going to the Martial Alliance to save your life, but as entering to do what is right.”
At Bu Eunseol’s words, Bukgung Ryeong wore a sheepish expression.
Not a single word was wrong.
Joining the Alliance didn’t mean he had to become like them.
If he took the lead in doing what was right, he could even guide them toward good.
‘Just what has this kid lived through to gain such insight at his age?’
Bukgung Ryeong inwardly marveled at Bu Eunseol.
What kind of life had forged such profound wisdom in one so young?
“Fine.”
Bukgung Ryeong nodded and looked straight at him.
“I’ll go to the Martial Alliance.”
The age of lone wolves was truly over.
Bukgung Ryeong, too, now had to build a force like Bu Eunseol and stand against the Three Realms.
Leaving Ghost Island, Bu Eunseol parted ways with Bukgung Ryeong and headed straight for Majeon.
Having learned the shocking actions and goals of the Realm of Returning to One, he could no longer sit idly by.
Unlike the Infinite Realm or the Clear River Realm, the Returning to One Realm was trying to create new supreme masters by using the bodies of past legendary masters as vessels for their great method.
Regardless of orthodox or demonic, such deeds could never be tolerated.
Should he not inform all the leaders of the martial world about this? The thought consumed him.
‘No—Majeon will not do.’
The Chief Instructor could not be trusted.
Even if the Demon Emperor had ended his seclusion and was present in Majeon, it would be the same.
Though Majeon was his home base, he could not discuss the Three Realms with them.
Because although they were not part of the Three Realms, they maintained extremely close ties with them.
‘Then…’
Bu Eunseol gazed at the distant sky.
He had a home.
And in that home were elders of the family.
Nangyang Pavilion.
He was heading to Nangyang Pavilion.
***
“It’s grown even larger.”
Reaching the foot of Iron Staff Mountain, Bu Eunseol looked around and widened his eyes.
Originally, one had to climb halfway up the mountain to reach Nangyang Pavilion.
Now the entire mountain might as well belong to them—so vastly had they expanded.
“The days of being called an elite few are truly gone.”
Once feared as a demonic sect that turned martial-crazed cripples into half-dead monsters, it had become a faction that demonic prodigies flocked to without cease just to learn martial arts.
It now rivaled the splendor of the Hwa Wu Sword Sect, which sat at the head of the Ten Great Demonic Sects.
“Yet nothing essential has changed.”
A proud smile tugged at Bu Eunseol’s lips as he surveyed Iron Staff Mountain.
Any ordinary sect would have erected grand, ornate buildings to display their newfound prestige and authority as their size grew.
But Nangyang Pavilion had only added more dormitories for disciples and countless training halls and drill grounds.
Moreover, as the number of disciples increased, rather than rely on support from the Affectionate Blossom Sect, they sought self-sufficiency—expanding the fields that once surrounded only the pavilion to cover the entire mountain.
—No matter what task you perform, fuse it with martial training!
The instructors made disciples plow fields and draw water while simultaneously forging their bodies.
Thus half of Iron Staff Mountain had become training grounds for martial practice, the other half fields growing every kind of crop.
“This is something only our pavilion can do.”
To other sects, disciples plowing fields and carrying water might look ridiculous.
But to Bu Eunseol’s eyes, it was a terrifying hall of demons where true martial artists researched the arts day and night, awake or asleep.
They pondered martial forms even while tilling, contemplated countless principles while drawing water.
No matter their station or circumstance, Nangyang Pavilion never forgot its essence—it pursued only the ultimate path of the martial way.
Step, step.
Entering the pavilion grounds, he spotted a small new pavilion that hadn’t been there before.
Two old men sat inside playing Go.
Iron Master Wang Geol and the Demonic Sword Master who had forged Bu Eunseol’s scabbard.
‘Playing immortal games, I see.’
Bu Eunseol smiled silently.
With disciples now filling the mountain, Nangyang Pavilion had hired dedicated martial instructors like the Hwa Wu Sword Sect and elevated So Jeon, former leader of the Spear God Corps, to Chief Instructor.
So Jeon had reluctantly accepted the position, passing the Spear God Corps leadership to his former vice-captain, Je Woon.
The transfer of power between old and new generations had begun.
Thanks to that, Wang Geol—who had quietly acted as chief instructor until then—could now enjoy a relaxed retirement.
“Iron Master, Demonic Sword Master.”
Bu Eunseol bowed politely.
“What brings you here?”
Wang Geol, holding a Go stone, blinked in surprise upon seeing him.
“Without even sending word.”
He glanced at the Demonic Sword Master and made an “ah” sound.
“Here to make this old man swing the hammer again? Why do you never keep your promises?”
“That would never happen.”
Bu Eunseol scratched his head awkwardly.
“Back then I had unavoidable circumstances and had to ask again.”
The Demonic Sword Master waved his hand dismissively.
“Enough. I said I’m fine, so why are you butting in?”
“No, this kid suddenly showed up at the pavilion again—”
“It’s his own home. Why fuss over him coming home?”
The craftsman glared at Wang Geol.
“Trying to stall for time again? Stop wasting moves and play.”
“Urgh.”
Wang Geol swallowed a groan—he had been using Bu Eunseol as an excuse to delay.
He prided himself on national-master level Go, yet he seemed one step behind the Demonic Sword Master.
“I was just passing by. Please continue your game in peace.”
Bu Eunseol gave a brief bow and walked on; the two elders nodded and returned to their board.
“HAAP!”
Reaching the heart of the pavilion, thunderous shouts echoed from every training ground.
Young boys not even ten years old were learning the basics of martial arts from Nangyang’s young instructors.
Demonic clans determined to teach their children the arts had sent them here early.
As long as they had talent, even orphans were accepted—beggars and vagrants too.
Once word spread, prodigies began walking in on their own feet.
“My Lord!”
A young instructor teaching the children spotted Bu Eunseol and came running, panting.
It was Gang Un, one of the children once kidnapped by the Sahyang Clan and rescued by Bu Eunseol.
“What brings you here?”
Every bright-eyed child on the training ground turned to look at Bu Eunseol.
“Just passing through. Don’t mind me, carry on.”
“Y-Yes, sir.”
Gang Un returned to his spot, but the children’s gazes remained fixed on Bu Eunseol.
—That’s the Martial Soul Command Lord?
—Looks like it. They said he’s incredibly handsome and very tall.
Murmur, murmur.
These snot-nosed kids had come to Nangyang Pavilion for one reason: the legendary rise of the man who began as one of the Ten Demon Warriors of Nangyang and became heir to Majeon practically started here.
They wished to follow only in Bu Eunseol’s footsteps.
—But he doesn’t look like he knows any martial arts at all.
—Maybe it’s someone else? I heard Majeon has several young lords.
The children blinked in confusion.
Then a lanky man approached from afar, yawning.
It was Je Woon, the new leader of the Spear God Corps.
“Bu Eunseol? What brings you here all of a sudden?”
His voice wasn’t loud, yet it rang throughout the quiet interior of Iron Staff Mountain.
Crash! Bang!
Doors burst open, water yokes were thrown down, people tripped while running—
All manner of noise erupted.
Rumble—!
Like a herd of cattle stampeding, every disciple—whether plowing fields, drawing water, studying texts in the martial halls, or practicing forms on the training grounds—came rushing toward Bu Eunseol.
—That’s the Martial Soul Command Lord!
They dared not approach too closely, gazing at him from afar with faces full of awe.
The next Leader of the Demonic Path.
Not a single person doubted he would soon sit upon the highest throne of the demonic faction.
Bu Eunseol met each disciple’s eyes with a gentle smile.
It was all he could give them right now.
“What is all this commotion?!”
A booming voice thundered as a giant middle-aged man roared at the gathered disciples.
“Who gave permission to abandon training and run around?!”
It was So Jeon, who had succeeded Wang Geol as Chief Instructor of Nangyang Pavilion.
“Chief Instructor.”
Bu Eunseol bowed. So Jeon gave a wry laugh.
“I wondered what the ruckus was—turns out it’s you.”
His aura as Chief Instructor had grown even more rugged and fierce.
“Here to see the Vice-Pavilion Master?”
“Yes.”
“Then hurry along. If you stay here, the kids will be too distracted to accomplish anything.”
“My apologies.”
“Apologies for what?”
So Jeon looked calmly at Bu Eunseol’s face and asked,
“Is everything alright?”
He had noticed that though Bu Eunseol smiled, a long shadow lingered in his eyes.
“Of course.”
Meeting So Jeon’s steady gaze, warmth spread through one corner of Bu Eunseol’s heart.
No matter how high he rose or how great his martial prowess became, before the people of Nangyang Pavilion, he was forever just the youngest disciple.
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