How far is the boundary between life and death?
Bu Eunseol believed it was as thin as the edge of a sword. Each clash of blades determined life or death, the difference hinging on a single, sharp sword’s edge.
“Huff… huff…” Holding his sword aloft, Bu Eunseol panted heavily.
The tightly packed bookshelves had all toppled, and torn pages fluttered around him. With each clash, blood spilled from Bu Eunseol’s body, while the assassins lost their lifelines.
“Huff… huff…” Having simultaneously unleashed the Heavenly Tyrant Sword Momentum and practical swordsmanship, Bu Eunseol gasped for breath.
He had crossed countless lines of death, but never had a battle lasted this long. The blood pooling on the floor—whose was it? Friend or foe? His inner energy was depleted, his dantian aching, and the white lotus steel sword was now chipped and dull.
“Such a monster…” the remaining assassins muttered, hesitating.
Despite being drenched in blood and teetering on collapse, Bu Eunseol rose like a roly-poly, unleashing sword strikes.
“You…” Their words trailed off.
Staggering, Bu Eunseol unleashed another lightning-fast sword strike.
“Urk!” With low screams, the remaining assassins fell.
‘Is it over?’ The endless waves of assassins no longer appeared. But an hour hadn’t yet passed. Closing his eyes, Bu Eunseol pushed the Beast Way to its limit.
‘No, something’s still here.’ It was almost instinctual. Though the assassins were defeated, a chilling sensation lingered, as if an unseen demon bared its fangs in the dark.
As he stood silently for a quarter-hour,
Boom.
The secret room’s door burst open, and Dan So-ok rushed out. Unable to bear the silence and fear, she had opened the door.
“Are you okay?” she cried, rushing toward Bu Eunseol, soaked in blood.
“Step back,” he said sharply, opening his eyes and stepping in front of her, raising his sword to a mid-guard stance.
“Not bad. You sensed my presence,” a low voice said.
A dark figure emerged from the fluttering papers, wearing glossy black robes and long hair loose in two strands.
Swish.
Bu Eunseol felt an eerie pressure from the man. Behind him, it was as if a massive creature might leap out—a strange, unfamiliar oppression.
“Hm,” the man hummed, tilting his head as he studied Bu Eunseol. “Unexpected. You weren’t here before.”
From his words, Bu Eunseol deduced one thing: this had been planned long ago, before he arrived in Yueyang. ‘I joined six months ago. This was planned far earlier,’ he thought.
As if reading his mind, the man smiled faintly. “Correct. If someone like you had been here, our plans would’ve changed.”
His voice was calm, his movements natural. If this man acted, his power would shake the heavens and earth.
“Step aside now, and you’ll have a future,” the man said confidently, raising his fist. “And this isn’t because I doubt my chances!”
Suddenly, he clenched his fist, unleashing a shockwave that pushed Bu Eunseol back slightly. He had instantly released concentrated inner energy, revealing his profound mastery.
“Now, will you move?” the man asked, smiling confidently and glancing at So-ok behind Bu Eunseol. “Just step aside, and no harm will come to you.”
Bu Eunseol, having fought over a hundred assassins, was battered with countless wounds. His vision blurred from blood loss.
Steady.
Yet he straightened his back.
“Step aside?” he said, slowly channeling his inner energy.
These wounds, this crisis—they were nothing compared to what he’d endured.
A blood-red glint reignited in his dimming eyes.
“You won’t take a single step past me!”
Whoosh!
His surging inner energy whipped the man’s hair wildly.
“Ho…” the man said, realizing Bu Eunseol’s inner energy matched his own. He shook his head. “What a pity.”
He slowly drew his sword from his waist.
It was a peculiar blade—half an inch narrower and a foot longer than a standard longsword, its blade devoid of the usual metallic sheen.
His stance was unique. Instead of pointing the sword at Bu Eunseol, he raised it horizontally to his forehead, as if blocking light from the heavens.
“I’ll let you strike first,” the man said.
This was no assassin. Assassins’ swords were driven solely by the intent to kill, heedless of technique or first strikes.
Swish. Bu Eunseol responded by thrusting his sword.
Slow and seemingly weak, it was an unpredictable strike—one of the practical sword techniques honed through countless battles.
Swish!
As his shifting sword aimed for the man’s wrist,
Whoosh!
It felt as if a massive wave crashed over him.
Clang.
Bu Eunseol halted his attack, swinging his sword to protect his vital points, yet he still felt a tearing pressure.
‘Heavy sword!’ The man’s thin, long blade wielded a devastating heavy sword technique. ‘Don’t clash directly,’ Bu Eunseol thought.
The man, clearly a master of heavy swordplay, exerted immense pressure with minimal movement. A direct clash would shatter his weapon.
Hum.
Stepping back, Bu Eunseol swung his sword behind him, adopting a strange stance. A fearsome aura rose around him, forcing the man to halt his attack.
It was the Heavenly Tyrant Sword Momentum.
“Impressive technique!” the man said, intensifying his heavy sword’s destructive power, slashing and thrusting to pierce Bu Eunseol’s stance.
His strikes grazed Bu Eunseol’s skin, but he stood firm, countering with the Heavenly Tyrant Sword Momentum.
“You’re stalling for time!” the man realized, raising his sword skyward. “Block this!”
A crushing pressure descended, tearing at Bu Eunseol’s body—an ultimate heavy sword technique no ordinary skill could counter.
‘I was waiting for this!’ A brilliant light flashed in Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
He, too, could wield a heavy sword but had held back, luring the man into impatience and unleashing a powerful strike.
Clang!
With his right hand, Bu Eunseol unleashed a heavy sword technique, while his left drew the assassin’s blade hidden at his back.
Dual Mind, Dual Use Technique Technique.
As the man unleashed his massive pressure, Bu Eunseol countered with a heavy sword in his right and a swift sword in his left.
Crash! Boom!
An explosion sent both men reeling in opposite directions.
“Ugh.” Blood flowed from the man’s neck, but it wasn’t a fatal wound.
At the moment Bu Eunseol’s swift sword aimed to pierce his throat, the man expanded his heavy sword’s pressure, shattering both Bu Eunseol’s longsword and assassin’s blade.
“…” Though he’d blocked the attack, blood poured from his neck.
The blade hadn’t cut deep enough to threaten his life.
“You aimed for my lapse in guard,” the man said, nodding in admiration, though his eyes gleamed with murderous intent. “You’re too dangerous to let live.”
Clang.
For the first time, he raised his sword to a mid-guard stance.
Whoosh…
A powerful wind swirled around his blade, as if the world’s hidden forces gathered within it.
“Block this,” he said with a sinister smile, baring his fangs as he swung.
Rumble.
A sound like a waterfall crashing echoed from the distant sky—the sound of a master deploying a movement technique.
‘Woomun Hwang!’ The man’s eyes flashed as he prepared to strike. Woomun Hwang was a master equal to him. Bu Eunseol was a novice he could kill anytime, but facing Woomun Hwang now was out of the question.
Whoosh.
Distracted, his focus wavered, and the energy in his sword dimmed. The outcome was decided.
“Lucky bastard,” the man said, lowering his sword and glaring at Bu Eunseol. “I’ll kill you another day.”
Bu Eunseol met his gaze with cold, unwavering eyes. “That’s my line.”
“Heh heh,” the man chuckled darkly. “I’ll look forward to it.”
With those words, he vanished into the shadows. As Bu Eunseol stared, the man’s form disappeared completely.
Clang.
He drove his broken assassin’s blade into the ground.
Drip.
Dark blood trickled from his lips.
‘Such pressure from just a preparatory stance!’ The man had inflicted internal injuries with the sheer force of his starting stance.
“Mr. Tiger!” Dan So-ok cried, rushing to support him as he staggered. “Are you okay?”
Of course I’m fine. Internal injuries are nothing.
He wanted to say that, but his mouth wouldn’t move. Dan So-ok’s eyes were brimming with tears.
“Are you okay? You can’t die,” she said, trembling.
Worried he might collapse or close his eyes forever, she clung to him.
‘Would she be sad if I died?’ A foolish thought.
The treasured jewel of Majeon’s military commander, a genius chosen as the next chief strategist—why would someone of her stature mourn a mere Nine Deaths Squad operative?
‘Pointless thought,’ he decided, shaking his head and standing as he gazed at her tear-filled eyes.
“Bu Eunseol,” he said.
“What?”
“My name.”
“Eunseol… Bu Eunseol.”
Eunseol.
A name fitting his pale, almost translucent skin. Like the sorrow in his eyes, it was somehow poignant and beautiful.
“I see,” Dan So-ok said, wiping her tears and smiling. “I’ll remember it.”
She gazed at him, her eyes filled with affection, her cheeks flushed. Sensing something unusual, Bu Eunseol looked away, but her gaze followed him relentlessly.
Her eyes, brimming with emotion.
Boom!
A thunderous sound rang out as a gray figure landed in front of the bookstore—Woomun Hwang.
Swish!
Behind him, warriors in dark gray robes followed, their eyes gleaming like torches in the darkness—likely the military commander’s elite.
“Ok! Are you alright?” Woomun Hwang rushed forward, then paused.
Dan So-ok, covered in dust and blood, stood close to Bu Eunseol, gazing at him.
“Yes, yes,” she said, snapping out of it and stepping away calmly. “Thanks to… Mr. Tiger.”
Bang!
The bookstore’s door burst open, and a booming voice echoed.
“Number Eighteen! We’re here to help!” Bu Eunseol turned to see Shang Liang and Ma Yun, their clothes in tatters and drenched in blood, rushing in. “We held the line, but a few slipped through! So we took care of them and—”
Shang Liang and Ma Yun froze, taking in the scene.
The bookstore was piled with assassin corpses, far more than they’d killed.
“Not just a few, huh? Haha,” Shang Liang laughed awkwardly.
“Seems so. We thought only a few got through, haha,” Ma Yun added.
As they exchanged sheepish grins,
“You worked hard. Thank you,” Woomun Hwang said, gripping Bu Eunseol’s shoulder, pride cast aside.
If he’d listened to Bu Eunseol, this danger could’ve been avoided. Without his life-risking fight, Dan So-ok would be a cold corpse.
“It was my duty,” Bu Eunseol said flatly, devoid of emotion.
The old Woomun Hwang would’ve erupted at such a response. ‘What a man,’ he thought now, finding Bu Eunseol’s curt tone reliable and strong.
“Have their identities been uncovered?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“Nothing. Not their sect, not even if they’re orthodox or unorthodox,” Woomun Hwang said bitterly. “The sect’s experts examined their weapons and clothing, but found no origin. They were prepared to leave no trace.”
Gritting his teeth, he continued, “We’ll return to the main sect and hunt down those responsible.”
His voice trailed off, but the implication was clear.
‘A storm of blood will sweep the martial world,’ Bu Eunseol thought.
The military commander was a fearsome figure, rivaling the leaders of the Ten Demonic Sects. Dan So-ok, backed by the sect’s elders, held immense influence.
Those behind this would pay dearly.
“You both worked hard too,” Dan So-ok said, smiling at the Twin Demons.
They grinned broadly and bowed. “You’re too kind!”
“Exactly. We just did our job.”
“Uncle, these two are from the Yueyang branch…” Dan So-ok began.
“I know,” Woomun Hwang cut in coldly, leading her to the carriage. “Let’s go.”
Ma Yun grimaced. “Damn, can’t that old man say something nice? Just walks off like it’s nothing.”
Shang Liang chuckled, shaking his head. “The young lady already promised. She’s not one to make empty promises. Good news is coming.”
In the carriage, Dan So-ok kept glancing at Bu Eunseol through the window.
Misinterpreting her gaze, Woomun Hwang said, “The Gong Twin Demons are just Yueyang branch members. No need to think this is special.”
“Yes, Uncle,” she replied, but her eyes remained fixed on Bu Eunseol, standing in the ruined bookstore.
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