Yoo Hwaryeong hurriedly ran in front of Bu Eunseol and said, “How can you sever human ties so coldly?”
“You’re the one who severed them,” Bu Eunseol replied.
“No, I mean, even if they were villains, how could you act so ruthlessly without hesitation…?” Muttering softly, Yoo Hwaryeong suddenly seemed to recall something and whispered, “I see… That’s why my masters wanted someone like you.”
Shaking his head, Yoo Hwaryeong’s expression was bitter and pained.
“I only wanted to offer you some advice. Let’s continue as planned.” Though he said this, his expression was heavy with emotion.
As a swordsman of the Thousand Swords Society with exceptional martial skills, he seemed to have a heart too soft for the task.
“Great Hero Yoo,” said Black Leopard cautiously, observing him. “Don’t judge yet. Watch our young master for a few more days, and you’ll understand why he acts this way.”
“What do you mean?” Yoo Hwaryeong asked.
“The martial world is a harsh place,” Black Leopard continued calmly but carefully. “There will surely be an endless stream of people targeting our young master’s sword. Do you believe such things won’t happen?”
“Of course not,” Yoo Hwaryeong replied firmly.
“Do you truly believe that?” Black Leopard pressed.
Yoo Hwaryeong nodded confidently. “Sichuan is full of renowned martial heroes. Such incidents are rare.”
“Very well, then let’s make a wager,” Black Leopard proposed.
“A wager?”
Black Leopard nodded. “If no one tries to steal the sword in the next few days, I’ll build a shrine for the Three Ghosts of Yezhong and mourn them for three years.”
“Hah,” Yoo Hwaryeong exclaimed.
“But if such incidents keep happening, please refrain from criticizing our young master’s ruthless methods.”
Yoo Hwaryeong looked at Black Leopard anew. He had thought him merely a hired servant, but it was clear he held deep loyalty to Bu Eunseol.
“Fine,” Yoo Hwaryeong agreed confidently. “Let’s do it.”
As a disciple of the Thousand Swords Society with wide connections in the martial world, he believed he could prevent such incidents from occurring again.
But how could he have known? Bu Eunseol seemed to provoke a strange hostility in villains. And when his eyes met those with ill intent, conflict was inevitable…
A few days later, inside the second floor of Sehyangdaru.
Crash!
The body of Seok Ilgun, one of the Nine Phantom Twin Daggers who had provoked a fight to steal Bu Eunseol’s black sword, smashed through a table.
Shatter!
Seizing the moment, Ung Gyeom, an assassin from the Bing Salmun sect, attempted a sneak attack but was sent crashing through a window.
“…” Yoo Hwaryeong, holding a teacup, stared wide-eyed at the scene.
This was already the third time. People starting fights and attempting ambushes to steal the black sword…
It was as if some madness had taken hold. Masters coveting the divine sword would lock eyes with Bu Eunseol, and without fail, a fight would break out. And just as predictably, they would end up beaten to a pulp and sent flying.
“Ugh…” Yoo Hwaryeong set down his teacup, his shoulders slumping.
He had traveled the martial world for years after leaving the Thousand Swords Society, but he had never seen someone attract trouble as frequently as Bu Eunseol.
‘It’s like iron filings drawn to a magnet!’ he thought. It seemed as if all the villains in Sichuan were swarming around Bu Eunseol.
“Divine swords aren’t that rare in the martial world. So why does this keep happening to him?” The truth lay in Bu Eunseol’s striking appearance.
Though tall, his features were more refined than those of most beautiful women. His face was smooth, his figure slender, more akin to a pampered young master from a wealthy family than a martial artist.
In short, his delicate appearance disarmed even children, let alone hostile martial artists, who felt emboldened to start fights without hesitation.
‘If it were just the rogues of the demonic path causing trouble, I could understand…’ Yoo Hwaryeong thought.
But in recent days, those who had challenged Bu Eunseol included renowned righteous heroes, rising stars, and even figures like the Jade Sword and the Storm Dragon. In other words, the desire for the divine sword transcended the boundaries of righteous and unorthodox factions.
As Yoo Hwaryeong stared blankly at the broken window, Black Leopard spoke with a sly smile.
“Well? Do you still think our young master is needlessly cruel?”
“Ahem,” Yoo Hwaryeong cleared his throat, at a loss for words.
From Bu Eunseol’s perspective, not striking decisively would be abnormal. Countless people, day and night, were after his life to steal the black sword. If he didn’t make examples of them, such incidents would never cease.
“I admit I was hasty,” Yoo Hwaryeong sighed deeply, clasping his hands toward Bu Eunseol. “I owe you an apology. I’m sorry.”
Bu Eunseol shook his head as if it were no matter. “Don’t worry about it.”
Night had fallen.
Exhausted from the past few days, Yoo Hwaryeong fell into a deep sleep as soon as they entered the inn. Black Leopard sat in a corner, engrossed in a secret martial arts manual given to him by Bu Eunseol.
“Hmm,” Bu Eunseol said softly, glancing at Black Leopard. “Don’t stay there. Read at the table.”
“I’m fine,” Black Leopard replied.
“I’m stepping out for a bit anyway.”
As Bu Eunseol stood, Black Leopard closed the book and rose. “Are you hungry? Shall I find a good tavern nearby?”
“Just going for some fresh air.” Stepping outside the inn, Bu Eunseol used his Swift Beyond Shadow to leap onto the roof of a tall pavilion.
‘It’s about time to practice my fist techniques,’ he thought. Ever since reading the secret manual of the Fist Demon, he had been consumed with thoughts of its principles, day and night.
He had even wondered if he could integrate sword techniques with fist techniques. The Fist Demon’s teachings were etched into his mind like a brand. Now that the number of people targeting his sword had dwindled, he intended to practice.
Whoosh.
Moving like a gust of wind, Bu Eunseol headed toward a forest far from the village. Spotting a bamboo grove lush with green leaves, he stood under the moonlight, recalling the Fist Demon’s manual.
Swish.
Drawing a semicircle, Bu Eunseol unleashed the first move of the Fist Demon’s technique.
The Single Body Limb Method states: “The principles of using the body and limbs are not vastly different from wielding a sword.”
But the Fist Demon’s techniques were entirely unique, unbound by any martial principle, employing moves with unrestrained intent. This was rooted in the confidence that one could shatter an opponent’s technique before it could even be executed.
Whoosh!
As Bu Eunseol threw a punch, a sonic boom erupted, and a powerful gust followed.
Crack!
The bamboo in front of him vanished, shattered into pieces by the devastating force.
“This isn’t right,” Bu Eunseol muttered, shaking his head in dissatisfaction.
The Fist Demon’s techniques weren’t just about raw power; they needed to reach the realm of No Trace, leaving no evidence of their use.
Whoosh!
He struck again, and another bamboo shattered. This time, the gust was less pronounced, and the sound quieter, but it was still far from the realm of No Trace.
‘Take it slow,’ he told himself.
Mastering the Fist Demon’s techniques was akin to reaching the ultimate truth of the sword. It couldn’t be achieved in a single stroke, and even a lifetime of practice might not yield perfection.
Rustle.
A faint sound reached his ears, detectable only by someone trained in the Beast Way like Bu Eunseol.
Whoosh!
He unleashed another punch, its force sweeping through the bamboo grove ten paces away like a sword’s energy.
“Impressive fist technique,” came a voice.
The figure in the bamboo grove didn’t block the force but instead leapt into the air.
Whoosh!
Spinning like a top, the shadow dissipated the force midair. It was the most dazzling and intricate movement technique Bu Eunseol had seen since entering the martial world.
Thud.
The figure landed, revealing a sturdy man dressed in yellow robes. He approached Bu Eunseol and clasped his hands respectfully.
“My apologies. I was passing by and unintentionally witnessed your practice.” Observing another’s martial arts training was taboo in the martial world, but the man stood confidently, hands clasped.
“If it’s not too presumptuous, I’d like to offer this as an apology.” From a leather pouch, he produced a golden flower—a Pear Blossom Leaf, a hidden weapon carried only by direct descendants of the Sichuan Tang Clan.
The pear tree is the most famous and common symbol in Sichuan. The Tang Clan had fashioned the pear blossom and its leaves into their emblem, the Pear Blossom Leaf.
Bu Eunseol stared at the token.
For a master of one of the Eight Great Families to offer their clan’s emblem carried immense significance, reserved for true allies or close friends.
“I am Tang Gon,” the man in yellow said, smiling and clasping his hands. “And you are?”
Bu Eunseol looked at the Pear Blossom Leaf with a cold expression. “Why are you giving this to me?”
“Even from that single move, I can see the heights you’ve reached,” Tang Gon replied.
“Does high martial skill mean I’m worthy of the Tang Clan’s company?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“That’s not what I meant. I simply felt a liking for you.”
“You haven’t considered that I might be a vile demonic practitioner or a master of the demonic path?” Bu Eunseol’s gaze was icy. If Tang Gon harbored any hostility, that cold stare would have sparked anger or killing intent.
But Tang Gon laughed heartily. “Hahaha. Our clan has ties not only with the righteous factions but also with many demonic sects. Being a master of the demonic path doesn’t matter… And if you were a true villain, I’d have to question my own judgment.”
Tang Gon spoke with the confidence of a direct descendant of one of the Eight Great Families, boasting both exceptional martial skills and keen discernment.
“Will you accept it?” he asked.
Bu Eunseol studied him. Tang Gon’s eyes were not only confident but sparkled with goodwill. Accepting this would mean no one in Sichuan would dare challenge Bu Eunseol. It would also mark the first time he made a friend in the martial world.
“The martial world is a treacherous place. Trust no one… and stay cautious.”
The final words of the Gong Twin Demons echoed in his mind. Though they were from the same sect, they had ended up as enemies, taking each other’s lives.
“Hmm,” Bu Eunseol let out a soft groan and shook his head.
Flick.
He tossed the Pear Blossom Leaf back to Tang Gon.
“Am I unworthy of being your friend?” Tang Gon asked, his face hardening.
Bu Eunseol shook his head, his eyes dry and cold. “The martial world has no need for friends.”
“Why not?”
“Because you never know when you’ll have to cross blades with them.”
Tang Gon seemed to ponder this, then sighed deeply. “That may be true.”
Even within the Tang Clan, blood relatives were engaged in fierce struggles over the position of sect leader. No matter how strong a bond, in the martial world, conflicting interests could turn friends into enemies.
“But I should at least have the right to know your name,” Tang Gon said.
“Bu Eunseol.”
Tang Gon let out an “Ah” of recognition. “The champion of the Dongpyoseorang Jeongmu Tournament, the rising star who appeared like a comet in the martial world—that’s you.”
Bu Eunseol turned away without responding.
“But you should know this,” Tang Gon said with a faint smile. “In the martial world, there are also friendships worth risking your life for.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bu Eunseol replied.
Bu Eunseol and Tang Gon turned away from each other.
Yet, as if by agreement, both wore faint smiles on their faces.
Comments