Taking a deep breath, Seok Song looked at the gathered individuals and spoke in a low voice. “That man is a demon.”
Demon.
To some, it was a common term. But when Seok Song uttered it, the stone chamber seemed to darken, as if thunder rumbled somewhere in the distance.
“He was originally a disciple of the First Seat,” Seok Song continued, exhaling heavily. “But his exceptional talent led all the swordsmen, even the assembly leader, to train him.”
Biting his lip, he spoke as if expelling something lodged in his throat. “The assembly believed he would become the greatest in the world, watching as he rapidly absorbed every sword technique. But…”
Seok Song’s voice trembled. “That demon was a spy sent to infiltrate our assembly. Once he mastered all our sword techniques, he slaughtered our masters one by one.”
So that was the Thousand Swords Society’s hidden history!
They hadn’t operated in secrecy like a mythical dragon by choice; their masters had been killed, rendering them unable to act.
“I have a question,” said the man in the yellow dragon mask after a brief silence, his voice low. “Did that man truly kill the assembly leader and swordsmen single-handedly?”
“Yes,” Seok Song replied.
A deathly silence fell over the chamber again. Seok Song’s single sword technique earlier had shown his prowess was at the pinnacle of the martial world. Yet a lone individual capable of assassinating the assembly’s leader and swordsmen existed?
“That doesn’t add up,” said the man in the ox mask, shaking his head. “How could we possibly defeat such a master alone?”
“That’s why we’re passing down this sword technique,” Seok Song said, clenching his fist and grinding his teeth. “To ensure you can defeat him!”
Bu Eunseol finally understood the situation. The Thousand Swords Society had created the sword technique to kill their enemy but couldn’t master it themselves. So, they sought prodigies with innate killing intent to learn it and exact their revenge.
“Even mastering a supreme sword technique doesn’t guarantee we could kill such a master,” the ox-masked man said.
Seok Song nodded. “Of course. But his swordsmanship has a fatal weakness.”
“A weakness?” the ox-masked man asked.
“Due to practicing soft techniques like the Yogic Martial Arts, his joints and muscles are excessively flexible,” Seok Song explained. “While such a physique allows him to easily master supreme sword techniques…”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes, beneath his rabbit mask, blazed like burning coals. “Yogic Arts? Which Yogic Arts?”
Startled by the sudden question, Seok Song frowned. “I don’t know exactly. If not the Indian Yogic Arts, then perhaps the Central Plains’ Lingjiao Yogic Arts.”
“How old is he?” Bu Eunseol pressed. “What’s his age now?”
Though puzzled by the frantic questions, Seok Song answered, “He was in his late twenties back then, so… around forty now.”
“What about his swordsmanship? What kind did he use?”
“He used the techniques we taught him,” Seok Song said, “as if mocking us.” As Bu Eunseol opened his mouth to ask more, Seok Song raised a hand. “Enough questions.”
Looking around, he asked, “Will you swear the oath?”
The ox-masked man, who had been deep in thought, spoke first. “I refuse.”
“No one’s forcing you. Leave now,” Seok Song said.
“Very well.” The ox-masked man clasped his hands, turned without hesitation, and left through the exit.
Watching him, Seok Song took a deep breath and asked again, “To those who remain, I ask once more: Will you swear to kill one man in exchange for learning the sword technique?”
“I have a question,” said the yellow dragon-masked man, stepping forward. “Is this demon part of the righteous factions?”
“That, I cannot say,” Seok Song replied. “All I can tell you is that he was a spy sent to infiltrate our assembly.”
The yellow dragon-masked man nodded. “Then I can’t do it.” He spoke bitterly. “You call him a demon, but we don’t know the full story.”
Without hesitation, he turned to leave. “Even if your words are entirely true, if he’s from the righteous factions, I cannot kill him.”
“I understand,” Seok Song said.
“I’ll take my leave.”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes gleamed as he watched the imposing yellow dragon-masked man depart. He’s likely a great master from the Huashan Sect.
The man’s aura was like a mountain, impressive even to Bu Eunseol. Moreover, his kicks in the second trial closely resembled the Thirty-Six Paths of Taiyue Three Purity Leg Techniques.
“If you can’t tell us whether this demon is from the righteous or demonic factions… fine,” said the tiger-masked man. “Then where is he? Can we kill him now?”
Seok Song shook his head. “We’ve been using all our resources to track him, but… we haven’t found him yet. We’re still searching.”
The tiger-masked man sighed. “Then I can’t do it either.” He shook his head. “I have many responsibilities ahead. If I’m suddenly asked to kill someone while handling important matters, that’s too much.”
Judging by his tone, the tiger-masked man was likely middle-aged and held a high position.
“That’s understandable,” Seok Song nodded.
The tiger-masked man turned to Bu Eunseol and Tang Gon. “You two were impressive earlier. If we meet in the martial world, let’s spar without masks.”
His tone was belligerent yet hearty.
“It was a pleasure,” he said, clasping his hands to Seok Song and Woo Hak before leaving.
Only Tang Gon and Bu Eunseol remained.
“I refuse as well,” said Tang Gon, the fox-masked man, shaking his head. “I have unresolved matters. Learning a sword technique shouldn’t entangle me in another sect’s grudges.”
Seok Song and Woo Hak’s expressions darkened at Tang Gon’s response.
“Understood,” Seok Song said.
Tang Gon clasped his hands, gave Bu Eunseol a slight nod, and left without hesitation.
“Are you the same?” Seok Song asked Bu Eunseol.
“I’ll do it,” Bu Eunseol replied calmly.
“You’ll swear the oath?”
“Yes.”
The quick response made Seok Song and Woo Hak exchange skeptical glances.
“Think carefully before answering,” Woo Hak said sternly. “If you learn the technique but fail to keep your oath, the entire force of our assembly will hunt you down first.”
He seemed to think Bu Eunseol was making the oath lightly to gain the technique.
“Though our key figures were killed, our assembly’s strength remains formidable. Even if you were the leader of one of the Nine Great Sects, you couldn’t escape our pursuit…”
“I understand,” Bu Eunseol interrupted.
Woo Hak raised an eyebrow. “What do you understand?”
“You’ve built such intricate mechanisms and structures here at Geumjeongsan,” Bu Eunseol said. “Your financial power alone rivals the Nine Great Sects or the Eight Great Families, doesn’t it?”
Woo Hak nodded slightly, impressed by Bu Eunseol’s deduction. “Exactly. So decide carefully. This oath concerns your life.”
“I swear,” Bu Eunseol said without hesitation. “I will kill the fiend who massacred the Thousand Swords Society’s swordsmen with my own hands. But… not for the sake of the sword technique.”
Realizing something long forgotten, Bu Eunseol looked at Seok Song and Woo Hak. “It’s because… that fiend might be the person I’m searching for.”
Beneath his rabbit mask, Bu Eunseol’s eyes glinted with blood-red intensity, radiating a killing intent that could tear the heavens apart—the very quality Seok Song and Woo Hak had dreamed of finding.
***
Woo Hak led Bu Eunseol back to the wide clearing where the first trial had been held.
“Are you ready to learn the sword technique?” Seok Song asked.
Bu Eunseol nodded.
Seok Song and Woo Hak exchanged a glance, then simultaneously stomped their feet.
Rumble.
With the sound of moving mechanisms, a wall rose from the center of the clearing.
Bu Eunseol’s eyes widened slightly. This wall was five times larger than the one from the first trial, nearly three jang (about nine meters) tall, resembling a massive cliff.
This is the original painting.
Bu Eunseol realized the source of the unease he’d felt earlier. The painting of the woman fighting a tiger in the snowy mountains was merely a fragment of this larger wall.
“You’re correct,” Woo Hak said, as if reading his thoughts, a faint smile on his lips. “The earlier painting was a section cut from this wall.”
He looked at Bu Eunseol with a dry smile. “This is the complete original, painted by our leader.”
“The leader…” Bu Eunseol murmured.
“Yes, completed fifteen years ago,” Woo Hak confirmed.
Bu Eunseol looked up at the wall. It was about six jang wide and two jang tall, roughly the size of a two-story pavilion’s side.
“Hmm.”
The painting was divided into four scenes, each depicting a battle between a human and a beast. Next to the woman and tiger from the first trial was a boy throwing stones at a soaring hawk. Beside that, an old man with a staff faced a pack of wolves. The final scene showed a swordsman confronting a grotesque, blackened beast.
This is…
The more Bu Eunseol studied the painting, the more it felt as if his soul was being drawn into it. Hidden within the four scenes were incomprehensible shapes and lines.
It’s a sword technique.
Bu Eunseol realized that following those shapes and lines would form a single sword move. As he visualized the technique in his mind, cold sweat ran down his back.
An impeccable sword move. The technique contained every variation and speed a longsword could achieve. It was impossible to block or dodge—only direct confrontation could counter it.
“You’ve already found the sword move,” Woo Hak said, nodding calmly as he observed Bu Eunseol. “This is the technique our leader passed to that demon.”
“Just one move?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“Of course not,” Woo Hak said, his face twisting with pain. “From the First Seat to the Tenth, every master passed one technique to him, each containing the essence of their skills.”
In other words, the fiend had been taught eleven sword moves, including the leader’s.
“The technique in this painting is the Seamless Heavenly Garment, passed down by our leader,” Woo Hak said.
Seamless Heavenly Garment. The name, meaning perfection without flaw, suited the technique carved into the stone wall perfectly.
“And the sword technique we’ll teach you is designed to counter such supreme moves, ones that cannot be broken in a short time,” Woo Hak explained.
Bu Eunseol looked puzzled. A sword technique was a sword technique—why specify one that counters supreme moves?
As if sensing his confusion, Woo Hak spoke calmly. “For example, if I had used the Seamless Heavenly Garment on you before showing this painting, you wouldn’t have been able to block it perfectly.”
Bu Eunseol nodded. The move was so intricate that breaking it instantly was nearly impossible.
Woo Hak’s eyes gleamed with a sharp, cold light. “But what if there’s a secret to countering such a move without breaking it?”
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