Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: A Trap in the Night
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Clack, clack.
The clatter of carriage wheels rolling over the arid land broke the deep silence.
It was a rather wide carriage. Such vehicles were comfortable, but slow.
This allowed Bu Eun-seol to read a manual in a leisurely posture.
“Young Master.”
Just then, Heuk-pyo, who was driving the carriage from the coachman's seat, spoke in a low voice.
“It seems we'll have to camp out for the night.”
“I don't mind.”
Hearing Bu Eun-seol's reply, Heuk-pyo slowly brought the carriage to a halt.
Nine days had passed since they departed from Dong-pyo-seo-rang by carriage.
During that time, Bu Eun-seol had been reading the Fist Demon's manual given to him by Do Myeong.
Every time he read the Fist Demon's arts, he couldn't help but be amazed, like a mountain boy entering the emperor's palace.
‘So there was another realm I knew nothing about.’
Until now, he had never learned the arts of the fist and palm.
To grow strong as quickly as possible, he had to master the sword, and he hadn't felt any particular need for other arts.
But after reading the Fist Demon's manual, Bu Eun-seol realized the shallowness and inadequacy of his own martial knowledge.
Thump.
Having finally memorized the entire manual, Bu Eun-seol narrowed his eyes.
If martial arts were the skills or techniques expressed through the body, then martial studies were the discipline that theoretically explained all those techniques.
The fist techniques contained in the Fist Demon's manual, in particular, were supreme arts that had reached the highest level among the various forms of fist, palm, hand, finger, and claw scattered throughout the Murim.
By reading the core principles and tenets of these fist arts, Bu Eun-seol was able to reach another realm.
‘If I were to master these fist arts, I could surely conquer the world with my bare hands. However…’
—This manual is incomplete. No matter how profound the techniques and martial principles it contains, the very best part is missing.
Recalling Do Myeong's words, Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
It was an accurate analysis. Even if Nang-ya-gak possessed this manual, they would not have been able to pass down the fist arts to their disciples.
The reason was simple.
—First Form, First Appearance of the Fist Demon.
—Second Form, Extreme Lightning Confusion.
—Third Form, Selfless Shattering.
—Fourth Form, Heavenly Hand's Empty Wave.
…….
The first four forms, and the last three forms. Of the seven forms that comprised the art, the techniques for the last three were lost.
‘Still… it's incredible.’
The first four forms alone were enough to contend with the masters of the world.
If Nang-ya-gak hadn't been pursuing the highest realm as martial artists and had simply sought to expand their influence, they could have trained outstanding warriors with this manual alone.
‘Hmm.’
While Bu Eun-seol was lost in deep thought,
“Young Master. I've started a fire. Please come out and have a bite to eat.”
Heuk-pyo's clear voice called out.
“Understood.”
After a short reply, Bu Eun-seol took the manual and slowly descended from the carriage.
Toss.
As soon as he stepped outside, he tossed the manual he was holding into the blazing campfire.
Fwoosh.
As the old manual fell into the flames, a crimson blaze erupted, and it soon turned to gray ash.
With this, the Fist Demon's arts, known as Nang-ya-gak's greatest fist techniques, now existed only in Bu Eun-seol's mind.
“Young Master. I have some Noheungju wine we picked up in the last village. Would you care for a drink?”
Heuk-pyo, who had lived as a wanderer since childhood, was not only intelligent but also quick-witted.
He saw Bu Eun-seol burn the manual but spoke as if he had seen nothing.
“It's excellent with some beef jerky.”
“Let's.”
At Bu Eun-seol's words, Heuk-pyo hurriedly retrieved a jug of wine and a bundle of jerky from the carriage.
Gulp, gulp.
As the strong liquor went down his throat, even the cold night wind felt sweet.
Bu Eun-seol sat before the campfire and finished a bundle of jerky and half a jug of wine with Heuk-pyo.
“Ah, camping out like this brings back old memories.”
Heuk-pyo gazed at the distant sky, his face slightly flushed.
“When I first started living as a wanderer, I traveled beyond the passes and camped out often. Xizang, Nanman, the Great Desert... there was truly nowhere I didn't go.”
Then he turned his gaze to Bu Eun-seol.
“Young Master, you have a lot of experience in the Jianghu, so you must have traveled far more than I have, right?”
“I haven't traveled much.”
Bu Eun-seol said, draining the rest of his wine.
“Until I was fifteen, I lived only in Hwangju. It's been three years since I entered the Jianghu. I've only been active for a year.”
“One year… you say?”
Heuk-pyo shook his head in disbelief.
Anyone could see that Bu Eun-seol exuded the air of a seasoned veteran, rich with experience in the Jianghu, and in truth, he was. But to have only one year of experience?
“If what you say is true, Young Master, then you must have endured unspeakably harsh things.”
Bu Eun-seol said nothing.
The moment he entered the Jianghu, he fought a life-or-death battle for survival to become one of the Sip-ma-jeon-in.
Afterward, in the Gusaldai, he took on all sorts of dangerous and dirty missions.
Throughout the entire Murim, there would be few who had lived a harsher life in the Jianghu than Bu Eun-seol.
“That's not it.”
But Bu Eun-seol denied it.
“The Jianghu is inherently harsh. If you don't think so, then you haven't truly lived in it yet.”
“Is that so.”
Heuk-pyo smiled, but he couldn't agree with those words.
He had lived as a wanderer since childhood and had observed countless types of people. But he had never met someone like Bu Eun-seol, whose joys and sorrows were impossible to read.
‘Just what kind of life has he lived?’
Curiosity surged within him, but he barely suppressed it.
To maintain a good relationship with someone, one must keep a proper distance. The same was true for martial artists who roamed the Jianghu, living by the sword.
“I'm going to take a walk nearby for a short while.”
As Heuk-pyo tried to slip away, his expression turned strange.
A crimson glint had appeared in the eyes of the impassive Bu Eun-seol.
“Young Master. Is something wrong…?”
Before he could finish his words,
Flick!
Bu Eun-seol moved like lightning, extending his sheathed sword to deflect a steel needle flying toward Heuk-pyo's temple.
Ting!
The needle, deflected by the scabbard, embedded itself in a nearby tree branch.
Simultaneously, with a sizzling sound, smoke rose from the branch, and its leaves instantly withered.
“Golden Silkworm Poison Dart?”
Heuk-pyo's mouth fell open as he stared at it.
In the past, while secretly gathering information, he had been poisoned by a deadly toxin and had hovered on the brink of death. That poison was the Hell Blood Cult's Golden Silkworm Poison Dart.
“It's the Hell Blood Cult!”
At the same time as Heuk-pyo's shout,
Swoosh!
From the distant bushes, a figure in a crimson robe appeared like a ghost.
It was none other than Yang Myeong, the master of the Hell Blood Cult's Blood Demon Hall.
“Bu Eun-seol.”
Yang Myeong's face, revealed under the moonlight, was wrinkled and looked a little older than before.
This was because the energy of the Poison Qi Demonic Art concentrated in his right hand had dispersed, lowering his level of internal energy.
“Did you think you could escape the lands of Guizhou, you bastard?”
Yang Myeong gritted his teeth.
Unlike before, his hand was covered by a metal gauntlet.
It seemed he had fashioned a prosthetic hand because Bu Eun-seol had shattered its nerves and bones.
“Do I need your permission to leave the lands of Guizhou?”
“Hehehe. Others may, but you, you bastard, cannot leave without this hall master's permission.”
With a sinister laugh, he pointed to the black sword on Bu Eun-seol's back.
“Hand over the Spirit Serpent Divine Sword. If you just give me the sword, I will let you go quietly.”
“This sword's name is Muk-geom.”
“Nonsense!”
As Yang Myeong shouted, Bu Eun-seol let out a smirk.
“Is a master from the Hell Blood Cult resorting to robbery?”
“Stop your nonsense!”
Yang Myeong roared, his eyes spewing a dark, poisonous aura.
“The Spirit Serpent Divine Sword was originally meant to be a gift from our cult. But you suddenly interfered and ruined everything!”
“How strange.”
Bu Eun-seol said with his arms crossed.
“If that's true, why was it offered as the grand prize in the martial arts tournament?”
“That was Ok Ho-bang's idea! That son of a bitch's plan!”
Yang Myeong said, grinding his teeth.
“He said that since Dong-pyo-seo-rang would become a subsidiary of the Hell Blood Cult anyway, we might as well use the Spirit Serpent Divine Sword to promote the tournament and reap the benefits.”
“You have a head on your shoulders, yet you agreed to such a foolish plan?”
Bu Eun-seol spoke at unusual length.
“What if a master from the Demonic Sanctum had appeared at the tournament? Or even a master from one of the Ten Demonic Sects?”
“Hmph, you only see one side of the coin. The Demonic Sanctum, not to mention the Ten Demonic Sects, have countless superior divine weapons. No master would bother showing up at a tournament just to get a single divine sword.”
Yang Myeong said, grinding his teeth.
“With the exception of your dog-like Nang-ya-gak.”
Bu Eun-seol's eyes grew cold.
“It doesn't look like you've come to beg.”
“Hehehe. You've noticed.”
Yang Myeong's eyes spewed a dark, poisonous aura.
“That's right. Even if you get on your knees and offer me the sword, I will never let you live.”
At that, the color drained from Heuk-pyo's face.
“Young Master Bu is one of Nang-ya-gak's Sip-ma-jeon-in. Do you wish for a direct confrontation between Nang-ya-gak and the Hell Blood Cult, both of whom are part of the Ten Demonic Sects?”
Yang Myeong only showed a more malicious smile.
“Hehehe. If I kill you here and melt your bodies with Bone Melting Powder, who will ever know?”
It seemed he had already made up his mind and had come fully prepared to kill Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo.
“You are already surrounded by the masters of my hall. No matter what tricks you have up your sleeve, you will never escape!”
As Yang Myeong shouted, a rustling movement could be felt from within the forest.
As the sound of rustling leaves echoed from all directions, Bu Eun-seol's pupils gleamed in the darkness.
The power of Ya-su-do, the Air-Shattering Mind's Eye, which allowed him to scan his surroundings thoroughly with just the faint vibrations in the air, had activated.
‘Fifty men…’
Having grasped the number and position of the Blood Demon Hall masters surrounding the forest, Bu Eun-seol spoke to Heuk-pyo.
“Have you mastered the movement technique I gave you before?”
“I've only managed to learn about twenty percent of it.”
“That will be enough.”
“Don't worry.”
Heuk-pyo, guessing Bu Eun-seol's intention, spoke with grim determination.
“Even if it costs me my life, I will break through the encirclement and deliver this news to Nang-ya-gak.”
“What are you talking about?”
Bu Eun-seol said impassively.
“Those rabble hiding over there will soon unleash a barrage of hidden weapons. While I deal with them, just do your best to dodge.”
“What?”
Heuk-pyo's mouth fell open.
You mean to face all the masters of the Blood Demon Hall hidden in this forest by yourself?
“Young Master. You can't.”
It was a reckless plan. Bu Eun-seol's martial prowess had already been thoroughly revealed at the tournament.
Moreover, Yang Myeong had experienced his might firsthand. He would never have attacked without being confident of victory.
“Hahahaha!”
At Bu Eun-seol's words, Yang Myeong burst out laughing as if it were the most absurd thing he'd ever heard.
“You madman. You're going to face all the Blood Demons of the Blood Demon Hall by yourself?”
“If I were afraid of cowards who shoot poisoned weapons like rats, I never would have entered the Jianghu.”
“Trusting in that paltry swordsmanship of yours?”
Yang Myeong knew that Bu Eun-seol was hiding an incredible sword art.
But such a sword art was only effective in one-on-one duels. When surrounded by many, and especially against hidden weapons, swordsmanship was not an effective countermeasure.
Chk.
Yang Myeong raised one hand high.
Ssssssk.
At the same time, the trees in the forest seemed to shift chaotically, and a strange pressure began to pour in from all sides.
“Fire!”
In that instant, Bu Eun-seol's vision was plunged into blackness.
It felt like being trapped in a sealed room with not a single ray of light.
Fwoosh!
With a faint whoosh, dozens of steel needles rained down from somewhere.
The Blood Demons had completely blanketed the area, leaving no room to dodge the hidden weapons.
‘An attack designed to counter the abilities of Ya-su-do.’
The masters of Nang-ya-gak all learned Ya-su-do, so they feared neither darkness nor hidden weapons.
Knowing this, Yang Myeong was using a method that obscured vision while overwhelming the space with a massive volley of hidden weapons.
—In the Murim, facing multiple opponents at once is common.
When his master first taught him Ya-su-do, he had said this.
—You don't think every fight is an honorable duel, do you?
He knew well that such a thing never existed in the first place.
That was why, when Bu Eun-seol created Mu-sang-cheon-ryu, one of the techniques he focused on developing was one that could handle multiple opponents.
And a technique that could destroy hidden weapons.
“I'll return them.”
At last, Bu Eun-seol drew the Muk-geom from his back.
Shing.
As the blade was revealed, a vibration could be felt, as if a dragon hidden in the clouds was stirring up lightning and wind.
Without hesitation, Bu Eun-seol unleashed the second form of Mu-sang-cheon-ryu, Return to the Original Master, a technique capable of sending hidden weapons back.
Flash!
With a brilliant flash of light, the Muk-geom painted a black rainbow in the air. And then, all the raining hidden weapons changed direction.
“What is that!”
The Blood Demons hiding in the forest were utterly aghast.
As he executed the sword form, hadn't the majority of the hidden weapons they'd launched made a wide turn and started flying back toward them?