Chapter 122
Chapter 122
The Hall of Martial Secrets (1)
The warriors of the Beast Palace stared in shock at the emerald flames flickering in Se-woon's hands.
"It's the real Blue Flame!"
"That's practically the symbol of the Ape Tribe...!"
"Then this guy really is Pataho's...!"
No heat radiated from the green flames.
This wasn't the scorching power of the Yang Flame Art, which manipulated heat for combat.
Instead, it was closer to the materialization of soul energy, refined through the discipline of External Martial Arts.
To the warriors of the Beast Palace, weapons forged with this power—known to them as the Blue Flame—possessed extraordinary properties.
This was why the Blood Cult, after absorbing the Storm Swordsmen, had spared Pataho—once their slave—and made him their chief blacksmith.
"This power exists only in the blacksmithing techniques passed down through generations of my Ape Tribe."
"All the insights I've gained since being dragged here, I will pass on to you, Great Blacksmith."
"...If you ever escape these demons and visit my homeland, please deliver this power to my people."
And on the eve of his death in Se-woon's past life, Pataho had entrusted this very power to him.
Now, the face beneath the Human-Skin Mask couldn't help but resemble Pataho's—because Se-woon had crafted it based on the features burned into his memory.
As the warriors of the Beast Palace watched Se-woon summon the Blue Flame—a symbol synonymous with the Ape Tribe—their gazes shifted entirely to one of goodwill.
Remaining outwardly calm, Se-woon waited patiently for the king's response while his eyes briefly flickered toward one man.
Meng Yong—the traitor who had sold out the Beast Palace to the Blood Cult.
In his past life, Pataho had met a gruesome end at this man's hands.
"Aaaaah! My son, my son!"
As Se-woon's influence grew within the Blood Cult, elevating the status of blacksmiths, Meng Yong—feeling threatened—had deliberately murdered Pataho's son.
Pataho, who had lived solely for his child, passed all his knowledge to Se-woon before charging at Meng Yong the next day, seeking vengeance.
Of course, against Meng Yong—empowered by the Blood Cult—he stood no chance, meeting a miserable end.
"What? Demon Blacksmith, you got business with me too?"
The image of that bastard standing atop Pataho's corpse, taunting him, resurfaced in Se-woon's mind.
A surge of helpless rage from that moment made his fists clench unconsciously.
'This time, I'll make sure you meet a far more horrific end.'
Just as Se-woon silently reaffirmed the vengeance he had failed to exact in his past life—
Finally, the Beast Heavenly King, Umun Gol, spoke.
"Seems this settles it."
Thud!
The moment the words left his mouth, Umun Gol placed a massive, cauldron-lid-sized hand on Se-woon's shoulder.
"Welcome back to the Beast Palace, Brother Pataewoon."
"......!"
Success.
Se-woon inwardly cheered.
His plan to infiltrate the Beast Palace had just achieved flawless victory.
"Ooooh!"
Boom! Boom!
The warriors of the Beast Palace erupted in thunderous cheers, stomping their feet in enthusiastic welcome.
The brotherhood among the Beast Palace warriors was thicker than blood.
Even Umun Gol's gaze softened as he looked at Se-woon.
"Lately, the Diancang Sect has been accusing us of the atrocities happening in Yunnan."
"......!"
"But you, Pataewoon, saved our brothers in their time of need."
Atrocities in Yunnan?
Se-woon's past-life memories held no recollection of such bloodshed around this time.
But a likely culprit immediately came to mind.
'If the Blood Cult dispatched Qilian Demon here, his crimes are obvious.'
He silently vowed to eliminate that twisted freak—who delighted in wearing the flayed skins of his victims—as swiftly as possible.
"A deed worthy of praise, brother. To celebrate your long-awaited return, I shall honor your merits."
Oh? A reward?
For a brief moment, a glint flashed in Se-woon's eyes before vanishing.
Things were unfolding even more smoothly than anticipated.
Had Umun Gol not offered, Se-woon would have demanded it himself.
And what he wanted was already decided.
As all eyes turned to him in anticipation—
"I wish to participate in the Sky Festival."
"......!"
The moment the words Sky Festival left Se-woon's lips, stunned expressions spread across the crowd.
Murmurs broke out as the warriors began debating among themselves.
"He must've heard about the Sky Festival from his father."
"Hmm, naturally, he'd want to prove himself a true warrior of the Beast Palace through the Rite of Adulthood."
"By tradition, it's too late for him, but an exception could be made, no?"
The Sky Festival was the grandest triennial event of the Beast Palace—a ceremony where its future was decided.
Among its many rituals, the Rite of Adulthood was where young warriors around Pataewoon's age proved their maturity.
"Hmm, I understand your desire for the Rite of Adulthood, but as a reward, it's too..."
"No."
Se-woon shook his head.
"I don't seek the Rite of Adulthood."
"......!"
"I wish to participate in the true event held after it."
"The Heavenly Battle Ceremony."
Whoosh.
As if struck mute, the surrounding noise vanished instantly.
Such was the weight those words carried in the Beast Palace.
"......You wish to join the Heavenly Battle Ceremony?"
"Yes."
"Do you understand what that means?"
"I do."
"Those are not words to speak lightly!!"
ROAR!
Umun Gol's lion-like bellow shook the air at Se-woon's unwavering tone.
"The Heavenly Battle Ceremony is nothing like the Rite of Adulthood! It's a duel where warriors stake their lives to inherit the throne of the Beast Palace!"
The Heavenly Battle Ceremony decided Umun Gol's successor—the next ruler of the Beast Palace.
Warriors from each tribe fought to the death, and those unprepared often met gruesome ends.
"Moreover, only the martial arts of the Beast Palace are permitted. None of your current techniques may be used."
"I'm aware."
"And you still insist, with only two days left?"
"I learn quickly. Two days are enough."
"Tch."
As Umun Gol exhaled in exasperation at Se-woon's stubbornness—
"This cannot be allowed!"
A frantic voice cut through the assembly.
It was Pata Mun, chieftain of the Ape Tribe and Pataho's father.
The old warrior desperately tried to stop his reckless grandson.
"Great King! Letting an untested warrior join the Heavenly Battle Ceremony is madness! The boy doesn't understand the stakes! Please, deny his request!"
"Hmph. So the Ape Chieftain coddles his grandson already?"
"......!"
The one who sneered was none other than Meng Yong, chieftain of the Wolf Tribe.
A vicious smirk played on his lips.
"Hmph, if he's willing, why stop him? I support his participation."
"Wolf Chieftain! How can you say that?!"
Meng Yong ignored Pata Mun's outrage, picking at his ear dismissively.
'Hah! This is the perfect chance to crush that thorn in my side—the Ape Tribe.'
From his perspective, if this fool wanted to throw his life away, why stop him?
As arguments erupted between the two factions—
"Silence."
Umun Gol's command instantly stilled the hall.
His piercing gaze locked onto Se-woon.
"Choosing the harder path is the mark of a true warrior."
Pata Mun shut his eyes tightly at those words.
He had tried to stop it—but failed.
"Warrior Pataewoon, your request is granted."
'Perfect!'
Se-woon inwardly rejoiced.
To an outsider, his reaction would be incomprehensible.
Stripped of all his martial arts, thrown into a life-or-death battlefield—what was there to celebrate?
Yet Se-woon's joy stemmed from precisely that.
'This means I can slaughter every Blood Cult spy hiding in the Beast Palace—no justification needed!'
That's right.
In the Heavenly Battle Ceremony, Se-woon planned to annihilate every last demon he faced—including that Wolf Chieftain, Meng Yong.
In his past life, the Blood Cult had exploited this very event to systematically eliminate Umun Gol's loyalists.
But now, their scheme would crumble beneath his hands.
And more—
'I'll defeat even Umun Gol by the end and claim the throne of the Beast Palace.'
Bringing the Beast Palace under his control.
That was the first step toward the goal he had declared to the Demon Sovereign—becoming the master of the unorthodox factions.
"In two days, Pataewoon shall fight as the first warrior of the Heavenly Battle Ceremony!"
"OOOOH!"
BOOM! BOOM!
The deafening roars and stomps of the Beast Palace warriors shook the very foundations of the hall.
'Now it begins.'
A faint, knowing smile curled on Se-woon's lips.
"P-Please f-follow me. If y-you lose me, it'll b-be trouble."
Shortly after, Se-woon followed a young boy through labyrinthine corridors shrouded in concealment formations.
The guide leading him was a boy barely reaching Se-woon's chest—
"The Wild Physicians' leader will guide you."
—except he wasn't a boy at all.
Though small in stature, he was nearly an adult.
This was Na Taemun, leader of the Wild Physicians—the faction responsible for the Beast Palace's medical needs.
Born with a stutter and a timid demeanor, he seemed utterly unlike a warrior of the Beast Palace.
But that was precisely why he led the Wild Physicians.
The warriors viewed seeking treatment for injuries as unmanly, so the faction was scorned even by its own members.
"W-We're h-here. I-I'll bring f-food at this t-time tomorrow."
"Thank you, Leader Na. I'll train hard thanks to your kindness."
"N-No need f-for thanks... T-Then, goodbye."
Se-woon, however, treated him with utmost respect—so much so that it flustered the man.
'Good. I met him faster than expected.'
Because Se-woon knew his secret.
Hmm...
Something hidden in Se-woon's robes faintly vibrated at the sight of Na Taemun before settling again.
Alone now, Se-woon faced the door before him.
The Hall of Martial Secrets.
That was what the inscription read.
For some reason, his eyes gleamed like stars in the night sky.
'Finally, I'm here.'
This place—the Hall of Martial Secrets—was one of the reasons he had chosen to join the Heavenly Battle Festival.
Within its walls lay the entire history of the Beast Palace's martial arts.
From the genuine techniques of past rulers to the External Arts passed down through the five tribes—every combat style ever developed here was preserved.
All warriors must be given equal opportunity.
Under this creed, those participating in the Heavenly Battle Festival were granted three years to train here equally before competing.
This system of fairness was the hidden strength that kept the Southern Barbarian Beast Palace undefeated among the Four Great Savage Palaces.
...However.
Se-woon cared nothing for any of that.
Even if he combined every External Art here, they wouldn't compare to a single insight from the Divine Unsealed Sword.
His reason for coming was singular.
A secret unknown even to Umun Gol or the Blood Cult.
'Now, let's feast.'
A treasure said to grant its chosen wielder the right to rule the Beast Palace.
The lost Divine Artifact of the Beast Palace—hidden right here.
Creak...
The moment Se-woon pushed open the door and stepped inside—