Chapter 1013
Swish!Thwipthwipthwipthwipthwip!
Suddenly, a relentless barrage of sharp hidden weapons came pouring toward Myo Cheon-u.
Another assassin, who had been lying in wait, had activated a hidden weapon device installed in the forest the moment he revealed himself.
Thudthudthud!
Standing in the middle of the woods, Myo Cheon-u dodged the attacks raining down like a storm—until he finally had to start deflecting them one by one with the longsword he was holding.
"Tch."
Before long, Myo Cheon-u let out a short grunt.
The hidden weapons showed no sign of letting up, and the force behind each one was tremendous. If things continued like this, he'd soon be riddled with holes like a porcupine.
Clang!
Then, the blade of the sword he'd been using to block the onslaught shattered.
Thwack-thwack-thwack!
In the end, Myo Cheon-u was struck by the swarm of hidden weapons and collapsed on the spot.
"Guh—"
He quickly scrambled back up, but his body was already battered beyond recognition.
Zzzing.
Before he knew it, a grayish shadow appeared before him.
It was a masked man clad in a glistening assassin's outfit. Likely the gatekeeper guarding this forest.
"Where did this stray mutt crawl out from, daring to barge into our sect uninvited?"
He stared intently at Myo Cheon-u's bloodied, panting face—but thanks to the human skin mask, his true features remained unreadable.
"You're wearing a mask."
The masked man immediately recognized the disguise and nodded.
"Why have you infiltrated our sect?"
"Since when do hired killers ask so many questions?"
Myo Cheon-u panted as he struggled to raise his broken sword again.
"Enough talk. Come at me."
"With that sword?"
The blade had snapped clean in two, and his right arm hung limp—likely dislocated at the shoulder.
Not that he had the luxury of popping it back into place.
If he did, the masked man would strike immediately.
"Your fighting spirit is impressive."
The masked man sneered, his eyes brimming with mockery.
"I'll peel you apart until you tell me why you're here."
"Don't make me laugh."
Myo Cheon-u forced his dangling arm to swing weakly as he lunged forward.
"Hmph."
Just as the masked man snorted and reached out—
BOOM!
Suddenly, a blinding silver light flooded his vision, as if the entire world had been dyed in radiance.
Pop!
With the sound of tearing flesh, the masked man collapsed in a straight line.
His body was completely immobilized—likely every bone in his body had been shattered.
"What... is this?"
The masked man gasped, unable to even lift his head. Myo Cheon-u grinned.
"Truth is, my specialty is palm techniques."
A lie could draw out an enemy's presence once.
But such a trick wouldn't work a second time.
That's why, from the moment he entered this place, Myo Cheon-u had deliberately wielded the swords of dead assassins—all to create the perfect moment for a decisive strike.
And by obsessively clinging to the sword, swinging it again and again, the assassins naturally assumed he was a master swordsman.
It was a trap exploiting human psychology.
No matter how sharp their wits, they couldn't help but misjudge his true skill.
Crrrrk.
As the masked man breathed his last, the forest entrance—previously sealed by tangled branches—swung open once more.
In the distance, Bu Eun-seol and the others came into view.
Pop.
Myo Cheon-u shoved his dislocated shoulder back into place with a grunt, then strode toward the open entrance with a smile.
"All done."
Splurt!
Just then, a sudden burst of blood erupted from Myo Cheon-u's back.
Zzzing.
At the same moment, a faint shadow flickered beside him—
Thud.
A masked man with a gaping hole in his throat collapsed to the ground.
Hssss.
White smoke curled from Bu Eun-seol's finger as he approached.
He had unleashed a rapid Finger Wind, concentrated with the power of the Inner Energy Bullet Art.
"The enemy always strikes when your guard is down."
Bu Eun-seol spoke with solemn gravity.
As it turned out, three masked men had been lying in ambush, defending the forest.
When the second assassin died,
they had activated a mechanism to open the gate, making it seem as though everything was over.
Anyone would relax, believing the situation resolved.
And in that exact moment—they would strike with an unavoidable, fatal blow.
But the moment the entrance opened,
Bu Eun-seol instantly detected the presence of the hidden assassin—
and in a single motion, fired an Inner Energy Bullet straight through the killer's throat.
"You're not the only one who can use deception."
Bu Eun-seol met Myo Cheon-u's gaze, his voice calm.
"Always remember—among your enemies, there may be those who can perfectly suppress their vital signs, who can employ tricks of their own."
Myo Cheon-u nodded.
Thanks to this trial, he had grown adept at freely using deception and stratagems against his foes.
But there was one misconception he had.
That he wasn't the only one skilled in deception.
That the enemy could naturally do the same—no, could even employ far more cunning tricks.
Bu Eun-seol walked past Myo Cheon-u, who stood frozen in place, without so much as a glance.
Seo Jin-ha lightly patted Myo Cheon-u's shoulder as he passed by.
"Still, you did well."
Then, Do Cheon-rin snorted as he strode past him.
"Your finish was sloppy."
And with that, he spat out a single remark.
"Just like always on Hell Island."
In an instant, Myo Cheon-u's face twisted.
"What did you say?"
First Yu Un-ryong, and now this?
From the very start, he'd been acting all high and mighty, dishing out criticism like it was nothing?
"You done talking?!"
Myo Cheon-u rolled up his sleeves and lunged, but Do Cheon-rin didn't even spare him a glance, letting out only a cold sigh.
"Hold back, hold back."
As Yu Un-ryong pulled him away, Myo Cheon-u gritted his teeth so hard his gums showed.
Unfazed, Do Cheon-rin continued walking calmly, the Phantom Demon Sword cradled in his arms.
'Just you wait, Do Cheon-rin.'
Gnashing his teeth, Myo Cheon-u stormed out of the forest.
Once they passed through the trees, the scenery of what appeared to be the White Sword Sect's main stronghold finally came into view.
From above,
the buildings sprawled like a massive web of blood,
while sheer cliffs and vast canyons naturally formed walls encircling the sect.
At its center stood a towering crimson pavilion, as if piercing the heavens.
It was none other than the White Sword Pavilion—the residence of the Sect Leader.
"So that's the place."
Seo Jin-ha clenched his fist.
The treacherous Great Thief who had used his own father as bait to break through the martial world's encirclement, then vanished without a trace after taking the Essence-Draining Sword—
Yeop Jeokhwa was hiding there.
Rustle.
But then, from between the web-like buildings, enormous shadows began emerging one by one.
Their presence radiated an overwhelming aura, incomparable to any they had faced before.
Clad in blood-red robes that seemed to drip with fresh blood and armed with Blood Swords,
they were none other than the swordsmen of the White Sword Sect.
Thud.
At the same time, all possible escape routes were sealed shut.
Every gate of the White Sword Sect was designed this way—to ensure no enemy could ever break free once inside.
"This time, I'll handle it."
Do Cheon-rin stepped forward confidently.
Thanks to his recent training, he had stabilized his entry into the Extreme Heaven Realm, growing stronger both physically and mentally.
And now, he intended to prove it.
"No."
Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
"They aren't ordinary martial artists—they've been granted some bizarre Great Art."
As if to prove his words, the eyes of the approaching swordsmen gradually turned white.
These were likely the core forces of the White Sword Sect—swordsmen who had honed a unique Great Art and sword technique.
"Doesn't matter what they are."
Do Cheon-rin replied indifferently, then unsheathed the Phantom Demon Sword with a sharp shing.
He stood firm before the advancing swordsmen, his stance unwavering.
Whoosh.
Just by assuming his stance, a mysterious energy began radiating outward.
Bloodflame Blade Extremity Stance.
A technique that could repel enemy attacks and counter instantly using only the energy flowing through the blade—
Do Cheon-rin's self-created, supreme defensive stance of the martial world had been unleashed.
"Come at me."
Do Cheon-rin smirked coldly at the charging swordsmen.
"Unless you've reached the Martial Extreme Realm and can unleash Limitless Power, my Blade Extremity Stance will—"
His expression hardened mid-sentence.
The mere dozens of swordsmen had, in the blink of an eye, multiplied into hundreds.
Rumble.
They rushed at Do Cheon-rin relentlessly, unleashing savage sword techniques against his Bloodflame Blade Extremity Stance.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
As they swarmed like locusts, attacking all at once, even his stance began to falter.
Judging by the sheer force of their techniques, they had at least surpassed the Peak Realm—and their internal energy seemed to exceed even three sixty-year cycles.
'This much...?'
The reason the White Sword Sect had remained hidden in the martial world, surviving as a mercenary organization,
was because they were an extremely small faction.
Yet they possessed such a terrifying force?
"Kgh."
A short groan escaped Do Cheon-rin's lips.
These swordsmen weren't just swinging their blades wildly—they were executing an incredibly precise Combined Attack Art.
"Looks like the Rogue Vanguard leader's about to change."
Yu Un-ryong remarked at that moment.
"Jumping into enemy lines alone without knowing his limits—pathetic."
Myo Cheon-u quickly chimed in.
"What's with that turtle-like stance?"
He raised his voice, amplifying it with internal energy.
"Your Blade Extremity Stance is a joke—you're better off getting sliced clean than dying like this."
Do Cheon-rin couldn't even muster a retort to their mockery.
A bizarre sensation flooded his mind, followed by waves of nausea, as if he had swallowed poison.
'So it was a formation that conjures a Mindscape.'
Now that he saw it clearly, the hundreds of swordsmen revealed from the White Sword Sect weren't actually that numerous in reality.
Just like the masters of the Death Shadow War Unit, they had been trained to unfold a Mindscape.
'Well, if a sect truly possessed hundreds of swordsmen at the Transcendence Realm, they wouldn't be holed up in some secluded valley.'
Having grasped the situation, Do Cheon-rin released the Blade Extremity Stance and—
—swung his Phantom Demon Sword, launching a direct assault.
Though the Bloodflame Blade Extremity Stance could block and counter any physical attack, it was powerless against assaults on the Spirit and Mind.
Shwak! Pshht!
The swordsmen maintained their formation, pressing forward, but Do Cheon-rin refused to retreat, bravely engaging them.
Yet, they moved in perfect synchronization, executing flawless Combined Attack Arts, their sword techniques radiating overwhelming power and momentum.
As time passed, wounds began to cover Do Cheon-rin's body.
'Damn it.'
He inwardly let out a frustrated sigh.
What if he suffered a humiliating defeat here?
Myo Cheon-u and Yu Un-ryong would mock him for this until the day they died.
'Over my dead body.'
Whoosh.
A scorching heat surged through Do Cheon-rin's body.
He'd rather bite down on his blade than collapse in a place like this.
'Hmm.'
From afar, Bu Eun-seol let out a quiet sigh.
No matter how high Do Cheon-rin's martial prowess was—
—facing such a large number of elite swordsmen alone while trapped in a Mindscape was impossible.
"Let's help him."
Bu Eun-seol turned his head and spoke calmly.
"He might die if this continues."
At that, Yu Un-ryong shook his head.
"No, he can handle it. Even if his weapon breaks, he'll still fight with that sharp tongue of his."
Myo Cheon-u picked up the thread.
"Right. Even if Do Cheon-rin dies, he'll come back as a ghost and cut them down. His pride is just that filthy strong."
Seeing the two only sneering with no intention of helping, Seo Jin-ha had no choice but to step forward.
"Haaap!"
Seo Jin-ha spread his arms, unleashing the Hell Blood Citadel's Poison Art.
In a one-against-many situation, no technique was as effective as poison.
Twitch.
Even if the White Sword Sect's swordsmen had poison resistance—
—the Hell Blood Citadel's Poison Art was potent enough to instantly affect their nervous system and overwhelm even their immunity.
Exposed to such a high concentration of toxicity, they had no choice but to gradually collapse.
"Seo Jin-ha. That tactless bastard—?"
Just as Myo Cheon-u was scowling and about to reprimand him—
Rumble—!
Another hundred swordsmen suddenly poured out from within.
Clad in armor and wielding poison-coated swords, they didn't form a Mindscape formation—
—instead, they unleashed an unorthodox Sword Studies technique, attacking Do Cheon-rin and Seo Jin-ha.
"Are you just going to keep watching?"
At Bu Eun-seol's words as he observed the struggling pair—
"Damn it all..."
Myo Cheon-u and Yu Un-ryong gritted their teeth in frustration before shouting—
"We're going in!"
They joined the fray, assaulting the White Sword Sect's warriors.
With the four of them fighting together—
—their combined power was enough to split heaven and earth, distorting space itself.
Finally, they began to overpower the White Sword Sect's swordsmen with ease.
"No need to waste energy here."
Bu Eun-seol approached Seo Jin-ha and spoke.
"Let's move forward."
"But—"
Seo Jin-ha furrowed his brow.
It was unclear what Great Art the White Sword Sect's swordsmen had undergone, but ordinary attacks could not bring them down.
Moreover, just as they were about to finish them off, more troops endlessly poured out from within.
"It's fine."
Bu Eun-seol spoke dismissively.
"They can handle it."
"Hmm."
Seo Jin-ha watched with concern as Do Cheon-rin and the others tangled with the enemies.
At first, they were disorganized—
—even accidentally firing sword energy or palm strikes at each other's faces, but now they fought back-to-back in a desperate struggle.
"Alright."
Unconsciously, a faint smile touched Seo Jin-ha's lips as he nodded.
"Understood."
While they fought, Bu Eun-seol and Seo Jin-ha headed toward the White Sword Pavilion, where Yeop Jeokhwa resided.
Rumble—!
As they entered the pavilion, even more troops surged out—far more than those outside.
What's more, these warriors seemed to have been trained in even greater Great Arts, their sword techniques and physical resilience incomparable to the external swordsmen.
Their numbers reached the hundreds. And each one, enhanced by bizarre Great Arts, possessed strength at the Transcendence Realm.
This was a force equivalent to merging several sects together.
Under normal circumstances, breaking through would be impossible—but to Bu Eun-seol, they posed no threat.
"I'll help too—"
Just as Seo Jin-ha eagerly drew the sword at his waist—
Flash—!
A dazzling light erupted, bleaching the world white.
Simultaneously, the hundred swordsmen positioned ahead—and even Seo Jin-ha's hair as he lunged forward—
—were engulfed.
In an instant, they melted away as if they had never existed.
Tssss—
Seo Jin-ha's eyes widened as he stared at his own hair, now emitting wisps of white smoke.
Had he really been about to charge in recklessly, only to end up dead without even a bone fragment left to bury—let alone achieving his revenge?
"...At least give me a warning before you unleash something like that."
"My apologies."
Bu Eun-seol sheathed his scorched Ink Soul Sword with indifference.
Harmonization was, in essence, a force akin to Limitless Power.
Unless one was a Martial Extreme Realm master or had actually unfolded a Mindscape, there was no blocking it with ordinary martial arts.
'Terrifying.'
Only now did Seo Jin-ha understand why Bu Eun-seol had always refrained from demonstrating his skills in front of them, even during joint training.
'Because it would crush our motivation.'
Myo Cheon-u, Yu Un-ryong, Do Cheon-rin—they had all reached the Extreme Heaven Realm and were pushing their limits for greater heights.
But if they saw Bu Eun-seol's true martial prowess? Their drive would have shattered in an instant.
Rumble—
Even after that, waves of formidable martial artists and soldiers continued to attack, yet none posed the slightest threat.
To put it bluntly—
They fell like wheat before a scythe with every swing of Bu Eun-seol's sword.
As they pressed forward toward the heart of the White Sword Sect, Seo Jin-ha found himself in an odd mood.
'Feels like we're just some martial artists going to rough up a few back-alley thugs.'
Originally, this was supposed to be a desperate, life-or-death march to confront Yeop Jeokhwa.
But with Bu Eun-seol leading the way—
All sense of gravity vanished, replaced by the absurd feeling of bullying a child.
Flash! BOOM! CRACK!
Every time Bu Eun-seol unleashed his sword energy, bursts of light and thunderous explosions followed.
He wasn't even exerting himself—just executing his usual techniques.
But because he had spent years clashing with superlative martial experts who stood at the pinnacle of the martial world—
None among the White Sword Sect could properly defend against even his most basic sword strokes.
And those who were grazed by his slashes didn't just get cut—they were obliterated.
"T-Take it easy..."
Seo Jin-ha sighed as he surveyed the corpses strewn across the ground.
At this point, he almost pitied the martial artists of the White Sword Sect.
"What did these low-ranking disciples even do to deserve being slaughtered like this?"
"Even if they survived, they'd just be useless mercenaries taking dirty jobs."
Bu Eun-seol's reply was cold and decisive.
"The world is better off without them."
Before long, they stood before the entrance of the Grand Hall, where Yeop Jeokhwa resided.
"We're here."
Bu Eun-seol gave Seo Jin-ha a nod.
"Go in."
What remained now was Seo Jin-ha's long-awaited vengeance.
This moment belonged entirely to him—no one had the right to interfere.
"Yeah."
Seo Jin-ha pushed open the massive doors of the Grand Hall.
Creeeak—
Beyond them lay a vast, dimly lit chamber, where a figure clad in crimson robes sat upon a throne.
A man with a goat-like beard and eyes brimming with cruelty.
The White Sword Sect Leader, Yeop Jeokhwa.
"...I don't understand."
Yeop Jeokhwa frowned as he studied the lone figure who had entered.
"What the hell are you?"
Riiip—
Seo Jin-ha tore off his human skin mask, revealing his true face.
Yeop Jeokhwa's frown deepened as he scrutinized him for a long moment.
"You are—"
After becoming the Ten Demonic Heir, Seo Jin-ha had joined the Demon Hall's Special-Class Elite Unit and spent years as Bu Eun-seol's shadow.
His face was unknown in the martial world.
"...Who?"
In the end, Yeop Jeokhwa failed to recognize him.
"Yeop Jeokhwa."
A white glint flashed in Seo Jin-ha's pupils.
"Do you remember what happened in Dongrim Village ten years ago?"
"Dongrim Village?"
Yeop Jeokhwa's expression twisted strangely.
After a long pause, he studied Seo Jin-ha's eyes intently.
"...Don't tell me. You're the son of that second-rate swordsman who ran a martial hall in Jeong-ju?"
Sparks flared in Seo Jin-ha's gaze.
"You don't even remember the name of the man who saved your life?"
"You remember?"
Yeop Jeokhwa smirked instead.
"The names of every second-rate or third-rate martial artist you've killed or brushed past?"
"What?"
"You've grown strong enough now—surely you understand."
Yeop Jeokhwa laughed shamelessly.
"No one in the martial world remembers the names of second-rate nobodies who couldn't make their mark."
Seo Jin-ha burst into laughter.
"Yeah. That's exactly why you've ended up like this."
"Quite the opposite."
Yeop Jeokhwa sighed.
"I knew he had a son. But what could the child of a second-rate swordsman possibly do?"
He shook his head.
"You've lived all these years burning for revenge over your father's death, but—"
"......"
"To me, it was just a trivial incident from over a decade ago. One I barely even recall."
A cruel but undeniable truth.
No one remembered the death of a second-rate swordsman.
Yeop Jeokhwa had long been a dual entity—the leader of the White Sword Sect, a mercenary faction, while concealing his formidable martial prowess.
Moreover, he had grown even more formidable after seizing the Essence-Draining Sword.
With the support of the Servants of the True Demon—or perhaps the Abyssal Forces—he had expanded his sect to this extent.
Thus, while Yeop Jeokhwa had been soaring to prominence...
Had it been the names of powerful masters who had fallen beneath his blade, he might have remembered.
But the death of a second-rate swordsman like Seo Mu-woong—beaten to death by martial artists attempting to steal the Essence-Draining Sword over a decade ago—
Was something he had never once spared a thought for in all his life.
Shring.
Seo Jin-ha silently drew his sword.
Such was the tragedy of the Martial World.
Countless nameless warriors died every day.
Yet there was no one left to remember them.
Those who had never made a name for themselves—
Had no place to linger in people's memories.
"Whether you remember my father or not makes no difference."
Seo Jin-ha spoke calmly.
"Prepare to stretch out your neck."
"So be it."
Shring.
Yeop Jeokhwa also drew his sword.
It was a treasure of the Martial World he had obtained over a decade ago—the very Essence-Draining Sword his father had so desperately desired.
The sinister glint of the Essence-Draining Sword could cleave through anything,
Detect killing intent, and even contained the legendary Concealed Resentment Sword Manual capable of dominating the Martial World.
But in Seo Jin-ha's eyes—
It was nothing more than a cursed lump of metal, weighed down by the vengeful spirits of fallen warriors.
"Yeop Jeokhwa. Your mistake wasn't killing my father."
Seo Jin-ha muttered lowly, staring at the Essence-Draining Sword in Yeop Jeokhwa's grip.
"In your eyes, he was just another nameless martial artist passing through the Martial World..."
A bloody light, darker than crimson, rose in his pupils as he tightened his grip on the sword.
"But you failed to realize—to someone else, he was the entire world!"
Their battle was fierce.
Yeop Jeokhwa had mastered the Concealed Resentment Sword Manual of the Essence-Draining Sword, passed down through generations, using it to become a supreme master dominating the world.
In contrast, Seo Jin-ha had trained in newly developed martial arts—brilliant evolutions of the Martial World's techniques.
The sword studies of the past, inherited through generations.
The newly created martial arts, refined to match the dazzling progress of the Martial World.
Their clash dragged on, with neither gaining the upper hand.
The traditional sword studies that upheld the Martial World possessed an unshakable dignity.
The newly devised sword studies, keeping pace with the times, brimmed with ingenuity and brilliance.
In the end, the difference came down to will.
One fought to kill his enemy, even at the cost of his own life.
The other fought to defeat the son of some insignificant swordsman he couldn't even remember.
Clang!
As their close-quarters exchange intensified—
Whish-whish-whish!
Seo Jin-ha unleashed the hidden swords embedded in his acupoints.
Rather than using the Broken Sword Flying Shock Technique, he hurled them like concealed weapons, creating a momentary opening.
The instant Yeop Jeokhwa moved to evade—
Seo Jin-ha unleashed the most orthodox sword strike he had honed all this time.
Realizing he couldn't dodge, Yeop Jeokhwa immediately countered with the Essence-Draining Sword.
And the difference between them... was a mere inch.
Drip... drip...
Blood trickled from both their bodies.
Yeop Jeokhwa's Essence-Draining Sword had missed Seo Jin-ha's heart by an inch.
Seo Jin-ha's iron sword had pierced straight through the center of Yeop Jeokhwa's heart.
And the technique that had pierced his heart—
Was the first stance of the Drunken Cloud Sword Art, a second-rate sword style passed down through the Martial World:
White Rainbow Pierces the Sun.
"So it ends like this after all."
Yeop Jeokhwa shook his head as he stared at the sword embedded in his chest.
"Because I failed to properly uproot the source, it grew into a blazing fire that consumed me."
Thud.
Finally, Yeop Jeokhwa collapsed, his face slamming into the ground.
But Seo Jin-ha's gaze remained fixed on the empty air.
His entire life flashed before his eyes.
His mother had passed away giving birth to him, and he had been raised alone by his widowed father.
Though his father had been a nameless, second-rate swordsman, he had poured all his love into raising him—
And thanks to that, Seo Jin-ha had been able to nurture his martial talent.
"How many people can say they have no regrets in life?"
Clang.
Seo Jin-ha lowered the iron sword in his hand to the ground.
His vengeance was complete.
This would be the last time he drew his sword for himself.
From now on, he would wield his blade only for Bu Eun-seol's revenge.
Watching Seo Jin-ha enter the White Sword Pavilion, Bu Eun-seol suddenly narrowed his eyes.
A strange energy had just brushed past the tips of his hair.
It felt as though a demon lurking in the darkness was watching him.
'Just what are they hiding here?'
The more he thought about it, the stranger it seemed.
The White Sword Sect wasn't even a well-known faction in the Martial World, nor did it possess vast influence.
So why had the Abyssal Forces extended their reach to such a place?
Why had they invested enormous resources and manpower into turning a mere mercenary sword sect—
Into an impregnable fortress that even masters from other factions dared not approach?
'Geographical advantage.'
The White Sword Sect had only one notable strength—
Its naturally fortified terrain, nestled deep within a secluded valley, making it nearly inaccessible.
Perfect for setting up battle formations and traps.
In fact, the sect had constructed bizarre gates and traps that even an army of a hundred thousand couldn't breach.
'Then...'
A strange thought flashed through Bu Eun-seol's mind.
Those behind the White Sword Sect ultimately—
Wanted an impenetrable stronghold where no outsider could enter.
'To hide something here.'
Closing his eyes, Bu Eun-seol began scouring every corner of the White Sword Sect in his mind.