Chapter 1026
Bu Eun-seol immediately headed for the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
The business with the Extinction Palace had merely been an order from the Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
In truth, his real target had always been the judgment of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
To be precise, it was the Hidden Mastermind who sought to ruin the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
'Wi Ji-hye-sang.'
Bu Eun-seol could say with certainty:
The one pulling the strings of the Fire Rain Sword Sect was not Wi Ji-mua, but Wi Ji-hye-sang.
And the one who had wielded the Fake Body before was undoubtedly connected to him.
—You must not go alone!
All the martial artists in the Death Shadow War Unit were stunned when Bu Eun-seol announced he would go to the Fire Rain Sword Sect by himself, desperately trying to dissuade him.
—It's fine. This is something that can only be settled if I go alone.
The Fire Rain Sword Sect was, without a doubt, the foremost sect of the demonic path—so formidable that even mobilizing all of the Demon Hall's forces wouldn't guarantee victory.
Whether the Death Shadow War Unit or the Demon Hall made a move, no amount of manpower could bring it down.
—Then we'll go with you!
As the martial artists of the Death Shadow War Unit all stepped forward, Yu Un-ryong stopped them.
—The Lord has already considered everything. Do not interfere.
Only he had an inkling of Bu Eun-seol's plan.
—The Lord is not going to destroy the foremost sect of the demonic path. He is going to strike down the one who has tainted the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
The captains and martial artists lowered their heads, faces filled with discontent.
The hot-tempered Won Se-mun and Jo Nam-cheon tried to rush after Bu Eun-seol toward the Fire Rain Sword Sect, but the stubborn resistance of their unit members left them helpless as they were dragged back.
—He'll manage somehow.
Truthfully, the martial artists of the Death Shadow War Unit had long realized it.
Bu Eun-seol's wisdom grew deeper by the day—
Already surpassing anything they could comprehend.
In the end, they shook their heads as if resigning themselves and reluctantly turned their steps back toward the Demon Hall.
Upon arriving at the Fire Rain Sword Sect, Bu Eun-seol halted and gazed at the distant sky.
'They say a bad bond first comes as a good one.'
The Fire Rain Sword Sect.
The place that had first taught him swordsmanship.
The place that had shown him how to interpret and master the principles of Advanced Martial Arts.
The place where his mentor—who had guided him along the path of the sword and imparted the secret techniques he had spent a lifetime mastering—resided.
The place where his master had passed down his supreme techniques and convictions—
Even until his final breath...
And yet now, he stood at the precipice of having to tear down that very sect with his own hands.
'It was inevitable.'
In the past, he hadn't believed in fate.
But now, the word slipped from his lips as naturally as breath.
Because otherwise... he could never make sense of this twisted reality, this absurd world.
'I can only hope my assumption is correct.'
If his prediction was right—
He wouldn't have to destroy the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
Only the vile one who had corrupted it.
Then, everything would end.
Sssk—
In the sky, where a cold northern wind blew, pure white snowflakes began to fall one by one.
Like a child, Bu Eun-seol unconsciously reached out and caught one in his palm.
But the moment it touched his hand, the snowflake melted away without a trace.
Like an elusive dream, like an ambition dissolving into foam.
Monghwanpoyoung—a fleeting illusion, a bubble in a dream.
After all, our lives are but dreams.
Like illusions, they vanish like foam, casting long shadows we never realize.
And now, the wicked one who had manipulated the Fire Rain Sword Sect—
Would disappear just like this snowflake.
Crunch, crunch.
Bu Eun-seol walked toward the massive gate that dominated his vision.
Between two towering stone pillars that seemed to compete with the heavens, the ancient crimson wooden doors—reinforced with heavy black iron—stood firmly shut.
Their sheer size alone was enough to intimidate any who beheld them.
Carved deeply into the surface of the doors were eerie, twisted patterns—whether the marks of time or deliberately crafted, they exuded an ominous aura.
It was strange.
Normally, a line of people would stretch like a serpent before these gates.
But now, not even an ant could be seen.
Not even the guards who should have been stationed here.
Whoosh—
Bu Eun-seol stood before the main gate.
Above it, at the highest point, hung a massive plaque declaring its majesty.
On a black, smooth ebony board, characters writhed as if alive—
Five letters, gilded in gold:
"Foremost Sect of the Demonic Path."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed as he gazed at the towering gate and the plaque that overlooked the world.
'Since when has it been the foremost sect of the demonic path?'
Long before Jeok Hwa-un founded the Fire Rain Sword Sect seven hundred years ago, this place had been the foremost sect of the demonic path.
Only the masters and names had changed over generations.
The Foremost Sect of the Demonic Path had endured, intertwined with the history of the martial world.
Creak.
As he approached the gate, the massive doors swung open on their own.
When Bu Eun-seol stepped inside, an astonishing sight unfolded before him.
It was completely empty.
There were no disciples who should have filled the vast interior of the Fire Rain Sword Sect, nor any bustling servants or attendants.
The interior of this enormous sect—
Had transformed into something resembling a hollow ghost town.
Thud. Thud.
Yet he showed little surprise, walking forward with steady steps while keeping his gaze fixed ahead.
After walking for some time, a pavilion with a small pond came into view.
And there, seated within it, was a tall, imposing middle-aged man tilting a wine cup.
None other than the foremost sword of the demonic path, one of the Three Demons renowned for wielding the most profound martial arts in the world—
The Profound Demon, Wi Ji-mua.
"Sect Leader."
Bu Eun-seol bowed respectfully, but Wi Ji-mua acted as though he hadn't heard, indifferently picking up a wine bottle instead.
Glug-glug.
The way the Profound Demon poured the wine was peculiar.
Most people would grip the concave neck of the bottle for comfort while tilting it to fill their cup.
But he spread his palm wide, grasping the broad base of the bottle—too large to be held in one hand—and poured.
It was as if the bottle had adhered perfectly to his palm.
He wasn't even exerting any internal energy. His slender, elongated fingers simply held the wide base with effortless ease.
'If he can grip the base of such a large bottle so comfortably...'
In that instant, Bu Eun-seol realized:
If a weapon were placed in those pale hands—no matter how dire the situation, it would never slip free.
Glug-glug.
Wi Ji-mua refilled his cup, then finally acknowledged Bu Eun-seol's presence with a low voice.
"Care for a drink?"
Bu Eun-seol nodded and took the seat opposite Wi Ji-mua.
At once, a wine cup materialized before him—as if it had always been there.
It wasn't the result of high-speed movement. Rather, the space itself had shifted to bring the cup forth.
Glug-glug.
Before he knew it, the cup was filled.
The wine inside the transparent vessel wasn't clear but bore a faint greenish hue.
"Did you brew this yourself?"
Bu Eun-seol lifted the cup containing the strangely colored liquor and asked.
Normally, wine crafted by Wi Ji-mua was mild in fragrance and smooth as water.
But the wine in this cup carried a pungent aroma, mingled with the foul stench of medicine and something even more unpleasant.
"No, this time I paid a hefty price for it."
"I see."
Without hesitation, Bu Eun-seol raised the cup and downed the wine.
Immediately, a fiery energy surged down his throat, and a revolting stench spread from the tip of his nose.
Even if he had swallowed a blend of Extreme Poison, it might have tasted better than this.
"Well?"
At Wi Ji-mua's prompting, Bu Eun-seol frowned and answered honestly.
"It doesn't seem like a drink meant for enjoyment."
"Describe its taste precisely."
"It's so foul, it makes me want to plug my nose."
"Is that so?"
Rather than taking offense, Wi Ji-mua nodded with an oddly pleased expression.
"Somehow, those who speak blunt truths like you have all vanished from this sect."
Sensing the deeper meaning behind those words, Bu Eun-seol replied as if offering consolation.
"How many in this world would dare speak the unvarnished truth before the Sect Leader?"
Wi Ji-mua gave a self-deprecating smile before pouring more wine.
"Truth be told, this wine is what the world's greatest connoisseurs hail as the finest—Dream Drunk Immortal."
"Dream Drunk Immortal."
Bu Eun-seol's lips parted slightly.
The legendary wine, crafted from the waters of Kunlun Mountain and the petals of the mystical Snow Summit Flower—which blooms only once every ten years under a full moon.
Made from the highest-grade red sorghum, distilled nine times and filtered nine times.
Then aged for at least thirty years in jars made from millennium-old jade.
But the secret to brewing Dream Drunk Immortal had been lost long ago.
The remaining bottles were said to be worth the price of a castle.
And yet—this abominable-tasting liquor was Dream Drunk Immortal?
"That's strange. I've heard Dream Drunk Immortal is crystal clear, entirely free of impurities."
Bu Eun-seol lowered his gaze to the cup.
The wine was tinged green, with dark specks of impurity floating within.
"Unavoidable."
Wi Ji-mua shook his head.
"I mixed in Snow Jade."
Bu Eun-seol's lips parted once more.
Snow Jade—grown in regions of perpetual ice and snow, absorbing the essence of melting glaciers and mineral-rich rocks, developing unique properties.
Harvested only during the brief moment sunlight reaches the gorge in spring, using special tools to pluck the downy tea leaves.
Miss the timing or face unfavorable weather, and the entire year's harvest is lost.
It is said that a single cup of tea made from Snow Jade costs as much as dozens of grand estates.
Yet to mix such precious Dream Drunk Immortal with exorbitantly expensive Snow Jade tea—
"Fascinating, isn't it?"
Wi Ji-mua gazed at Bu Eun-seol with an inscrutable expression.
"Blending the finest tea with the finest wine... only for it to become something utterly undrinkable—the worst of both."
The pinnacle of tea and the pinnacle of wine—
The two could never coexist.
Because each had reached its own zenith.
Because they existed in singular, unadulterated forms.
Only then could they achieve their supreme states.
"Much like the current state of our sect."
Wi Ji-mua muttered under his breath before speaking to Bu Eun-seol.
"Even if one were to combine the finest spirit with the finest body... if they originate from different sources, harmony would be impossible."
His gaze dropped back to the wine cup as he murmured,
"It is precisely because they refuse mixture—because they remain pure and singular—that they can reach the highest realm... and never encroach upon another's domain."
Those words carried not only profound insight—
But also an explanation for why the Fire Rain Sword Sect had come to this, why such a situation had unfolded.
After a long silence, Bu Eun-seol spoke.
"Why... are you going to such lengths for me?"
Wi Ji-mua was an absolute master—one whom Bu Eun-seol could never defeat, even if he fought with his life on the line.
Yet from the very beginning until now—
He had never once treated Bu Eun-seol as an enemy, always regarding him as a disciple of the sect.
Even now, in this situation where Bu Eun-seol had come to tear down the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
Had Wi Ji-mua not extended such goodwill—
Bu Eun-seol would have had to carve a path of blood, fighting countless masters just to reach the sect's gates.
"'Why,' you ask..."
Wi Ji-mua crossed his arms and looked up at the gray-stained sky, his eyes filling with white snowflakes.
"Rather, I should be the one asking."
He lowered his head and met Bu Eun-seol's gaze.
"You were only taught a few sword techniques, given a bit of guidance."
Wi Ji-mua shook his head.
"Why, then, do you harbor such deep affection for this sect?"
From Wi Ji-mua's perspective—
Bu Eun-seol had merely learned a handful of sword strokes from Jin Gak, Cheon Un-gwang, and others.
Of course, they had not formed a master-disciple bond.
It was uncommon, though not unheard of, for a sect's exclusive sword studies to be imparted to an outsider.
The dream of martial artists was to make a name for themselves—
And beyond that, to discover a prodigy with peerless talent, one capable of perfecting their martial arts.
Thus, there were no small number who freely passed down their techniques—
Without forming master-disciple ties or imposing conditions.
Moreover, Bu Eun-seol had returned a perfected version of the Peerless Thunderbolt to the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
Even after clashing with Wi Ji-hye-sang multiple times, he had refrained from retaliation, maintaining restraint.
In truth, neither owed the other anything.
—And yet, despite owing nothing to one another...
Was it solely because Jin Gak, Cheon Un-gwang, and Dan Cheon-yang had been killed—
That he had come here alone, staking his life in outrage over their deaths?
That was what Wi Ji-mua was asking.
"I failed to repay them."
Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
"All three bestowed upon me kindness as vast as the heavens—yet I could not repay them."
The foundation of his sword studies was the Fire Rain Sword.
Jin Gak had personally taken up the sword—
To diligently teach Bu Eun-seol the basics of swordplay on Hell Island when he arrived late and alone.
Cheon Un-gwang had shared his lifelong exclusive sword studies—
So that Bu Eun-seol could quickly enter Advanced Sword Studies and avoid straying down the wrong path.
Dan Cheon-yang had discerned that Bu Eun-seol would inevitably reach the realm of the Sword Path—
And laid the framework for him to interpret and innovate the principles of Advanced Sword Studies.
"They taught you not out of kindness, but as part of a simple agreement with the Demon Hall."
Wi Ji-mua shook his head.
"Hall Master Cheon's teachings were his personally devised sword art, not our sect's."
"It doesn't matter."
Bu Eun-seol replied flatly.
"A debt unpaid remains a debt unpaid."
Wi Ji-mua sighed.
"Then why come alone?"
After a brief silence, Bu Eun-seol answered in a low voice.
"Because I know what kind of person the Sect Leader is."
Wi Ji-mua was broad-minded, and above all, possessed the foresight of discerning wisdom.
He would never endanger his disciples, nor stand idly by as the sect crumbled—
Bu Eun-seol had believed he would resolve this situation more wisely than anyone.
"I'd like to ask the same question in return."
Wi Ji-mua offered a dry smile.
"But when someone like you resolves to destroy this sect, I can only assume you've prepared thoroughly for it."
Then, with a desolate expression, he murmured:
"Because there are no longer any figures in our sect who could stop either your martial arts or your schemes."
Wi Ji-mua possessed both the sufficient strength and wisdom to block Bu Eun-seol.
Yet, strangely enough, he excluded himself from that possibility.
"Moreover, haven't you accomplished everything that was predicted to be impossible until now?"
Wi Ji-mua, who had been staring intently at Bu Eun-seol, bared his white teeth in a smile.
"Perhaps you even predicted that this sect leader would take such actions."
They weren't master and disciple—they had only met a handful of times.
Yet the two understood each other far too well.
A long silence passed between them.
It was Wi Ji-mua who broke that silence.
"What do you intend to do now?"
"I plan to dismantle the Fire Rain Sword Sect."
Bu Eun-seol spoke cautiously, yet with unwavering resolve.
"Until it can no longer function as it once did—until it returns to its original form."
"'Its original form,' you say."
Wi Ji-mua tilted his head, ruminating over those words.
"Why go through such hardship for that? Simply destroying it would be easier."
"I made a promise to Instructor Jin Gak."
Bu Eun-seol's expression turned somber.
"He asked me to preserve the Fire Rain Sword Sect that you once loved."
"Jin Gak was an exceptional talent."
Wi Ji-mua gazed at the distant sky with regret.
"A man like him should have remained in our sect for much longer..."
He genuinely lamented Jin Gak's death.
"If only he had been born in an ordinary era, rather than this chaotic age where the Abyssal Forces rear their heads..."
Wi Ji-mua sighed deeply.
"He would have undoubtedly become a sect leader capable of leading the Fire Rain Sword Sect."
"I share that sentiment."
Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath.
If things continued like this, he might restore the Fire Rain Sword Sect to its rightful state without even fighting.
If Wi Ji-mua cooperated...
Surely, it would be possible.
"Turn back."
But Wi Ji-mua's next words defied expectations.
"You cannot dismantle this sect. And you must not."
"I must."
"Sealing the Extinction Palace wasn't enough—if you meddle with our sect, do you even realize what will happen?"
Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
"I do."
"You do?"
"I have operated an intelligence network for a long time. And in doing so, I uncovered countless hidden forces lurking beneath the martial world's surface."
Bu Eun-seol explained calmly.
"The deeper I delved into the Abyss, the more incomprehensible things I found."
His eyes flashed with a sharp light as he continued.
"With so many Abyssal Forces existing in the martial world, how is it possible that none of the countless martial factions are aware of them...?"
Bu Eun-seol wasn't looking at Wi Ji-mua anymore—his gaze was fixed on empty air.
"Could the reason such a thing is possible... be because the forces lurking in that Abyss are the real ones?"
After a long silence, Wi Ji-mua finally spoke.
"You were always sharp-witted."
"......"
"And yet, you never avoided trials—you faced them head-on. That was something I truly admired."
Clever people tend to evade hardships, seeking the easiest path to their goals.
But Bu Eun-seol never once did that.
He walked silently through thorny paths, overcoming each trial one by one.
This is easier said than done.
Humans instinctively seek comfort.
Those who knowingly choose treacherous, painful paths are exceedingly rare.
"Intelligent people usually find ways to avoid trials."
A self-deprecating smile touched his lips.
"Just like this sect leader."
Wi Ji-mua, known as the Profound Demon, possessed profound knowledge and exceptional wisdom.
When crises arose, he had always relied on his brilliant mind to resolve them.
"It's not too late even now."
Bu Eun-seol spoke earnestly.
"It may seem like retracing steps, but this is the path to restoring the Fire Rain Sword Sect."
"That cannot be."
Wi Ji-mua shook his head.
"The courtesy I showed you by facing you alone was only because you came to our sect alone."
"Sect Leader."
Wi Ji-mua's refusal was firm, his tone a warning.
"I will not permit you to meddle with our sect any further."
"Is this truly necessary?"
"How insolent."
In an instant, a blinding white light surged from Wi Ji-mua's eyes.
"'Is this truly necessary,' you say..."
At that moment, it felt as though countless stars had suddenly risen into the sky.
A swirling galaxy of shimmering silver unfolded behind him, as if time and space themselves were bending.
Like a god commanding the fundamental laws of the universe—the birth and destruction of all things.
"Only this sect leader has the right to say such words!"
The crushing weight of Mount Tai piercing the heavens, the earth-shattering tremors of a quake splitting the land.
The ferocity of a typhoon threatening to swallow everything whole,
And the suffocating pressure of the deepest abyss—all of it bore down upon Bu Eun-seol in relentless waves.