Chapter 1032
"Nonsense. What kind of absurd drivel is this?"
It was only natural that Wi Ji-hon refused to believe it.
He had never even dreamed that Bu Eun-seol harbored a split personality—let alone that he had once summoned that alternate persona into reality.
"You've never tasted true despair, have you?"
Bu Eun-seol sighed, his sharp gaze fixed on Wi Ji-hon.
"To unfold a Mindscape is to invite your enemy into the depths of your own Spirit and Mind."
The foundation of a Mindscape ultimately lies within the caster's own psyche.
From the moment their battle began,
Bu Eun-seol had realized this was Wi Ji-hon's inner world—and he possessed the ability to construct a Mindscape of his own.
Moreover, he could deploy Phantom Restoration, the pinnacle of mental martial arts mastered by Ak Mu-ryeong.
Thus, within this exquisitely crafted and meticulously detailed Mindscape, Bu Eun-seol had glimpsed into the abyss hidden deep within Wi Ji-hon's soul.
Crunch.
Wi Ji-hon clenched his fists.
The longer their battle raged, the more chaotic his thoughts became.
He had already found it strange—why was the power of his Mind's Eye Severing Shadow Sword gradually weakening?
But now, to think this had all been part of that bastard's plan from the start?
"Even if this is my Mindscape, you shouldn't have been able to peer into its abyss..."
Wi Ji-hon muttered in disbelief.
"Fear."
Bu Eun-seol answered.
"The fear buried in your heart illuminated the abyss of this Mindscape like a lantern."
In an instant, Wi Ji-hon's face twisted.
As people age, they tend to let go of their attachment to life.
But Wi Ji-hon had dreamed of immortality. Under the pretense of perfecting martial arts and elevating the Fire Rain Sword Sect, he had embraced even the most sinister Great Arts.
His obsession with survival surpassed all others.
Worse still, he had long been tormented by doubt—was he truly Wi Ji-hon, or merely a vessel inheriting his memories and personality?
Each time that uncertainty surfaced, he was seized by a terror so deep it threatened to swallow him whole—the fear that he might vanish like a fleeting bubble.
And the moment he unfolded his Mindscape, that fear had manifested as a fatal weakness.
Rumble—
The earth itself seemed to quake as everything began to crumble.
The power of the Sixth Level of Phase Integers was not meant to drag an enemy into a Mindscape—
Rather, it was the power to overturn reality itself.
But as Bu Eun-seol shattered Wi Ji-hon's fortified Mindscape, that power began to distort even the real world.
"Wi Ji-hon, your personality is likely the genuine article."
Bu Eun-seol spoke dispassionately.
"You perfectly embody the image of an old man consumed by greed."
Sshhk—!
A cold flash of steel, and blood burst from Wi Ji-hon's shoulder.
Bu Eun-seol had unleashed a sword stroke swift as lightning.
"As I thought. Only in a Mindscape can you truly exhibit your full strength."
Wi Ji-hon could not retort.
Though the Great Art had reshaped his personality and even adjusted his physique, there were clear limits.
The profound martial arts he had once mastered—
They could only be unleashed within the spiritual realm of the Mindscape.
After all, Wi Ji-hye-sang's body was not his original vessel, tempered by decades of swordsmanship.
Sssst—! Crackle, crackle—!
Drops of light began cascading from Bu Eun-seol's Ink Soul Sword.
Wi Ji-hon attempted to counter with his Fire Rain Sword, but—
Sshhk! Sshhk!
After some forty exchanges, dozens of wounds had opened across his body.
Bu Eun-seol's mastery of the Fire Rain Sword—
Was overwhelming Wi Ji-hon's own.
"You're holding up well."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes, burning crimson like those of a Death God, narrowed slowly.
"But Death already has its hand around your neck."
"Preposterous!"
Wi Ji-hon roared defiantly, as if still confident, and launched a counterattack.
Flash! Flash!
Yet each time Bu Eun-seol unleashed a Killing Move from the Fire Rain Sword, Wi Ji-hon's defenses inexplicably faltered, exposing fatal openings.
Again and again, the blade grazed perilously close to Death Points—where even the slightest prick would be lethal.
Shudder.
Wi Ji-hon's Spirit and Mind began drowning in terror.
At last, he realized the truth—he could never defeat Bu Eun-seol.
"I don't want to die."
He refused to savor death.
From the moment he had initiated the Great Art to transfer his personality, he had dreamed of eternal life.
If he could just keep living like this—
He had even believed he might surpass the True Demon.
But to die wretchedly here? Unthinkable.
"I will never accept death."
Crack.
Then, Wi Ji-hon's head twisted unnaturally. Simultaneously, his skin tone and the light in his eyes began to shift.
As Death loomed closer, Wi Ji-hon succumbed to fear in the end—
Coward that he was, he swapped personalities with Wi Ji-hye-sang.
"The suffering must continue."
A razor-sharp glint flashed in Bu Eun-seol's pupils as he watched the scene unfold.
"Who gave you the right to switch?!"
KWAANG!
At the same moment, a shockwave of True Qi erupted from his entire body, surging upward as if to pierce the heavens.
The composure he had meticulously maintained for the sake of victory shattered.
At last, his searing vengeance burst forth.
SWISH!
A maddened surge of sword energy erupted from the Ink Soul Sword, hurtling toward Wi Ji-hon's entire body.
Though he swiftly dodged, the razor-sharp energy still grazed his forehead.
"Futile."
Wi Ji-hon laughed as he wiped the blood dripping from his brow.
"I'll disappear soon anyway—"
But his words cut off as his head twisted unnaturally.
His personality hadn't switched—instead, the wound on his forehead pulsed as if it were about to ignite.
"How—?"
Bu Eun-seol hadn't merely struck with a simple sword slash.
The Mindscape hadn't fully collapsed yet.
He had distorted the structure of Wi Ji-hon's Spirit and Mind, pouring forth a force that cracked the Laws governing the constructed Mindscape.
"All this time, you cowered like a rat—"
A murderous ghost-light flickered in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"—and slaughtered my masters so mercilessly."
He had no understanding of the principles behind the Wi Clan's Great Art.
No knowledge of how they stored personalities within the Mindscape—its structure, system, or mechanics.
Mind Mirror Reversal. Soul-Shaking Strike.
All he had done was detect a minute fracture in Wi Ji-hon's Spirit and Mind.
Then, he turned the mirror of the mind backward—reflecting the abyssal darkness back at his foe, shaking his very soul apart.
"This is for Instructor Dan Cheon-yang."
THUD.
Bu Eun-seol drove the Ink Soul Sword deep into Wi Ji-hon's dantian.
Not just a stab—he twisted it violently, infusing it with Hot River Great Essence True Qi.
Tremble, tremble.
Wi Ji-hon couldn't even muster a groan.
His qi and blood tangled, his Internal Energy dispersing uncontrollably, while the Hot River Great Essence True Qi set every nerve in his body ablaze with agony.
"This is for Instructor Cheon Un-gwang."
Bu Eun-seol plunged the Ink Soul Sword deep into his abdomen once more.
Avoiding the arteries that would grant instant death, he ruptured multiple organs in a complex web of destruction.
Tremble, tremble.
Wi Ji-hon convulsed as a sharp, searing pain wrapped around his entire body, his limbs trembling against his will.
Unable to even breathe properly, he desperately gasped like a fish out of water.
"And this—"
SWISH!
Bu Eun-seol carved a crimson Blood Line across Wi Ji-hon's throat.
Instantly, Wi Ji-hon's entire body stiffened as if frozen.
A metallic taste flooded his mouth alongside unbearable thirst, followed by an overwhelming sense of despair.
His pulse slowed, yet his consciousness remained excruciatingly clear—fully aware of his gradual death.
"—is for Master Jin Gak."
CRACK.
Wi Ji-hon's head was severed.
Never before had Bu Eun-seol resorted to such brutality.
Truthfully, these methods were what he had vowed to use against the one who murdered his grandfather.
But as the resentment of Jin Gak and his two masters—who had perished screaming—rose in his mind...
Unconsciously, he had executed those very techniques within the Mindscape.
Perhaps this was—
An unconscious rehearsal for the day he would enact his true vengeance.
THUD.
At last, Wi Ji-hon's life in the Mindscape was severed.
Drip, drip, drip.
The surrounding scenery began to melt away like flowing wax.
As it did, the world slowly sharpened back into focus—until Wi Ji-hye-sang stood directly before him.
Twitch.
In that instant, the cold, ruthless face—crafted from cunning and cruelty—collapsed in an instant.
The tightly drawn corners of his lips trembled uncontrollably, twisting of their own accord—
Like a clown wearing an ill-fitting mask, convulsing beneath it.
His entire facial muscles rippled in irregular waves, failing to find their proper positions.
His pupils contracted to pinpoints before expanding uncontrollably, repeating the cycle again and again.
The sound of forcibly dislocated joints snapping back into place echoed endlessly.
CRACK.
The skin at the back of his neck, near the cervical spine, swelled unnaturally before a faint, heat-haze-like mist seeped out like smoke.
Finally, a clear, transparent light slowly began to fill his once-empty eyes.
"Haa..."
As if dragged up from the depths of water, Wi Ji-hye-sang inhaled sharply, disoriented.
At last, he had returned to his original form.
Wi Ji-hye-sang, panting heavily, gazed at Bu Eun-seol with a faint smile.
"It's been a while."
"Wi Ji-hye-sang."
"It feels like so much time has passed... yet you haven't changed at all."
Drip.
At the same time, fresh blood trickled from Wi Ji-hye-sang's lips.
The Mindscape that Wi Ji-hon had unfolded was a Phase—an overlay of the Mindscape upon reality.
In the end, even Wi Ji-hye-sang could not escape that death.
Drip, drip.
Blood continued to flow from his neck.
Enough to form a puddle on the ground, yet Wi Ji-hye-sang spoke on as if it were nothing.
"I always wanted to win against you at least once."
He smiled sheepishly.
"It seems none from our sect could ever defeat you."
"That's not true."
Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
"Every sword technique I've used since coming here was the Fire Rain Sword."
"The Fire Rain Sword...?"
"With Langya Pavilion's swordsmanship, I could find no way to break it..."
Then, firmly, he added:
"It was the Fire Rain Sword that won."
Wi Ji-hye-sang laughed brightly.
"I see. In the end, it was our sect's swordsmanship that triumphed."
His vision must have faded—his unfocused eyes lingered on Bu Eun-seol as he spoke.
"Now, show me. The ultimate Sword Studies of our sect."
"......"
"I know. To let me die as myself at the very least, you avoided all the fatal Death Points."
Though he had unleashed brutal sword techniques within the Mindscape, in reality, he had spared every vital point to preserve his life.
Nod.
Bu Eun-seol dipped his head slightly and spoke in a low voice.
"It has already unfolded."
"Sword Dance."
At last, Wi Ji-hye-sang understood what Bu Eun-seol had been pursuing.
What he had glimpsed at the very edge of the Fire Rain Sword.
And so, he nodded.
Then, he recited the sword verse of the Fire Rain Sword:
No sword, forget the sword.
The mind sharper than the blade.
The sword must be hidden within the heart.
The sword becomes intent.
Even empty hands are as the sword.
The obsession and form of the sword vanish.
At last, abandon the sword and attain the Way.
Only after learning the sword verse from Jin Gak and Wi Ji-mua did Bu Eun-seol realize the true nature of the path he sought.
It was the Sword Dance.
The one who wields no sword can defeat the one who does.
Perhaps it was the manifestation of his wish—for even the superlative martial experts of the martial world to become ordinary.
"To fall by the hand of the world's greatest swordsman..."
Wi Ji-hye-sang smiled as he looked at Bu Eun-seol.
"I have... no regrets."
Yet despite his words, his expression was full of longing.
As the successor of the foremost Demonic Sect, he had possessed sufficient talent and wisdom—yet in the end, he could not surpass the wall that was Bu Eun-seol.
He had wanted to strive harder, to bridge that gap.
But the chaotic state of the current martial world had become a place where only the strongest could survive.
And so, no longer as the successor—
He had lived as Wi Ji-hon's puppet, as little more than a new Fake Body.
"But our sect will rise again."
The Fire Rain Sword Sect still had ten thousand disciples standing strong, and Wi Hyeok-gun had grasped the essence of its swordsmanship.
In time, he would surely—
Raise a disciple who would surpass even Wi Ji-mua.
"That he will."
Bu Eun-seol had already given Wi Hyeok-gun the Sect Leader's Token and left behind the true essence of the sword verse he had mastered.
Perhaps Wi Ji-mua, knowing Bu Eun-seol's nature—that he always repaid his debts—
Had passed down the final Insight of the Fire Rain Sword to him for this very reason.
"Now, I think I'd like to rest."
Wi Ji-hye-sang slowly closed his eyes.
"I'll watch from beyond as you stride through the martial world."
Thud.
Wi Ji-hye-sang's breath ceased, as if he had fallen into a deep slumber.
Bu Eun-seol paid his respects to the remains, then turned away.
Though he had schemed ruthlessly—
He had never lost his pride as the successor of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
And after being awakened by his own wave, he had resisted Wi Ji-hon's personality.
In the end, he had acted with dignity and honor as the sect's heir—so even in the afterlife, he would have no regrets.
Step, step.
Bu Eun-seol finally entered the Demon Sword Hall.
Here, Wi Ji-mua, the Fire Rain Sword Sect—
The bloodline of the True Demon, who had tormented Wi Ji-mua and the Fire Rain Sword Sect so, would be cowering within.
Unless he eradicated them, these phantasmal wraiths would continue to be born, again and again.
Rumble.
Finding the hidden mechanism within the Demon Sword Hall, Bu Eun-seol slowly stepped inside.
In the pitch-black darkness, only the sound of his footsteps broke the silence.
At the end of the passage, another massive iron door stood firmly shut—but at his touch, it writhed as if alive, sliding inward.
The moment he passed through the gate, a nauseating stench of blood assaulted his nostrils, mingled with the faint odor of charred flesh.
"......"
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed to slits.
The Wi Clan—descendants of the True Demon who had been practicing forbidden arts within the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
Their stronghold was a vast underground space, now utterly devastated.
The walls were grotesquely melted or blown open in places, and intricate mechanical devices lay shattered in fragments.
The floor was stained with dried, unidentifiable crimson fluid, while stone slabs engraved with bizarre patterns were cracked or broken into pieces.
"Self-destruction, then."
A cold sneer escaped him.
These were nothing more than the True Demon's puppets, after all.
Once everything had failed, they had unhesitatingly destroyed their own mechanisms and chosen suicide.
"Hmm."
As Bu Eun-seol turned away, another wave of disgust surged within him.
These weren't the true roots anyway.
Though he had toppled the Fire Rain Sword Sect, even these remnants of darkness had to be completely eradicated.
—"The Extinction Palace and the Fire Rain Sword Sect have been Sealed."
Shocking rumors spread throughout the martial world.
The Extinction Palace was one thing, but—
The Fire Rain Sword Sect was the foremost among the Demonic Path Ten Gates, the greatest pillar supporting the Demon Hall.
For generations, it had produced the most Demon Hall leaders and was considered the pride of demonic sword studies.
And now, suddenly, it had been Sealed?
—"It was the Martial Soul Lord's doing again."
The master of the Extinction Palace had declared his secession from the Demon Hall, only to be Sealed by the Martial Soul Lord.
Then, not long after, even the Fire Rain Sword Sect was forced into Seclusion.
—"Because they provoked the Martial Soul Lord."
The Fire Rain Sword Sect had beheaded one of their own clan leaders involved in antagonizing the Martial Soul Lord and sent his head as a warning.
Moreover, they had provoked him several times before—this was simply the inevitable outcome.
—"Does that even make sense?"
The Heir of the Demon Hall was supposed to become its future ruler, responsible for the Demonic Path.
Yet instead of strengthening the Demon Hall's influence—
Had he not irreversibly weakened the Demonic Path Ten Gates?
—"So the Extinction Palace was right after all?"
The reason the Extinction Palace had tried to leave the Demon Hall was none other than the Martial Soul Lord's relentless erosion of the Demonic Path Ten Gates' authority and power.
At the time of their declaration, most demonic practitioners had thought the Extinction Palace was acting rashly.
But in hindsight, they had been correct.
Just as demonic public opinion was shifting, another unbelievable rumor began spreading—though no one knew where it originated.
—"The Seven Great Demon Ancestors will appear."
The Seven Great Demon Ancestors.
The primordial origins of the demonic martial arts, the ones who had founded the Seven Demonic Sects—they were the very foundation of the Demonic Path itself.
Though Langya Pavilion's history spanned only seven hundred years,
It had produced so many peerless masters that it was recognized as one of the Demonic Path Ten Gates.
The Fleeting Moment Boat, the predecessor of the Joyous Sect, had demonstrated the power of wealth in the martial world and was acknowledged for its role as the Demon Hall's financial backbone.
The Heaven-Severing, Earth-Destroying Sect, which managed the resting places and martial secrets of the Great Demons, had shared its origins with the Demon Hall, a coalition of demonic factions.
But the Seven Demonic Sects were different.
They had a distinct origin—the Seven Great Demon Ancestors. It was because of them that the Demonic Path had come into existence.
—"But weren't they just legends?"
Not everything recorded in historical texts had truly existed.
Just as Pangu was said to have cleaved heaven and earth, Nüwa to have molded humanity, and divine beings to have descended to impart sacred laws—
The Seven Great Demon Ancestors were known to all in the martial world, yet they had always been dismissed as mere myths.
—"This is going to be a headache."
Whether true or not,
The mere fact that someone was invoking the names of these legendary beings meant they wielded considerable power.
—"Something else is about to shake the martial world."
Martial artists sensed it instinctively.
This resurgence of the Seven Great Demon Ancestors wouldn't end as just another rumor.
—"The Demonic Heavenly Emperor has emerged from seclusion."
Was it a coincidence?
The Demonic Heavenly Emperor had broken his closed-door cultivation and returned to the Demon Hall.
The Seven Great Demon Ancestors were the very roots of the Demonic Path.
Even the Number One of the Demonic Path could not afford to ignore them.
The martial world held its breath, watching the Demon Hall's movements closely.
The actions of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor and the Martial Soul Lord would reshape the martial world once again.
But Bu Eun-seol remained unperturbed.
The Extinction Palace's master, Sindo Jang-cheong.
The Fire Rain Sword Sect's leader, Wi Ji-mua.
Even the Chief Instructor, Wi Hyeok-gun.
Each time they were attacked, they had asked if he knew what consequences awaited him.
—"What this pavilion master means to say is... the Demonic Path Ten Gates you know are not the real ones."
Long ago, Jeok Bung had told Bu Eun-seol this.
Afterward, Bu Eun-seol had investigated the Demonic Path Ten Gates thoroughly and uncovered the truth.
Just as the Baekri Clan and the True Demon Family had existed since antiquity, even the Orthodox and Unorthodox Paths had their origins.
If the precarious balance of the martial world were disrupted, they would emerge.
Their return was an inevitability, preordained like fate itself—
And Bu Eun-seol had merely accelerated the timeline.