Chapter 1071
'Something's wrong.'
It was true that Grandfather had cut down countless people until now.
Yet the reason he hadn't become an Enemy of the Murim was not just because he possessed the authority and power to avoid it—
But above all, because he had never massacred innocent civilians.
But now, of all things, he had slaughtered the people of this remote village, and only women and children at that?
"Fortunately, thanks to our benefactor luring that bastard here and defeating him, we avoided complete annihilation... but our village was already reduced to ashes."
"You're saying my late father stopped him?"
"That's correct."
As the old man bowed his head with a pained expression, Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath and asked again.
"Such a cruel and unjust tragedy occurred—why didn't you make this known?"
"What power do we have?"
The old man wore a tormented expression.
"That demon not only held immense authority but left behind no evidence whatsoever. Even if we had made it public, it would have been useless."
Then, in a voice thick with anger, he continued.
"In fact, we even reported it to the government office, but they claimed the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade was elsewhere at the time."
The old man closed his eyes in despair.
"With perfect evidence proving his innocence... there was nothing we could do."
Bu Eun-seol drew a long breath.
If Grandfather had been determined to conceal his own deeds—who could have possibly uncovered the truth?
Especially in this remote mountain village.
Even if the villagers had claimed that a master like the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade had come and slaughtered their women and children—
No one would have believed them.
And without any evidence—
For the villagers, it must have been a tragedy that brought them to tears, yet they could neither prove the injustice nor refute the claims against them.
"So this is the place where your father fought?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, the old man let out a deep sigh and answered.
"That's right. The benefactor lured that demon, who was in the midst of slaughter, here and drove him away."
Bu Eun-seol, lost in thought for a moment, pointed to the pond.
"Was that pond originally here?"
"Yes."
The old man gazed at the pond with clouded eyes.
"I think it used to be a little bigger... but it's been so long, my memory might be playing tricks on me."
The battle between the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade Bu Jan-yang and the Murim's First Beauty Baekri Mu-ha must have been a clash so fierce it altered the colors of the sky and reshaped the terrain.
Yet that small pond remained completely intact.
"Afterward, the benefactor swiftly helped rebuild the village."
The old man sighed and slumped his shoulders.
"That's all I know."
"I see."
Bu Eun-seol bowed respectfully.
"It must have been painful for you—thank you for telling me everything."
The old man, seeing the serene and dignified Bu Eun-seol bow to him with such courtesy,
Shook his head with a faint smile.
"Not at all. Our benefactor risked his life to protect our village... What difficulty is there in telling his descendant about what happened?"
The old man was genuinely grateful to Baekri Mu-ha.
If not for him, the villagers would have been completely massacred.
"Well then. Take your time looking around."
As if sensing Bu Eun-seol's thoughts,
"I'll head down first."
The old man bowed politely and began descending the mountain with his hunched gait.
Bu Eun-seol stared at the pond for a long time.
The place where Grandfather and Father had clashed.
For a beautiful pond to remain perfectly intact in such a place was neither ordinary nor coincidental.
Zzzzing.
Bu Eun-seol immediately activated the Empty Mind Spirit Communion.
Even though it was a secret art capable of detecting traces decades old, no clues remained.
'Then—'
Suddenly, the living battle formation from Immortal Valley, where Blood God Heaven had been, came to mind.
On a hunch, he placed his hand on the ground and activated the Heavenly Robe Mind Art.
Not only could it analyze the flow of qi in martial artists, but it could instantly grasp the blood circulation and energy flow of living beings—yet even with this, nothing stood out.
"It's unlikely they deliberately hid something here."
If Grandfather and Father had clashed with their full strength—
Not just this village, but the entire surrounding area would have been utterly destroyed.
So how could this place remain completely unscathed, with the pond still perfectly preserved?
"I don't know."
Even after spending a meal's time investigating, he found nothing.
Having exhausted his mental power, Bu Eun-seol finally slumped down in front of the pond.
When he lifted his head, the sky was clear, and the area around the pond was endlessly tranquil.
The breeze brushed past his hair, and a pleasant fragrance drifted into his nose.
If he had been in a leisurely mood, he might have sprawled out, resting his head on his arms, and enjoyed an idle afternoon nap.
"Wait."
Bu Eun-seol, who had been sensing the flow of the wind, detected something peculiar.
The wind was clearly blowing from behind him, brushing past his hair.
Yet the ripples on the pond did not follow the wind's current—instead, they carried an entirely different undulation.
"This..."
He rose to his feet and observed the pond once more.
"It's the very imprint of their clash."
After staring intently at the water's surface for a long while, his eyes widened.
Upon closer inspection, certain parts of the pond felt slightly taut, heavier—as if the water itself was different from ordinary water.
This difference was something words couldn't describe...
It was a subtle distinction that only Bu Eun-seol, who not only possessed extrasensory perception surpassing human limits but had also endlessly faced the Limitless Power—a force capable of shattering both the internal and external aspects of an enemy through specific vibrations—could detect.
"This flow..."
Ripple, ripple.
From the faintly trembling surface, an invisible current continuously emanated—one that the naked eye couldn't perceive.
"It's not the wind..."
Only then did Bu Eun-seol realize a terrifying truth.
"The aftermath of their collision has left their intent imprinted upon this water's surface."
A chill ran down his spine, and goosebumps rose on his skin.
Just what level had those two reached...?
That even now, decades later, their intent remained etched upon this small pond?
—I think it was a bit bigger back then... Though it might just feel that way because the memory is so old.
Recalling the old man's words, Bu Eun-seol nodded.
"The pond was remade by their power."
At the moment of the two supreme masters' collision—
The very structure of the water had been completely overturned, rearranged into a surface imbued with martial arts and intent.
In other words, the battle between his grandfather and father had been engraved upon this water.
As if to prove it, when he examined the pond's flow in detail—
It contained the minute shifts of muscle and posture that occurred when martial techniques were executed.
'No one could have unraveled this secret.'
The Abyss Society knew this was the place where his grandfather and father had clashed.
Meaning, the Three Attendants must have known of this location as well.
And yet, Bu Eun-seol alone had been able to uncover its secret—
Because he was the only one who had learned both his grandfather's saber arts and his father's Imperial Step.
'But like this, I still can't see it clearly.'
From the ripples alone, he couldn't deduce the exact postures or movements.
'I have to try anyway.'
Ziiing—
Bu Eun-seol simultaneously activated Empty Mind Spirit Communion and Heavenly Robe Mind Art, but even that wasn't enough to fully decipher the motions embedded within.
'I have to find a way to read these vibrations.'
Having come this far—
If he failed to uncover the traces of his grandfather and father... wouldn't all of this be for nothing?
Whoosh.
At that moment, his right eye began to burn, and blue flames flickered into existence.
The power of the Ancient Sword Forest.
A mysterious ability that allowed him to discern the properties of all forces scattered throughout the world had activated.
'I can feel it.'
What had previously been nothing more than a vague sensation gradually sharpened into a clear form.
Swish.
Bu Eun-seol picked up a wooden stick and began tracing the flow, sketching onto the ground.
Scratch, scratch, scratch.
In an instant, the shadows of two figures were etched into the earth.
One wielded a great saber, while the other stood with his hands clasped behind his back, deflecting the attack.
'Grandfather's Bloody Tears Seven Forms clashed with Father's Imperial Step.'
In the State of Selflessness, Bu Eun-seol continued drawing without pause, guided by the water's flow.
The reason this was possible—
Was not only due to the combined power of Empty Mind Spirit Communion, Heavenly Robe Mind Art, and the Ancient Sword Forest—
But also because he had, to some extent, physically internalized both the Bloody Tears Seven Forms and the Imperial Step.
Swish, swish, scratch—
As Bu Eun-seol feverishly sketched, the final scene at last took form.
"Into the Blade Stance."
Shockingly, his father had unleashed the Imperial Step, pierced through the Bloody Tears Seven Forms, and closed the distance to within three feet of his grandfather.
"Breaking through the blade's momentum alone isn't enough for victory."
The Bloody Tears Seven Forms dealt in absolute death—
And before delivering death to the enemy, the wielder themselves must first enter the realm of death.
His grandfather had refined the Bloody Tears Seven Forms to the Great Perfection, becoming death itself.
Even if his father breached the Blade Stance and attacked, it would be meaningless.
"He stopped."
Perhaps realizing this, his father—despite entering the Blade Stance—did not immediately unleash a Killing Move.
But then, his grandfather did something incomprehensible.
Even though he could have delivered perfect death—
He halted his movements, refusing to strike his father, who had closed the distance.
"The fight ended here."
According to the vibrations remaining in the pond, the battle had concluded at that moment.
Bu Eun-seol pressed a hand to his forehead.
'I don't understand.'
His grandfather had come to Stone Gate Village and massacred the women and children.
His father had sought him out and fought a life-or-death battle here.
Yet the two men had acted as if by some unspoken agreement...
At the decisive moment, neither had struck the fatal blow.
'Why?'
What remained here were the martial arts of two Absolute Grandmasters—not their words.
Thus, there was no way to know precisely what had transpired between them.
Only one thing was certain:
At the critical moment, as if bound by a pact, they had halted their decisive attacks and withdrawn their hands.
"Why."
After agonizing over it for a long while, Bu Eun-seol erased all the drawings.
"These postures might just be my own imagination."
After all, it was he who had inferred their movements from the ripples on the water's surface.
"Then what if I focus only on their feet?"
Deep in thought, he began meticulously sketching only the positions of their feet to better grasp their martial forms.
"This..."
After tracing the paths his father had taken, Bu Eun-seol couldn't help but widen his eyes.
"He wasn't just walking with his hands clasped behind his back, executing the Imperial Step."
When a person moves with their hands clasped behind their back,
the movement of their arms is restricted, reducing unnecessary motion in the upper body.
As a result, their steps become stable and measured,
the pressure distribution upon footfall remains relatively even, and the asymmetry between left and right footprints nearly vanishes.
But his father had widened his stance—deliberately—to maintain even better balance.
In simpler terms, he had spread his feet for greater stability.
And the reason for this phenomenon was...
"He was moving while gripping something weighted—like a sword."
Even a sword weighing just four taels.
If one moves while brandishing it, the upper body's rotation is restricted or exerts force in a specific direction.
To compensate for this,
the leg muscles engage more forcefully, or the way the feet push against the ground changes.
'Had I not worked as an undertaker, I would never have known.'
The knowledge he had learned from his grandfather while working at the funeral parlor... still guided him toward the truth.
"Father wasn't just executing the Imperial Step—he was unfolding an attack while doing so."
Refocusing, Bu Eun-seol began sketching only his father's footprints.
Footprints, surprisingly, hold a wealth of information.
In the past, alongside his grandfather,
he had deduced the cause of death—even the exact method—of deceased martial artists by analyzing the position, direction, depth, pressure, drag, and rotation of their footprints.
"At least there's that..."
Here, the water's surface bore the imprints of the two masters' movements,
allowing him to discern their weight distribution, depth, pressure, drag, and rotation.
"...Complicated."
Yet, because they were all in the form of ripples, he couldn't perceive them clearly.
"No—I can."
Having unconsciously internalized the essence of their martial arts...
it wasn't entirely impossible to reconstruct the information here by combining it with martial principles.
One day passed, then two.
Throughout, Bu Eun-seol stood like a statue, blankly staring at the sky.
Finally, on the dawn of the third day,
a faint light flickered in his eyes.
As the sun rose in a blaze of radiance,
he realized that the previously indecipherable trajectories formed a single sword technique.
"The Sword Stroke of a Single Moment."
At last, he had grasped—in his own way—the sword technique left behind by his father, Baekri Mu-ha.
Swish. Swish-swish.
Bu Eun-seol began tracing countless lines with a tree branch.
Even as a single stroke, it contained too many unpredictable variations—far beyond what his mind could calculate.
Fortunately, thanks to his genius intellect, his prodigious martial talent, and his relentless perseverance,
he reconstructed the ripples left by his father and grandfather back into movement, isolating only the footwork from those motions,
and deciphered the subtleties and forms of that sword technique.
Swiik!
Before he knew it, Bu Eun-seol was swinging the branch through the air.
KWA-RUNG!
What erupted from the tip wasn't so much sword energy as it was the roar of an overwhelming force.
Like an invisible colossal hammer slamming into the heart of the forest, a dozen trees ahead exploded without so much as a scream, scattering fragments in all directions.
The earth was gouged deeply, and charred dust billowed thickly under the moonlight.
"This isn't right."
Pale-faced, Bu Eun-seol staggered back a few steps from the shockwave.
He had only executed a single stroke—yet his internal energy was completely drained.
"Again."
After steadying his breath, he adjusted his stance once more.
This time, he discarded all force, focusing solely on form and flow.
"......"
No sound. No preparatory motion. His body swayed like a serpent, beginning an eerie dance.
The branch writhed in his hand as though alive, threatening to slip free.
Its trajectory was neither straight nor curved—but a twisted, irregular line, the kind seen only in nightmares.
Sssrrrk.
The space where the branch passed showed no visible change.
Neither cut nor shattered.
Yet moments later, something bizarre occurred.
Rustle.
Following the trajectory of the branch, the lush green leaves instantly withered, turning yellow and crumpling.
The ashen leaves crumbled into dust, scattering to the ground—not as if sliced, but as though drained of life itself.
This was no sword technique—it resembled the eerie traces of a soul-siphoning sorcery.
"This isn't it either."
When he unleashed the Sword Form again, this time, the Extreme Yang Energy within him surged forth.
Whoosh—
The surrounding trees instantly turned to ash.
"A failure."
Beads of sweat formed on Bu Eun-seol's forehead.
"This isn't swordsmanship—it's pure destruction."
Even so, he continued to execute Sword Forms without pause.
For three full days.
"Haaah..."
Finally, Bu Eun-seol inhaled deeply and slumped against a large boulder.
Though he had only trained for three days, his stamina and qi were utterly depleted, as if he had practiced martial arts for dozens of days.
"In the end... a failure after all."
The lines he had drawn were impossibly complex.
Yet none of them connected into a true Sword Stroke.
"Well, if one could steal another's sword techniques like this, there would be no such thing as secret martial arts in this world."
Perhaps if they were scars left on a person's body—but this?
To deduce a sword technique from mere ripples on a pond's surface?
If such a thing were possible, secret martial arts wouldn't exist. The greatest masters would have long since had their Advanced Sword Studies stolen by others.
"I was too impatient."
Thud.
Even the weight of the Ink Soul Sword felt unbearably heavy now.
As he lowered it to the ground—
"......!"
His pupils dilated as he stared at the chaotic lines etched into the earth.
The Ink Soul Sword was emitting a faint glow.
In truth, this radiance had first appeared back in Ratna City when the sword was exposed to the Sacred Artifact—but only now did he notice it.
"Could it be...?"
Realizing something, he placed the scabbard of the Ink Soul Sword on the ground. Then, with all his might, he began channeling every ounce of his energy.
Chaaang—
A clear, resonant sound rang out as a mystical light spread from the blade.
He had poured all his power into the Ink Soul Sword.
Huummm...
A low vibration emanated from the scabbard, and strange patterns began to unfold.
'Just as I thought!'
His eyes flashed.
He compared the patterns engraved on the scabbard to the lines he had drawn on the ground.
Swish. Swish.
With an entranced expression, he entered the State of Selflessness and began connecting the countless lines, one by one, following the scabbard's engravings.
Sssk—sssk—
At last, the chaotic lines... perfectly matched the patterns on the Ink Soul Sword.
"They weren't just random engravings."
His voice trembled as he whispered.
"These patterns... were a diagram of the sword technique."
The markings that appeared whenever he channeled energy into the Ink Soul Sword—
They were a visual guide to the Sword Strokes his father had once wielded.
"Had it not been for the ripples left here, I would never have known."
Thanks to the water's surface, he had vaguely grasped his father's footwork and some of the Sword Strokes.
But to truly comprehend them—
He needed both the Primordial Origin Energy, the purest form of Natural Qi...
And, above all, the patterns engraved on the Ink Soul Sword.
Without them?
Even if his intellect were hundreds of times greater, he could never have uncovered this technique.
"Wind stirs, thunder emerges. Wind and thunder clash. Fire and wind incite. All things awaken. Mountains rise, marshes spread. Gather and multiply. Water moistens, fire blazes. Wax and wane, transform..."
As he studied the diagram, Bu Eun-seol began translating the Sword Stroke's variations into mnemonic verses.
Advanced Sword Studies inevitably required a comprehensive chant—one that encompassed the intricate changes, the hexagrams of the I Ching, the Five Elements, the Earthly Branches, and numerical principles. It was the embodiment of sword philosophy itself.
But Bu Eun-seol had relentlessly trained and researched martial arts until now.
He had reached a level where he could distill movements into mnemonic verses—
And now, he was transforming the secrets gleaned from these engravings into a martial scripture.
Click.
Finally, after completing the chant, Bu Eun-seol lowered his stance.
His left hand stretched forward, while his right—gripping the Ink Soul Sword in a reverse grip—drew back.
"Movement and stillness respond, birthing change—unbound by rigid form..."
Ziiing—
Suddenly, flowers bloomed around him, and the rocks glittered like jewels.
"The highest victory is the one uncontested..."
Ssshh—ssshh—
The wind blew, and the mountains, rivers, plants, and trees radiated a dazzling light. Birdsong echoed from somewhere, ringing high and clear.
"As the world's successes and failures, glory and shame, cycle endlessly—so too shall the flow of the sword."
Flash!
In that instant, a brilliant light erupted from Bu Eun-seol's body.
The energy of life.
Unlike the Bloody Tears Seven Forms, this sword technique wielded the pure vitality of existence itself.