Chapter 1109
A deafening roar, like a bolt of lightning striking a parched sky, shook the desolate earth.
A streak of black meteor cut through the mid-air.
"Following the decision of the Demonic Governance Council, all warriors of the Death Shadow War Unit have been dispatched to Shanhaiguan."
"Their orders are to locate the covert branch of the Blood Cult that has infiltrated the region and annihilate every last one of them."
This was the message So-yo had delivered the moment Bu Eun-seol emerged from his secluded training within the Absolute Domain of the Soulless Society.
'The Blood Cult.'
A cold glint flashed in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
Do Nap-geuk, the leader of the Blood Cult, had sworn an oath not to invade the Central Plains.
Yet, he had never abandoned his ambition of conquest, continuously establishing secret branches in preparation.
However, he had refrained from outright aggression.
Each time the Death Shadow War Unit moved, he abandoned a branch, he withdrew without protest, preventing any major clashes—until now.
But if these hidden branches were discovered and left unchecked?
As the one who had extracted the oath from Do Nap-geuk, Bu Eun-seol would bear full responsibility.
Issuing the extermination order through the Death Shadow War Unit was the only logical course of action.
'I cannot blame the elders.'
At some point, Yeop Hyo-cheon had ceased involving himself in any organization—including Bu Eun-seol's—choosing only to follow the commands of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
Yet, despite this, the elders of the Demonic Governance Council had assigned the Blood Cult extermination mission to the Death Shadow War Unit.
If not resolved swiftly, Bu Eun-seol's standing would be jeopardized.
In truth, he owed them gratitude for their decision.
KWAOOO—!
Just as Bu Eun-seol, moving at blinding speed, neared Shanhaiguan—
BOOM!
A thunderous explosion split the air, and his body plummeted violently to the ground.
An invisible, undetectable force—like a bolt of lightning—had struck him down.
CRACKLE—!
A massive crater, three zhang wide, formed where Bu Eun-seol crashed.
Had this occurred near a populated area, the devastation would have been horrific. Fortunately, the surroundings were nothing but an endless Reed Field.
Tap.
In the next moment, a figure clad in resplendent robes landed gracefully before the crater.
Wi Cheong-un—no, it was Pa-myeong, the attendant of the True Demon who shattered fate.
"Rise."
At Pa-myeong's soft command, a surge of dark light erupted from the crater as if awaiting his words.
Simultaneously, a radiant figure descended slowly from the sky.
It was Bu Eun-seol.
"As expected, you've made progress."
Pa-myeong spread his hands in delight, seeing not only that Bu Eun-seol remained unharmed but also the complete absence of fear in his eyes.
"Have you devised some secret technique to oppose me in the meantime?"
Instead of answering, Bu Eun-seol surveyed the scorched Reed Field and murmured,
"You keep your promises."
Pa-myeong could have ambushed him in any advantageous location.
Yet, he had deliberately chosen this uninhabited wasteland before unleashing his lightning-like assault.
"Or perhaps you're bound by something."
A Great Demon like Pa-myeong—whose emotions could not be read—would never care for common folk.
Clearly, some restraint or Restrictive Seal was in place, and he was unwilling to break it.
"Bound?"
Pa-myeong scoffed.
"Do I look like the rabble you've faced until now?"
"Whether you call yourself one of the Three Attendants or whatever, in the end, you're just the True Demon's dog."
"Hahaha! Heh-heh-heh!"
Even faced with such venomous words, Pa-myeong only laughed heartily.
"I'll grant you this—your tongue is sharp enough to match mine."
With a leisurely smile, he gazed down at his own palms.
"Soon, I will transcend all Laws of the martial world. The old rules mean nothing."
From anyone else, such words would have sounded like a joke.
But coming from Pa-myeong, they carried the weight of a terrifying prophecy.
"So you admit you're still constrained by the Laws."
Bu Eun-seol's expression remained indifferent.
"Which is why you didn't act directly. Instead, you lured your subordinates into a trap—the Blood Cult's branch."
"Didn't I warn you?"
Pa-myeong replied languidly.
"If you refuse to die, you will doom everyone around you to destruction."
Then he uttered something horrifying.
"You know what happens to those who defy the Covenant, don't you?"
A flash of light erupted in Bu Eun-seol's pupils.
'So that's how it was.'
In the past, the Executioners had transformed ordinary civilians near their targets into powerful martial artists.
Then, they manipulated them to attack those who rejected the Covenant.
At the time, Bu Eun-seol couldn't fathom how the Sacred Realm could enforce such an unfathomable power—
How it could forcibly bind martial artists to its will.
Now, he understood.
The Secret Arts of the Sacred Realm—
Were derived from Pa-myeong's dark techniques.
No, from the body-snatching Secret Arts created by the True Demon himself.
"Truly, you never stop analyzing."
Pa-myeong sighed as he watched the relentless gleam in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"Not a single word escapes your scrutiny. You pry into everything."
"Are you afraid?"
"I was merely remarking on how pitiful it is—knowing you're fated to die regardless."
Shrugging, Pa-myeong spoke with amusement.
"Come at me. I'll grant you a chance to resist before I kill you in one stroke."
"You'll regret it."
"If you can make me regret it—"
Pa-myeong spread his arms and laughed brightly.
"That would be truly delightful."
Swoosh.
With a cautious expression, Bu Eun-seol drew the Ink Soul Sword.
Pa-myeong remained with his arms outstretched, making no move to defend himself.
After all, no attack could touch him—and any that did would be instantly reflected.
He was utterly confident that nothing Bu Eun-seol did could fell him.
Sssk—
Bu Eun-seol aimed the blade at Pa-myeong with deliberate, excruciating slowness.
Slice.
And then—astonishingly—the fabric near Pa-myeong's shoulder split cleanly apart.
Had he finally perfected a secret technique capable of countering his opponent's methods?
"You neither unfolded a sword stroke nor projected sword energy."
Pa-myeong glanced at the wound on his body and nodded approvingly.
"Emptiness Mind Sword. So, you fancy yourself a Taoist now?"
Pa-myeong could reflect or absorb anything that touched him.
After deep contemplation, Bu Eun-seol had found the solution.
It wasn't some extraordinary secret art—it was the Emptiness Mind Sword, a technique employed by Taoist masters.
If it was truly empty? Then there would be nothing to reflect.
Pat! Pat!
As the Emptiness Mind Sword, devoid of even the slightest intent, unfolded, wounds continued to multiply across Pa-myeong's body.
"Indeed, you truly are a prodigy of peerless martial arts."
Pa-myeong nodded again.
"To wield the Emptiness Mind Sword at your age—something even Taoists take decades of meditation to master? Truly astonishing."
Then, his expression shifted to disappointment.
"But it's not a perfect solution."
"......"
"In the past, countless masters have displayed such skills before this venerable lord."
Fssht!
Suddenly, a long gash appeared on Bu Eun-seol's shoulder.
In the end, even the Emptiness Mind Sword had been reflected.
Worse, while Pa-myeong had suffered only superficial scratches, Bu Eun-seol bore a deep sword wound.
"This is also a paradox of martial arts."
Pa-myeong shrugged.
"You must have thought, 'If conventional attacks are reflected, then a sword technique devoid of consciousness and concept might work...'"
Staring straight at Bu Eun-seol, he spoke as if explaining an amusing riddle.
"But 'nothingness,' once manifested, inevitably becomes 'something.'"
What Pa-myeong described was the supreme principle of martial arts—the philosophy of mu (nothingness).
True emptiness should be nothing at all.
Yet, in order to cut Pa-myeong down, Bu Eun-seol had ultimately unleashed a mind sword imbued with the concept of kong (void)...
Filling the idea of mu (nothingness) with kong (void).
Thus, he had failed to reach the realm of true mu.
"Still, you have talent."
Pa-myeong's eyes gleamed as he regarded Bu Eun-seol.
"Given another decade, you might even shatter this paradox and become a grandmaster of the age."
His attitude was almost...
Like an adult praising a child for daring to strike at him.
He genuinely admired Bu Eun-seol—and was thoroughly enjoying himself.
"Beyond this method, you must have at least one more hidden trump card capable of felling this venerable lord, no?"
He spoke leisurely, as if peering directly into Bu Eun-seol's thoughts.
"After all, you severed the connection with that Langya Pavilion brat."
He had left remnants of his Soul-Demon Magic Energy within Sa-u's body, ensuring he could dominate it at any time.
Should his own form remain incomplete, Sa-u's flesh would serve as an excellent substitute.
But that link had been severed not long ago.
And upon investigating the cause...
He realized Bu Eun-seol had been responsible—leading him to suspect the young man possessed a secret art capable of breaking his Great Art.
"Let us end our conversation here."
Pa-myeong chuckled softly.
"At this point, even if you were to wander the Nine Heavens, you'd have no regrets."
In truth, his words were no mere idle talk.
If the Demonic Heavenly Emperor could pierce an enemy's spirit and manipulate everything through dialogue...
Then Pa-myeong used conversation to crush their fighting spirit and shatter their will.
Like a lion speaking kindly to a rabbit.
Displaying absolute composure and dominance, leaving no room for resistance.
"Oh dear, have I broken you too thoroughly?"
Seeing Bu Eun-seol standing motionless with his head lowered, Pa-myeong clicked his tongue, assuming his will had been utterly crushed.
"This takes all the fun out of it."
Then he extended his hand—and a razor-sharp blade of energy began forming near Bu Eun-seol's chest.
Graceful Pine in the First Wind.
A soft, elegant sword stroke from Mount Hua's Azure Pine Sword Art, evoking a verdant pine swaying in the breeze.
It was meant to pierce Bu Eun-seol's heart in a single thrust.
Clang!
Instinctively, Bu Eun-seol blocked with the Ink Soul Sword—but the sword energy had already shifted, aiming for his lower abdomen.
Like a serpent hidden beneath branches suddenly striking skyward, the Graceful Pine in the First Wind transformed into the Silver Pine Hidden Dragon stroke.
Swish—shhht!
Bu Eun-seol unleashed Swift Shadowless, creating hundreds of afterimages, barely evading the lethal strike.
Yet beads of sweat had already formed on his brow.
"So, you haven't given up. You're hiding your trump card, waiting for the perfect moment."
Pa-myeong laughed even more delightedly, as if seeing through Bu Eun-seol's thoughts.
"Marvelous. This is far too entertaining."
Then he began swirling the sword energy at his fingertips.
Pine Needles Return to Meditation.
Like pine needles settling back into place, his sword traced a smooth circle, assuming a poised stance—
Suppressing counterattacks while preparing his next strike.
'He's not just flaunting arrogance.'
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed.
'He's deliberately selecting sword techniques that perfectly counter mine.'
The Mount Hua Sword Art he wielded...
Was the absolute antithesis of Bu Eun-seol's Fire Rain Sword Art.
'In the end, it wasn't Mount Hua Sword Art at all.'
Bu Eun-seol finally realized.
'It was the orthodox root.'
What Pa-myeong used wasn't the Mount Hua Sect's sword techniques—
But the orthodox martial arts of the Ten Great Immortals, the foundational root of the righteous path.
That a Servant of the True Demon wielded the orthodox root sword art...
Even Bu Eun-seol, as versed in martial arts as Ak Mu-ryeong himself, had grasped this truth far too late.
Fssht! Fssht-fssht-fssht!
The moment Bu Eun-seol realized Pa-myeong's sword art wasn't of the Mount Hua Sect but an orthodox root—the opposite extreme of demonic swordsmanship—
His own swordplay adapted in response.
'In the end, Pa-myeong's method is to invert all conventional logic.'
Suddenly, the faces of those supreme martial experts—whom he had fought with all his might yet been utterly helpless against—rose in his mind.
The Mad Jeongcheon Emperor, who wielded the Four Emperors' Martial Arts, had been so overwhelming that Bu Eun-seol couldn't even dare to counterattack.
The Return-to-One Realm Lord had unleashed a modified version of the Bloody Tears Seven Forms, with power several times his own, inflicting severe internal injuries with every clash.
Yet despite possessing power no less than theirs, Pa-myeong had deliberately left openings for counterattacks, dragging out the fight with seemingly ordinary swordplay.
At first, Bu Eun-seol had thought it was mere amusement—that Pa-myeong was toying with him.
But in truth, that very behavior was his deadliest technique.
'He forced me into rigid thinking—that he was an opponent I could never defeat.'
If one fought with a sword, and their enemy effortlessly blocked it with mere chopsticks—
Naturally, one would assume the enemy was several levels stronger, their momentum waning, their body shrinking back in intimidation.
But what if those "chopsticks" were, in truth... an unparalleled divine blade?
'The weight of the name "Three Attendants" was too great.'
Swish— Crack!
Bu Eun-seol's swordsmanship suddenly surged, matching Pa-myeong blow for blow as they exchanged dozens of strikes in an instant.
For eighty exchanges, their attacks never once touched each other.
"How delightful."
Pa-myeong finally realized Bu Eun-seol had seen through his trick and let out a hoarse chuckle.
"Mid-battle epiphanies and growth—Langya Pavilion disciples truly are the best at that!"
With those words, Pa-myeong's eyes flashed, and instead of swordplay, he unleashed a bizarre force.
Whirrk—!
In that instant, Bu Eun-seol's sword strikes veered wildly off course.
An unfathomable power spread, twisting his movements against his will.
His slashes missed, his internal energy backfired, injuring him instead.
All the martial arts he had honed with his life's devotion crumbled without reason.
As if the very laws of the world rejected him.
Like a bug stripped of its wings and limbs, flailing helplessly in the air—every attempt felt meaningless.
'No matter.'
Pa-myeong's true terror wasn't in overwhelming his foes from the start with terrifying martial prowess.
No—it was in letting them think, "Maybe I can handle this?" before suddenly amplifying his power, drowning them in humiliation and despair.
But because Bu Eun-seol had recognized this from the beginning—
He didn't shrink back. He endured, finding ways to neutralize each attack.
"Hohoho. Good. Very good."
Seeing his assaults no longer working, Pa-myeong wore an expression of deep satisfaction.
"Unable to fully recover my body, I couldn't walk the Martial World openly. So I manipulated others, quietly advancing the Grand Design in secret. All this time, no one could stand against the martial arts I wielded."
Decades of unmatched existence had left him cloaked in unbearable loneliness.
But Bu Eun-seol was different from all the opponents he had faced before.
Unbroken, relentlessly digging into the source of his power.
That fearless tenacity struck Pa-myeong as an exhilarating novelty.
"The most enjoyable fight I've had in thirty years."
Pa-myeong stretched out his hand with a pleased smile.
"Now, it's time for you to fall."
No feast lasts forever.
Having tasted such profound joy, he would now put Bu Eun-seol to eternal rest—preserving this pleasure and thrill as a lingering aftertaste.
BOOM—!
From his hand emerged a massive spear—something no human senses could ever perceive—
And it pierced through Bu Eun-seol's body in an instant.
No—it should have pierced through.
For this was no mere martial art.
It was a spear that "sundered fate"—something only he could wield, something absolutely unavoidable.
Flash—!
At that moment, a pillar of pure white light erupted from Bu Eun-seol's body.
Zzzzt—!
Simultaneously, the spear of True Qi grazed past his side, missing its mark.
Huuuum...
As the blinding pillar of light faded, Bu Eun-seol stood there—grinning.
His skin shimmered with a faint glow, his irises now an entirely different color.
Like a living statue forged from the collision of ice and fire.
Transcendent Unity.
Ordinary unity blended two forces into one new power.
But in Bu Eun-seol and Baekri Geom-ha's case, they hadn't merely fused—they had birthed something entirely different. A third power.
"What did you just do?"
Pa-myeong's face twisted in incomprehension.
"The Fate-Sundering Halberd cannot be dodged or blocked."
He blinked repeatedly, unable to process it.
No matter how he looked, Bu Eun-seol's aura and temperament had transformed in an instant.
"Aha."
Finally understanding, he let out a raspy laugh.
"So you, too, were just a disposable pawn created to save Baekri Geom-ha?"
After laughing for a long moment, he pointed at Bu Eun-seol.
"All to protect the son of Baekri Mu-ha."
"What nonsense are you spouting?"
As Bu Eun-seol retorted, Pa-myeong curled his lips.
"I'm saying you're also a fake."
Then came the most shocking statement of all.
"The real one is under the Baekri Clan's protection."
In that instant, the words of the blind elder from the Sacred Realm—the one who oversaw the Covenant—flashed through Bu Eun-seol's mind.
—A fake is playing the role of the real one...
Back then, he had assumed it referred to Baek Mu-seong—the shadow who had acted in his stead.
But now, listening to Pa-myeong, it sounded as though someone else was fulfilling his role elsewhere.
The usual Bu Eun-seol might have been deeply shaken, scrambling to verify the truth of those words.
"It doesn't matter."
But the Bu Eun-seol who had achieved Transcendent Unity only grinned.
"I am simply me."
Zzziiing—!
At the same time, hundreds of luminous manifestations materialized behind him.
He had merely thought of unleashing the Fist Demon Seven Forms—yet hundreds of fist energies manifested around his body.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
With earth-shaking explosions that rocked heaven and earth—
Pa-myeong's body began hurtling backward uncontrollably.
Having achieved Transcendent Unity, the power of his Martial Arts had multiplied severalfold.
Even the force surrounding Pa-myeong's body—the power that defied fate itself—could no longer neutralize his attacks.