Chapter 1213
"That wound."
Bu Eun-seol urgently demanded:
"Who inflicted it?"
From the masked assailant sent by the Martial Alliance—one of the Eighteen Radiant Souls who had ambushed him when he was disguised as Seol-so, the Martial Soul Society Leader—to this point, he had found no further leads regarding the assailant.
Yet now, not only was the sword technique of that very assailant etched into this woman's arm, but the level of mastery was nearly identical?
This was an invaluable clue he absolutely could not overlook.
"Speak!"
When the woman remained silent, Bu Eun-seol roared.
"Who was it that severed your arm? Was it a master of the Eighteen Radiant Souls?"
"Kill me."
Her eyes held not a trace of hesitation.
The woman pressed her neck tightly against the edge of Bu Eun-seol's Ink Soul Sword, like a captured general who had resigned herself to death.
Even if it meant dying, she refused to utter a single word.
"I'm tired."
A cold, white light flickered in Bu Eun-seol's pupils.
"Of your obstinacy."
This woman was not merely unreasonable—she was brimming with arrogance and self-righteousness.
"There's no need for further conversation."
A sinister, chilling mist began to spread from his entire body.
Back then, he had even abandoned the realm of the Saint Among Poisons to break through the mental barrier of the masked assailant sent by the Martial Alliance and extract their memories.
Now, he intended to use that same method once more.
"Huuuuuung..."
Drawing upon the lingering poison energy within his body, Bu Eun-seol began injecting its essence into the woman's flesh.
Her spirit was already weakened—unlike before, he didn't need an overwhelming dose of poison.
'Poison truly is a force of nature.'
Just in case, he simultaneously activated the power of World and Realm Annihilation, but the poison's energy remained unaffected.
'Against a master of poison arts, I must not rely on the power of the Void Extreme Scripture.'
Poison existed naturally yet was the deadliest substance to the human body.
When the Void Extreme Scripture was unleashed, the most potent and dangerous force was none other than poison itself.
In the past, when martial arts were not yet highly developed,
dipping weapons or hidden blades in poison, or secretly administering lethal doses,
was considered the lowest and most despicable of methods.
Even those who possessed the greatest martial arts in the world
had to be extremely cautious of poison and prepare countermeasures in advance.
"Ugh... ugh..."
The woman's body stiffened violently, convulsing as white foam bubbled and spilled from the corners of her pale lips.
Thanks to the power of the Void Extreme Scripture,
he no longer needed to sacrifice poison essence to forcibly plunge his enemy into the state of a Poison Person—
even a small amount of poison was enough to utterly collapse both body and spirit.
As the poisoning took effect, her gaze gradually grew vacant. A temporary gap had formed in her mental defenses.
"Zzzziiing—"
Seizing the moment without hesitation, Bu Eun-seol unleashed Phantom Restoration.
'I must find it.'
The smooth, severed surface of the woman's arm bore an uncanny resemblance to the technique of the assassin who had killed his grandfather.
It had to be the work of someone from the Eighteen Radiant Souls.
Perhaps the killer of his grandfather—
or at least a critical clue related to them—lay within this woman's mind.
Considering her status as a combat operative of the Baekri Side Family... he might even uncover unexpected information.
"Zzzziiing—"
As Phantom Restoration activated, a sensation of reality twisting and distorting spread outward.
He had not formally learned Phantom Restoration from Ak Mu-ryeong—only fragments of practical techniques for erecting mental barriers or invading an enemy's psyche.
Thus, unlike Ak Mu-ryeong, he could not freely trample over or meticulously manipulate another's mind.
But when it came to shattering mental fortresses—
like a battering ram breaking through city gates—he was confident in his ability.
'Please, let there be useful information.'
This method had an inherent flaw.
Because it forcibly broke through the mind,
he couldn't sift through all of the target's memories—only fragments,
intense memories related to the caster.
"Crack—"
The moment a fine fissure appeared in the woman's mental barrier, Bu Eun-seol drove his consciousness into the gap like a blade.
"Flash—!"
In that instant, the world turned blindingly white before darkening as if submerged in black ink.
When he opened his eyes again, the surroundings had completely transformed.
A world of pure white unfolded before him—a sky made of shattered mirror fragments and a frost-covered earth.
Amid endless emptiness and silence—
"Grrrrr..."
A low growl echoed as a colossal presence slowly emerged.
A White Dragon, its form resembling a mountain range of pure snow.
Moonlight glimmered through its translucent scales,
while two frozen abyss-like eyes rolled and locked onto Bu Eun-seol.
This was no mere illusion—
it was the guardian of the woman's wounded psyche, the crystallization of all her rage and sorrow...
a second personality.
'So she's not from the Side Family.'
Only the main lineage of the Baekri Clan was known to possess individuals with split personalities.
Then this woman... was not from the Baekri Side Family, but the main house?
ROOOAR!
The moment the White Dragon saw Bu Eun-seol, it let out a roar and lunged at him with its jaws open.
It was the power of Emptiness—a force that erased the very existence of everything it touched.
Sssssssss—
The ground where its breath landed turned to dust and scattered into the wind.
Bu Eun-seol swiftly twisted his body away.
The earth where he had stood moments before vanished without a sound, transforming into a bottomless abyss—a gaping maw of endless darkness.
KOOOOOONG—!
Then, the dragon's tail lashed out.
The space around Bu Eun-seol crumpled like paper, warping violently.
PAK!
He narrowly avoided the strike by leaping into the air—
KWAANG!
—only for another tail to slam into him as if lying in wait.
Though the dragon had only one tail, this was the woman's Spirit and Mind. Here, the impossible did not exist.
KWAOOOONG—!
Sent flying like a cannonball hundreds of yards away, Bu Eun-seol coughed up a mouthful of dark blood.
By the time he forced himself back up, the white dragon—previously hundreds of yards distant—was already looming before him once more, gazing down.
CRRRRK—!
The earth itself crumpled like paper, transforming into hundreds of icy spears that shot toward him.
An unavoidable attack.
'This is her Spirit and Mind.'
Realizing this, Bu Eun-seol did not draw his sword. Instead, he hardened his consciousness.
A battle within the Spirit and Mind was a clash of existential will.
And no one was more experienced in such battles than Bu Eun-seol.
Had he not, until recently, fought for dominance over his own body against the personality of Baekri Geom-ha?
To manifest a distinct presence within the Spirit and Mind—for him, tempered by that struggle, it was effortless.
SHIIING—!
Bu Eun-seol did not dodge. He took the dragon's attack head-on.
Gathering the pure force of his will, he resisted the dragon's power.
CLANG! KOOOONG—!
The dragon relentlessly struck with breath and tail.
But Bu Eun-seol's unshakable spirit manifested a Protective Astral Energy as unyielding as diamond.
Each time the dragon's colossal strikes landed, only shockwaves—scattering like white powder—rippled outward.
KOOOO—!
Enraged, the dragon began to shift its form.
DRIP. DRIP.
Its massive body melted like liquid, reforming into thousands—no, tens of thousands—of enormous blades that rained down like hail.
ZING. ZING.
With every blade that touched him, Bu Eun-seol's body grew more transparent.
'It seeks to shatter my existence.'
These blades did not cut flesh—they shook the very core of being, cracking the Spirit and Mind with overwhelming force.
ZING. ZIIING—
With each strike, his body faded further, as if on the verge of dissolving into the sky.
Yet his expression remained fearless, his stance unwavering as he stared straight ahead.
His eyes did not see the storm of blades.
Instead, they saw the woman's true essence—a fragile candle flame flickering uneasily at the heart of this illusion.
'That white dragon is nothing but armor—shielding a wounded heart.'
Focusing his mind once more, Bu Eun-seol strode forward without hesitation into the storm of blades.
Though the slashing edges tore at his spirit and shattered his will,
he remained unshaken, advancing with the steady, immovable grace of a mountain.
Finally, reaching the eye of the storm, he found what lay hidden within—
a small, trembling figure.
A wounded girl, curled into herself, head bowed.
...
Bu Eun-seol reached out.
Not to strike.
But with a hand filled with pity—with compassion.
"Rest now."
As his hand neared the girl, a pure white light began to spread.
The rain of existence-rending blades ceased.
And from the girl's bowed form, light began to flow.
...
She lifted her head.
Eyes like bottomless lakes stared back—filled with endless sorrow.
FWOOOOOSH—
In an instant, her body dissolved into light, scattering in all directions.
From the ground to the distant, unreachable sky, it spread—slowly, inevitably.
ZING.
The girl was gone.
In her place stood a single, massive door.
'Why does this feel familiar?'
Though he was certain he had never seen it before,
its shape, its patterns—they tugged at his memory.
Was it the gate of the Saha Manor, where he had lived with his parents as a child?
Or perhaps the gates of the Demon Palace, where he had once walked hand-in-hand with his father?
If not those... then was it a door of the Baekri Clan?
He knew this door—yet the memory was clouded, as if veiled in mist.
As if entranced, Bu Eun-seol approached and grasped the handle.
The moment it opened—
floodgates of strange memories poured forth.
There was a girl.
Born into the true lineage of the Baekri Clan, she possessed not only extraordinary intellect and perception but also immense talent in ancient Arts of Spells.
"You must master martial arts, not spells."
Yet her father forced her to train in countless martial disciplines, like those of the orthodox sects.
No—not just martial arts.
He drilled her in the Hundred-Kill Secret Art, the Selfless Killing Method,
and other vicious assassination techniques—even extreme survival arts.
The girl, understanding nothing, trained relentlessly—
rain or snow, under her father's merciless tutelage.
By the time she realized, she had become a Master—
capable of facing the Baekri Clan's elites even without Manifestation Art Energy.
She had become a ruthless martial artist who could wield her body as a weapon like any professional assassin, capable of surviving any situation.
Then one day, misfortune arrived.
Just as she finished her training and was about to leave the cave in the Deep Mountain Secluded Valley, a dreamlike space unfolded before her—a mix of pitch-black darkness and a chilling blue glow under the moonlight.
At its center stood a shadow so dark it seemed to swallow all the light in the world.
Clothing draped over its form like living shadows, while streams of icy blue internal energy, as if infused with the cold moonlight, rippled ceaselessly.
Shrouded in deep darkness, it was impossible to discern whether the figure was male or female, young or old.
Only the eerie halo seeping from the darkness made her instinctively realize that the killing intent it harbored was nearly infinite.
[Even the smallest spark...]
The shadow's voice resonated directly in her mind like Wisdom-Light Mind Speech.
[...can eventually become a great calamity.]
The moment those words ended, what unfolded before the girl's eyes was a transcendent yet vicious Demonic Sword Art—something she had never imagined, something no amount of training could ever allow her to reach.
Thud.
At the same time, her left wrist fell to the ground.
But there was no time to be shocked.
Because the transformed Sword Stroke had already pierced her forehead.
Sshhk.
As the strange slicing sound echoed and the razor-sharp blade burrowed into her flesh like a serpent's tongue—
KRRRUMBLE!
A bolt of white lightning split the sky, and a massive white dragon descended from the heavens.
When she regained consciousness, she saw her father, drenched in blood.
The black shadow had vanished.
But the vast Manifestation Art Energy that had once made her father one of the Baekri Clan's most formidable figures was now completely gone.
"The time has come."
Her father spoke words she couldn't comprehend.
"Hold out your left arm."
The girl asked nothing.
She simply extended her left arm, severed at the wrist.
That was how she had been trained.
Thud.
Her left arm was severed again, this time below the elbow.
The girl watched numbly as her own arm fell away.
Snap.
Her father swiftly sealed the acupoints to stop the bleeding.
Then, as if he had anticipated this very situation, he carefully treated the wound with pre-prepared medicine and bandages.
Once the wound had perfectly healed, her father retrieved a large iron case.
Inside lay an exquisitely crafted prosthetic arm, as if woven from human nerves themselves.
"Extend your arm."
When she did—
Click.
The cold metal arm attached itself to her forearm as if it had always belonged there.
"This prosthetic contains the key to the Secret Vault hidden by the main family."
Her father continued with shocking words.
"The only reason we can create such a sophisticated prosthetic, indistinguishable from a real arm... is thanks to the True Demon's knowledge slumbering within the vault."
When the girl remained silent, her father's expression turned graver than ever.
"You must protect this key until the day this prosthetic falls off. Understood?"
As she nodded, her father reached out—and smiled faintly.
"Ja-ha."
Then, with a warmth she had never known, he gently stroked her head.
"Please... survive, no matter what."
It was the first time.
The first time she had ever seen her father's tender smile, felt his warm touch.
The girl—Baekri Ja-ha—felt warmth.
She wished only for this happiness to last.
For her father's wounds and Manifestation Art Energy to recover swiftly.
—He betrayed the main family and pledged himself to the True Demon Palace!
But her hopes were shattered.
Her father had been brutally executed for betraying the clan.
The laws of the Baekri Clan were merciless.
If a parent was a criminal, so too was their descendant.
Hadn't even the descendants of the Baekri Clan who became Saints been relegated to the Baekri Side Family, tasked with handling the affairs of the Martial World, all because their parents had become Servants of the True Demon?
In the end, she too was sent to the Baekri Side Family.
Recognizing her exceptional martial prowess, its leaders raised her as an assassin—tasked with eliminating the White Annihilation Warriors, the True Demon Palace's elite combatants who threatened the Side Family across the Martial World.
No one knew her prosthetic contained the key to one of the Baekri Clan's Secret Vaults.
Against her will.
Under the pretense of atoning for her father's sins.
She became a bloodstained warrior of the Baekri Side Family.
In battle, her left arm suffered fatal wounds time and again.
But thanks to the sturdy, meticulously crafted prosthetic, none of those injuries proved deadly.
No matter the crisis.
No matter the unforeseen circumstances.
She always emerged victorious.
She always survived.
Flicker.
The light faded, and Bu Eun-seol emerged from the woman's—Baekri Ja-ha's—Spirit and Mind.
The cold air of reality brushed his cheek.
Before him lay the unconscious woman, her breath ragged.
Baekri Ja-ha.
A delicate name, fitting for her slender frame.
Had she not been forged since childhood in martial arts and venomous discipline—
Perhaps she would have grown up as refined and elegant as Baekri Ye-ha, her betrothed.
But her father had subjected Baekri Ja-ha to the most brutal training from the start.
He had even known her arm would be severed.
And had prepared a prosthetic, crafted from the True Demon's knowledge, in advance.
Like Wooden Buddha foreseeing the future.
But that wasn't the important part.
"Found you."
A killing intent so absolute it could evaporate the air for dozens of yards around.
A presence that dominated space by mere existence, an overwhelming martial force that constricted the opponent's heart with just a glance.
A shadow of death, black as pitch, concealed within a dazzling blue radiance.
At last, he had confirmed the appearance of the murderer who had killed his grandfather.
The silhouette visible in the darkness.
Even just glimpsing that ghostly form, he could instinctively sense that this being had reached the same majesty and absolute martial prowess as the King of Hell.
"Somehow... familiar."
Though he couldn't make out the face.
The vague contours of the shadowed figure, the indistinct outline of its physique—it felt like he had seen it somewhere before.
"Could it be... someone I know killed Grandfather?"
Impossible.
Among everyone he knew, there was no one with the same silhouette or build as that shadowed figure.
Nor had any of them attained such martial heights.
"But... I can find them."
The silhouette in the darkness was undoubtedly a form shaped by sheer presence.
If he were to see the true figure hidden within that brilliance? He would recognize the murderer instantly.
"One thing is certain—the Baekri Clan is far from normal."
No matter what grand purpose they had—whether preparing for the future, protecting the clan, or some other sacred cause—
To raise their own daughter as an assassin without telling her anything?
To commit such madness?
The Baekri Clan was indeed not normal.
And she, too, was nothing more than a victim swept up by fate.
Bu Eun-seol looked down at the fallen Baekri Ja-ha.
Right now, he could end everything by severing her neck—but he could no longer bring himself to do it.
A girl whose emotions had been carved out by a cruel fate, swinging her blade like a madwoman.
A pitiful child already broken beyond repair... How could he kill her?
Clack.
In the end, he quietly sheathed his sword.
The fury that had once surged within him had melted away, leaving behind only a cold kinship and deep pity.
"...Why won't you kill me?"
She had already regained consciousness.
But knowing resistance was futile, she had simply been waiting quietly for death.
"That stubbornness, that arrogance... the way you refused to listen and clung to killing me with such desperation... I understand it now."
Baekri Ja-ha said nothing, closing her eyes.
"Take it."
"......"
"You already know."
Thanks to the White Dragon within her spirit—her split personality—she had not only survived despite having her memories stolen,
But she had also sensed Bu Eun-seol probing her memories and understood that he wanted the prosthetic arm.
After all, it was the key—the treasure that could open the Baekri Clan's Secret Vault.
"You must guard this key until the day this arm falls off—do you understand?"
She had been faithfully obeying her father's words all this time.
"I don't need it."
Bu Eun-seol spoke calmly.
"If I take it, your hand will be lost."
He continued in the same measured tone.
"More than anything... you would lose the last memento your father left you."
Her gaze wavered.
She realized that the look in Bu Eun-seol's eyes was not shallow pity—but kinship.
"...Why?"
"Because it's all you have left."
If he took that prosthetic arm from her?
She would lose the only keepsake her father had left behind.
No—she would lose everything.
Because Bu Eun-seol had already experienced having such things taken from him.
The great saber—his grandfather's legacy—and even his corpse.
Realizing the deep sorrow in Bu Eun-seol's eyes, she
"...I'm sorry."
Lowered her head and whispered hoarsely.
"...I apologize."
She had known all along.
That Bu Eun-seol was not one of the True Demon Palace's masters.
Under the name of duty,
She had mechanically repeated battle after battle, desperately craving death in the midst of it all.
But the moment she realized Bu Eun-seol had the power to kill her, she had stubbornly lunged at him, no matter what he said.
Clatter.
Just then, an exquisitely crafted metal fragment fell from the broken joint of her detached prosthetic arm.
The impact and vibrations from the earlier Bloody Tears Seven Forms had damaged the connection.
Though she had barely glanced at it, the focus in her eyes vanished.
Even when the Ink Soul Sword had gouged her muscles and exposed bone, she hadn't shown pain.
But now, she looked as though her very soul had been severed.
"...It can't be fixed."
The woman muttered with a hollow expression.
"There's only one of these."
That priceless artifact, infused with the True Demon's Knowledge—
Without someone who possessed that same knowledge, it could neither be replicated nor repaired.
More than anything... it was the only keepsake bearing her father's touch.
"No more..."
Thud.
The murmuring woman soon lost consciousness.
Poisoned, afflicted by Phantom Restoration, her spirit cracked—forced to share memories.
It was like cramming another person into a single body.
Having lived with deep wounds in both heart and flesh all this time,
The moment her father's keepsake was ruined, she finally let go of all awareness.
"Hey—!"
Startled, Bu Eun-seol channeled Reverse Polarity True Qi into her.
But there was no response—as if her consciousness itself had vanished into the abyss.
Just like Baekri Geom-ha had.
"...She's lost the will to live."
Bu Eun-seol let out a deep sigh.
He couldn't just leave Baekri Ja-ha like this.
"Perhaps... reattaching the prosthetic will wake her?"
She might have believed her very essence resided in that arm.
The only thing her father had ever given her—her everything.
"Between Master Blacksmith Wang Geol and the Demon Swordsmith..."
Master Blacksmith Wang Geol possessed metallurgy skills nearing divine levels,
And the Demon Swordsmith not only had the ability to forge Divine Swords and Treasured Sabers, but could also restore legendary ancient weapons.
If these two joined forces—
They might not be able to recreate such a prosthetic... but perhaps they could reattach it to her body.
"Let's go."
Bu Eun-seol found himself recalling a rare moment of nostalgic scenery.
"To Langya Pavilion."