Chapter 1214
Bu Eun-seol carefully gathered the scattered fragments that had fallen from the prosthetic arm and fixed his gaze on the unconscious woman.
His eyes could instantly pierce through the flaws of any martial art scattered across the realm.
They could even unleash the Mind Spirit Secret Arts, capable of ruthlessly shattering an enemy's psyche.
Yet, at times, they also brimmed with pity and compassion.
The same hands that could cut down terrifyingly powerful foes—
paradoxically, were the first to still before a life withering away in helplessness.
Just like Bu Jan-yang in the past.
Bu Eun-seol, too.
To the wicked, he became a blood-summoning asura, but to the suffering masses, he extended the merciful hand of a buddha.
Originally, Langya Pavilion had no disciples who specialized in medical arts.
Because they injured themselves so frequently during training, they had become better at treating wounds than most physicians.
When injured, they would go to the White Herb Hall, where medicinal herbs were managed, and treat themselves.
Only the most severe wounds—those too difficult to handle alone—were meticulously treated by the master of the White Herb Hall, who excelled in medical arts.
But as Langya Pavilion grew in stature, rising to the position of the First Demonic Gate, prodigies from across the Central Plains flooded in like a tidal wave.
The need for a dedicated facility to treat disciples and research medical techniques became apparent.
"Now that our disciples have specialties, we should research not just martial arts, but a variety of other skills as well."
Baek Yeon, unable to ignore the issue any longer, made the suggestion to Dan Cheong.
"Our pavilion is now filled with prodigies excelling in all kinds of fields, isn't it?"
Dan Cheong agreed.
"With the Pavilion Lord absent, we have no choice but to handle this ourselves."
The two summoned Sa-u, the recently returned master of the Secret Hall, and So-jeon, leader of the Innovation Unit, and put their heads together.
They began reorganizing Langya Pavilion's structure.
The Calligraphy Hall, where the Brush and Ink Technique was studied.
The Painting Pavilion, where battle formations and artwork were researched.
The Forge Workshop, dedicated to weapon crafting, metalwork, and alchemy.
And the Arithmetic Pavilion, where mathematics, astronomy, calendrical systems, and logistical calculations were studied.
Finally, the last addition—
A facility solely dedicated to the study and practice of medical arts... the Healing Hall.
Creak.
Bu Eun-seol headed toward the Separate Garden within the Healing Hall.
It housed private chambers where Langya Pavilion's elite could receive treatment or recuperate.
Opening the door at the farthest corner,
he found Baekri Ja-ha deeply asleep on a pristine bed.
Even after half a month had passed, she had yet to regain consciousness, remaining in a comatose state.
"......"
Silently, Bu Eun-seol studied her sleeping face intently.
Her peaceful, slumbering expression was as pure and unblemished as a newborn's—
It was hard to imagine that this was the same master of the Baekri Side Family who had cut down White Annihilation warriors with the ferocity of a demonic executioner, prepared to die.
Clank.
Just then, the door opened, and two elderly men entered shoulder-to-shoulder—
one with neatly combed, snow-white hair,
and the other, a burly, rough-faced old man.
The Demon Swordsmith and Master Blacksmith Wang Geol.
"You've arrived."
Bu Eun-seol bowed respectfully, and both Wang Geol and the Demon Swordsmith nodded in acknowledgment.
"That prosthetic arm..."
Wang Geol sighed as he gazed at the sleeping Baekri Ja-ha.
"It was truly crafted with divine skill."
At Bu Eun-seol's request, the two had spent ten days researching the prosthetic arm without a single day of rest.
They had heard everything from Bu Eun-seol about the truth of the Baekri Clan and the True Demon's knowledge,
and they couldn't help but marvel at the astonishing craftsmanship of this divine artifact.
Yet no matter how much they investigated,
they couldn't begin to fathom how such a prosthetic had been made—or how it functioned.
"After ten days, all we've managed is a glimpse inside... It'll take at least another month just to identify where the damage is."
The prosthetic arm Baekri Ja-ha wore
was a product of divine craftsmanship, made with techniques that should not exist in the current martial world.
"Is there no way to repair even the damaged connection points?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question,
"I can't guarantee it,"
the Demon Swordsmith shook his head before continuing,
"But fortunately, I've handled a few weapons with similar structures... It might be possible."
"There are weapons with structures similar to a prosthetic arm?"
"The Blue Demon Claw and Blood Heaven Twin Arms are known as demon weapons steeped in poison... But in truth, they were originally sophisticated prosthetics crafted in ancient times, later modified by martial artists with hidden mechanisms and toxins."
Bu Eun-seol was somewhat surprised.
The infamous Blue Demon Claw and Blood Heaven Twin Arms were prosthetics?
"If the structure is indeed similar... then we should at least be able to repair the connection points."
Though the answer was somewhat vague, Bu Eun-seol's expression brightened.
If the prosthetic could be reattached,
there was hope that Baekri Ja-ha might regain consciousness.
"Ah, right. And also—"
Wang Geol then pulled out a small wooden box from his robes.
"The key said to be inside the prosthetic... It likely refers to this."
Click.
When he opened the box, inside lay a smooth, square metal fragment gleaming with a silvery luster.
"This is the key?"
It was small enough to fit within the circle formed by pressing one's thumb and forefinger together, and it bore no noticeable weight.
"Yes."
Wang Geol then retrieved a small metal tower from his robes.
It was a treasure called the Astronomical Golden Tower, crafted for observing constellations.
Inside, countless gears and beads rotated to calculate the constellations.
Unfortunately, it had been severely damaged, split cleanly in half, and Wang Geol had coincidentally obtained and kept one of the halves.
"Watch closely."
Wang Geol pressed the square metal piece against the broken half of the Celestial Gold Tower, its intricate mechanisms exposed.
Krrrrrk—
A strange metallic sound resonated in succession, and bizarre patterns gradually surfaced on the square metal fragment.
The patterns writhed as if alive,
Clack, clack—
The entire metal piece transformed as though hundreds of tiny interlocking parts were shifting,
until it perfectly replicated the broken rear section of the Celestial Gold Tower.
'This is...'
Bu Eun-seol stared in astonishment.
'The True Demon's knowledge.'
No—it wouldn't be an exaggeration to call it divine knowledge.
Wang Geol, who had been studying Bu Eun-seol's wide-eyed shock, let out a sigh.
"No matter how complex the form, it replicates it exactly. Seeing how freely it transforms... it must function as a key that precisely fits into a specific structure."
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
If such a freely transforming metal existed, it would serve as the most perfect key imaginable.
Then, the Demon Swordsmith spoke up.
"This prosthetic arm was designed to conceal the key without detection. Even when embedded inside, its form never changed."
"Then—"
A thought struck Bu Eun-seol, and his expression turned grave.
"Is it possible that without this metal piece, the prosthetic arm won't function?"
"What does it matter? She can just wear another one."
"But a prosthetic arm that intricate and flawless... wouldn't be easy to replace, would it?"
The Demon Swordsmith made a strange face.
"You're not seriously suggesting giving up the key to the secret vault for that reason, are you?"
"A woman's life is at stake—how could I prioritize my own greed?"
He was more concerned about Baekri Ja-ha losing the use of her arm
than obtaining the key to the Baekri Clan's secret vault.
"Keheheheh."
Hearing this, Master Cheol suddenly burst into bright laughter and nudged the Demon Swordsmith's shoulder.
"See? I told you. Hand it over."
Crossing his arms, he declared confidently:
"I told you this kid wasn't worried about the Baekri Clan's vault or whatever—he was fretting over that poor girl being unable to use her arm!"
"Tch."
The Demon Swordsmith made a disgruntled face,
then reluctantly pulled out a large silver ingot worth about forty taels and handed it to Master Cheol.
"There was a separate compartment inside the prosthetic arm for storing it."
Clicking his tongue like he'd swallowed something bitter, the Demon Swordsmith continued:
"Even if you remove it, it won't affect its function."
"That's a relief."
As Bu Eun-seol's face brightened, the Demon Swordsmith grinned at Baekri Ja-ha.
"Your lover fussing over you like this... If that girl woke up and heard what you said, she'd surely be overjoyed."
"...What?"
The Demon Swordsmith had mistaken the unconscious Baekri Ja-ha for Bu Eun-seol's lover.
No—he was certain of it.
—That girl will become the Lord's spouse one day.
When he first saw Baekri Ja-ha, the Demon Swordsmith had cackled and said to Master Cheol:
—After all those scandals, he's finally settling down, eh?
—What nonsense are you spouting?
Master Cheol had laughed in disbelief.
—Don't you know he already has a fiancée?
—Hohoho. You must not know I was once a famed physiognomist.
The Demon Swordsmith spoke with conviction.
—These two will marry.
—Rambling like a sleep-talker. How could you possibly know?
—It's written all over their faces, isn't it?
After bickering, the two had placed a hefty bet of forty taels—
and when Bu Eun-seol was willing to abandon the Baekri Clan's key,
no, to give up entering the Baekri Clan's secret vault just to protect Baekri Ja-ha's prosthetic arm,
they became utterly convinced she was his lover.
"N-No, that's not—"
Just as Bu Eun-seol raised his hands to refute Master Cheol and the Demon Swordsmith's misunderstanding—
Knock, knock.
Along with the sound of rapping on the door,
a middle-aged man with a face as rugged as Wang Geol's and a frame as broad as two grown men combined stepped inside.
Originally a master physician who specialized in treating injured disciples—the White Grass Hall Master—
he was now Cho Mu-ryang, the head of the Healing Hall.
"Hall Master."
Bu Eun-seol bowed respectfully.
Though he had never visited the White Grass Hall himself—he had always treated his training injuries himself—
he deeply respected Cho Mu-ryang, who tirelessly treated wounded disciples.
"My Lord."
Despite his rough appearance, Cho Mu-ryang was quite refined and paid proper deference even to Bu Eun-seol, the future leader of Langya Pavilion.
However, since his official status was still the Heir of the Demon Hall, he addressed him as Lord.
"Master Cheol, Elder Swordsmith."
Cho Mu-ryang then bowed to the two elders.
Thud.
At that moment, Wang Geol tossed the square metal piece—the key to the vault—over and waved his hand.
"We'll take our leave, then. Contact us once the prosthetic is repaired."
Judging by their expressions, they seemed eager to go drink away their bet winnings.
Click.
As the two strode out without another word,
"My apologies, Lord."
Cho Mu-ryang bowed his head to Bu Eun-seol.
"Despite trying every treatment method... there's been no significant improvement yet."
Even after exhausting all remedies, including spirit medicines, Baekri Ja-ha still showed no signs of waking.
"Not at all."
Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
"Perhaps it is my fault."
Guilt weighed on him.
It was possible that her spirit had been completely shattered because he had peered into it using Phantom Restoration.
"Though we cannot entirely dismiss the influence of the Mind-Seizing Art..."
Cho Mu-ryang, who had heard everything—from the moment Bu Eun-seol met her to his use of Phantom Restoration—spoke for the sake of treatment.
"That could not possibly be the sole cause."
His voice was low but firm.
"Moreover, had it not been for you, Lord, she would have been executed outright as an assassin. You need not carry this guilt."
Then, with confidence, he added,
"With proper recuperation here in the pavilion, she will recover swiftly."
Bu Eun-seol forced a faint smile at his warm reassurance.
"Then, I leave her in your care."
As Bu Eun-seol bowed, Cho Mu-ryang respectfully clasped his hands together.
"I will do my utmost."
Leaving the Healing Hall, Bu Eun-seol climbed a high hill overlooking Langya Pavilion.
Thanks to the Demon Swordsmith and Master Cheol,
he had obtained the key to the Baekri Clan's Secret Vault from Baekri Ja-ha, yet his heart remained uneasy.
'At the very least, the energy flowing from her body has been sealed.'
Those of the Baekri Clan who carried the Manifestation Art Energy naturally exuded a mysterious aura.
Baekri Ja-ha had been no exception—
but after losing consciousness, even that power had vanished entirely.
'Langya Pavilion, alongside the Fleeting Moment Boat, is the safest place in the martial world.'
Originally, Bu Eun-seol had braced himself for a potential clash with the Baekri Clan or the Baekri Side Family when bringing her here.
But with her energy completely gone, such a confrontation would not occur.
'Not that I would mind if it did.'
The Baekri Clan was still shrouded in mystery.
If they came searching for Baekri Ja-ha within Langya Pavilion—
it would be a perfect opportunity to unravel another enigma.
—Grasp the void and substance with your senses before relying on sight!
A thunderous shout reverberated through Langya Pavilion, shaking the training grounds.
—Who told you to swing your sword like a wild boar, relying on brute strength alone?!
Turning his gaze, Bu Eun-seol saw a bare-chested, powerfully built middle-aged man sternly reprimanding newly initiated disciples.
It was Sa-u, the master of the Hidden Arts Hall, who researched Langya Pavilion's secret techniques.
'He has recovered well.'
Once, he had been reduced to a puppet of Pa-myeong, a Servant of the True Demon, stripped of his own will—
but with the help of Bu Eun-seol and Ak Mu-ryeong, he had finally shattered those chains of karma.
Now, he had returned to Langya Pavilion to guide its disciples once more.
'With Master Sa here, the pavilion will flourish even further.'
A faint smile touched his lips.
Had it not been for Sa-u, Bu Eun-seol would not be standing here today.
The master-disciple bond first forged on Hell Island... had irrevocably altered both their fates.
"What has you so lost in thought?"
A deep voice sounded from behind.
Turning, Bu Eun-seol saw a middle-aged man with long hair fluttering in the breeze, exuding an elegant aura like a lone winter plum blossom.
Beneath his long, drooping eyebrows, clear and profound eyes held a tranquil depth,
and even the wrinkles etched by time seemed to enhance his dignified grace.
It was Baek Yeon, the leader of the Wind Cloud Brigade, who oversaw Langya Pavilion's intelligence operations.
"Great Leader!"
Bu Eun-seol hurried forward and bowed eagerly.
"Have you been well all this time?"
At the sight of Bu Eun-seol, still boyish in demeanor,
a subtle warmth, like spring blossoms swaying in the wind, softened Baek Yeon's thin lips.
"It has been a while."
Though his jade-like complexion remained, wrinkles now marked Baek Yeon's face, and his temples had turned faintly silver.
Truthfully, the reason he had aged so noticeably in just a few years
was the immense burden of managing Langya Pavilion's vastly expanded intelligence network, handling countless affairs single-handedly.
The seamless operation of the Death Soul Squad's intelligence system,
as well as the intricate web of informants spread across the Central Plains—
including those tied to the Fleeting Moment Boat and Heaven-Severing, Earth-Destroying—
was all meticulously overseen by Baek Yeon'sWind Cloud Brigade.
Because of this, he had no choice but to roam the Central Plains, rarely able to stay in Langya Pavilion.
"Have you been well?"
As if aware of Bu Eun-seol's hardships, Baek Yeon gently patted his shoulder.
"You've endured much."
Bu Eun-seol felt warmth in his chest.
Though he only returned briefly when duty called, Langya Pavilion was still his home.
"On my way back to the pavilion, I heard you were here and came straight to you."
With a smile, Baek Yeon handed him a letter.
"Take it. It's from the leader of the Azure Heaven Alliance."
Bu Eun-seol's expression shifted in surprise.
Bukgung Ryeong was the alliance leader of the Azure Heaven Alliance.
For the head of such a coalition to send a personal letter was rare.
"It's likely nothing urgent. It wasn't sent through emergency channels—just securely routed through the Fleeting Moment Boat for safe delivery."
"Thank you."
As Bu Eun-seol accepted the letter, Baek Yeon spoke again.
"Why not rest for a while now?"
"Huh?"
"You've been handling everything alone for so long."
Baek Yeon continued,
"Tell me—how many days have you truly rested since stepping into the martial world?"
Since becoming the Ten Demonic Heir,
the number of days Bu Eun-seol had rested for himself could be counted on one hand.
Baek Yeon, who had been coordinating all intelligence operations—including the Death Soul Squad—
had been silently watching over him all this time.
By managing the intelligence network in Bu Eun-seol's stead, Baek Yeon had come to learn many of the Murim's secrets.
And because of that, he had also come to know—too well—the countless unspoken hardships Bu Eun-seol had endured.
The fact that he was now utterly exhausted.
"Understood."
Bu Eun-seol, sensing the genuine concern, bowed deeply in gratitude.
"Since I'm already at the pavilion, I'll rest here a while before leaving."
"Good."
Baek Yeon smiled faintly before turning away slowly.
Watching his retreating figure, Bu Eun-seol let out a heavy sigh.
"Even the Commander must be exhausted."
He could tell.
Only those who are weary recognize weariness in others.
Baek Yeon, too, had returned to Langya Pavilion because he was spent.
"A time for rest is needed."
Only now did he realize just how drained everyone around him—himself included—truly was.
Through the Wind Cloud Brigade, Bu Eun-seol had already arranged for the Death Soul Squad to take their own respite.
But when he unfolded the letter tucked in his robe, he found an unexpected summons:
―Come to the Azure Heaven Alliance.
In that instant, Bu Eun-seol knew he would not be resting at Langya Pavilion after all.
Bukgung Ryeong, now the leader of the united factions, had become a man who weighed every word with great deliberation.
A letter sent through intelligence channels meant he had agonized over what to say—repeatedly.
For him to request a visit without explanation...
"Something's happened."
Bu Eun-seol's expression darkened.
Whatever it was, it must be grave.
Slowly, he turned away.
Rest at Langya Pavilion would have to wait. His path now led straight to the Azure Heaven Alliance.
Azure Heaven Alliance.
Established at the borders of Sichuan, this orthodox coalition had its roots in the "Sichuan Alliance" Bu Eun-seol had once envisioned.
But after the Martial Venerable—a man who had once shared secrets with him—revealed his corruption, and the Martial Alliance itself succumbed to rot, Bu Eun-seol made a new resolution.
To create a new orthodox alliance where the righteous could stand firm without fear.
And this grand vision became reality only because of one man: Bukgung Ryeong, a renowned hero of the orthodox world.
Bu Eun-seol's original plan had been to unite Sichuan's factions, but once Bukgung Ryeong ascended as alliance leader, something unexpected happened.
Young warriors from the Martial Alliance, inspired by him, flocked to the Azure Heaven Alliance in droves.
With the backing of countless orthodox sects, the alliance took root—strong and unshakable.
Azure Heaven Pavilion.
The residence of Alliance Leader Bukgung Ryeong exuded refined restraint rather than opulence.
An aged plum blossom screen adorned the wall, while a bronze censer released the subtle fragrance of white sandalwood, filling the air with clarity.
On the black-lacquered desk, brushes and bamboo scrolls were neatly arranged, and sunlight streaming through the window cast silver hues upon the jade-inlaid floor patterns.
At its center sat an elderly man in dignified martial robes.
His snow-white hair bore the marks of time, yet beneath his stern brow, his piercing gaze remained as sharp as ever.
Though he seemed slightly older than before, his presence had only deepened in dignity and resolve.
The once-peerless renowned hero now carried the authority of a leader upholding the Azure Heaven Alliance.
"It's been a while."
As Bu Eun-seol—disguised as Seon-u Jin—entered, Bukgung Ryeong rose to greet him warmly.
"How did you know?"
Bu Eun-seol was stunned.
The Darkness Secret Arts should have been imperceptible, even to the greatest masters.
How had he seen through it so easily?
'Does prolonged exposure reveal flaws?'
"Hahaha. No need for such a grave expression."
Reading his thoughts, Bukgung Ryeong chuckled.
"The real Commander Seon-u doesn't stride into the Azure Heaven Pavilion with shoulders squared and head held high. Nor does he meet my eyes so directly."
Bu Eun-seol let out a dry laugh.
Had he thought calmly, he might have realized—but for a moment, he had feared a fatal flaw in the secret arts.
"You're more exhausted than I thought."
Bukgung Ryeong clicked his tongue.
"To think the Martial Soul Lord himself would waver at my words."
Bu Eun-seol snorted.
"I've grown too comfortable around you, old man. Forgot to keep my guard up."
"Since when am I an 'old man' to you? Call me Alliance Leader now."
"Did you summon me just for this?"
Bukgung Ryeong grinned, baring his teeth.
"Since you're here, were you hoping to see that flower-like strategist? Already itching to dash off to the Strategy Pavilion after a mere greeting?"
"What nonsense. Don't slander me."
When Bu Eun-seol huffed, Bukgung Ryeong roared with laughter.
"You deny it?"
"I do."
"Fine. Then stay with me this once."
"What's going on?"
Though nearly fifty years separated them, they were as close as sworn brothers.
And Bu Eun-seol sensed something amiss in Bukgung Ryeong's eyes.
"What's going on? I just want a drinking companion for once."
True, as alliance leader, Bukgung Ryeong radiated formidable martial prowess.
But looking closely now...
He seemed burdened—weary and troubled.
"Very well."
Bu Eun-seol didn't press further.
He hadn't even had time for tea, let alone wine, but...
"Let's drink until our noses go crooked."
Unbeknownst to him,
this meeting would confirm the flow of events he had long foreseen—
and set into motion one of the grand designs he had laid years ago.
Yet unaware, he flashed a bright smile, baring white teeth like an old friend reunited.