Chapter 1260
'Bu Eun-seol.'
At first glance, one might mistake him for a peerless beauty disguising herself as a man—so striking was his appearance.
Though his features were too beautiful, too bewitching for a man.
Behind that breathtakingly handsome face lay a true nature one could scarcely dare to imagine.
His inner self was as unyielding as tempered steel, refusing to bend even before the Demonic Heavenly Emperor, hailed as the foremost of this era.
Unshackled by any authority or rule of this world, he was as free as the clouds and untamed as the wind.
But what was most astonishing of all—
Despite his ordinary physique, his attainment in the True Martial Scripture surpassed even those prodigies born with heavenly gifts.
He studied martial arts even while eating, even as he lay down to sleep.
If he didn't understand, he wouldn't stop until he did.
If it wasn't ingrained in his body, he wouldn't rest until it was carved into his bones.
Through that relentless, tenacious training and effort, he surpassed even the natural-born prodigies—
And reached a realm once deemed impossible.
"I..."
Recalling Bu Eun-seol's crimson eyes, burning with an obsession and yearning for the Martial Way so intense it felt almost mystical—
He shook his head bitterly and continued.
"Cannot claim to be living in the same era as him."
Gyo Jung-hak, having discerned Seok U-haeng's inner thoughts, clicked his tongue.
"You're staring at a 'sky' you can never reach. Who told you to climb that high?"
"If you don't aim high, you won't rise high."
"That only works when the thing you're climbing is a 'tree.' Do you not understand what this old man means by 'sky'?"
Gyo Jung-hak clicked his tongue again.
"The Martial Soul Lord is the only one in this sacred land of ten thousand demons who can stand against—no, confront—the foremost figure of this era, whom none dare oppose or resist."
Then he sighed deeply.
"And you want to stand beside him?"
"He has an ordinary physique!"
Seok U-haeng spat out the suffocating frustration clogging his chest.
"Yet he trained like a madman, driven by a berserk Martial Soul, and survived Hell Island in the end. I saw it with my own two eyes, clear as day...!"
He looked down at his own hands.
"I, too, pursued the Martial Way at the cost of my life. But in the end, this is all I have to show for it."
"To be honest, the Lord—"
"I know. That he was raised by the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade."
Seok U-haeng clenched his fists.
"Even if he were the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's grandson, it wouldn't change a thing. I, too, studied martial arts while eating, pondered martial techniques even in my sleep. So why is it taken for granted that I can't even touch the soles of his feet?"
Gyo Jung-hak sighed.
Seok U-haeng possessed an outstanding physique, and his obsession with the Martial Way was extraordinary.
For someone like him to be unable to even reach the feet of Bu Eun-seol—who survived through sheer effort despite his ordinary physique—
It must have been an unbearable humiliation.
"It's the difference in blossoming."
"Blossoming?"
"Yes. You have yet to bloom."
Gyo Jung-hak continued.
"In contrast, the Lord has ceaselessly forced his own talent to blossom. Because he carries a vengeance cold enough to freeze the heavens."
"So if I just nurture vengeance, I'll reach his level?"
Gyo Jung-hak fell silent.
Natural talent, extraordinary ability, profound emotions, a heroic temperament that prioritized others, and a spirit that looked down upon the world beyond mere arrogance—
If he tried to list all the qualities Bu Eun-seol had that Seok U-haeng lacked, even three nights of fervent explanation wouldn't be enough.
"In short... very few can drive themselves to blossom like that."
When Gyo Jung-hak gave a vague answer, Seok U-haeng spoke irritably.
"Then what should I do?"
"The answer lies in the Death Shadow War Unit's Great Lords."
"The Death Shadow War Unit's Great Lords? You mean those strays who became his dogs—Myo Cheon-u and Yu Un-ryong?"
"Strays?"
Gyo Jung-hak's voice turned sharp.
"Frankly, you're worse off than any of the Lord's subordinates. Because you've achieved nothing on your own."
Seok U-haeng clenched his fists but couldn't refute it.
It was an undeniable truth.
The only thing he had accomplished on his own was the title of Ten Demonic Heir.
He had destroyed himself trying to surpass the wall that was Bu Eun-seol.
Even his current presence in the Demon Hall was only because his life had been saved by Bu Eun-seol's hand.
"You call his physique ordinary, but to my eyes, he seems more like a Divine Being."
In the end, Gyo Jung-hak brought up Bu Eun-seol's heroic qualities—ones Seok U-haeng lacked.
"Even with that brutal vengeance before him, he prioritized the people around him first. Even in the face of his deepest desires, he saved others before himself."
In the past, instead of chasing after the Namgung Family's elder, who held clues to the assassin—
Bu Eun-seol had heard Namgung Un's cries and saved the dying Namgung Jeong.
Though Gyo Jung-hak was a figure of the Demon Hall—
Having worked alongside Bu Eun-seol on numerous occasions, he knew his deeds well, almost like one of the Death Shadow War Unit's own.
"If you don't want to drift aimlessly like duckweed for the rest of your life, then learn from the people standing beside that hero. Learn how they live."
Gyo Jung-hak spoke solemnly.
"Even if you never pick up a sword again and end up washing dishes... at least you'll find a place where you truly belong."
Then he slowly descended the hill.
Seok U-haeng, who had been staring at his retreating figure for a long while, finally gritted his teeth and lowered his head to the ground.
"Bu Eun-seol, Bu Eun-seol...!"
He had seen enough of him on Hell Island to be sick of it.
The way he captivated everyone.
How those who stayed by his side were inevitably drawn to him—or naturally submitted.
"Damn it, so I'm supposed to bow to him too?"
He shouted toward the sky, but no answer came.
In the end, it was only when night fell and dawn approached that he weakly returned to his quarters.
—The Shadow Team Leader has returned.
The martial artists of the Hidden Demon Pavilion whispered among themselves.
The leader of the Shadow Team—the one who handled only the most covert and dangerous missions by the Martial Soul Lord's side.
Always shrouded in mist, rarely revealing himself.
Seo Jin-ha, who seldom made appearances, had returned to the Hidden Demon Pavilion for the first time in a while.
The martial artists were brimming with anticipation and curiosity, yet in the end, they couldn't even catch a glimpse of Seo Jin-ha's robes.
Because the moment he returned, he had a brief private meeting with Bu Eun-seol before retreating to his quarters to rest.
Thud, thud.
Only silence lingered before Seo Jin-ha's quarters.
Accompanied by heavy, dull footsteps, a man with a face covered in gruesome scars appeared.
It was Seok U-haeng.
The guards stationed before the hall crossed their spears to block his path, but upon recognizing his face, they flinched and stepped aside.
"...Proceed."
—Within the Hidden Demon Pavilion, no forbidden area shall bar Seok U-haeng's entry.
Such was Bu Eun-seol's strict decree.
Thud, thud.
Without even sparing the guards a glance, Seok U-haeng pushed the door open.
Creeeak—
As the door swung open, a pungent medicinal stench assaulted his nose, and darkness spilled out from within.
A dimly lit room with all windows shut tight.
At its center, a man stood bare-chested before a bronze mirror.
"...Seok U-haeng, is it?"
The man in the mirror—Seo Jin-ha—spoke in a low voice without turning around.
"I've heard everything. You were recovering here?"
Instead of answering, Seok U-haeng furrowed his brow.
In the flickering candlelight, Seo Jin-ha's back looked grotesque.
His back muscles writhed like snakes, and his hands clutched his face, kneading it while emitting strange, muffled noises.
"My, my. Your face has... become quite manly."
Seo Jin-ha's voice sounded oddly stifled.
Seok U-haeng tilted his head slightly before stepping closer to Seo Jin-ha, who was still staring into the mirror.
When he finally got a clear look at his face—
"Seo Jin-ha."
Seok U-haeng's voice dropped low.
"What the hell is that supposed to be?"
Swish.
Seo Jin-ha slowly lowered his hands, turning his gaze toward Seok U-haeng.
Then, his reflection in the mirror was fully revealed.
It resembled not a human face but a melted wax figure.
From wearing another's visage for too long, maintaining the art of disguise—
His facial muscles had stiffened and twisted, losing their original form.
In the end, to loosen the rigid muscles—
He had been applying potent herbs and forcibly stimulating his blood flow by pressing his own acupoints, performing the brutal Chuigungwahyeol technique on himself.
"It may look grotesque now, but it'll recover soon."
"What?"
"The Hidden Demon Pavilion has plenty of Spirit Medicine. Some are even secretly sent by the Cloud Sea Azure Spirit Palace."
Seok U-haeng let out a sigh too deep for words.
During their time on Hell Island, Seo Jin-ha had possessed talent so overwhelming that even he had envied him.
A man who had once planned to poison every last competitor before the Third Trial even began—a man who had wielded the Poison Heart—
Now stood here, his face distorted, like a dog leashed to another's home.
"Are you satisfied being that bastard's dog?"
"Dog?"
"The Seo Jin-ha I knew was the kind of man who would've slaughtered every last rival on Hell Island."
Seok U-haeng's voice was icy.
"A man who once harbored such venom now barks on command, proudly flaunting his ruined face?"
Though laced with scorn—
Seo Jin-ha didn't react with anger. He merely stared blankly at his distorted reflection.
"Hm."
With a low hum, he pressed his fingers firmly against the acupoints near his eyes and mouth.
Crack—
A sickening bone sound echoed.
Then, an excruciating pain spread—
As his twisted muscles realigned, his original, coldly handsome features gradually returned.
Creak.
Seo Jin-ha massaged his jaw and lips, now freed from numbness, before letting out a soft chuckle and shaking his head.
"How enviable."
"What?"
"I, too... once had a time when I rampaged through the world, ignorant of its ways."
Seo Jin-ha picked up a cloth and wiped away the medicinal residue from his face.
"Now I think I understand why Bu Eun-seol refused to abandon you—why he spent fortunes in Spirit Medicine to bring you back."
"......"
"Because you are the 'us' from those days."
Seok U-haeng's mood soured at Seo Jin-ha's smile.
"What kind of nonsense are you spouting?"
"Stay in the Hidden Demon Pavilion a little longer. You'll understand eventually."
"What?"
"Leave. I need to rest now."
Seo Jin-ha casually draped his robes back on, brushed past the dumbfounded Seok U-haeng, and collapsed onto the bed.
"Close the door... on your way out."
Muttering softly, he closed his eyes and soon began snoring.
Having entered the safety of the Hidden Demon Pavilion in a state of extreme exhaustion, he had fallen asleep instantly.
Seok U-haeng stood motionless, staring at the sleeping Seo Jin-ha.
More than humiliation, an inexplicable bewilderment coiled around his mind.
Gyo Jung-hak, Seo Jin-ha—
It was as if they had all conspired to say the same thing—that something could be gained here.
'Fine.'
Seok U-haeng turned away.
This time, he headed toward Yu Un-ryong's office.
Upon entering, he found Yu Un-ryong frantically writing letters.
'The strategist of the Death Shadow War Unit, they say.'
The sharp aura he once had was long gone.
Now, he looked like any other high-ranking official of the Demon Hall—just another scheming leader who only used his head.
Moreover, at a distant table—
Wasn't that Myo Cheon-u gambling with the Death Shadow War Unit's Unit Leaders, placing bets?
"Oh, Seok U-haeng. You're here?"
Spotting Seok U-haeng, Myo Cheon-u grinned and waved his hand.
"Heard you've fully recovered?"
"Is this the illustrious sight of the Death Shadow War Unit?"
Seok U-haeng's voice was icy as he surveyed the lax surroundings.
"All that talk of greatness, yet in the end, you're just lounging in the high seat that bastard gave you."
"Well, if that's how you see it, then I suppose it must be so."
Myo Cheon-u laughed, utterly unbothered.
"When it's time to rest, we rest properly. Aren't we all just working ourselves to the bone, scrambling to survive?"
At the carefree reply, Seok U-haeng gritted his teeth and turned sharply on his heel.
There was nothing to learn here.
No—even if there were, it'd be a waste of time.
But what truly gnawed at him was the lack of purpose.
'In the end, am I even in a position to seek vengeance against the Buddhist Venerable?'
Sure, he had experimented on his dying body, but—
Viewed coldly—
The Buddhist Venerable had saved him after he detonated gunpowder and severed his own Heart Meridian.
All he'd done afterward was subject his crippled body to repeated tests... so vengeance wasn't even a valid concept.
'Let's go.'
Surely, in the vast expanse of the Central Plains, there was a place for him?
Just as he was about to leave the Demon Hall without a second thought—
"Pardon me."
A tall, striking man in crimson robes appeared before him.
At a glance, his slender frame might have been mistaken for a woman's, but the aura radiating from him was unmistakably that of a battle-hardened martial artist.
It was none other than the Soul-Chasing Squad Leader, Wi Cheon-gyeong.
"I am Wi Cheon-gyeong of the Soul-Chasing Squad."
When Seok U-haeng remained silent, he continued.
"Seeing that you're leaving the Hall, I've come to offer an unsolicited word."
His tone was calm.
"Our Lord believes you will come to realize something of value here... but frankly, from an outsider's perspective, grasping the true worth of this Hall is impossible."
"What's your point?"
Seok U-haeng's reply was blunt and disrespectful, but Wi Cheon-gyeong paid it no mind.
After all, Seok U-haeng was a Ten Demonic Heir.
And he was the person his superior—the man he served with his life—was most concerned about now.
"Allow me to show you the Information Warfare Unit and the operational framework of the Death Soul Squad firsthand."
Wi Cheon-gyeong offered a faint smile.
"Witness the path the Death Shadow War Unit has walked."
When Seok U-haeng still didn't respond, his smile deepened with quiet significance.
"Even if you just observe, you'll gain enough to establish a small faction of your own."
The words sounded considerate, yet carried an inexplicably provocative edge.
"And what if I leak that framework to another faction?"
Seok U-haeng smirked.
"Trying to collapse the Death Soul Squad?"
"If we were that fragile, we wouldn't have survived this long."
The Death Soul Squad had already grown into one of the most formidable intelligence networks in the Central Plains.
Even if some of its operational secrets were exposed, its multi-layered, intricate system could be entirely restructured in short order.
"Why should I bother?"
"Because we, too, once wandered without purpose."
"What?"
"Back then, fortunately, our Lord guided us. But you, Great Master Seok—you don't have that luxury now, do you?"
"Pointless drivel."
Seok U-haeng scoffed and turned away.
"You're free to refuse."
Wi Cheon-gyeong's smile didn't waver.
"You'll return eventually. The only waste is the time until then."
Seok U-haeng had resolved to leave no matter what was said.
But Wi Cheon-gyeong's provoking smile, the condescending gaze, and that prophetic remark about wasted time—
In the end, he couldn't help but halt his steps.
Besides, he was a man who valued efficiency and practicality above all.
Seeing the operational framework of the Death Soul Squad—one of the martial world's top intelligence networks—was hardly a loss.
If Wi Cheon-gyeong was this confident, a brief visit wouldn't hurt.
"Fine."
He spoke to Wi Cheon-gyeong.
"Lead the way."
The place they arrived at was the deepest, most concealed chamber within the Hidden Demon Pavilion.
The moment the massive iron doors opened—
A pungent scent of ink and paper, along with the tense atmosphere of dozens of people moving in hushed urgency, spilled out.
Messenger hawks from all corners of the Central Plains flew incessantly to the windows.
Unit Members clad in black sorted and recorded information with machinelike precision.
"Here."
Wi Cheon-gyeong gestured with his chin toward one of the walls.
Shelves packed densely to the ceiling held volumes documenting everything the Death Shadow War Unit had ever accomplished.
"Read these first. They'll show you the path our Lord and we have walked."
Then he added,
"Of course, these are all past records. You won't find ongoing operations here."
He emphasized the word past deliberately.
Seok U-haeng snorted and picked up the nearest volume.
'Copying the Secret Shadow Pavilion, I see.'
The Death Shadow War Unit was, after all, an organization within the Demon Hall, grown within its confines.
No matter how exceptional Bu Eun-seol was—
He must have modeled and refined existing systems.
But as Seok U-haeng turned the first page, then the next, his fingers gradually slowed.
Rustle. Rustle.
In the silence, the sound of flipping pages echoed loudly.
The derisive crease between his brows deepened, then his pupils trembled as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
'......This is impossible.'
The path Bu Eun-seol and the Death Shadow War Unit had walked was nothing short of mythic.
And the Death Soul Squad?
The tangled web of major and minor factions across the Central Plains—their financial flows, connections, even the trivial habits of their leaders—
Every single detail had been meticulously investigated, and through this, they had organically connected the flow of events to predict even the future.
Watching this stream of information unfold—
Wasn't it like gazing down upon the Central Plains from the heavens, as if surveying a game of Go?