Chapter 135
Thud.
The wide-open forge door locked securely with a heavy thud.
Taking a deep breath, Bu Eun-seol began examining Yeo Hwan-jin's sword with eyes blazing like heated steel.
'This is the sword of a Great Righteous Expert...'
The blade showed no visible damage, yet the sword's body was subtly warped—as if someone had gripped a piece of molten taffy at both ends and twisted it. This was a distortion entirely unlike the damage left by the Emerald Rain Sword or the Drifting Wind Sword techniques.
'Did the True Qi radiating through the entire blade warp it like this?'
The Flowing Cloud Sword Art.
Zhongnan Sect's supreme sword technique, capable of unleashing a single thread of razor-sharpness amidst overwhelming fluidity. It was also the pinnacle of the Flowing Sword concept—the ability to let anything opposing it pass by like the wind.
'But there's no trace of the technique being executed or of it cutting anything.'
Aside from the warped blade, there wasn't a single mark suggesting the sword had clashed with or cleaved through anything.
After a moment of contemplation, Bu Eun-seol retrieved a hidden booklet from the corner of the forge. Inside were diagrams and lines documenting the sword trajectories and forms of the Emerald Rain Sword and Drifting Wind Sword techniques—patterns he had deduced while repairing blades over time.
'First, let's compare it to the swords and marks I've seen before.'
Though sword techniques from the same sect varied, they shared a common foundation. If he could identify traits shared between the Emerald Rain and Drifting Wind Swords, he might find something in Yeo Hwan-jin's blade as well.
'Nothing.'
Bu Eun-seol closed his eyes and shook his head. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find even a trace.
'Is it impossible?'
As the hard-won opportunity slipped into futility, hope gave way to dejection. If he faced Yeo Hwan-jin with emotions this unsettled, defeat was inevitable—he would never survive under that man's sword.
'I must steady my mind.'
Taking another deep breath, Bu Eun-seol summoned the Counter-Polar Internal Art. Immediately, distractions vanished, and his Spirit and Mind settled back into stillness.
Whoosh.
Just then, a gust of wind slipped through the window, rustling the booklet on the workbench.
Shhhk—
The sound of pages fluttering during his Inner Training reignited the locked-away senses of the Way of the Beast.
'This is...'
As the heightened perception of the Way of the Beast surged within his meditative state, Bu Eun-seol felt something peculiar—as if time had frozen, and even the dust motes suspended in the air became vividly clear.
'The Heart Technique... I see.'
The Counter-Polar Internal Art.
An extreme Internal Energy Method that tempered the formidable True Qi, born from the principles of Yin and Yang, through sheer will. While Bu Eun-seol had been performing Inner Training not for Qi Circulation but to discipline his mind, the activation of the Way of the Beast's senses had unexpectedly elevated him to a higher realm.
'Could this be... the Empty Mind Spirit Perception?'
—The true essence of the Way of the Beast isn't just sharpening your senses. It's about seeing the unseen and feeling the unfelt.
Bu Eun-seol recalled the memory of Sa-u imparting the secret principles of the Way of the Beast back on Hell Island.
—"Seeing the unseen and feeling the unfelt," you say?
—Yes. That is precisely the Empty Mind Spirit Perception. But this isn't a realm one attains simply by mastering the Way of the Beast over time.
Sa-u had murmured while gazing at the distant sky.
—Like seeds scattered by the wind, like butterflies alighting on flowers to spread pollen... It happens naturally. By chance.
'Then...'
If this was indeed the Empty Mind Spirit Perception—the pinnacle of the Way of the Beast—?
Drawing upon the extreme senses of the Way of the Beast, now elevated once more to its highest state, Bu Eun-seol peered at the sword again.
"...!"
This time, he saw it—the faint imprint of fingernails on the hilt, invisible to him before.
A mark often left when adding rotational force, commonly seen in both the Drifting Wind and Emerald Rain Swords.
After a long moment of scrutiny, Bu Eun-seol couldn't hide his astonishment.
Yeo Hwan-jin's longsword bore no traces of forms or transitions from sword techniques.
Instead, the habits and movements ingrained in his swordplay came to life as tangible sensations.
'This is the Empty Mind Spirit Perception.'
Simply by observing and touching a sword Yeo Hwan-jin had wielded for years, he could vividly sense exactly how the man had used it.
'He's fully grasped the essence of the Formless Beyond Forms Principle.'
A realm where one wielded sword techniques freely, unbound by rigid forms.
Yeo Hwan-jin had reached such heights, which was why no traces of form transitions remained.
Yet the terrifyingly amplified senses of the Way of the Beast—the Empty Mind Spirit Perception—were now conveying every sensation Yeo Hwan-jin had left behind in his swordplay.
'Had I not understood the transitions of the Drifting Wind and Emerald Rain Swords, even the Way of the Beast wouldn't have uncovered these traces.'
After another deep breath, Bu Eun-seol imagined Yeo Hwan-jin executing the Drifting Wind and Emerald Rain techniques, tracing the man's habits and movements.
'Something's off.'
His eyes flashed as he discerned the habits, movements—and even the sword intent.
Because there was something entirely different hidden within it compared to everything he had observed so far.
'This is...'
Finally, Bu Eun-seol discovered Yeo Hwan-jin's trump card concealed within the sword.
This was only possible because Yeo Hwan-jin had used the same sword for twenty straight years.
Had he wielded an unblemished divine sword or commissioned a new blade, Bu Eun-seol would never have seen it.
'Truly fortunate.'
Bu Eun-seol exhaled a sigh as if entranced while staring at the sword.
Though he couldn't discern the shifts in sword strokes, through the abruptly heightened senses of the Way of the Beast and the realm of Empty Mind Spirit Perception, he had obtained a wealth of information about Yeo Hwan-jin.
This could only be described as Heaven's Fortune.
'I must memorize all of this and train my body to react accordingly.'
A crimson energy, like burning embers, spread through Bu Eun-seol's eyes as he absorbed the vast information from Yeo Hwan-jin's sword.
Majestic Mountain Gorge.
Located at the southern edge of Tangshan, this ravine displayed breathtaking scenery carved by eons of weathering, erosion, and sedimentation.
The towering, sheer cliffs, layered upon one another, looked as though they had been hewn by the axe of the Giant Spirit God or Pangu.
As the setting sun dyed the gorge's rocks crimson, a man clad in white robes stood statue-like atop the precipitous cliffs—none other than Yeo Hwan-jin.
Whoooosh.
Facing the cool breeze, he gazed leisurely at the flowing river below before releasing a deep sigh.
"A strange dream indeed."
For several days now, he had been having peculiar dreams in succession.
A dream of a red-hot dragon burrowing into his embrace.
And even after waking, the afterimage of that dream lingered persistently in his mind.
"Could it be because I feel empty without that thing in my grasp?"
He had entrusted the Blue Water Sword—which he had carried for twenty years to repair its warped blade—to the forge.
Because of this, Yeo Hwan-jin felt a hollowness, as though he had parted with a long-time friend.
"Tomorrow, I must immerse myself in relentless training."
As he smiled faintly and shook his head, preparing to turn away—
Crunch. Crunch.
A faint sound reached him from afar.
"Footsteps?"
They were the footsteps of a robust adult man.
"Did the Martial Hall send someone?"
The Majestic Mountain Gorge where Yeo Hwan-jin resided was a treacherous terrain even herb gatherers avoided.
Thus, aside from the masters from the Zhongnan Sect's branch who visited to learn sword techniques, no human footsteps ever reached this place... So why were footsteps audible at this hour?
"You are..."
Yeo Hwan-jin's expression grew peculiar as he spotted the approaching figure.
Backlit by the setting sun, the one walking toward him was none other than the young master blacksmith from the Tangshan Iron Family, who had taken charge of repairing the Blue Water Sword.
"What brings you here?"
"The sword is fully repaired."
"What?"
This was incomprehensible.
Not only was it astonishing that the young blacksmith from the Tangshan Iron Family knew his dwelling place, but how had he traversed these sheer mountain paths without even a single labored breath?
"Would you like to see it?"
At that moment, Bu Eun-seol extended the sword—wrapped snugly in soft cloth—that he held in one hand.
"Here, take it."
Even in this bewildering situation, Yeo Hwan-jin maintained his composure as he accepted the sword.
Sshhring!
When he drew the blade, a clearer and deeper sword resonance rang out than before.
"Hoh."
Yeo Hwan-jin's eyes gradually widened as he gripped the hilt.
When he lightly swept the sword through the air, its sharp gleam lingered as an afterimage far longer than usual. The sword felt significantly lighter, and its handling had improved.
It was as though his own arm had been extended.
"How is it?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Yeo Hwan-jin opened his mouth and nodded.
"Exceedingly satisfactory. Beyond my expectations."
"Is that so? A relief."
Bu Eun-seol nodded and clasped his hands together.
"Bu Eun-seol, Ten Demonic Heir of Langya Pavilion, challenges you."
"Ten Demonic Heir, you say."
Yeo Hwan-jin wasn't particularly surprised.
From the moment Bu Eun-seol approached, he had sensed the powerful flow of true qi emanating from his body.
"I see."
Yeo Hwan-jin sighed deeply, recalling the recent rumors that had shaken the Murim—about the Mount Hua Sect and the Ten Demonic Heirs.
"So the Inheritors are moving all at once."
Then he laughed hollowly.
"Truly fitting for seeds of the Demonic Path. Disguising yourself as a blacksmith to secretly observe our sect's sword techniques, were you?"
The battle had already begun in all but name.
Yeo Hwan-jin aimed to unsettle Bu Eun-seol's mind and provoke him with a single accusation.
But Bu Eun-seol only smirked in response.
"I heard the Great Righteous Experts were taught martial arts by experts well-versed in the Demonic Path's techniques. Is that what you're referring to?"
"To know that much and still challenge me... How reckless."
Yeo Hwan-jin chuckled dryly.
"But rest assured. The martial arts of Langya Pavilion lack both system and lineage, so even the alliance doesn't recognize them as proper Demonic Path techniques."
"Indeed. The Zhongnan Sect's martial prowess is truly remarkable."
Bu Eun-seol spoke impassively.
"To think you'd teach me how to attack an opponent with your mouth before even fighting."
The relaxed smile on Yeo Hwan-jin's face froze into something icy.
He had been trying to get under Bu Eun-seol's skin, but instead found himself counterattacked—only succeeding in souring his own mood.
"Hahaha. As expected, one can't hope to win against a Demonic Path Spawn with mere words."
Regaining his composure, Yeo Hwan-jin leisurely extended one hand.
"Then, shall we take a look at Langya Pavilion's martial arts?"
A wisp of wind unfurled from Yeo Hwan-jin's body.
With his outstretched hand, he looked every bit the transcendent immortal.
But Bu Eun-seol was staring only at the distant sky.
His gaze remained utterly serene, as though he had completely forgotten Yeo Hwan-jin's existence.
Watching this, the corner of Yeo Hwan-jin's mouth curled into a cold smile.
"So you've studied our sect's sword techniques extensively, it seems."
The sword arts of Zhongnan Sect, a Taoist faction, specialized more in counterattacks than initiating offense.
Attacking first would only expose one's weaknesses.
"But this body broke free from our sect's sword constraints long ago!"
With that short cry, a streak of sword qi surged toward Bu Eun-seol's chest.
In that instant, Yeo Hwan-jin had made his move like lightning.
Swoosh.
Simultaneously, Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword emerged from its scabbard.
A chilling energy instantly spread in all directions as his blade sliced horizontally through the air, intercepting Yeo Hwan-jin's thrusting longsword.
"A divine sword."
Noticing the strange luster flowing from the Ink Sword, Yeo Hwan-jin immediately altered his sword stroke.
The sword qi that had been boring into Bu Eun-seol's chest lightly rotated midair before slashing toward his shoulder.
It was the opening stroke of the Emerald Rain Sword's "Deep River Still Water."
Chik!
Instead of dodging, Bu Eun-seol stepped forward and stabbed toward Yeo Hwan-jin's armpit—the vulnerable point of this technique.
"You've already mastered the Emerald Rain Sword. I suppose you've studied all the sword techniques taught at our Tangshan branch?"
Yeo Hwan-jin, his voice laced with derision, swung his longsword again.
Whirrrrl!
The blade spun violently, sweeping toward Bu Eun-seol like a broom.
It was the decisive stroke of the Drifting Wind Sword Art—"Seeing Gain Think Righteousness."
Whirrrrl!
In response, Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword also spun fiercely, casting shadows in all directions.
His version of "Seeing Gain Think Righteousness" carried even greater force than Yeo Hwan-jin's.
"So you've mastered the Drifting Wind Sword too."
Swiftly changing his stance to avoid the clash, Yeo Hwan-jin's eyebrows shot upward.
Reading a sword's trajectory from broken blade marks wasn't particularly difficult.
But Bu Eun-seol had grasped not just the trajectories—he'd comprehended every inherent variation and sword principle within each stroke.
"Impressive. I'd believe you if you said you were our sect's disciple."
Even as he continuously unleashed sword techniques, Yeo Hwan-jin chastised Bu Eun-seol for stealing them.
"After today, I'll have to view the Demonic Path Ten Gates differently. Who knows—perhaps the roots of their martial arts lie in orthodox techniques."
Speaking continuously while wielding a sword was no easy feat.
Yeo Hwan-jin seemed to have trained as much in running his mouth as he had in swordplay.
Swish-swish-swish! Whirr!
Though close enough to touch, their blades never once clashed.
Because no matter what technique Yeo Hwan-jin employed, Bu Eun-seol instantly pinpointed its weakness and stabbed through it.
"To have refined it to this extent..."
A faint smile touched Yeo Hwan-jin's lips.
He had deliberately used the Emerald Rain and Drifting Wind Swords to test how deeply Bu Eun-seol understood Zhongnan's techniques.
"Then let's begin properly."
With a swishing sound, Yeo Hwan-jin altered his sword technique.
A light breeze stirred before dozens of sword qi strands poured forth, coiling around Bu Eun-seol's body.
It was Zhongnan Sect's supreme sword art—the Flowing Cloud Sword Technique.
Whirrrrl!
Though Bu Eun-seol tried to deflect the qi with his Ink Sword, the Flowing Cloud Technique curved like wind, slipping through every gap.
"Our sect's sword is like the wind—impossible to clash against or block."
Yeo Hwan-jin relentlessly unleashed sword qi, pressing Bu Eun-seol harder.
"...!"
As the onslaught continued, Bu Eun-seol's feet began moving erratically.
Sssss.
Like rising mist, his figure grew hazy before effortlessly evading the wind-like Flowing Cloud Technique.
"Your movement technique is remarkable."
Yeo Hwan-jin, exhaling in admiration, advanced rapidly while unleashing storm-like sword strokes.
"But how long can you keep dodging?"
The Flowing Cloud Sword Technique—wrapping around its target like a breeze to exploit weaknesses.
The Swift Shadowless—capable of ninety-nine directional shifts per step, combining movement and footwork.
Zhongnan's supreme sword art clashed directly against Langya Pavilion's Utmost Divine Movement Art.
Whirrrl-ssss!
For a moment, heaven and earth seemed filled with nothing but sword qi and shadows.
But soon, the outcome became clear.
Bu Eun-seol's robes began tearing apart under Yeo Hwan-jin's blade.
Sssk.
Believing victory assured, Yeo Hwan-jin allowed a triumphant smile to grace his lips.
Yet that smile soon twisted into puzzlement.
Despite being thoroughly outmatched... Bu Eun-seol's eyes had sunk into a cold, predatory stillness—like a beast that had finally spotted its prey.