Chapter 156
Han Yeong-baek roared at the top of his lungs, yet no one stepped forward.
Bu Eun-seol had fought fairly—if anything, he had merely defended himself against what was essentially an ambush disguised as a joint attack.
"Estate Master Han."
Finally, unable to stand by any longer, one of the guests—Gu Cheong-gak, a master from the Liangguang Murim Alliance—approached and spoke.
"The Great Righteous Experts violated martial ethics by launching a joint attack. If we now slaughter them en masse... how would we be any different from the Evil Demonic Heresies?"
"What nonsense are you spouting? My son is dead!"
"Estate Master Han."
As Gu Cheong-gak shook his head,
"Great Hero Gu."
Yang In-cheong, an old fist master from the Jeong-ju Fist Gate and a close friend of Han Yeong-baek, intervened.
"Great Hero Gu, your words are not without merit. But did they not first infiltrate Longsword Mountain Manor in secret to carry out an ambush? What use is discussing the Path of Chivalry with assassins?"
At this, Gu Cheong-gak shook his head again.
"Wasn't even the Gold Basin Washing ceremony itself a trap for the Ten Demonic Heirs? If we abandon all principles to capture them, how are we any different from the Evil Demonic Heresies?"
"Great Hero Gu."
"And let me be clear—I am speaking out now for Estate Master Han's sake."
When Yang In-cheong tried to argue further, Gu Cheong-gak cut in.
"Young Estate Master Han and the Blue Maiden violated a fair duel by launching a joint attack. If the righteous guests now draw their swords en masse to exact revenge... Longsword Mountain Manor's reputation will be dragged through the mud."
For a moment, Han Yeong-baek was speechless.
Longsword Mountain Manor had always stood as a prestigious sword clan in the martial world.
But if his son had died after resorting to a dishonorable joint attack—and if they now retaliated by mobilizing hundreds of guests for a massacre—how could the manor ever hold its head high again?
"This is..."
Han Yeong-baek's breath came in ragged gasps.
No matter what, his son had committed an act unbefitting a chivalrous hero.
Had the joint attack succeeded and wiped them all out, it would have been a clean end. But now, those very enemies stood before him, alive and glaring.
In the end, there was nothing he could do.
Yet, at that moment—
"You did not face our sect's disciple Pyeong Seo-un in a fair duel. You ambushed him."
Kang Jung-ryang, leading the Kongtong Sect's Taoists, stepped forward and spoke gravely.
"Do you admit it?"
"I do. I ambushed him."
As Seok U-haeng stepped forward to answer, Kang Jung-ryang bit his lip.
"By all rights, we should seize this opportunity to eliminate you all—but we will not. Because we are disciples of the Kongtong Sect."
"Now you pretend to be righteous?"
Seok U-haeng laughed coldly.
"You were the ones who swarmed in for a joint attack. Now that the situation has turned, you find it awkward to continue and retreat."
The only remaining tactic was to overwhelm the enemy through sheer numbers—the Rotating Wheel Battle.
But with the Great Righteous Experts already dead from their joint attack... the Kongtong Sect could not resort to such petty methods again.
"A mere assassin like you could never comprehend the heart of a righteous Taoist."
"Is that so?"
"Hah. How could a sparrow understand the will of a phoenix?"
With those words, Kang Jung-ryang shot him a contemptuous glare before turning away.
Then, Du Ak of the Zhongnan Sect fixed his gaze on Seok U-haeng and spoke.
"Was it also you who killed our sect's disciple?"
"It was me."
This time, Bu Eun-seol stepped forward.
"I challenged him and fought him fairly."
"Our sect's elders did not believe that."
Du Ak sighed deeply and shook his head.
"But seeing today... I can no longer deny it."
The Zhongnan Sect had examined Yeo Hwan-jin's Brand and deduced that he had fought the Ten Demonic Heir one-on-one.
Yet most elders had stubbornly insisted that the Ten Demonic Heir could not have killed Yeo Hwan-jin in a fair duel—that it must have been a cowardly ambush.
That was why the Zhongnan Sect had dispatched disciples to scour the Rivers and Lakes for the Ten Demonic Heir responsible.
"Nevertheless, the fact remains—you killed our sect's disciple."
Du Ak bit his lip before continuing.
"For now, this humble Taoist lacks the strength to act. But one day, I will challenge you."
"Whenever you're ready."
At Bu Eun-seol's composed reply, Du Ak clenched his lips and turned away with a hollow expression.
'Just saving face.'
Bu Eun-seol knew.
Du Ak had fully grasped the gap in their strength—and would never dare to challenge him.
If he had truly intended to hone his martial arts and challenge me later, he would have at least demanded I remove my mask first.
"Very well."
Bu Eun-seol turned indifferently to leave when suddenly, Han Yeong-baek and over a hundred guests surrounded him.
"This is absolutely unacceptable! The others may pass, but there's no way I'm letting you leave!"
Han Yeong-baek's eyes burned with bitter hatred as he glared at Bu Eun-seol.
"How could I possibly let the bastard who killed my son walk free?! Even if it means sealing Longsword Mountain Villa forever, I swear I'll kill you today!"
With that furious cry, Han Yeong-baek and the hundred martial masters who sided with him drew their weapons.
"Seok U-haeng. It seems we won't avoid a melee after all."
Myo Cheon-u turned his head to speak to Seok U-haeng, only for his jaw to drop in shock.
The man who had been standing beside him had vanished without a trace.
"That treacherous bastard!"
Seok U-haeng had taken advantage of the chaos to slip away unnoticed from Longsword Mountain Villa.
"Dammit, I'll help you, Bu Eun-seol."
Myo Cheon-u was a man of honor.
Seeing Bu Eun-seol prepare to face a hundred martial artists alone, he stepped forward without hesitation.
"We'll die anyway. But at least we'll—"
His grin froze mid-sentence as he stared at Bu Eun-seol.
Whoooosh—!
A violent gale of true qi erupted from Bu Eun-seol's body, and crimson light began coalescing around his palms.
"What the hell are you trying to—"
"The Seven Forms of the Fist Demon..."
As Bu Eun-seol's hands traced a semicircle through the air, a red mist seeped from his pupils.
KWA-RUNG!
Simultaneously, a terrifying energy surged up his spine and exploded skyward.
Bu Eun-seol had already reached the threshold of the Fifth Layer of the Counter-Polar Internal Art.
Now, as he channeled his full internal power, the monstrous strength concealed by his Return to Plainness realm—
Manifested visibly, his qi taking tangible form.
"Attack him now!"
Sensing the abnormal pressure radiating from Bu Eun-seol, Han Yeong-baek roared the order.
But at that exact moment, Bu Eun-seol's palms thrust forward.
"Heaven—Hand—Empty—Breaking————!"
HWA-RAAAK!
A devastating storm of true qi swept past the hundred armed martial artists.
CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE.
Simultaneously, fissures spiderwebbed across the nearby walls and pavilions before—KWA-RU-RUNG!
With an earth-shaking boom, the structures shattered into fragments and collapsed.
RUUUUMBLE, KWA-RU-RU-RUNG!
Like brittle cookies, the pavilions and walls crumbled in succession.
Han Yeong-baek and the others could only gape in disbelief at the impossible spectacle before them.
"Is this... the might of a fist technique that a human can unleash...?"
Bu Eun-seol's outstretched palms were angled slightly left, deliberately avoiding direct impact.
Had that strike landed squarely upon them?
At the very least, dozens would have been severely wounded or killed.
'Hm.'
Bu Eun-seol swallowed the metallic tang of blood rising in his throat.
'It was too much, after all.'
The Heavenly Hand Empty Breaking technique was an apocalyptic fist strike that expelled every ounce of internal power in a single blow.
Attempting this ultimate technique without perfect mastery had inevitably inflicted heavy internal injuries.
Yet showing no outward sign, he calmly regulated his breathing and spoke to Myo Cheon-u.
"Let's go."
Without a backward glance, he strode toward the collapsed wall.
Myo Cheon-u, still frozen in shock, finally snapped out of it and followed Bu Eun-seol beyond the ruins.
Though countless martial artists stood watching, not one dared block his path.
"What kind of fist technique was that? It resembled the Main Palace's supreme art, the Seal Annihilating Wall Breaking Palm."
"..."
"And that sword technique you used against Han Seong and Cheong Cho-hyeon—what was it? Is that Langya Pavilion's Supreme-grade Absolute Art?"
Myo Cheon-u bombarded Bu Eun-seol with questions as they walked.
But Bu Eun-seol continued forward in silence as if deaf to the words.
"Seok U-haeng. That jackal has no honor."
Myo Cheon-u gnashed his teeth at the memory of Seok U-haeng's face.
"That bastard. He could've escaped earlier, but he stayed to watch your battle with the Great Righteous Experts. Then when things turned dire, he slipped away alone."
Still, Bu Eun-seol walked on without a word.
"What's wrong? You're injured, aren't you!"
Only now did Myo Cheon-u notice that Bu Eun-seol's steps were slightly unsteady, with a thread-like trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth.
"Take my hand."
Myo Cheon-u urgently extended his hand.
"We need to use a movement technique and get out of Longsword Mountain Manor's territory immediately. If they realize you're injured, they'll chase us right awa—"
He tried to support Bu Eun-seol and quickly activate his movement technique—but then he saw it.
A faint mist was rising from Bu Eun-seol's body as he walked.
Only now did Myo Cheon-u realize: Bu Eun-seol had been performing a circulation healing session while moving.
"...You're circulating qi while walking?"
His expression was as if he had seen a ghost.
He, too, was a Ten Demonic Heir, having inherited one of the Demonic Path Ten Gates's ultimate arts.
But Bu Eun-seol's martial arts were unlike anything he had ever witnessed—their level had already surpassed the limits of what a Ten Demonic Heir should be capable of.
So that's how it was.
Only now could Myo Cheon-u somewhat understand Seok U-haeng's feelings.
Bu Eun-seol was a wall that only grew taller the more one climbed.
No matter how high one reached, believing they would eventually surpass it—before they knew it, the wall had risen so high that even tilting their head back wouldn't reveal its peak.
From Seok U-haeng's perspective, that insurmountable wall must have been unbearable.
"Go ahead first."
Bu Eun-seol spoke as if briefly pausing his qi circulation.
"Leave this area quickly and treat your arm. If you don't, you might lose the use of that left arm."
His indifferent voice carried an undercurrent of concern.
Seeing Bu Eun-seol standing there, unfazed by his own injuries, Myo Cheon-u's gaze darkened.
"Bu Eun-seol."
Myo Cheon-u spoke as though he couldn't comprehend it.
"Why are you like this?"
"What do you mean?"
"You weren't like this before. You."
The coldest, most indifferent person on Hell Island—Bu Eun-seol.
He had never mingled with anyone, nor had he ever cared about anyone.
He had always dwelled alone in the darkness, intending to survive to the very end by himself.
"Neither Seok U-haeng nor I had any real connection to you. So why did you save us?"
"I didn't save you."
"Don't lie. If you never intended to help us in the first place, why bother wearing a mask?"
Myo Cheon-u's expression was one of utter confusion.
"Rumors are spreading that the Demonic Heavenly Emperor will soon emerge from closed-door training. If you hadn't helped us this time, you could've easily secured your place as a successor candidate for the Demon Hall."
When Bu Eun-seol remained silent, Myo Cheon-u pressed again.
"Even on Hell Island, we joined forces to try and kill you and Seo Jin-ha. Doesn't that make you resent us?"
"Everyone was just doing what they had to."
Bu Eun-seol's expression was indifferent.
"I was only trying to survive, too."
He felt nothing toward the other Ten Demonic Heirs.
No hatred, no envy, no jealousy. No desire to surpass them all.
Only the will to survive—and to grow stronger.
"...You really feel nothing toward us?"
As Myo Cheon-u furrowed his brow, Bu Eun-seol fell silent for a moment.
Then, as if deeply considering something, he slowly spoke.
"Not entirely."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"We were in the same hell. And we survived it."
It was an honest sentiment.
In the past, he had been incapable of feeling anything toward others.
But after stepping into the martial world, experiencing many things, and even finding a kindred spirit as a close friend—Bu Eun-seol had developed a thread of emotion.
It was a sense of kinship toward those who shared his fate as Ten Demonic Heirs.
"...So that's it."
Finally, Myo Cheon-u understood Bu Eun-seol's heart.
In the desolate, ruthless storms of the martial world, there existed those who shared the same fate—those of the same kind.
It was an indescribable, profound emotion.
"Truthfully... I helped Seok U-haeng for the same reason."
Myo Cheon-u spoke candidly.
"I knew he was trying to use me... but I couldn't bring myself to hate him."
"..."
"To be honest, I've always wanted to get closer to you. You're gloomy and strange, but there's something... lonely about you."
When Bu Eun-seol stared blankly at him, Myo Cheon-u scratched his nose awkwardly.
"Just saying."
"I see."
Bu Eun-seol gave a slight nod—then, seemingly recovered enough to use a movement technique, he launched himself forward in a flash.
"Then I'll take my leave."
With a sharp whoosh, Bu Eun-seol shot into mid-air in an instant.
"I won't forget today's debt!"
Watching Bu Eun-seol's retreating figure, Myo Cheon-u nodded as if resolving something within himself.
"Bu Eun-seol."
Staring vacantly in the direction Bu Eun-seol had disappeared, he muttered under his breath.
"We'll meet again soon."