Chapter 294
Shiver—
At that moment, Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword began to tremble before radiating a circular glow.
As the life-threatening Killing Move bore down on him, the Rhomboid Sword Control Form unfolded on its own.
Clang! Clatter-clang!
Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword blocked the Fourth Swordsman's lethal strike, then flawlessly intercepted the sword techniques unleashed by the remaining three swordsmen.
Swish!
The four swordsmen momentarily recoiled, seemingly startled by the might of the Rhomboid Sword Control Form, before retreating in unison.
"Impressive swordsmanship," the First Swordsman remarked, nodding slightly with a hint of surprise in his eyes.
"Out of all the defensive techniques I've witnessed, this is the most flawless."
Raising his sword to mid-guard, he continued,
"But no matter how many such tricks you pull, a flaw will eventually reveal itself."
His words carried the weight of an ultimatum.
"This time, your neck will surely be severed."
Click.
Bu Eun-seol sheathed the Ink Sword back into its scabbard and replied indifferently,
"Try it."
A bone-chilling cold seemed to emanate from his bloodstained eyes.
"I'll show you just how futile your actions are."
In an instant, the air inside froze abruptly—proof that his words were not mere confidence.
"Hahaha."
The First Swordsman burst into laughter, his expression incredulous.
"Are you saying you've already deciphered the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe technique?"
"There was nothing to decipher."
Bu Eun-seol's voice was icy.
"It was never a perfect sword technique to begin with."
The gazes of all four swordsmen shifted instantly.
They had spent half their lives striving to create the perfect sword form.
Yet, with a single sentence, Bu Eun-seol had dismissed their efforts and their results.
"You claim the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe is imperfect?"
"Unleash it, and you'll see."
"Very well."
Shiik!
Once again, three swordsmen executed their techniques in sequence.
Their combined assault alone was enough to effortlessly block every one of Bu Eun-seol's Sword Strokes.
And if the Fourth Swordsman exploited the opening that would inevitably appear, Bu Eun-seol would ultimately collapse.
Shing! Clang!
Bu Eun-seol and the three swordsmen engaged in a fierce exchange at close quarters.
Meanwhile, the Fourth Swordsman held back, carefully observing Bu Eun-seol's Sword Strokes.
'Now!'
Just as the Fourth Swordsman spotted an opening and lunged for Bu Eun-seol's flank—
Click-click!
Bu Eun-seol's swordplay abruptly shifted.
He swung his sword wildly, as if drunk, then suddenly halted mid-motion—an erratic and bizarre Martial Form.
In that instant, not only the three swordsmen but even the attacking Fourth Swordsman froze in bewilderment.
'Did he deliberately conceal his forms?'
The First Swordsman inwardly exclaimed in shock.
When sword techniques reach their pinnacle, one can conceal their forms while still embodying profound Sword Intent.
Could it be that Bu Eun-seol's swordsmanship had ascended to such divine heights—concealing his forms while executing ever-changing Sword Strokes?
Shiik!
Then, Bu Eun-seol's seemingly chaotic swings transformed once more.
His technique shifted into a lightning-fast, exquisitely precise Quick Sword Form, as if a thunderbolt had struck.
And like a whip, his blade coiled abruptly—wrapping around the Second Swordsman's forearm.
"Don't be fooled!"
The Second Swordsman, his forearm slashed, let out a sharp grunt before shouting,
"He observed our sequential swordplay, disrupted the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe with erratic strokes, and then exploited the opening to unleash a Killing Move!"
The remaining swordsmen couldn't hide their stunned expressions.
They had never imagined Bu Eun-seol would dismantle the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe in such a manner.
"I thought he was unveiling some grand technique. Turns out he was just exploiting the principle of No Form Overcomes Form?"
The First Swordsman, having forced Bu Eun-seol back with a powerful slash, sneered.
"Do you really think such petty tricks will work more than once?"
"Far from it."
Bu Eun-seol's lips curled into a cold smile.
"I only demonstrated the principle of No Form Overcomes Form to show you how delusional your ambitions were."
"What?"
"Try it again."
Bu Eun-seol's frigid gaze bore down on the First Swordsman.
"It will be the last sword technique you ever perform in this Mortal Realm."
It was the Death God's final ultimatum.
Yet the four swordsmen only chuckled in response. To them, Bu Eun-seol's words were nothing but empty bravado.
"If you could truly break our Seamless as a Heavenly Robe, you would have done so already."
The First Swordsman smirked coldly and turned to the others.
"No need to be swayed by his nonsense."
Casually, he raised his sword.
As if it were a signal, the four swordsmen simultaneously unleashed their techniques.
Whoosh!
The moment their swordplay unfolded, its might seemed capable of rending heaven and earth apart.
The Seamless as a Heavenly Robe, striking simultaneously from all four directions—
A flawless Sword Stroke that pierced through the enemy's openings, impossible to block, forcing one to retreat endlessly.
Srrrk.
Yet Bu Eun-seol did not evade. He simply stood still, staring at their techniques.
'For all his talk, he's resorting to the No Form Overcomes Form principle again.'
Identical sneers curled on the lips of all four swordsmen.
The moment their swords made contact, they abruptly altered their sword strokes, intending to execute the same counterattack as before.
'Useless. The moment your sword techniques unfold, ours will transform into a corresponding flawless sword technique.'
A triumphant smile curled at the lips of the First Swordsman.
The Seamless as a Heavenly Robe technique grew more powerful the stronger the opponent's sword techniques were.
No matter what method Bu Eun-seol employed to unleash his swordplay,
a corresponding sword form would instantly materialize to counter it.
Swish!
Just as their blades were about to pierce Bu Eun-seol's body—
Whoom!
A dark radiance suddenly surged from his entire being, simultaneously coiling around their swords.
Willful True Binding.
The Heavenly Outer Absolute Art, capable of manifesting true qi into any tangible form, had been unleashed once more.
Thud.
The four longswords struck Bu Eun-seol's body—but thanks to Willful True Binding, they merely grazed his skin, barely breaking the surface.
"Is this what you call a flawless sword stroke?"
In that instant, the faces of all four swordsmen turned deathly pale.
By not resisting their attack and instead ensnaring their sword strokes with Willful True Binding, Bu Eun-seol had effortlessly shattered the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe technique.
The swordsmen froze in disbelief.
How could such a thing happen?
Flash!
In that same moment, Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword carved a series of perfect arcs through the air.
Clang!
Simultaneously, four severed hands thudded to the ground—each wrist cleanly sliced off at the hilt.
Splurt!
Blood gushed from the stumps of the swordsmen's arms, yet they made no move to staunch the bleeding. Their eyes bulged wide, uncomprehending.
—Had the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe been nothing but a delusion?
Their gazes were hollow.
They had devoted their entire lives to creating the perfect sword technique.
Finally, they had succeeded—not only in devising a technique that could instantly pinpoint an opponent's flaws mid-battle,
but one where four Masters compensated for each other's weaknesses, executing an impeccable sword form.
To perfect it, they had endured another decade of grueling training in a lightless stone chamber.
And yet, had it all been a futile illusion? Shattered in a single move by this young Master?
Then what had they been doing for the past ten years?
"How...?"
The First Swordsman lifted his head, murmuring in desolation.
"The Seamless as a Heavenly Robe can dismantle any sword technique. The stronger the opponent's swordplay, the more powerful its counterstroke becomes. And yet..."
Bu Eun-seol cut him off with a single stroke of words.
"Your Seamless as a Heavenly Robe is nothing more than four individuals patching each other's deficiencies. It was never a perfect sword form to begin with."
His voice was calm, detached.
"Moreover, while your sword techniques may be advanced, your cultivation of Spirit and Mind is pitiful."
"Cultivation of Spirit and Mind...?"
"The moment your technique was dismantled, you all acted like empty shells, didn't you?"
The swordsmen flinched as one, recalling their own reactions.
"Arrogance in believing you had created a flawless technique. Then, when it broke, you lost your composure and succumbed to despair. That was your downfall."
In that instant, a realization flashed through their minds.
Their swordplay had always been superior.
Had they fought with tenacity and relentlessness, even Bu Eun-seol would have struggled immensely.
But the swordsmen had been blinded by their confidence—no, their hubris—in their "perfect" technique.
And when Willful True Binding blocked it in a single stroke, despair and emptiness overwhelmed them.
A broken technique did not mean defeat.
Yet the moment they felt their Seamless as a Heavenly Robe shatter, they froze—paralyzed by despair and lethargy.
Bu Eun-seol had seized that opening and severed their wrists without hesitation.
"You created an exceptional sword form. But you neglected the experience and tempering needed to wield it in battle."
The First Swordsman stared into the void and sighed deeply.
"To meet a true Master of the sword, only to see a decade of effort rendered meaningless in a single day..."
Shame twisted across the faces of the four swordsmen.
Bu Eun-seol's body was riddled with wounds from their technique.
There was scarcely an untouched spot on him—yet he had neither feared nor despaired, ultimately dismantling their art.
"We became too obsessed with perfection."
The First Swordsman's whisper was feeble. Blood trickled from his lips before he collapsed to the ground.
Thud. Thud.
One by one, the remaining swordsmen followed, crimson spilling from their mouths as they fell.
Despair.
They were aged, with no strength left to create another peerless sword art.
Seeing no further hope, they had severed their own Heart Meridians and taken their lives.
Bu Eun-seol observed their bodies indifferently before turning away.
A true martial Master does not merely train their disciples in physical techniques—they temper their spirits through trials and pressure.
For the higher one ascends, the more crucial Spirit and Mind becomes, surpassing even martial prowess itself.
Bu Eun-seol had honed his Spirit and Mind through years of washing corpses, enduring the Corpse Game, and absorbing Bu Jan-yang's teachings.
But these swordsmen had likely walked a path of unbroken privilege.
Only when they finally met an insurmountable wall had they devised the Seamless as a Heavenly Robe in their despair.
And when their "perfect" technique was dismantled, their pride shattered with it.
Moreover, they had aged, and no longer possessed the mental fortitude to wield that sword form with such tenacity... It was inevitable they would lose.
'This is the nature of a martial artist's life.'
No matter how desperately one strives, facing a master even a single level above means defeat—or death.
Understanding this, Bu Eun-seol had never clung to life. Instead, he honed his martial arts to the utmost every single day.
For one never knew when or where their eyes might close, so he lived without a single moment of regret.
Tap. Tap.
Bu Eun-seol's plain gray martial uniform was already soaked in blood, dyed crimson.
Yet he straightened his back further and took another step. No trial could bend his spine.
And at last, he arrived before the iron gate ahead.
'Seo Jin-ha.'
Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath.
He had already unraveled all their schemes.
No matter what lay ahead, he must not falter or despair.
If his spirit and mind crumbled, his martial prowess would never advance another inch—
Or worse, his humanity might be extinguished by rage, transforming him into a Great Demon who thirsted for blood.
'But...'
Bu Eun-seol bit his lip.
Though his temperament was cold, Bu Jan-yang's nurturing had kindled a fire of emotion deep within him.
Had it not been for that, he would never have devoted his entire life to vengeance.
'I'm afraid.'
Honestly, he was terrified.
Terrified that the hope before him might vanish. That deep despair and rage might carry these emotions away, beyond his reach—
Groan.
As the thick iron gate opened, a heavy vibration seemed to reverberate through Bu Eun-seol's skull.
There, before him, was Seo Jin-ha.
Chained to the stone wall, his entire body—save for his face—was stained red, his flesh flayed.
And on the floor lay scattered strips of skin, peeled from his body.
"Impressive."
And standing calmly before him was a middle-aged man holding a blade shaped like a razor used to shave monks' heads.
"The Life-Severing Blade?"
Bu Eun-seol's eyes flashed as he scrutinized the blade, and the middle-aged man nodded.
"Heh. Sharp eyes."
The man chuckled softly, tilting his head.
"Indeed. This old man is none other than Dong Yeo-rip."
The Life-Severing Blade, Dong Yeo-rip.
One of the Ten Demonic Paragons, the previous generation's greatest masters of the Demonic Path, and the foremost torture technician in the martial world.
So infamous was he for torturing victims to death with the Life-Severing Blade that he had earned another alias—Death by Torture.
Though past eighty, his profound internal energy preserved the visage of a middle-aged man.
"To reach this place unharmed after facing the Fourth Swordsman... Remarkable."
Behind Dong Yeo-rip stood a dozen martial artists, rigid as statues.
"But these are different. My personally raised disciples, long nourished on Human Blossoms."
Their eyes were unfocused, devoid of awareness.
Dong Yeo-rip's cruelty knew no bounds—he had even drugged his own disciples into becoming Soulless Ones.
Yet Bu Eun-seol paid neither Dong Yeo-rip nor the Soulless Ones any heed.
His gaze remained fixed on Seo Jin-ha, hanging motionless, his skin stripped away.
"Did you torture him?"
"I did."
Dong Yeo-rip answered with serene indifference.
"Starting with his fingers, then his hands, his chest... Three hundred and fifty-five cuts, shaving his flesh thin."
"By the hundredth cut, he finally passed out. I woke him intermittently, and when exhaustion threatened death, I fed him porridge before resuming."
He was a master of his craft.
Not just in breaking the body, but in shattering the mind.
His words were meant to drown Bu Eun-seol's tranquil spirit in rage.
Rage could be a powerful force.
But for someone of Bu Eun-seol's caliber, it was nothing but a hindrance.
"Seo Jin-ha."
Bu Eun-seol called his name carefully.
There was no response.
For an instant, Bu Eun-seol's pupils trembled like rippling water.
The image of his grandfather, dying in wretched agony, overlapped with Seo Jin-ha's mutilated form.
Shiver.
As Bu Eun-seol's body shook with fury, Dong Yeo-rip smiled in satisfaction.
"Let me make one thing clear."
His grin was cruel.
"My iron rule is this: as long as they smile during torture, I do not cut their throats."
Bu Eun-seol lowered his head.
"Why torture him?"
"He might have known something we didn't."
Dong Yeo-rip shrugged.
"Group Leader of the Celestial Slaughter Corps, they said. His endurance was impressive."
Smirking, he continued, eager to shatter Bu Eun-seol's psyche further.
"I've tortured countless men over decades."
He tapped Seo Jin-ha's hanging body, like a butcher testing the sinews of slaughtered meat.
Plop. Plop.
Fresh blood and strips of remaining flesh rained to the floor.
"Not once has this old man failed to extract—"
His words cut off abruptly.
A violet flash of lightning struck, and blood sprayed from the throats of the Soulless Ones flanking him.
'When—?'
Dong Yeo-rip stared at the blood splattering his cheek, eyes wide.
He, too, had stepped into the Extreme Heaven Realm. Yet he hadn't even seen Bu Eun-seol's technique?
"You have no right to live."
A bloody light ignited in Bu Eun-seol's pupils.
And his voice was the last whisper of a Death God, marking a name in the Underworld's ledger.