Chapter 3
The orthodox sects, which systematically taught martial arts and raised disciples, produced outstanding figures generation after generation.
But the demonic path factions, which moved only according to profit and hegemony, were always scattered and disorganized.
Occasionally, masters of unrivaled supremacy did appear, but in terms of power, they inevitably fell behind the orthodox sects.
Thus, the Demonic Path Ten Gates, called the Sky of the Demonic Path, joined forces to create a coalition of the Demonic Path Murim.
The Demon Hall.
This place, called the Demonic Path Martial Alliance, modeled itself after the orthodox Martial Alliance and became the focal point of all demonic path factions under heaven.
Around noon.
At the entrance of the Demon Hall, countless people had formed a long, winding line.
Because visitors had to write in the guestbook each time they entered, the stretched-out line showed no sign of shrinking.
"Ahh, they've gathered like clouds."
Mo Gwang, the gate guard protecting the entrance of the Demon Hall, let out a deep sigh and muttered.
At that, his colleague beside him, Jang Sam, shook his head.
"Of course. They say that as long as your aptitude is good, they'll teach you Demonic Path Martial Arts regardless of faction. What fool would miss this opportunity?"
"Damn. If only I were younger, I'd apply to be one of the Ten Demonic Heirs myself."
The Ten Demonic Heirs Plan.
As the demonic path had recently flourished, the Righteous Martial Alliance had been raising eighteen joint heirs under the name Great Righteous Experts.
So the Demon Hall, not to be outdone, announced the Ten Demonic Heirs Plan.
—Regardless of faction, we will select ten prodigies and pass on the martial arts of the Demonic Path Ten Gates!
When the Ten Demonic Heirs Plan spread, the Demonic Path Murim instantly boiled over.
—Let's go, to the Demon Hall!
The Demonic Path Ten Gates, called the ten pillars supporting the demonic path.
To be able to freely learn peerless arts that tore the sky and shook the earth!
Even disciples of demonic path factions who had previously thought poorly of the Demon Hall, and even the sons of prominent families, all flocked to the Demon Hall.
Because of this, the gate guards of the Demon Hall were stuck performing guard duty until their shift change.
"Another day goes by like this."
Mo Gwang, who had been gazing at the sun slowly setting, muttered, and his colleague Jang Sam nodded.
"Starting tomorrow, it should get a bit quieter."
But far off in the distance, with the sunset at his back, a small shadow was trudging along.
It was a gaunt boy carrying a bundle on his back.
"Hmm?"
Mo Gwang, who had been watching the boy, rubbed his eyes.
The boy's clothes, with his hair disheveled, were torn like rags.
His shoes were nearly worn through, and blood was caked on the soles of his feet.
The clothes he wore were the vestments undertakers wore when performing rites, and on his back hung a bamboo box for carrying funeral supplies and a peachwood sword.
"Did someone die?"
"Die? Who would die, man. The Ten Demonic Heirs Tournament hasn't even started yet."
Mo Gwang, who had scolded him, muttered.
"And who would hire a young undertaker like that in a place like our Demon Hall?"
"R-right?"
Jang Sam, standing beside him, also opened his mouth with a bewildered expression.
"But what's with that appearance? He looks like a living corpse."
His disheveled hair practically covered his eyes, and his lips were so cracked that blood was dripping from them.
It looked as though one would end up in such a state only after walking without rest for three or four months.
Trudge, trudge.
The boy, who had been moving his steps slowly, finally arrived before the main gate.
Slowly.
The boy, Bu Eun-seol, who had been looking up at the grand gate of the Demon Hall, clenched both fists.
'Grandfather.'
His once-clouded eyes were now burning with a blood-red glow.
'It begins now.'
After burying his grandfather in a sunny spot, Bu Eun-seol tidied up the inside of Peaceful Burial House.
Because their household had been so modest, aside from the ritual items, all that remained were Bu Jan-yang's vestments and peachwood sword.
And a bamboo box that could hold various ritual tools.
"Hm?"
Bu Eun-seol, who had been packing the box containing his grandfather's only mementos—the vestments and peachwood sword—blinked when he discovered a small box placed neatly beside it.
"What's this?"
When he opened the box, inside were vestments that fit Bu Eun-seol's body perfectly and a pair of small peach wood swords.
"..."
Bu Jan-yang had already purchased the vestments and peachwood sword. For Bu Eun-seol's upcoming birthday.
—Happy birthday.
Bu Eun-seol, who had been staring at the box containing a short note, broke down sobbing once more.
"Grandfather."
Clutching the box tightly to his chest, Bu Eun-seol wept with bated breath.
The kindest grandfather in the world.
The grandfather who had filled this cold world with warmth.
The most beloved grandfather in the world, Bu Jan-yang, was no longer in this world.
"Revenge... I will definitely have revenge!"
Bu Eun-seol's eyes, as he cried out while clutching the box, were dyed blood-red.
Bu Eun-seol, who had possessed a childlike, unblemished purity.
But when his grandfather was brutally murdered, that transparent purity had transformed into revenge and madness.
Having finished all the tidying, he put on the vestments his grandfather had left behind and shouldered the bamboo box.
"I must learn martial arts."
The murderer who killed his grandfather was certainly a master of the demonic path.
If so, he must go to where the demonic people gather. And he must learn martial arts that can shatter Demonic Path Martial Arts.
The answer for him was already decided.
"The Demon Hall."
The Demon Hall—the treasure house of Demonic Path Martial Arts and the gathering place of demonic masters.
Moreover, wasn't the Demon Hall currently holding the Ten Demonic Heirs Tournament, gathering peerless prodigies eighteen years of age or younger to pass on martial arts?
This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
"What business brings you here?"
At the low voice, Bu Eun-seol awakened from his reminiscence.
"I have come to participate in the Ten Demonic Heirs Tournament."
Mo Gwang, who had been looking down at Bu Eun-seol in his vestments, sighed and pointed to the guestbook.
"Write in the guestbook."
When Bu Eun-seol picked up the brush and wrote only his name, Mo Gwang spoke.
"Write your sect affiliation as well."
'A sect...'
He had never even formally learned martial arts, let alone belonged to a sect.
After a moment of hesitation, Bu Eun-seol lifted the brush again and wrote in a single fluid stroke.
—Jan Yang-pa, Bu Eun-seol.
Mo Gwang and Jang Sam, who had been looking down at the guestbook, exchanged bitter smiles.
—Another sect of drifters has sent a disciple.
After the Ten Demonic Heirs Plan became known, not only the prominent sects of the Demonic Path but even disciples of third-rate sects from remote backwaters had flocked to the Demon Hall.
Yet the reason the Demon Hall's interior was not filled to capacity was precisely because of this.
"Then read this and stamp your fingerprint."
Mo Gwang held out a single sheet of paper placed beside the guestbook.
When Bu Eun-seol took the paper, this was what was written on it.
—...Omitted...To eliminate any room for dispute, the entire body of one who applies to the Ten Demonic Heirs belongs to the Main Hall.
Therefore, even if one should lose one's life...omitted...
In short, once one applied to the Ten Demonic Heirs, whether one died in training or was beaten to death by the instructors.
It was a kind of physical waiver agreement that made it absolutely impossible to raise any objection.
'There's no way he'll stamp it.'
Mo Gwang, watching Bu Eun-seol, wore a sneer.
Until now, countless drifters had come to the Demon Hall, but upon seeing the contents of the memorandum, they had all turned away.
Unless one was out of one's mind or mad for martial arts, there was no way one would sign a memorandum surrendering one's body.
Crack.
But Bu Eun-seol, without hesitation, bit his finger, drew blood, and stamped his fingerprint.
'A, a madman.'
When Mo Gwang met Bu Eun-seol's coldly still eyes, he felt as if the hair on his head was standing on end.
"May I enter?"
"G, go in."
Once inside, Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath.
'So this is the Demon Hall.'
Because he had heard it was a place where masters of the Demonic Path gathered, he had imagined something like a den of demons, a haunt of demons.
But the interior was grand and dignified, and on the other hand, an atmosphere as solemn as a Buddhist temple even flowed through it.
Murmur, murmur.
After walking for a long while, the sound of many people chattering could be heard from somewhere.
Following the direction of the sound, he saw a large training ground.
There, people as numerous as clouds were lined up, and at the end of the training ground, a high platform had been erected.
"..."
Upon the platform stood a muscular old man with hair hanging down like a lion's mane, and behind him, a middle-aged man with a clean impression stood tall.
Zing.
At that moment, a low sound rang out from a gong installed on the training ground.
As the noisy clamor that had filled the training ground subsided, the muscular old man standing tall on the training ground spoke calmly.
"I am the Chief Instructor, Hyeokryeon Eung."
At that instant, the inside of the training ground stirred.
Golden Arm Blood Eye, Hyeokryeon Eung.
He was the leader of the Demon Hall's Guardians' Faction, and for the successful operation of the Ten Demonic Heirs, he had lowered his status to become the Chief Instructor.
From this point alone, one could glimpse how heavily the Demon Hall regarded the Ten Demonic Heirs Plan.
"This is a place for selecting the Number One Genius of the Demon Path."
Hyeokryeon Eung's voice was not loud, but it carried profound internal energy, so the participants could hear his voice clearly.
"That is, only by passing all the gates created by the Main Hall can one formally become a candidate for the Ten Demonic Heirs."
After sweeping his gaze over the participants densely filling the training ground, he spoke again.
"From now on, the masters of the Medicine King Faction will examine your bone and muscle structure."
No sooner had he finished speaking than dozens of physicians revealed themselves from behind the platform.
"And only those chosen by them can become Ten Demonic Heirs."
At those words, the training ground stirred once more.
In particular, the sons of prestigious Demonic Path families began to openly protest.
—Examining bone and muscle structure is a gate? Does that make any sense?
—Hold a martial arts tournament instead!
Whether the murmuring grew louder or not, the physicians of the Medicine King Faction began thinning out the children with good bone and muscle structure.
Before he knew it, a gaunt physician approached Bu Eun-seol as well.
"...!"
The physician flinched in surprise upon seeing Bu Eun-seol wearing a vestment.
"A Corpse Handling Sect member, is it?"
The physician frowned, then immediately examined his body thoroughly with sharp eyes and lightly felt his shoulders, back, and legs.
"Not this one."
The physician, muttering quietly, passed Bu Eun-seol by just like that.
'As expected.'
Bu Eun-seol narrowed his eyes.
All he had ever learned was how to wash corpses. It would have been stranger if he had been judged to have a bone and muscle structure suited for martial arts.
'But it won't end like this.'
Bu Eun-seol was certain.
That the physicians examining bone and muscle structure was not the end of the entry procedure.
If it were, there would be no reason to collect guestbooks and memorandums and gather the participants here.
"The First Gate is over!"
As all those chosen by the physicians moved away, a silence like death itself flowed over the training ground.
The children selected from the training ground, which appeared to be a thousand pyeong, numbered fewer than two hundred.
"How can this be!"
At that moment, a boy standing at the front of the training ground cried out as if wronged.
"If you're selecting Ten Demonic Heirs just by examining bone and muscle structure, then you should send the Medicine King Faction's physicians to each sect—why hold a tournament at all?"
The boy's words were reasonable.
"There are two reasons."
Hyeokryeon Eung, looking down at the boy, spoke calmly.
"Above all, the most important thing in learning martial arts is bone and muscle structure. The Main Hall held this tournament to find not only the disciples and successors of great sects, but also strange talents who do not belong to any sect, all at once."
"But..."
"The second reason is to select peerless prodigies who, even if their bone and muscle structure is not good, can learn martial arts well."
At that moment, the expressions of the boys and girls on the training ground brightened.
In the end, wasn't there a second opportunity?
"From now on, I will begin the Second Gate."
Hyeokryeon Eung grinned as he looked at the participants below the training ground.
"From now on, you will fight. And survive."