Chapter 359
The Fire Rain Sword Sect.
This place, called the Number One Sect of the Demonic Path, was located near the Stone Gate region of the Qinling Mountains.
The Qinling Mountains served as a natural fortress, an impregnable stronghold, and the valleys and rivers formed within them provided abundant food supplies.
It was a place without a single flaw for establishing a grand martial sect.
Clatter clatter.
A carriage bearing the Twin Dragons Contending for the Pearl Flag—the symbol of the Demon Hall—rolled down the official road.
After traveling at speed for some time, the carriage gradually slowed. A massive fortress standing atop a large hill had come into view.
That was none other than the Fire Rain Sword Sect, renowned as the Number One Sect of the Demonic Path.
However, several li before reaching the entrance of the Fire Rain Sword Sect, martial artists carrying swords stood blocking the path.
They were the guards of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
"Halt!"
The guards stationed along the path intercepted the carriage carrying Bu Eun-seol.
Screech—
As the carriage stopped, the guard at the forefront spoke with a solemn expression.
"From this point onward, you must proceed on foot."
"What nonsense is this?"
A bearded man seated in the driver's seat scowled.
He had a sturdy build, twin swords strapped to his back, and eyes blazing with an overbearing energy.
It was none other than Won Se-mun.
"This carriage carries the Heir of the Demon Hall, the Martial Soul Lord."
"It matters not who you are. To enter our sect, you must dismount and proceed on foot from this point."
"You expect us to abandon a perfectly good carriage and walk?"
"That is the law of our sword sect. Have you truly never heard of it?"
As if to prove the guard's words, countless members of the Demonic Path visiting the Fire Rain Sword Sect were forming long lines as they ascended the hill on foot.
"Madness. Is this Wudang Mountain?"
An ordinary person would have naturally dismounted, but their opponent was none other than Won Se-mun—the most unruly troublemaker of the Demon Hall.
To him, the solemn rules of the Number One Sect of the Demonic Path were nothing more than empty noise.
"What do you mean by that?"
As the guard frowned, Won Se-mun snorted.
"Why not just build a Sword Release Pond and demand we leave our weapons too?"
"Are you disregarding our sect's laws right now?"
"Laws should be enforced based on who stands before you, no?"
When the guards tensed their eyes, Won Se-mun bared his teeth and retorted,
"Would you dare tell the Demonic Heavenly Emperor or the leaders of the Demonic Path Ten Gates to walk as well?"
For a moment, the guards were at a loss for words.
No matter how strict the rules of the Number One Sword Sect of the Demonic Path were, they could never be enforced upon the Number One of the Demonic Path, who commanded the Million Demon Blades, or the leaders of the Demonic Path Ten Gates.
"But the Martial Soul Lord is neither the Demonic Heavenly Emperor nor one of the Ten Gates' leaders."
As the guard stammered, Won Se-mun exploded.
"What difference does it make? Even setting aside his status as the heir, the Lord ranks within the top ten of the Demon Hall's ceremonial hierarchy!"
Seeing Won Se-mun shouting at the top of his lungs, the guards panicked and exchanged uneasy glances.
This wasn't part of the plan.
In truth, the guards had been instructed that if the carriage of Bu Eun-seol, the Martial Soul Lord, arrived, they were to ensure he dismounted and walked.
—He has a refined temperament, so he will surely comply. And we must let the martial artists ascending to our sect witness this.
But contrary to expectations, some lunatic ruffian had stepped forward and was now disrupting everything.
"If your eyes are crooked, you should at least have your ears properly unclogged! How dare you tell the Lord to dismount and walk? Do you have a death wish?"
Now that outright insults were pouring out, the guards' eyes blazed with righteous fury.
"What did you just say?"
Even as mere guards, these were martial artists of the Fire Rain Sword Sect—the Number One Sect of the Demonic Path.
Their pride was on a level incomparable even to the guards of the Demon Hall.
"Have you come here to pick a fight with our sect?"
Killing intent flickered in the guard's eyes.
In response, Won Se-mun lashed out like thunder.
"Dogs guarding a gate should act like dogs! How dare you glare at people like that?"
"Dogs?!"
The guards' faces flushed crimson.
In all their years serving as guards of the Fire Rain Sword Sect, had they ever encountered such a madman?
Creak—
At that moment, the carriage door opened, and a tall, striking figure stepped out.
Bu Eun-seol.
"My Lord—"
As Bu Eun-seol emerged, Won Se-mun waved both hands to stop him.
"Please stay inside. I'll pluck out every last one of this insolent bastard's teeth and have the carriage moving again in no time."
"Enough."
Bu Eun-seol raised a hand to silence him.
"Have you not heard the saying, When in Rome? Since we've come to another's land, we should follow its customs."
"My Lord..."
"It is the Sect Leader's seventieth birthday celebration. Let us ascend without causing a disturbance."
The expressions of the guards twisted in an instant.
That madman had escalated the situation, yet the Martial Soul Lord had seamlessly maintained his dignity as if he had been waiting for this very moment.
Thanks to that, even if they had to disembark and proceed on foot, not a shred of their prestige was tarnished.
'As expected, how pettily cunning.'
Bu Eun-seol inwardly clicked his tongue as he looked down at the guards.
The Fire Rain Sword Sect was the foremost among the demonic sects, and its sect leader, the Profound Demon, was one of the Three Demons—an absolute master at the Martial Extreme Realm.
And yet, they resorted to such disgraceful behavior?
Moreover, the Sword Demon Wi Hyeok-gun, their Chief Instructor, had once unleashed his Formless Qi upon Bu Eun-seol, who had only just begun learning martial arts on Hell Island.
And hadn't they tried to forbid him from wielding a sword simply because he had mastered Cheon Un-gwang's Peerless Thunderbolt?
—The Fire Rain Sword Sect had always been underhanded. From the moment they arrived, they would surely stir up trouble to undermine the dignity of the Martial Soul Lord.
Yu Un-ryong's prediction had been precise.
And Bu Eun-seol's solution to this was none other than Won Se-mun.
Won Se-mun was the kind of man who feared neither heaven nor earth—a true reckless ruffian in every sense.
Even if a blade were pressed to his throat, his unruly nature would not yield in the slightest.
There was no one more suited to counter the Fire Rain Sword Sect's petty schemes than him.
'And there's something only Won Se-mun can do.'
Just as Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly and lost himself in thought—
"Since the Lord has spoken, you'd better consider yourselves lucky!"
Won Se-mun was still berating the guards as if swatting flies.
They had nothing to say in return and averted their gazes.
"Take good care of our carriage!"
Dissatisfied with their attitude, Won Se-mun thundered once more.
"If even a single scratch appears, I'll pull out as many of your teeth as there are blemishes. Understood?!"
Shudder.
The guards trembled with rage, yet none dared to resist.
"Understood."
It wasn't Won Se-mun they feared—it was the Martial Soul Lord standing behind him, whose name alone shook the martial world.
"What are you all gaping at? Hurry up and escort the Lord!"
At Won Se-mun's bark, the guard on the left bit his lip and extended a hand.
"Please follow me."
Bu Eun-seol and Won Se-mun followed the guard into the depths of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
The guard led them up a hill.
A broad road reminiscent of Chengdu and splendidly constructed pavilions came into view.
The Fire Rain Sword Sect, said to house over ten thousand martial artists within its gates alone—its interior was like a scaled-down version of the Demon Hall.
'Indeed. The Fire Rain Sword Sect.'
Since its founding, the sect had never once relinquished its title as the foremost among demonic sects.
As if to prove it, the sect's interior exuded a grand and solemn atmosphere, with every passing martial artist radiating razor-sharp energy.
'Soon, I'll have my confirmation.'
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed.
This visit would allow him to see past the veil that had long obscured the true state of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
The pettiness unbefitting of the "foremost demonic sect."
Was it due to the orders of the Profound Demon, one of the Three Demons?
Or was it the crude temperament of the Chief Instructor, the Sword Demon Wi Hyeok-gun, who handled the sect's practical affairs?
"You may ascend that way."
The pavilion the guard pointed to had its doors wide open, with a line of martial artists winding like a serpent.
They were guests who had brought gifts to celebrate the Profound Demon Wi Ji-mua's seventieth birthday.
The procession stretched endlessly, extending from outside the great gates all the way inside.
Beyond them, a grand feast was underway—even a glance revealed a dense gathering of high-ranking figures rarely seen even in the Demon Hall.
It was a moment that made the rumors of the sect being the "Second Demon Hall" feel all too real.
'As expected.'
The saying—"In the Demon Hall, the Demonic Heavenly Emperor reigns; in the martial world, the Fire Rain Sword Sect Leader rules"—had not been passed down in vain.
"Martial Soul Lord."
Just then, a middle-aged man exuding a sharp aura, followed by a dozen disciples, stood rigidly behind Bu Eun-seol.
Wi Hyeok-gun.
A man who bore the epithet Sword Demon, signifying his status as the foremost swordsman of the demonic path.
And the same petty man who, during their time on Hell Island, had poured his Formless Qi upon Bu Eun-seol simply because he refused to join the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
"It's been a while, Chief Instructor Wi."
Bu Eun-seol clasped his hands indifferently, as if greeting some passing elder, not the Chief Instructor of the great Fire Rain Sword Sect, the Sword Demon Wi Hyeok-gun.
At that, Wi Hyeok-gun's thick brows twitched.
"I've been lamenting ever since I heard of the Lord's fame shaking the martial world. That we let you slip through our grasp on Hell Island."
Though his words were polite, his eyes held not a trace of warmth.
Far from being a compliment, his eyes gleamed with contempt.
How could a man like this inherit the title of Sword Demon?
Bu Eun-seol couldn't help but sigh.
In the Demonic Path, the title of Sword Demon had always been bestowed upon the most exceptional swordsmen—those who wielded the blade with unparalleled mastery.
In the past, the epithet had belonged to Wi Ji-mua, the master of the Fire Rain Sword Sect. Now, it had been passed down to Wi Hyeok-gun.
But how could such a petty, narrow-minded man have reached the pinnacle of swordsmanship and inherited that name?
Bu Eun-seol simply couldn't comprehend it.
"It seems the Lord has brought something with him. There was no need for that."
Bu Eun-seol glanced at the bundle Won Se-mun, standing like an attendant, was holding.
"How could I possibly arrive empty-handed before the Sect Leader's birthday?"
"Hand it over. I will personally deliver it to our Sect Leader."
Though his words were polite, his demeanor suggested he was ready to tear open the bundle right then and there.
Now it was clear—he had come specifically to inspect the gift Bu Eun-seol had brought.
"Very well."
Though he saw through the man's intentions, Bu Eun-seol gave the order.
"Give it to the Chief Instructor."
"Yes."
Won Se-mun bowed his head and extended the bundle to Wi Hyeok-gun.
Thud.
The moment Wi Hyeok-gun felt the object inside the bundle, his eyes flashed.
No way—
He had immediately recognized it as a dagger of an extremely unique form.
The Seven Fingers Demonic Blade's...?
Wi Hyeok-gun was a master of the sword.
Just by the shape and texture of the blade through the cloth, he could discern its exact form, the materials it was forged from—everything.
"Escort the Lord to the banquet hall in the Coral Pavilion," Wi Hyeok-gun commanded a disciple standing nearby, his expression shifting.
Then, with a light clasp of his hands toward Bu Eun-seol, he said,
"Then, enjoy the feast."
Without another glance, he hurriedly retreated deeper into the sect grounds.
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed as he watched him leave.
No doubt, he was rushing to personally deliver the gift to the Fire Rain Sword Sect Leader.
The dice have been cast.
Turning his head, Bu Eun-seol followed the guiding disciple alongside Won Se-mun, stepping further into the hall.
But something was strange.
They passed by the area where the masters of the Demonic Path Murim were seated—yet they weren't being led to the main banquet hall.
"Where are we going?"
Won Se-mun asked, and the disciple guiding them replied,
"The Chief Instructor ordered me to escort you to the Coral Pavilion."
Before they knew it, the disciple had led them to a different banquet hall, one already in full swing.
Here, not a single prominent figure of the Demonic Path Murim could be seen.
Instead, only middle-aged men with greasy bellies were guzzling wine.
"Well then—"
The Fire Rain Sword Sect disciple hastily clasped his hands and departed.
The people inside the banquet hall blinked in surprise as Bu Eun-seol and Won Se-mun entered.
"Let's sit first."
Bu Eun-seol exchanged a brief, polite glance with them before taking a seat in the inner section.
The middle-aged men, struck by Bu Eun-seol's striking beauty and dignified bearing, approached with goodwill.
But when Won Se-mun—who looked like a mountain bandit—scowled and glared, they clicked their tongues and retreated to their seats.
"This seems to be a gathering for merchant group representatives."
Every single person here was discussing things like the atmosphere of the imperial court, the price of tea leaves, or the value of furs.
"My Lord, please wait a moment."
Won Se-mun rolled up his sleeves, his expression darkening.
"I'll flip this place upside down and get us properly escorted to the real banquet hall."
"There's no need to bother."
"Absolutely not."
Won Se-mun had the temperament of a reckless ruffian, but he wasn't stupid.
His expression hardened as he spoke.
"Just the rumor that the Lord drank at the same table as merchants would be enough for some bastards to spread disgraceful gossip."
Bu Eun-seol filled his wine cup to the brim, then shook his head.
"That won't be necessary."
"Huh?"
"The Sect Leader will soon summon me for a private audience."
"The Fire Rain Sword Sect Leader?"
"Correct."
Won Se-mun couldn't understand.
Right now, the Fire Rain Sword Sect was deliberately treating Bu Eun-seol with disrespect.
Yet Wi Ji-mua—a man who rarely showed himself even within the sect, let alone the martial world—was going to request a private meeting with Bu Eun-seol?
"Drink. Your throat must be parched from the long journey."
"Huh?"
"You'll have to drink anyway."
As Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly, Won Se-mun's lips twitched.
Loosening his belt, Won Se-mun tipped the wine bottle to his lips.
Gulp, gulp, gulp.
He wasn't the type to overcomplicate his thoughts, and he trusted Bu Eun-seol's judgment as firmly as bedrock.
Moreover, hadn't they been entrusted with a secret mission?
"The wine's empty!"
Having already drained all the bottles placed on the table without realizing it, he called out loudly for the attendants.
"This elder has a mighty tolerance—you'd best bring at least twenty bottles!"
The attendants, seeing Won Se-mun's fierce, tiger-like expression, scurried off in fright to fetch more wine.
"Allow me to pour you a drink, Lord."
Won Se-mun respectfully filled Bu Eun-seol's cup.
"No need to drink so quickly."
Bu Eun-seol replied indifferently, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"There's plenty to go around, after all."
Even so, few within the Fire Rain Sword Sect had the nerve to drink at such a relaxed pace.
But Won Se-mun was the kind of man who wouldn't so much as blink even if the Fire Rain Sword Sect were the Yama Hall itself—he could down liquor with unshaken boldness.
"True enough! Hahaha!"
Chuckling heartily, Won Se-mun pressed the bottle to his lips again.
"Gulp, gulp."
Now that Bu Eun-seol had given his permission,
he began downing wine without hesitation, one after another.
The wine prepared by the Fire Rain Sword Sect was the renowned White Measured Wine from the Eastern Wine House in Stone Gate, an extravagant brew costing over twenty taels per bottle.
Yet in less than the time it takes to eat a meal, Won Se-mun had emptied twenty bottles in one go. The attendants watching him turned visibly pale.
"Does no one in the Fire Rain Sword Sect know how to drink? Forget these puny bottles—bring out the whole barrel!"
At his words, the attendants exchanged troubled glances.
But when they met his piercing stare, they had no choice but to bring out a large cask filled with White Measured Wine.
Thud, thud.
Just then, two black-clad disciples of the Fire Rain Sword Sect hurried in and clasped their hands respectfully toward Bu Eun-seol.
"Lord, the Sect Leader requests a private audience."
At this, Won Se-mun's eyes widened mid-drink.
'He actually called for him?'
Rising from his seat, Bu Eun-seol sent a telepathic transmission to Won Se-mun.
"Drink your fill and follow the plan. No need for reckless actions."
"Leave your worries tied up tight."
Bu Eun-seol gave a slight nod to the disciples.
"Lead the way."
The rear garden of the Fire Rain Sword Sect held a small hill.
Ascending the steep slope, they came upon a modest house enclosed by a stone fence.
Beneath the drowsy sunlight, the faint fragrance of tea wafted from this unassuming dwelling.
From a distance, it resembled nothing more than a humble teahouse.
Yet the one who resided here was none other than the leader of the most powerful sect in the Demonic Path—a figure ranked among the top five absolute powerhouses of the demonic factions.
This was the abode of Wi Ji-mua, Sect Leader of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
'Unexpected.'
That the leader of the Fire Rain Sword Sect—the strongest single faction in the Demonic Path—dwelt in such a plain, insignificant house, alone no less?
And wasn't this supposed to be the time of his seventieth-birthday celebration?
"Then."
The disciples who had guided Bu Eun-seol to the door clasped their hands once more before withdrawing.
"Hmm."
After surveying his surroundings, Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath and stepped slowly past the fence.
Instantly, his pupils dilated slightly.
The moment he crossed inside, it felt as though he had stepped into an entirely different world.
'Merely passing through the fence, yet it feels completely severed from the mundane...'
Bu Eun-seol realized this phenomenon wasn't due to any boundary formation or special power—
but rather the presence of the man dwelling within that small house.
"Come in."
A low voice called out from inside.
It was not the voice of an old man, but a clear, resonant tone like that of a refined scholar reciting poetry.
"Enter."
As the gentle, subdued voice spoke again, Bu Eun-seol responded respectfully.
"Then I shall."
Carefully, he pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Contrary to its humble exterior, the interior was surprisingly spacious. At its center sat a kettle and brazier for boiling water.
On one side, porcelain vials containing well-dried tea leaves were neatly displayed.
'He must be fond of tea.'
The cool, dim space was perfectly suited for storing tea leaves.
Wi Ji-mua, Sect Leader of the Fire Rain Sword Sect, had likely built this house for the sole purpose of enjoying tea.
Slurp.
Though he had invited Bu Eun-seol in, the moment he entered, the host paid him no mind, eyes closed as he sipped tea.
'That is the Profound Demon.'
The Profound Demon, Wi Ji-mua.
Dressed in a long robe that reached his knees, a deep blue sash tied around his waist.
Had he been holding a folding fan instead of a teacup, one might have mistaken him for the Fire Rain Sword Sect's chief strategist.
The man who should have been the most sinister-looking of the Three Demons instead exuded the air of a refined scholar.