Chapter 360
"Hmm."
Wi Ji-mua, who had been savoring the lingering aroma of tea while observing Bu Eun-seol standing before him, slowly opened his eyes.
When their gazes met, hundreds of thoughts simultaneously arose in Bu Eun-seol's mind.
This wasn't a deliberate attack on his spirit and mind—rather, it occurred because Wi Ji-mua's eyes maintained a state of perfect emptiness, embodying absolute void.
The Profound Demon.
The Foremost Demonic Sword among the Three Demons, renowned for wielding the most mysterious power.
Surprisingly, he appeared as a youthful middle-aged man despite his age.
"Hyesang, that old man praised you to the skies... Indeed..."
Wi Ji-mua examined Bu Eun-seol with his mysteriously glimmering eyes.
"Brother Ak must have been beside himself with joy. To think a vessel capable of inheriting the power of Phantom Restoration Return and Purified Spirit Transformation has appeared."
The moment he heard those words, Bu Eun-seol felt something peculiar.
An intuition told him that Langya Pavilion's leader, Ak Mu-ryeong, and Fire Rain Sword Sect's leader, Wi Ji-mua, had clashed numerous times—and their victories were split perfectly down the middle.
"Your features are as divine as a sacred dragon—women must line up for you. Truly, a dragon among men."
As Wi Ji-mua lavished yet another round of praise, Bu Eun-seol finally gathered his wits and clasped his hands in greeting.
"Langya Pavilion disciple Bu Eun-seol pays his respects to the Sect Leader."
Originally, Bu Eun-seol had intended to assert his status as the Martial Soul Lord.
He had never planned to bow his waist to anyone from the start.
But witnessing Wi Ji-mua's unpretentious demeanor, a sense of reverence spontaneously arose within him.
"Indeed. How fares life at the Demon Hall?"
"With everyone's help, I manage to get by without much trouble."
"Ho ho ho. To say life at the Demon Hall suits your tastes—you must not enjoy tea."
Wi Ji-mua treated Bu Eun-seol with the familiarity of an old friend from the martial world.
"The only one there who savors tea is that crimson-faced old geezer. The rest just brew tasteless Dragon Well Tea."
Bu Eun-seol found Wi Ji-mua's tone so lighthearted that...
It took him a while to realize "that crimson-faced old geezer" referred to the Blood Demon Jeok Bung.
"Wait here a moment. I'll brew you a cup potent enough to truly open my eyes."
Without even waiting for a reply, he turned and began steeping the tea leaves.
In all that time, Bu Eun-seol had never seen anyone personally brew tea before.
"Young man, are you aware that the tea-making process resembles martial arts training?"
Wi Ji-mua moved his hands continuously as he spoke in a composed voice.
"From roasting the freshly plucked leaves, one needs intense concentration. The leaves must be heated thoroughly—yet the temperature must be controlled to avoid scorching."
Then, as if singing an unsolicited tale, he continued in a humming tone.
"Precisely adjusting the fire's intensity while maintaining the perfect temperature for the leaves moment by moment—this task is as demanding as it gets."
Clack.
Wi Ji-mua turned and spoke again.
"The roasted leaves must be spread out to evenly distribute moisture and shape the tea. Typically, this process is repeated eight or nine times before roasting once more to deepen the fragrance."
Offering Bu Eun-seol a small teacup, Wi Ji-mua grinned.
"Only through repeating such arduous labor does proper tea emerge."
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
Though Wi Ji-mua had described the tea-roasting process, he had actually expounded on the principles of martial arts.
It closely mirrored Bu Eun-seol's own approach—cultivating martial arts even while eating or sleeping.
"Here, have a taste."
Without declining, Bu Eun-seol raised the cup and drank.
An enigmatic flavor.
Just as a crisp, grassy freshness touched his senses, a rich, smoky aroma saturated his nostrils.
"How does it taste?"
Wi Ji-mua observed Bu Eun-seol's every movement from start to finish with burning intensity.
His demeanor was no different from the martial world's superlative experts who delighted in serving tea and soliciting reviews.
"I'm not well-versed in tea flavors."
Bu Eun-seol answered honestly.
"I've never properly enjoyed tea before."
"Naturally."
Wi Ji-mua studied Bu Eun-seol's eyes with a tense expression.
"But surely even you have personal tastes? Just share whatever comes to mind."
After briefly contemplating the teacup, Bu Eun-seol replied in a low voice:
"Both a fresh and a mature aroma emerge simultaneously."
Wi Ji-mua's eyes flashed before he murmured:
"Too abstract. Please elaborate further if possible."
Though unique, the flavor held no particular appeal for Bu Eun-seol. But with the Profound Demon of the martial world leaning in expectantly, he had no choice but to elaborate.
"To express it in detail... It's as if a maiden steeped in purity and a courtesan lost in drunken dreams are dancing together in harmony."
"A maiden of purity and a courtesan lost in drunken dreams dancing together."
Suddenly, Wi Ji-mua burst into hearty laughter.
"Ha ha ha ha!"
After laughing for a while, he nodded at Bu Eun-seol.
"You not only don't enjoy tea—you actively dislike it. Isn't that so?"
"To be frank, yes."
"But how refreshing. A remarkably refreshing description."
Wi Ji-mua smiled faintly.
"In my eighty years of tea appreciation, I've never heard such brilliantly inventive phrasing."
Wi Ji-mua was a master who had attained complete mastery over tea.
He likely knew countless expressions describing the fragrance and essence of tea.
And precisely because of that, Bu Eun-seol's crude, tea-ignorant phrasing must have struck him as refreshingly novel.
"This tea was grown and harvested by this old man himself, from the very first leaf to the last."
Strangely enough, the leader of the Fire Rain Sword Sect referred to himself not as Sect Leader, but as this old man.
"That is why these tea leaves contain not just my martial arts, but my very spirit and mind."
Wi Ji-mua smiled faintly as he spoke.
"Would you care to take another sip?"
Something strange happened.
The moment Bu Eun-seol heard that the tea leaves contained martial arts and spiritual essence, the lingering fragrance in his mouth transformed entirely.
Gulp.
Bu Eun-seol drank another mouthful.
And then—
The tea liquid seemed to slash at his tongue like a blade, only to suddenly soften and soothe the wound it had just inflicted.
With just a few words, Wi Ji-mua had seized control of both Bu Eun-seol's spirit and his physical senses.
'This... is the Martial Extreme Realm of the Profound Demon.'
As the tea slid down his throat, Bu Eun-seol realized two things.
First—that Wi Ji-mua was a man of terrifying purity, and that very purity made him all the more fearsome.
Second—that even when compared to Ak Mu-ryeong, the Human Demon who had once clashed alone with the Demonic Heavenly Emperor, Wi Ji-mua's martial prowess was in no way inferior.
'The Pavilion Lord's Phantom Restoration directly struck only the spirit.'
But Wi Ji-mua, with just a single phrase, had effortlessly seized control of not just Bu Eun-seol's spirit, but his very flesh.
'Does that mean he stands a step above even the Pavilion Lord, who could face the Demonic Heavenly Emperor?'
This was strange.
The world ranked the Three Demons in this order: the Human Demon, the Profound Demon, and the Blood Demon.
But now, to Bu Eun-seol's eyes, the Profound Demon's martial prowess seemed undeniably superior.
'If the world's evaluation was wrong, the Pavilion Lord would never have tolerated it—no matter who else accepted it.'
The Langya Pavilion Lord's hunger for victory in pursuit of the Martial Way was unmatched by any other.
Had he believed himself weaker than the Profound Demon?
Then he would have fought Wi Ji-mua to the death—not the Demonic Heavenly Emperor—just to settle the matter.
'Which means...'
A terrifying thought flashed through Bu Eun-seol's mind.
What if Wi Ji-mua's power wasn't just about dominating others' spirits and bodies—but about perfect mastery over his own?
If that were true, then Wi Ji-mua, even now as he breathed, was growing endlessly stronger.
Because every moment, he could freely command his own spirit and flesh.
"You sent me quite the gift."
Clack.
Wi Ji-mua placed a dagger on the table.
Its blade was short, but its hilt was elongated, like that of a great saber.
It was none other than the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade Bu Jan-yang's beloved weapon—Journey.
"Now, let us hear your story."
A flash of light flickered in Wi Ji-mua's eyes.
"Speak."
Those two words carried countless implications.
And Bu Eun-seol instinctively understood two more things.
First—if his answer failed to satisfy, Wi Ji-mua would shed his gentle facade and reveal himself as the Great Demon he truly was.
Second—his status as the Heir of the Demon Hall would offer him no protection whatsoever.
"The Deputy Hall Lord is alive."
In that instant, a glacial energy surged from Wi Ji-mua's eyes.
The air inside the room condensed into freezing cold, as if they had been plunged into the heart of a glacier in the blink of an eye.
"He is alive?"
"Yes."
"How amusing."
Wi Ji-mua still wore a warm smile, but his pupils crackled with ceaseless blue lightning.
The pressure was suffocating.
With just one sentence, Bu Eun-seol had torn away the soft mask of Wi Ji-mua's face.
"If he lives, it would mean great fortune for the Demonic Path Murim."
Wi Ji-mua chuckled and shook his head.
"But that cannot be, can it?"
"How strange. Is the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade not allowed to be alive?"
Wi Ji-mua's gaze turned peculiar for a moment.
"Setting aside the fact that his trail vanished thirty years ago—this dagger is a fake, is it not?"
His sharp eyes bore into Bu Eun-seol's.
"Surely you don't think this old man wouldn't recognize the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade's weapon?"
"Of course, I have other proof."
"Then show me."
"On one condition."
"A condition?"
Bu Eun-seol spoke flatly.
"Lift the Restrictive Seal on Hall Lord Cheon Un-gwang."
"Cheon Un-gwang?"
"I heard he was subjected to the cruel Wall Gazing Penalty solely for teaching me the Peerless Thunderbolt Form."
Bu Eun-seol's voice was low.
"If you release Hall Lord Cheon from his seal and allow me to meet him, I will show you proof that the Deputy Hall Lord lives."
Wi Ji-mua's gaze deepened.
Cheon Un-gwang was just an excuse. Only now did he realize the true reason Bu Eun-seol had come.
Rumors that Bu Eun-seol was tracking the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade's whereabouts had already spread like wildfire among the Demonic Path Ten Gates.
And the Fire Rain Sword Sect had used his own birthday banquet as a pretext to uncover Bu Eun-seol's true intentions.
Wi Ji-mua had allowed it, watching silently.
He, too, had been curious—why was Bu Eun-seol chasing the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade? What was his plan?
He had even considered killing him if necessary.
But Bu Eun-seol had done something entirely unexpected. He had brought the long-lost blade of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade out of nowhere.
And with that, not only Wi Hyeok-gun's schemes—but even the plans Wi Ji-mua himself had laid—were shattered in an instant.
"This was merely a troublesome ploy to draw me out, wasn't it?"
Clink.
As Wi Ji-mua's gaze shifted, a clear metallic sound resonated from the fake Yeoro resting on the table.
"Whether this is a counterfeit or the real thing, no one but this old man could handle such a matter."
"You are correct. This was nothing more than an object meant to summon the Sect Leader."
"You are reckless."
There was a hint of praise in Wi Ji-mua's words.
Bu Eun-seol responded frankly.
"Wouldn't it be beneficial if this opportunity allowed me to establish a favorable relationship with the Sect Leader?"
If Wi Ji-mua were to lift Cheon Un-gwang's punishment at Bu Eun-seol's request, rumors would spread that the Fire Rain Sword Sect and Bu Eun-seol shared a close bond.
The Fire Rain Sword Sect was the foremost among the Demonic Path's factions.
Bu Eun-seol intended to use this chance to forge a connection with Wi Ji-mua and secure the sect's support.
"Let me be blunt."
Wi Ji-mua sipped his tea and spoke indifferently.
"This old man has little interest in the sect's internal affairs or the shifting tides of Murim."
Then, rather than looking at Bu Eun-seol, he gazed into empty space and continued.
"It is not I who find you disagreeable, but the disciples of this sect."
"As long as you do not corner this sect, I have no intention of taking any initiative against you. Do you understand?"
—No matter what a fledgling like you does, I have no interest in it.
That was what Wi Ji-mua was saying.
He had no interest in Bu Eun-seol—only in the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade. Even if Bu Eun-seol tried to build a rapport with him, the Fire Rain Sword Sect's stance would remain unchanged.
He had drawn a clear line.
"That is quite a relief."
Despite the cold response, Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly, as if reassured.
"I had been under the impression that the Sect Leader viewed me unfavorably, so I was deeply concerned."
"But now that you've said as much, my mind is at ease."
—Profound Demon, it seems that apart from you, no one in the Fire Rain Sword Sect can truly trouble me.
That was what Bu Eun-seol was implying.
"Hohoho. Hahahaha!"
Wi Ji-mua suddenly burst into laughter.
"Thirty years ago, after Brother Bu disappeared, the Demonic Path Murim became dreary and monotonous."
The "Brother Bu" Wi Ji-mua mentioned undoubtedly referred to the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade, Bu Jan-yang.
"But now that someone resembling Brother Bu is stirring up the Demonic Path again... it seems something worth watching will unfold."
At last, Wi Ji-mua nodded slightly, as if genuinely intrigued by Bu Eun-seol.
"Let this old man offer you one piece of advice."
"I shall listen with my ears cleansed."
"Never underestimate this sect. Especially the potential of Hye-sang—even I, his master, cannot rashly predict his limits."
For a moment, Bu Eun-seol felt something strange.
It was widely known that the Fire Rain Sword Sect was currently led by the Chief Instructor, Wi Hyeok-gun—the Sword Demon.
Like Dan Cheong of Langya Pavilion, he oversaw all major and minor affairs of the sect.
Moreover, as the "Sword Demon," his swordsmanship was considered unrivaled in the Demonic Path.
In contrast, the successor, Wi Ji-hye-sang, would need at least another decade to seize control of the sect.
Yet Wi Ji-mua had named Wi Ji-hye-sang as Bu Eun-seol's potential rival.
What could be the reason?
"It was a pleasure meeting you."
With that, Wi Ji-mua dismissed him as though their business was concluded.
Bu Eun-seol tilted his head slightly.
"Do I not need to present proof?"
"You already have."
Wi Ji-mua smiled faintly.
"If you truly believe that no one in this sect but me can oppose you... then you must have inherited Brother Bu's legacy."
Then he added nonchalantly,
"Whether you met him in person or merely inherited his legacy, I do not know. But given that you spread rumors through intelligence networks to track his traces... you must be scheming something else. As expected of the Heir of the Demon Hall."
In that instant, Bu Eun-seol regretted two things.
First, he had not realized Wi Ji-mua was such an extraordinary figure.
Second, by lying about the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade being alive, he had lost the chance to ask Wi Ji-mua about him.
'It couldn't be helped.'
Once he entered the Fire Rain Sword Sect, meeting Wi Ji-mua was inevitable.
Even Bu Eun-seol could not have predicted everything perfectly.
"Then I shall take my leave."
Bu Eun-seol clasped his hands and stepped out.
As he descended the hill, dozens of sect members stood waiting.
"I am Nam Poong-gwan, Vice Hall Master of the Discipline Hall."
A middle-aged man at the forefront, Nam Poong-gwan, clasped his hands toward Bu Eun-seol.
"I shall guide you to where Hall Master Cheon is."
Bu Eun-seol's conversation with Wi Ji-mua and his descent had taken less than a quarter of an hour.
Yet these men spoke as if they had heard everything.
'As expected of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.'
They were issuing a warning.
The moment he stepped into the sect, every word and action was under surveillance.
There was no escaping their gaze.
'Sect Leader Wi truly has no interest in sect affairs.'
To dare plant eyes and ears in the Sect Leader's quarters—Bu Eun-seol smiled bitterly and shook his head.
"Very well. Lead the way."
Nam Poong-gwan guided Bu Eun-seol to a deep forest located at the western gate of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
Passing by a small waterfall, they arrived at a sunlit clearing where a modest thatched cottage stood.
It was the kind of place perfectly suited for an old man who had turned his back on the world.
"Then."
Having fulfilled his duty, Nam Poong-gwan clasped his hands and departed.
Bu Eun-seol walked slowly toward the cottage.
"Excuse me."
As he stood before the cottage, the door opened, and a middle-aged man in gray martial robes stepped out.
His long hair was carelessly tied up, and a scruffy beard covered his face.
But his eyes blazed so fiercely it felt like staring into the roar of a tiger.
This was Cheon Un-gwang.