Chapter 4
In that moment, a cold wave seemed to sweep across the training ground.
Survive.
In the end, was this not a declaration that only one among the numerous prodigies would be chosen?
"How can there be such a rule?"
At that moment, a girl in green clothes standing near the middle cried out in a sharp voice.
"The prodigies gathered here are all fellow members of the Demonic Path. Are you telling us to slaughter each other?"
"Whether you fight or kill, that is for you to decide. You only need to become the victor and survive, by whatever means."
"Is that not what you are saying?"
"Leave if you do not like it."
Hyeokryeon Eung spoke flatly.
"There is no coercion. Both surrendering and participating are entirely free."
—Leave if you do not like it.
The girl in green clothes, having nothing left to say, closed her mouth.
When no one protested further, Hyeokryeon Eung nodded and spoke in a low voice.
"Then, begin."
Zing.
The gong installed on the training ground rang once more.
In that moment,
"Aaack!"
A scream burst from the center of the training ground.
A boy had drawn a short spear like lightning and attacked the person standing beside him.
"Red Dragon. Today, at last, I can kill you."
"Wi Un-cheong! You bastard..."
Wi Un-cheong and Red Dragon.
The two were sworn enemies, their grudge tangled with the enmity between their clans and schools. Wi Un-cheong had seized this chance to ambush Red Dragon and settle the score.
—Waaah!
As Red Dragon collapsed, bleeding, dozens of participants screamed.
Watching the scene, Hyeokryeon Eung nodded with a satisfied expression instead.
"Those who wish to leave, leave now. Once the fighting begins, there will be no opportunity to slip away."
But no one moved.
If one were selected as a Ten Demonic Heir and mastered the peerless arts, becoming the future Number One of the Demonic Path was no mere dream.
So how could anyone let slip such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Shing. Chang. CLANG!
Several people on the training ground drew their weapons and began to fight.
But the majority of participants still milled about with bewildered expressions.
Even if it was for the sake of selecting an outstanding individual, they had not expected such a cruel plan to be carried out without hesitation.
—The physical waiver agreement was not meant to frighten us!
Only now realizing the weight of the physical waiver agreement, a few participants turned and ran out of the training ground.
But most of the participants were swinging their weapons like madmen.
'Fools.'
Bu Eun-seol stood tall at the edge of the training ground with a cold expression.
Though he wore conspicuous vestments and even carried a bamboo basket, no one attacked him.
'They have lost their reason to the fear of death.'
Everyone on the training ground was attacking only the enemies nearest to them, like blind men.
Their reason had been paralyzed by the fear of death.
—Fight. And survive.
Those words did not necessarily mean to kill the other participants here.
It meant to endure to the end—and to hold on tenaciously, and survive.
'If they had listened calmly, none of this would have happened.'
Regrettably, most of the participants were young ones who had only just begun learning their schools' martial arts.
In contrast, Bu Eun-seol had enshrouded corpses every single day for a year without fail.
Because he had contemplated the meaning of the word "death" day after day, he felt no dread or fear of death whatsoever.
"Uwaaack!"
"Ghk!"
"Aack!"
Sharp screams gradually rang out from all directions.
Even the participants who had initially fought empty-handed, even those who had cheered each other on to do their best—before one knew it, they had drawn their weapons and begun unleashing killing moves.
'So they are not all fools.'
Far off in the distance, a boy with a pitch-black sword strapped to his back and a hero's headwrap tied around his forehead was also, like Bu Eun-seol, standing back at the outskirts of the training ground and calmly observing the fighting.
"Haap!"
At that moment, a boy who had been swinging a meteor hammer like lightning and laying waste to participants in all directions met Bu Eun-seol's gaze.
"...?"
Upon spotting the figure in pitch-black vestments carrying a bamboo box on his back, the boy flinched slightly.
But soon, seeing how Bu Eun-seol stood, he let out a snort.
"What a pathetic wretch!"
Those who have trained in martial arts keep their lower body firmly rooted to the ground, no matter what stance they take.
Seeing Bu Eun-seol's feet, caked with blood, planted limply on the ground, the boy instantly discerned that Bu Eun-seol had not trained in martial arts.
"Take this!"
With a battle cry, the silver meteor hammer flew at Bu Eun-seol's face like a lightning flame.
When Bu Eun-seol reflexively leaned back,
Hwirik.
The meteor hammer traced a semicircle through the air and struck Bu Eun-seol's back.
Crack!
The bamboo box shattered and fell to the ground.
As he hurried to pick up the box, the meteor hammer spun through the air once more and shot toward the box.
CRUNCH!
Inside the shattered box, black clothing was visible.
It was the vestment Bu Jan-yang had worn in life, when conducting funerals.
"Are you a peddler of vestments?"
Though the boy spinning the meteor hammer wore a sneer, Bu Eun-seol's eyes did not waver.
"You will die."
"Hahaha. Ridiculous. You mean to kill me with that peachwood sword?"
Just as the boy was sneering,
Puk.
With a dull sound, a sharp spear tip jutted out from the center of the boy's chest.
"Ugh."
When he turned to look back, a boy holding a short spear was driving the tip in with all his strength.
It was Wi Un-cheong—the one who had ambushed and killed Red Dragon moments ago.
"You bastard..."
As the boy with the meteor hammer tried to move, Wi Un-cheong swiftly twisted and pulled out his short spear.
Urk.
The boy, his chest pierced through the center, spat out a mouthful of blood and died on the spot.
Thud.
Bu Eun-seol, looking down at the fallen boy, muttered in a low voice.
"That one with the short spear—he had been waiting for an opportunity to attack you since earlier."
Bu Eun-seol had spotted the boy swinging the meteor hammer like a madman, and Wi Un-cheong lurking nearby, waiting for a chance to ambush.
In the end, Bu Eun-seol had loitered in front of the meteor hammer boy, helping Wi Un-cheong.
"Hmph."
Wi Un-cheong, as if he too had realized this fact, let out a derisive snort toward Bu Eun-seol.
"Why did you help me?"
"Because I figured I would end up facing that one eventually anyway."
"From the look of you, you haven't learned martial arts."
Wi Un-cheong wore a sneer.
"Trash like you, I can kill anytime."
Wi Un-cheong, who had gotten a taste for ambushes.
He was roaming the training ground, assassinating the strong.
Since a weakling like Bu Eun-seol could be killed at any time, he turned his body away without a second thought.
But Wi Un-cheong did not know. That Bu Eun-seol had predicted his every action.
And that it had been a grave mistake.
"Still no one who stands out."
Hyeokryeon Eung, who had been watching the scene from atop the platform, furrowed his brow.
In fact, it was he who had proposed this Second Trial.
Hyeokryeon Eung, a proponent of practical combat training, had opposed the opinion of selecting the Ten Demonic Heirs based solely on bone and muscle structure.
—It is true that bone and muscle structure is the foremost priority in learning Superior Martial Arts. However, one cannot judge a peerless prodigy of martial arts, one capable of reaching the utmost limit of Demonic Path Martial Arts, simply by bone and muscle structure.
In the end, respecting the opinion of their Chief Instructor, they had created the Second Trial to select candidates for the Ten Demonic Heirs once more.
"To think that after excluding those with good bone and muscle structure, there would be such a lack of personages."
Ting!
At that moment, a clear metallic sound rang out across the training platform.
A boy with a hero's headwrap tied around his head had drawn the saber at his waist.
"The Essence-Shaving Blade?"
Hyeokryeon Eung narrowed his eyes.
What the boy wearing the hero's headwrap had drawn was the Essence-Shaving Blade, the cherished blade of Muk-hon, who had once been called the First Blade of the Wanderers.
The Essence-Shaving Blade, regarded as one of the Four Great Blades under Heaven, had gone missing after Muk-hon's death.
And yet that boy wearing the hero's headwrap was holding that blade?
"A disciple of Muk-hon?"
Then, the refined middle-aged man standing behind him.
Baek Jeon-cheon, the Hall Leader of the Myriad Talents Hall, stepped forward and spoke.
"His name is Neung Un-gang. It is said he discovered the secret manual and blade left behind by Muk-hon in a Deep Mountain Secluded Valley."
The Myriad Talents Hall was a gathering place for brilliant strategists, serving as the brain of the Demon Hall.
Before the competition began, Baek Jeon-cheon had committed to memory the personal information of all the numerous participants in the guest registry.
"Either way, since he has inherited Muk-hon's legacy, he is, in a sense, his disciple."
"Then that one will survive until the last."
"However, since he learned his saber technique from a secret manual, his opening moves are not smooth."
Baek Jeon-cheon pointed at Wi Un-cheong among the fiercely fighting participants.
"In my view, that child seems by far the most outstanding."
Wi Un-cheong had grasped the martial arts levels of the participants in the training ground faster than anyone, and above all, he showed no hesitation in executing killing moves.
His temperament could be said to be highly suited for learning Demonic Path Martial Arts.
"That one will fall before long."
"Pardon?"
"No matter how much it is a situation where they must kill each other without allies, if one goes around performing ambushes, one cannot help but stand out."
Hyeokryeon Eung shook his head.
"Unless one has the skill to face all the enemies in the training ground at once, it is better not to do such things. In the end, one becomes the target of every enemy's wariness."
As if supporting Hyeokryeon Eung's words, Wi Un-cheong's ambushes gradually began to fail.
Not only that, but the participants around him began to attack Wi Un-cheong with one mind and one purpose.
'He will die soon.'
Baek Jeon-cheon, marveling at Hyeokryeon Eung's sharp foresight, spoke.
"But is there truly a need to select applicants in such a bloodthirsty manner? Even without fighting like this, there would surely be prodigies who would develop quickly once taught martial arts."
"From the start, the Elders' Hall said we only needed to select peerless prodigies with good bone and muscle structure. But do you know why I planned the Second Trial?"
"Hmm... Is it not to find prodigies who are slightly lacking in bone and muscle structure but strong in real battle?"
"Not at all."
Hyeokryeon Eung laughed lowly.
"To reach the utmost limit of Demonic Path Martial Arts, one must possess not only bone and muscle structure, but also innate senses and a killing intent capable of overturning the heavens."
Hyeokryeon Eung, who had been gazing at the boy wearing the hero's headwrap, spoke with an expression full of conviction.
"And that can only be seen in the extreme of battle. Like that child there."
"You mean... Neung Un-gang?"
"Yes. He possesses beast-like senses and killing intent, so he will likely be the final survivor."
At Hyeokryeon Eung's bold declaration, Baek Jeon-cheon smiled calmly.
"I suppose the words of the Chief Instructor, who has fought with others his entire life, must be correct."
But Hyeokryeon Eung's prediction was only half right.
When the fight finally came to an end, two people remained on the training ground.
The participants who had filled the training ground like clouds had mostly breathed their last, or were dying from fatal wounds.
No matter how outstanding the martial arts they had honed, the participants were young boys and girls eighteen years old or younger.
At an age where even the meaning of death was unfamiliar, surviving a melee where every direction held only enemies was an impossible feat.
Even Wi Un-cheong, who had roamed the training ground, singling out only the strong to ambush, had ultimately become a cold corpse.
Swaak.
At that moment, Neung Un-gang, standing upright on the training ground, shook the blood from his Essence-Shaving Blade.
"Surprising."
Neung Un-gang looked at Bu Eun-seol, who stood tall across from him, a smile playing on his lips.
"I never thought you'd be the one to survive to the end."
Neung Un-gang already knew.
He knew that Bu Eun-seol, standing before his eyes, possessed the weakest and most insignificant skills among all those who had filled the training ground.
"Now, if I just kill you... I become a candidate for the Ten Demonic Heirs, is that it?"
Even at Neung Un-gang's provocation, Bu Eun-seol only glared at him in silence.
"Heh heh."
Letting out a low laugh, Neung Un-gang crooked his finger at Bu Eun-seol.
"Come at me."
Step. Step.
Bu Eun-seol, who had avoided fighting as much as possible until now, slowly approached Neung Un-gang.
This fight could not be avoided.
Without defeating Neung Un-gang, he could not become a candidate for the Ten Demonic Heirs.
Clatter.
Setting down the broken bamboo box, Bu Eun-seol drew the Peach Wood Sword hanging at his side and gripped it.
Watching this, Neung Un-gang bared his fangs in a grin.
"You're insane."
Even at the insulting provocation, Bu Eun-seol did not respond and focused his mind.
Bu Eun-seol, who had been secretly circling the training ground, had already guessed that Neung Un-gang would survive to the end.
'That one is the strongest.'
His saber seemed to be swung recklessly, but every single form contained profound principle.
He defeated enemies with difficulty, but his skill was steadily growing.
Bu Eun-seol had instinctively sensed that Neung Un-gang was the strongest among the participants in the training ground.
And so he had diligently observed, and observed again, the scars of the participants Neung Un-gang had cut down.
'I can definitely win.'
Bu Eun-seol had already found a flaw in Neung Un-gang's saber forms.
Moreover, Neung Un-gang was looking down on him.
In real battle, a moment of carelessness decides life and death.
Especially since Neung Un-gang had already assessed that Bu Eun-seol had not properly learned martial arts, he would attack leisurely before trying to end his life.
"Your dreams are ambitious."
Neung Un-gang sneered at the fighting spirit rising in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"You think you can defeat me?"
Flash!
The black-stained Essence-Shaving Blade gleamed brilliantly in the air.
Slice.
Along with the sound of flesh splitting, blood streamed from Bu Eun-seol's shoulder and right thigh.
"You've got guts, but that's not enough."
Neung Un-gang had originally expected Bu Eun-seol to leap away and dodge, and had unfolded his forms accordingly.
But Bu Eun-seol only glared at him, standing as still as a stone statue.
"Oh, or was it that you couldn't dodge? Heh heh heh."
Letting out a low laugh, Neung Un-gang swung the Essence-Shaving Blade again.
Swiish.
This time, flesh near Bu Eun-seol's shoulder flew off.
He could have simply cut or stabbed to kill, but instead he sliced away only the muscle around the shoulder joint to inflict pain.
Drip. Drip.
From where the flesh had flown off, red blood fell in clumps.
But Bu Eun-seol simply stood there impassively, as if he felt no pain at all.
"Hahaha! Are you too scared to move!"
Like a cat toying with a mouse, every time Neung Un-gang swung his blade, Bu Eun-seol's vestments were dyed crimson.
Trickle.
Even though he wore black vestments, the red blood soaked into the fabric.
Bu Eun-seol's appearance was such that he looked like a snowman painted with black and red dye.
"A pathetic blade."
Bu Eun-seol, every part of him except his two eyes stained with blood, spoke in a low voice.
"Seeing how it only ever slices off flesh."
"What did you say?"
In that instant, a blue light flickered from Neung Un-gang's eyes.
"Are you asking me to kill you quickly?"
From the eyes of Neung Un-gang, holding the Essence-Shaving Blade, thick killing intent rose like a heat haze.
He had resolved to finish Bu Eun-seol using the most brutal and sharp form.
'Here it comes!'
Bu Eun-seol, having spotted Neung Un-gang twisting his grip on the Essence-Shaving Blade, raised the Peach Wood Sword he held to mid-level.
'Only one chance!'
Bu Eun-seol had been studying the scars of those who had fallen to Neung Un-gang all along.
He had discovered that the killing move Neung Un-gang frequently used had a fatal flaw.
'Below the knee.'
The moment he extended the blade, it seemed to surround the opponent without any gap, but in truth, the actual attack only targeted above the knee.
'He must think no martial arts master would flatten themselves to the ground to avoid an attack.'
"Die!"
At that moment, Neung Un-gang, who had dashed forward using his movement technique, unleashed his killing move.
Flash!
As the brilliant light poured down, Bu Eun-seol, without a moment to think, flattened his body to the ground like lightning.
Whish.
As the sharp form grazed past above his head, his disheveled hair was cut and scattered.
'Now!'
Bu Eun-seol sprang up like a freshly caught carp and thrust the Peach Wood Sword with all his might into Neung Un-gang's Celestial Rush Point.
—The Celestial Rush Point is a place even external martial arts masters find difficult to train.
—Isn't that where marketplace strongmen press their blades?
—Hahaha. That's because they slowly bring the blade to their throat. It's a pressure point where even a child can knock out an adult if they strike with full force.
Thud.
Along with a dull sound, a choked groan rang out.
"Ugh."
Neung Un-gang's mouth fell open and his eyes bulged wide.
Because before he knew it, the old Peach Wood Sword had been driven into the base of his throat, into his Celestial Rush Point.
"Guh, guhh..."
Even though it was a sword made for chasing ghosts, its edge was still sharpened.
Trickle.
As red blood flowed from the Peach Wood Sword lodged beneath his throat, Neung Un-gang, who had let out a choked groan,
Thud.
Collapsed and died on the spot.
At the same time, a clamorous gong rang out.
The Second Trial had ended.
"..."
But as a completely unexpected outcome emerged, only a silence like death itself flowed over the platform.
"Is it over."
Bu Eun-seol, who had been looking up at Hyeokryeon Eung and Baek Jeon-cheon standing on the platform, opened his mouth.
"Or is there another gate?"
Drenched in blood, with his eyes glaring upward, Bu Eun-seol looked like a single rakshasa demon that had crawled up through hell.