Chapter 42
What is the pinnacle of liberation?
Bu Eun-seol had thought he had already tasted the pinnacle of liberation long ago.
That was because he had enjoyed the Corpse Game, enduring long stretches of time confined within a narrow coffin.
What happens when a perfectly living person lies down inside a coffin?
At first, it is merely suffocating.
But as time passes, one feels the illusion of invisible, unyielding ropes binding the entire body.
Once even that time passes, a suffocating tightness comes, as if the nose and mouth are being blocked, and breathing becomes difficult. When one emerges outside just as consciousness is about to fade, an indescribable sense of liberation is felt.
'Was what I felt back then not liberation?'
Bu Eun-seol, having emerged from the Demon Hall.
Only now did he truly taste the pinnacle of liberation.
The White Horse Temple and the Fire Rain Sword Sect had tried to kill him by any means necessary. He had narrowly escaped with his life from the trap they had laid.
Afterwards, when he had barely regained consciousness from his severe injuries, this time the Absolute Demonic Lord, whose moods of joy, anger, sorrow, and pleasure could not be predicted, had toyed with him while holding his lifeline in his grasp.
If he had slipped up for even a single moment, Bu Eun-seol would not have been walking the main road, but the River of Three Crossings.
―A carriage has been prepared.
But perhaps it was because of the unexpected outcome?
When Bu Eun-seol emerged in one piece, the Demon Hall sent him an old horse and a coachman far older than the horse.
But Bu Eun-seol was not disappointed.
In any case, once he returned to Langya Pavilion, he would once again cross the line between life and death while learning martial arts.
If that were the case, wouldn't it be fine if the return journey took a little longer? That was the thought that came to him.
Another fortunate point was that, when leaving Langya Pavilion, he had received a generous amount of travel expenses.
―I will return alone.
If he wished, he could buy a carriage and coachman and return.
Having slipped out of the Demon Hall alone, Bu Eun-seol had made up his mind to tour the nearby villages before returning.
Welcome Inn.
It was the place Bu Eun-seol, who had been wandering here and there, entered to satisfy his hunger.
A low murmur of voices.
Perhaps because the Demon Hall was nearby, most of those filling the inn appeared to be martial artists of the Demonic Path.
There were some who occasionally cast their gazes toward Bu Eun-seol, but since he wore not a single weapon, they seemed to take him for a simple sightseer.
"Please come again."
Having filled his stomach, Bu Eun-seol stepped outside the inn.
And he moved his steps toward the inner part of the marketplace to find a carriage.
Normally, he would have walked quickly, but now he strolled through the marketplace with the leisurely gait of a village idler.
Yet the more he took in the surrounding scenery, the more he felt a strange sense of dissonance. And he realized one fact he had not felt until now.
Namely, that peaceful scenery felt unfamiliar to him.
'I have changed.'
After leaving Peaceful Burial House, learning martial arts or fighting others had been the entirety of his days.
He had, in effect, transitioned far too abruptly from the life of an undertaker to the life of a martial artist.
'I... did not want this kind of thing.'
Bu Eun-seol looked down at his own two hands.
On these two hands was the blood of the countless boys and girls who had participated in the Ten Demonic Heirs Tournament.
This was never what he wanted.
He hesitated.
Bu Eun-seol, who had been walking while lost in thought, had his footsteps slow by a beat.
An uncomfortable and strange sensation.
It was the gaze of a predator eyeing its prey.
'Should I have gotten at least a sword from the Demon Hall?'
Because he had blocked Go Gun-pyeong's final form, the iron sword he had brought from Langya Pavilion had snapped in two, and he had left it discarded at the Demon Hall.
Letting out a sigh, Bu Eun-seol changed his direction and headed toward the forge at the far end of the shopping district.
"Looking for a weapon?"
The blacksmith, apparently seeing Bu Eun-seol as a wandering boy, grinned and pointed to the display stand where weapons were laid out.
"For young folks, a light sword is best."
Where the blacksmith pointed, long swords with gleaming luster were displayed.
Swiish.
Bu Eun-seol picked up a longsword and furrowed his brow.
The outward appearance was plausible, but the blade was too thin and the center of gravity was completely off. If the weapons were to clash, it seemed it would shatter into pieces on the spot.
In short, it was a sword perfectly suited to be hung as decoration in the room of a wealthy young master.
"Is there anything cheaper? Something someone else used and sold off is fine too."
At Bu Eun-seol's words, the blacksmith, with a deflated expression, pointed to the boxes placed at the far end of the display stand.
"Pick one from over there. Whatever you choose, I'll give it to you for five silver taels."
In the large box, old swords were piled in layers.
Most were rusted, and many lacked scabbards.
Rummaging through the piled swords, Bu Eun-seol picked up one sword that was plastered with rust.
It was so old and rusted that it looked like an unfinished sword that had only taken the shape of a sword.
"I'll take this one."
"That one?"
The blacksmith, as if his conscience pricked him, scratched his head, then held out an iron sword from another box.
"Use this instead. If you're planning to cut anything, that is."
"I'll just take this one."
Placing five silver taels on the table, Bu Eun-seol stepped out of the forge.
Then he left the village outskirts and moved to a place with a quiet forest path.
Step. Step.
After walking leisurely for a long while, Bu Eun-seol came to a stop when a wide reed field appeared.
As he drew a deep breath, a fishy smell of iron was carried on the blowing wind.
"Come out."
Bu Eun-seol muttered lowly while gazing at the distant sky.
"Unless you're looking for a better place than this."
Rustle, rustle, rustle.
At that, the reeds blooming on all sides began to stir chaotically, and suddenly black shadows materialized around Bu Eun-seol.
Their appearance was as if black fog had risen from the ground and been shaped into human forms.
"Hm."
Bu Eun-seol frowned.
The shadows that had revealed themselves all had their faces covered, and every one of them wore an identical sword at their side.
They were clearly martial artists belonging to a single sect.
"You've got quite a sharp eye."
Among the masked figures, the one who appeared to be the leader stepped forward.
"Bu Eun-seol."
"You know me."
"Of course. From the fact that you're some kind of inheritor or other..."
The masked man's eyes flashed as he spoke.
"I also know that in about three years, you'll become a Demon Sovereign and trample the murim."
"You're spouting nonsense."
"Nonsense?"
The masked man said in a sharp voice.
"Do you not know that the more wretches like you grow, the more the Demon Hall—and the Demonic Path—flourish?"
'The Demon Hall and the Demonic Path...'
He had only chosen to become a martial artist for the sake of revenge. He was not a bloodthirsty Killing Ghost.
He had no desire to meddle in the profit or power struggles of sects, nor any desire to gain fame.
"Do you want to kill me?"
"Want to kill you? You're misunderstanding something."
The masked man chuckled as he looked at Bu Eun-seol.
"We hold the power over your life and death. It's not that we want to kill you—it's that your death has already been decided."
"Power over life and death?"
In an instant, killing intent rose in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
Those who called themselves the strong and deluded themselves into thinking they could rule over the fates of others. He despised such people above all else.
"Heh heh heh. The strong can rule over the fates of the weak. That is precisely what the murim is."
At the masked man's words, Bu Eun-seol nodded.
"Then I shall rule as well."
A crimson blood light blazed from his eyes.
"Your life threads end today!"
At Bu Eun-seol's shout, thick with killing intent, the masked man yelled to his comrades.
"Deploy the formation!"
Whirrrr.
The masked men surrounding Bu Eun-seol split into two lines, one side beginning to circle to the left and the other to the right.
Srrng.
Bu Eun-seol drew his steel sword and thrust it toward the circling masked men.
Paht!
But before he could even fully execute the form, the tip of Bu Eun-seol's extended sword was deflected, bending away as if struck.
'What a strange battle method.'
It was as though an invisible force had knocked his sword aside.
In that gap, a sharp sword stroke flew in from somewhere and grazed Bu Eun-seol's shoulder.
Chik!
His clothing tore, and a faint blood line was drawn across Bu Eun-seol's shoulder.
Because the masked men moved chaotically, constantly creating afterimages, Bu Eun-seol could not determine where the sword strokes were pouring in from.
Chik chik!
Once again, sharp sword strokes rained down.
Bu Eun-seol swiftly dodged the attacks and attempted counterattacks, but his sword was deflected every time.
The movements of the masked men, who seemed to swing their swords while moving in a dizzying blur, were compensating for each other's weaknesses.
'They've trained for a long time in attacking together.'
What the masked men were using was the Righteous Path's Absolute Formation, the Revolving Death Membrane Formation.
But Bu Eun-seol, who had never learned about battle formations, simply thought they had trained for a long time in some remarkable Combined Attack Art.
Hwik.
At that moment, a sword suddenly appeared and grazed Bu Eun-seol's shoulder once more.
"...?"
In that instant, a puzzled light rose in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
The form was extremely sharp, but it could not exactly be called a Killing Move. The intent was solely to pierce near the Shoulder Well acupoint and render him incapable of fighting.
'So it wasn't Demonic Sword Arts.'
On the surface, it looked tenacious and venomous, but the masked men's sword techniques had more movements aimed at the vital points of the limbs than at ending a life.
'It doesn't matter to me.'
Bu Eun-seol was not even curious about who they were or why they were trying to kill him.
'Isn't the murim a place of killing and being killed, after all?'
Wooong.
As Bu Eun-seol drew up his internal energy, crimson points of light surged around his body, and his entire body's senses were amplified dozens of times over.
He had fully unleashed the internal energy and the senses of the Way of the Beast that he had not used until now.
Flash!
When he opened his eyes wide, the sword strokes of the masked men, which had been invisible before, now appeared clearly.
They seemed to move chaotically, but they were actually using fixed footwork techniques and sword techniques.
'Interesting. So it was simply moving according to fixed rules.'
The moment a battle formation is deciphered, it turns into utterly useless movement.
A smile rose on Bu Eun-seol's lips as he discerned that they were repeating fixed movements.
Swish!
Bu Eun-seol thrust his sword toward the exact center of the rotating masked men.
Then swords poured in from all directions. But Bu Eun-seol paid them no mind and unfolded his sword.
'They're all feints anyway.'
Tang!
At that instant, the rotating masked men's movements stopped.
It was because one masked man had moved differently from the formation in order to block Bu Eun-seol's attack.
"Do not panic!"
The masked leader, apparently thinking Bu Eun-seol had discovered a weakness in the formation, spoke in a loud voice.
"Deploy the Second Formation!"
Then the masked men began moving chaotically and pouring out their swords.
But Bu Eun-seol had already pushed the Way of the Beast to its utmost limit.
No matter how chaotically the masked men moved, finding their weaknesses was not difficult.
'The Combined Attack Art is excellent, but the disparity among the masked men themselves is great.'
They were moving as chaotically as the constellations of the night sky. But because the footwork of a few masked men had tangled, their weaknesses were soon revealed.
'It seems this is as far as it goes.'
As the tedious movements continued, Bu Eun-seol finally extended a Killing Move.
"Argh!"
As his sword split the air, one of the chaotically moving masked men clutched his throat and let out a wretched scream.
In a single lightning-fast stroke, the carotid artery near his neck had been severed.
'He grasped the weakness of the Seven Stars Solitary Sword Formation in that brief moment?'
The Second Formation—what the masked men were now deploying was the Seven Stars Solitary Sword Formation.
To shatter the Wudang Sect's Absolute Formation, which had never once been broken until now, in a single stroke?
'So the Demon Hall has already taught the Ten Demonic Heirs the Righteous Path's Formation-Breaking Art!'
The leader of the masked men, having firmly mistaken Bu Eun-seol's ability, gritted his teeth.
"Use the Third Formation!"