Chapter 462
"While roaming the martial world, I sought to avoid creating favors or grudges. I executed villains without mercy and did what I believed to be right."
Bukgung Ryeong raised his head, gazing at the distant sky.
"But in doing so, I ended up unraveling the factions that manipulated the Murim. Those forces—divided into three—controlled sects and figures at their whim, conducting human experiments no person should ever commit."
His eyes remained fixed on the bright moon.
"From that day on, I lived with one goal: to expose and destroy those factions—the Three Realms. Yet even at this age, I've accomplished nothing. In the end, I was framed and forced to leave the martial world."
His gaze shifted back to Bu Eun-seol.
"But then, a young man appeared—one who shattered them faster than I ever could and surged forward."
"I thought, 'This one will surely achieve what I failed to.'"
He stared directly into Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"That's why I could leave the martial world without regret."
A successor had emerged to carry Bukgung Ryeong's will.
That successor was none other than the Heir of the Demon Hall—Bu Eun-seol—who had annihilated the Great Cloud Forest, which made the Soulless Ones, along with the related Changbai Mountain Corps and Sword Scale Valley, all while openly declaring the destruction of the Three Realms to the martial world.
"I understand what you're saying," Bu Eun-seol said, furrowing his brow. "But are you telling me you've been wallowing in self-pity, wandering the martial world in such a wretched state for that reason?"
"You little—!" Bukgung Ryeong gritted his teeth, baring his gums in irritation. "That's not it! After leaving the martial world and quietly reflecting, I wondered... wasn't I just another small-scale Three Realms myself?"
He lowered his head briefly, then shook it with a devastated expression.
"I slaughtered them for being villains. I extended my hand to them for being renowned heroes of the righteous faction. But as time passed, I began to question whether what I'd done was truly right."
Back on Ghost Island, Bukgung Ryeong had fallen into an inner demon due to the conflict between the orthodox and unorthodox factions—only to awaken thanks to Bu Eun-seol.
Yet after that day, his thoughts and perspectives had completely changed.
And when he looked back on his life, he felt an overwhelming emptiness.
—What have I been doing all this time?
Were those I killed as villains truly villains?
I believed I was right, but did my actions lead to something even more wrong?
If the so-called 'renowned heroes' of the righteous faction could fall so low... then I must have made some grave mistake.
These torments had plagued him endlessly.
"Haa..."
Bu Eun-seol let out a sigh after hearing everything.
Then he clicked his tongue at Bukgung Ryeong.
"Are you a god, old man?"
"What?"
"Or are you so incapable of managing your own life that you've taken to worrying about others'?"
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"Humans are inherently flawed. That's why we can strive and grow."
"I know that much. Humans are imperfect—mistakes are inevitable."
Bukgung Ryeong vented the frustration buried deep in his heart.
"But you can't just dismiss human lives as 'mistakes.'"
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
Though Bukgung Ryeong seemed stubborn and arrogant, he was, in truth, someone who understood the value of life better than anyone.
That was why Bu Eun-seol held him in regard.
"Listening to you reminds me of someone," Bu Eun-seol said after a brief silence, steering the conversation in an unexpected direction.
"He worked as an attendant at a guest inn for over a decade. Diligent and steadfast, he was about to be promoted to chief steward. But when he reflected on his past, regrets began flooding his mind."
—Did I not do my best for past guests?
—Was there ever a time I caused them discomfort?
—Have I been lacking all along, and am I just getting lucky with this promotion?
Bu Eun-seol met Bukgung Ryeong's gaze.
"In the end, he gave up the position of chief steward. But he couldn't even continue as an attendant—because his mind was consumed by regrets of the past."
—Have I lived wrong all this time?
—Am I doing the right thing now?
—Back then, was that truly the correct choice?
These were thoughts not unique to Bukgung Ryeong—any human would wrestle with them.
The difference was that Bukgung Ryeong had lived unshaken by unwavering conviction—until the events on Ghost Island shattered it all at once.
Though Bu Eun-seol had pulled him from his inner demon, his firm beliefs had yet to be fully restored.
"So? What are you telling me to do?" Bukgung Ryeong muttered in anguish.
Bu Eun-seol scoffed.
"Who said anything about telling you what to do? Your body and mind are yours—do as you please."
And then he spoke calmly.
"Don't delude yourself just because you've scraped together a shred of fame. Not everyone in this world looks up to you, old man."
"W-what did you say?"
"From where I stand, there's no difference between you and the old men who get drunk and rant in the village. You just think the whole world revolves around you."
Bukgung Ryeong wore a dazed expression.
Ever since he had earned the title of Bullet King, he had always been the center of attention in the martial world.
And he had done things that demanded attention—because he had always done what was right, always punished the wicked.
That had been his conviction.
But at some point, after constantly being watched by the world, he had begun to act not out of his own beliefs, but...
Out of concern for how others perceived him.
And the pressure had grown—the pressure to be a role model for countless martial artists, because he was now an elder of the righteous faction.
"Are you saying this old man has been worrying over nothing?" Bukgung Ryeong asked with a hollow expression.
Bu Eun-seol replied, "Not nothing, but perhaps you've been alone for too long."
"Alone?"
"Exactly. Those who walk alone have no choice but to constantly... reflect on their own actions."
For a moment, Bukgung Ryeong looked stunned—then, as if struck by sudden realization, he let out a dry laugh.
"Hahahaha."
A person cannot live alone.
That's why people listen to others, correct their own mistakes—
Or observe the mistakes of others and learn from them.
But Bukgung Ryeong had never gone through that process.
Because he had always stood alone, unrivaled.
Because he had lived his life using only his own idealized self as a mirror... this was the result.
"Right. I see now. I should spend more time with people."
Bukgung Ryeong's face finally relaxed, as if he had grasped everything at last.
"No more pretending to live some lofty, solitary life."
Then, as if realizing something else, he shook his head and added,
"But not the Martial Alliance. That place is full of stuffy old men—and they're far too scheming."
"Do as you please."
Bu Eun-seol stood up with a light expression.
Bukgung Ryeong had freed himself not just from his inner demon, but from his torment. His role here was done.
"Wait."
Bukgung Ryeong shook his head, took a deep breath, then stared at the sharp scars carved into the cave wall.
"The truth is, this old man's despair wasn't just about the conflict between the orthodox and unorthodox factions."
"What do you mean?"
"There was a man who made even my lifelong martial prowess feel meaningless."
Bukgung Ryeong exhaled deeply.
"About five or six years older than you, I'd say. At any rate, I lost to him. That's why my torment grew even deeper."
Bu Eun-seol couldn't hide his surprise.
Even at full strength, he couldn't guarantee an easy victory over Bukgung Ryeong's true power.
And yet, a young man around his own age had defeated him?
"Not only that—he wielded an overwhelming saber technique. As if he intended to drag me down with him in mutual destruction. A terrifying, deathly saber art."
"Deathly saber art?"
Bu Eun-seol's eyes flashed.
The way Bukgung Ryeong described it sounded eerily similar to the Blood-Tear Seven Forms.
"Tell me more."
"Well..."
After a brief hesitation, Bukgung Ryeong slowly began unraveling the story.
"Everything is so tedious."
As Bukgung Ryeong wandered the martial world, everything felt hollow.
Nothing held his interest anymore. The life he had lived until now seemed like nothing more than a fleeting dream.
Meanwhile, the martial world was in chaos.
Recently, mysterious Soulless Ones had begun appearing everywhere. Because of them, not just martial artists but even commoners were suffering.
Then the Martial Alliance made an unprecedented offer:
—For every Soulless One you eliminate, we'll pay ten taels per head!
—Ten taels?
To renowned masters of the martial world, it was a laughable sum.
But to second-rate martial artists of middling skill, it was a fortune.
—Let's go!
Once word spread, armed martial artists began roaming the land, hunting Soulless Ones.
—Nine-Bend Mountain is a goldmine!
Then, rumors spread that a considerable number of Soulless Ones had been spotted at Nine-Bend Mountain—where the Mount Mao Sect once stood.
Soon, martial artists flocked to the area.
But the terrain was treacherous, and remnants of the Mount Mao Sect's bizarre formations and occult arts still lingered.
Because of this, many who had come for the bounty instead suffered heavy losses.
"It's frustrating, but this is good."
Bukgung Ryeong, who had been quietly drifting through the martial world, immediately headed to Nine-Bend Mountain upon hearing the rumors.
But when he scouted the area, strangely, he found no Soulless Ones.
'Was it just a false rumor?'
Puzzled, he climbed all the way to Great Mother Ridge, where the Mount Mao Sect had once stood.
But there, he discovered an extremely bizarre figure.
A man with chains wrapped around both arms, his entire body wreathed in what appeared to be black flames.
He looked to be in his early thirties, perhaps?
His aura was unbearably gloomy, and his gaze was like staring into the bottomless depths of a dark well.
At a single glance, it was clear—this was no disciple of the Righteous Path, but someone who had mastered the Demonic Path Martial Arts.
"Judging by his demeanor, he doesn't seem like a bounty hunter."
"Could he be practicing martial arts here?"
Even to Bukgung Ryeong's question, the man gave no reply.
Bukgung Ryeong's eyebrow twitched.
In the past, he would have immediately taught this arrogant whelp of the Demonic Path a bitter lesson—shown him just how high the heavens truly were.
But now, most of his hostility toward the Demonic Path had faded, and a considerable patience had taken root in his heart.
These were changes that had come after meeting Bu Eun-seol.
"Why is it that all the young brats of the Demonic Path with any skill are so damn arrogant?"
Bukgung Ryeong shook his head and turned to leave.
Whoosh!
But at that moment, an impossibly thin gust of wind sliced through the air.
&&&
Simultaneously, a shallow cut split open on Bukgung Ryeong's right cheek.
Before he knew it, the man had swung his blade, unleashing a razor-sharp saber wind.
"You've got guts, I'll give you that."
White killing intent surged in Bukgung Ryeong's eyes.
No matter how despondent he might be, his heart wasn't generous enough to overlook such insolence.
"If you're bold enough to slash at a man's face, you must be prepared for the consequences, no?"
In response to Bukgung Ryeong's words, the black-eyed man bared his teeth in a grin.
"Arrogant bastard."
Thunk!
In that instant, a single pebble at Bukgung Ryeong's feet shot toward the man's abdomen.
Boom!
The man swung his great saber like lightning, blocking the pebble—but the explosive impact still forced him a step back.
"Only one step?"
Bukgung Ryeong exhaled sharply, realizing the man's Internal Energy surpassed three sixty-year cycles.
"Do you Demonic Path brats just eat Spirit Medicine like it's rice?"
The man fixed his pitch-black eyes on Bukgung Ryeong and flicked his finger.
"Arrogant bastard."
Thunk! Thunk!
This time, two pebbles shot toward the man's forehead and abdomen.
Why was the Bullet King called the Bullet King?
Bullet —"bullet." Not only could he launch anything with devastating force, but his methods were so cunning that blocking them was outright impossible.
Boom! Boom!
With twin explosions, the man was struck by the pebbles and sent flying hundreds of feet back.
"With your level of Internal Power, you won't die. Learn some humility for next time."
Bukgung Ryeong scoffed and turned away.
But then, something miraculous happened.
Sssss—
Suddenly, pitch-black Blade Rings began rising around him.
Whirling around, he saw the man already back on his feet, his great saber extended.
'Dangerous.'
Bukgung Ryeong could sense it instantly.
These Blade Rings weren't just condensed with overwhelming might—they carried an ominous aura, as if death itself had been poured into them.
Whirrrr—
In that moment, dozens of glowing orbs erupted from Bukgung Ryeong's body.
He was unleashing his signature weapon, the Purple Lightning Golden Pellets, to obliterate the Blade Rings.
Rumble!
When the Rings and Pellets collided, an earth-shattering explosion tore through the air.
The man's long-range Blade Rings of Death.
The Bullet King's Inner Energy Bullet Art, concentrated into Golden Pellets.
As these two overwhelming forces clashed, the sky lost its light, and the earth quaked as if struck by an earthquake.
Crash! Crash!
And finally, the victor was decided.
Because before Bukgung Ryeong's eyes—amid the endless storm of Blade Rings—stood the man, his great saber raised.
'This bastard!'
Bukgung Ryeong unleashed his trump card, the Inner Energy Bullet Art, to block the man's strike.
Boom!
But when the Golden Pellets met the saber, Bukgung Ryeong was sent flying like a snapped thread.
The deathly aura imbued in the blade shattered his Body Protection True Qi and tore into his very flesh.
"Ghk—!"
Bukgung Ryeong barely managed to rise.
His Spirit and Mind were no longer whole. Because of this, flaws had appeared in his Inner Energy Bullet Art, leaving him unable to fully withstand the Blade Rings' power.
"Fine. Let's go again."
As Bukgung Ryeong steadied himself and scanned his surroundings, the man had already vanished without a trace.
He couldn't bring himself to speak.
Even if his Spirit and Mind were compromised—he had just suffered an absurd defeat at the hands of some greenhorn Demonic Path master.
"So that's what happened."
As Bu Eun-seol listened to Bukgung Ryeong's account, he realized the truth instantly.
'The Bloody Tears Seven Forms.'
The saber technique that had defeated Bukgung Ryeong.
It was none other than the Life is a Sojourn, Death is a Return—a technique in the Bloody Tears Seven Forms, the signature martial art of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade Bu Jan-yang.
'How is this possible?'
There was no way Bukgung Ryeong would lie.
Which meant—if true—Bu Jan-yang, who had been presumed dead, was actually alive... and had trained a young disciple?
'No, perhaps he grasped the same Blade Essence I left behind.'
In any case, one thing was certain—the man who had defeated Bukgung Ryeong was far more proficient in the Bloody Tears Seven Forms than Bu Eun-seol.
Otherwise, no matter how disheartened or weakened Bukgung Ryeong had been, it would have been impossible to defeat him in a single stroke.
'I'll find out if I go to Nine-Bend Mountain.'
Nine-Bend Mountain was where the Mount Mao Sect, known for their esoteric ritual arts derived from Taoist traditions, had once stood.
However, their mystical techniques had long since faded into obscurity, and now, only traces of the sect's existence remained on the mountain.
Yet, a man who wielded the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade's saber techniques was there?
"You seem interested."
Bukgung Ryeong spoke in a low voice, noticing the fiery glint in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"That bastard is likely honing his saber techniques there. If you're lucky, you might find him."
"I see."
Bu Eun-seol made up his mind.
He would head straight to Nine-Bend Mountain and find the young man who wielded the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade's techniques.
"You heard me well."
As Bu Eun-seol rose from his seat, Bukgung Ryeong spoke again.
"Are you returning to the Demon Hall?"
"What, are you really coming to the Demon Hall?"
"What?"
Bu Eun-seol replied indifferently.
"If you truly despise the Martial Alliance, I can introduce you to the Heaven-Severing, Earth-Destroying Sanctuary. Plenty of old men there to keep you company."
"Hahaha... HAHAHA!"
Bukgung Ryeong burst into raucous laughter at Bu Eun-seol's joke.
He couldn't remember the last time he had laughed so heartily.
"You're telling me, an old man like me, to go to the Heaven-Severing, Earth-Destroying Sanctuary? You mad bastard! HAHAHA!"
After laughing for a long while, Bukgung Ryeong took a deep breath.
"Come to think of it, everything is because of you."
"What do you mean?"
"You're the Heir of the Demon Hall, yet you treat the Demonic Path like dirt. No wonder I got confused."
"Terms like 'Demonic Path' or 'Righteous Path' mean nothing to me."
"Right. To you, they wouldn't."
Bukgung Ryeong's gaze deepened as he exhaled.
"But how many in the martial world are like you?"
The martial world was divided between orthodox and unorthodox factions, and people inevitably had to choose one path or the other.
Someone like Bu Eun-seol, who disregarded such distinctions, was unheard of in martial history.
And Bukgung Ryeong admired that about him—he genuinely liked the man.
Which was why he offered one last piece of advice.
"Even if you want to go, don't return to the Demon Hall just yet."
"What are you talking about?"
"I heard the Needle King Family is about to storm the Demon Hall."
For a moment, Bu Eun-seol looked as if he had been struck in the back of the head.
What kind of absurd story was this?
"Why would the Needle King Family attack the Demon Hall?"
"Something about you scamming the Jongri Family?"
Bu Eun-seol flinched.
It was an honest reaction—because he had always considered Bukgung Ryeong a close friend.
"I thought it was just a rumor... but it's true?"
"It wasn't exactly a scam... More like hiding my identity led to misunderstandings."
Bukgung Ryeong sighed.
"I know you're not the type to toy with women. But why in the world did you use the Buddhist Venerable's disciple's name?"
"I had questions for the Needle King. But as you can see... this identity couldn't ask them."
"I see."
Understanding the situation, Bukgung Ryeong nodded.
Jongri Sa-yu, the Needle King's granddaughter, must have been smitten by Bu Eun-seol's looks and made a hasty fuss about it.
He knew all too well about her impulsive personality.
"And that old man's granddaughter must've fallen for your face at first sight."
Whether Bu Eun-seol was the most handsome man in the world was debatable, but he certainly had the most captivating presence.
Enough to make even an eighty-year-old man's heart race.
No woman could resist such an aura.
"So you used the granddaughter to get close to Jongri Sa-hyeon and extract the information you wanted."
"Something like that."
When Bu Eun-seol admitted it readily, Bukgung Ryeong continued.
"At any rate, those two are preparing to storm the Demon Hall in protest of your deception. If that happens, you'll be in trouble."
For a moment, Bu Eun-seol recalled Jongri Sa-hyeon's dark expression when he first visited the Jongri Family as Seon-u Jin.
He had thought the man was simply troubled.
But in reality, he had been preparing to march to the Demon Hall with Jongri Sa-yu to demand answers—hence his foul mood.
'I have to stop them at all costs.'
Though it had been to conceal his identity, he had still exploited the name of the Buddhist Venerable's disciple.
If this became public knowledge in the martial world?
The humiliation would be unbearable, and Bu Eun-seol's reputation would plummet.
"Thanks for the warning."
As Bu Eun-seol turned to leave in a hurry, Bukgung Ryeong asked,
"Are you going to stop them?"
"Isn't that obvious?"
"The Jongri Family is not only stubborn but also quick-tempered. If you go unprepared, you'll only be pouring oil on the fire."
"Do you have a plan?"
Bukgung Ryeong's expression turned grave.
"There is one... but I don't know if you can pull it off."
"What couldn't I do?"
"Fine. Since I owe you, I'll tell you how to resolve this crisis."
"Go on."
After a brief silence, Bukgung Ryeong spoke in a firm voice.
"A thick face, spiritual herbs, and extra patience."
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
Bukgung Ryeong coughed awkwardly.
"Listen carefully. What I mean is—the Jongri Family is..."