Chapter 476
The Flying Demon, Tak Il-hon.
Who would have thought such a man would look like this utterly unassuming old man?
"There is no longer any person called the Flying Demon."
Tak Il-hon pointed to his own leg.
"Just a crippled old man, that's all."
One of his legs seemed completely ruined—the calf bone and thigh area grotesquely swollen and protruding.
"Did you injure it when you fell?"
"Well, yes. Losing one leg in exchange for surviving a fall while unconscious is quite a bargain, don't you think? Most end up with their bodies shattered and dead."
Tak Il-hon had his internal power completely severed by Shaolin, and when he fell into this Repentance Cave, his leg was crushed.
A master of Lightness Body Art with a shattered leg—even if his internal power were restored.
The person known as the Flying Demon could no longer exist in the martial world.
"No need to look at me like that."
Tak Il-hon spoke indifferently.
"At first, I was mad with rage. But now, it doesn't bother me at all."
"Is that so?"
Bu Eun-seol replied while surveying his surroundings.
The old men gathered here showed no particular interest in his appearance.
At most, only a couple besides Tak Il-hon had even gathered.
'Do they have no curiosity at all?'
Even the demonkin in Peach Garden Village had been eager for news of the martial world.
Yet these men had lived for decades in this gloomy, lightless cave—and didn't even ask about the outside world or who he was?
"Who are you? What did you do to end up imprisoned here?"
"I go by Seol-so."
Revealing his identity here would bring no good.
Bu Eun-seol gave a vague answer.
"I just came to browse the original martial arts texts in the Scripture Pavilion... but then I got carried away and ended up meddling with the Blood Shaolin's Scripture Pavilion as well... So here I am."
"Hmm."
Tak Il-hon let out a sigh of realization.
"You read them, then."
"That's right."
"Well, then you deserve to be locked up."
Then, with a bitter smile, he pointed to his own face.
"I was the same, you see."
As it turned out, the Flying Demon had also been imprisoned here for reading Shaolin's secret manuals.
"Truth be told, most in this Repentance Cave are here because they read the secret manuals in the Scripture Pavilion."
The Buddhist Order's high monks can't just execute people for reading martial arts manuals.
But leaving them free would risk Shaolin's secret arts leaking outside... So the only option is to imprison them in the Repentance Cave for life.
"Another thief, calling himself the Divine Thief or whatnot."
"I thought we had someone new for once."
A few of the old men who had watched with curiosity seemed disappointed upon realizing Bu Eun-seol was just another thief like the Flying Demon.
With disinterested expressions, they shook their heads and wandered off.
"But something's strange."
Bu Eun-seol wore a puzzled look.
"Unlike those near the entrance, why do all the elders here seem as mild as immortals?"
"Heh heh heh."
Tak Il-hon let out an odd laugh.
"It's not for nothing that Shaolin's bald monks locked us away here."
Then he gestured toward the darkness-veiled cave.
"All over this cave, Buddhist scriptures are carved into the walls. And the only things to eat are those."
Where he pointed, blue-tinged grass grew in patches.
The Cold Spirit Herb, known to calm the human mind.
Great Demonic Persons whose internal power had already been shattered, with nothing to see but Buddhist scriptures covering the cave walls.
And after long-term consumption of the Cold Spirit Herb, the demonic energy in their bodies gradually faded.
In the end, they transformed into mild-tempered individuals who rarely even raised their voices.
"I see."
Only then did Bu Eun-seol understand why the demonkin were divided between the entrance area and this deeper section.
The entrance area had no scripture carvings.
That was why the ferocious demonkin lived in the caves near the entrance.
"But those old men over there wouldn't have stayed quiet, would they?"
"Of course not. For a while, they fought viciously against the ones here. Claiming they needed meat, they'd ambush the elders here at night."
Tak Il-hon frowned as he spoke.
"Casualties piled up, and those bastards kept resisting... Then, from time to time, new fools would fall into the cave after trying to steal the Scripture Pavilion's secret manuals... Well, you get the picture."
In the end, the old men near the entrance would occasionally wage war, using it to fill their bellies.
Or they'd devour those who fell into the Repentance Cave after sneaking into the Scripture Pavilion to read the manuals.
A cycle of brutality, repeated endlessly.
"But aren't you curious about the outside world?"
Bu Eun-seol watched the departing old men with a look of disinterest.
"Well, if you'd come ten years earlier, they might've been quite curious."
Tak Il-hon spoke with a rueful expression.
"But even if you told them you were an immortal now, they wouldn't show the slightest interest."
Most of the demonic practitioners here were over a hundred years old, their internal power shattered.
The vigor of their past had faded, and now they spent their days nibbling on Cold Spirit Herbs or sitting in caves inscribed with Buddhist scriptures.
They had abandoned all worldly obsessions.
"Still, something's odd."
"What is?"
"I don't sense much demonic energy from you. In fact, you almost feel like someone who's trained in the Righteous Faction's Mind-Training Formula."
Bu Eun-seol was startled.
Just from exchanging a few words—
This man had discerned that his spirit and mind were aligned with the Middle Path, even that he had trained in orthodox martial arts?
"No need to look so surprised. I, too..."
Tak Il-hon started to say something but then shook his head with a wry chuckle.
"Well, who among those imprisoned here doesn't have secrets they can't share?"
A strange emotion stirred in Bu Eun-seol's chest.
Tak Il-hon, the Flying Demon, had once been the Great Thief and a Great Demon who had slaughtered hundreds of Righteous Faction members.
Yet now, he was grinning like some benevolent sage... It left Bu Eun-seol with an odd sense of melancholy.
What even defines righteousness and demonic evil?
A human life could be short or long.
And within that life, people changed as they experienced different things.
One might love a certain food, then grow to hate it. One might adore a person, then despise them.
A master of the Demonic Path, who once lived by the logic of brute force, could attain enlightenment and walk the Righteous Path, crying out for justice.
Conversely, a Righteous Faction member, who once strictly upheld hierarchy and status, could grow disillusioned and defect to the Demonic Path.
In the end, the concepts of "demonic" and "righteous" were nothing more than labels humans created for convenience—labels that could shift at any moment.
Just as his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang, had taught him.
"By the way, what are those?"
Scattered across the cave walls were not just Buddhist scriptures but also bizarre characters, seemingly carved by hand.
Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be martial arts manuals.
"Ah, those are techniques left behind by the old men here."
Tak Il-hon smiled faintly.
"Knowing their deaths were near, they engraved their ultimate arts as a final lament."
He smirked at Bu Eun-seol.
"If you're interested, feel free to study them. Mastering just one could make you a supreme master capable of looking down on the world."
Then he chuckled bitterly.
"Assuming you could ever leave this place, that is."
"I see."
But Bu Eun-seol had little interest in demonic arts.
His martial prowess had already reached the Extreme Heaven Realm, and he was forging his own new path.
Ordinary martial techniques simply didn't catch his eye anymore.
"Now, tell me."
"Tell you what?"
"The current state of the martial world. And what became of the Bima Palace."
Tak Il-hon sniffed slightly as he spoke.
"Compared to them, I haven't been here long. I still care about the outside world."
Tak Il-hon had only been imprisoned for about fifteen years and was barely eighty years old.
Unlike the others, he hadn't yet detached himself from worldly affairs—his curiosity about the martial world remained.
"Keep it brief if you must."
Feeling Tak Il-hon's persistent gaze, Bu Eun-seol reluctantly opened his mouth.
"Well, as you've probably guessed, the Bima Palace disbanded immediately after your disappearance..."
He calmly summarized the current state of the martial world.
He omitted events involving himself and downplayed the complexities of the Three Realms.
Even so, his concise explanation allowed Tak Il-hon to grasp the chaotic state of the martial world.
"I see. A complete mess, then."
After listening, Tak Il-hon let out a faint sigh.
He had once believed his absence would send shockwaves through the martial world.
But nothing of the sort had happened.
The subordinates who had sworn loyalty with their lives disbanded the Bima Palace the moment he vanished.
Even the name "Flying Demon Tak Il-hon" had faded from public memory in the blink of an eye.
"I appreciate the information."
"Then I'll take my leave."
Bu Eun-seol stood up.
Having repeatedly used the Willful True Binding without proper qi circulation, sweet-tasting blood coursed through his body.
He needed to meditate and rest.
"Going to rest? Well, I suppose your body can't be in great shape."
Tak Il-hon gestured vaguely toward the cave.
"Find an empty spot wherever the old men aren't crowded. They won't bother you."
Then, as if remembering something, he pointed toward a deep passage at the far end.
"Just don't go near the very back of that tunnel."
His expression darkened.
"The moment you enter that place, you'll meet a gruesome death."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Just know that even setting foot inside means death."
"Death just from stepping in? Is the Blood Shadow Demon Venerable in there or something?"
"Hmph. Even the Blood Shadow Demon Venerable would be nothing before the demonic beings imprisoned in the Repentance Cave."
Tak Il-hon swallowed thickly.
"What resides there is Death itself. Something no one can defy."
"Death."
"Yes. Just approaching it is enough to kill you, so don't even think about indulging your curiosity."
Tak Il-hon pulled up the hem of his left pant leg.
There, a deep, violet-tinged scar ran across his flesh—a wound so sharp that had it cut just a little deeper, it would have severed bone.
Death.
Bu Eun-seol's pupils flickered.
Death.
Wasn't that the very word that symbolized the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade?
If his guess was right, then inside that cave lurked either the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade himself—or someone who was his perfect shadow.
"Even you, old man, couldn't avoid it?"
"Even if my Internal Energy were fully intact, I couldn't guarantee I'd survive an encounter."
"Then who the hell is he?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Tak Il-hon shook his head.
"I arrived here late, so I don't know who he is or why he's imprisoned. Not that he'd answer even if I asked."
"..."
"But judging by how the long-time prisoners here fear him, he's no ordinary martial artist."
Even as he spoke, cold sweat trickled down Tak Il-hon's face.
It was because he was recalling the 'Death' he had once glimpsed in the depths of that cave.
"You're afraid."
"Hahaha. Strange, isn't it?"
Tak Il-hon's expression darkened with bitter nostalgia.
"There was a time when I feared neither heaven nor earth. But after being trapped here for so long, I've come to understand something."
He met Bu Eun-seol's gaze squarely.
"Death is the end of all things, and humans are beings who cannot help but fear it."
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
It was the most natural reaction.
For mortals bound by finite lives, death would always be terror incarnate.
Those who could savor its meaning or remain indifferent to it were vanishingly rare.
"If anything, it only makes me more curious."
"Well, I won't stop you if you want to die. Who knows?"
Tak Il-hon's face twisted into a lonely smile.
"You're still young. Maybe, just maybe, you could leave this Repentance Cave alive."
"Hmm."
Bu Eun-seol exhaled deeply and surveyed his surroundings.
At the far end of the cave, the sound of flowing water echoed, yet an oddly pungent stench lingered in the air.
One of the reasons why the savage Great Demons avoided this area—
Was likely because of the peculiarly damp and foul odor that clung to these tunnels.
"Thank you. I've learned much from you, old man."
After a light bow, Bu Eun-seol turned away.
Then, he strode into the filthiest, most exposed hollow of the cave—one where the interior was fully visible from the passage—and lay down.
"You're staying there?"
"Does it matter?"
Bu Eun-seol's lips curled faintly as he scanned the area.
"Plenty of bugs here. Perfect for when I get hungry."
"Hahaha."
Tak Il-hon chuckled as if he understood.
"You must've been a beggar too. Then again, most thieves come from the gutters."
"Something like that. Anyway."
As Bu Eun-seol sprawled out, Tak Il-hon clicked his tongue in disappointment.
"Thought having a young one around would be entertaining..."
Truthfully, Tak Il-hon had been pleased when a new face entered the Repentance Cave.
He had wanted to watch this newcomer writhe in despair and suffering, just as he had.
But this pale bastard—wasn't he adapting to this hellhole even better than Tak Il-hon, who had been trapped here for fifteen years?
"You're just another worn-out old man in a young body."
With a disgruntled sigh, Tak Il-hon turned and shuffled out of the cave.
Huuuu...
Meanwhile, Bu Eun-seol began circulating his qi as he lay there.
Thanks to mastering the Life Nourishing Secret from the Tendon Transformation Sutra, he could enter meditation in any posture.
Slowly replenishing his depleted Internal Energy, he closed his eyes for a moment.
Immediately, fatigue crashed over him like sinking into deep water.
Some of it was from deliberately taking the palm strikes of Master Gonggong and the Blood Shaolin warrior monks—but his mind was far more exhausted than his body.
His journey through the martial world had never been simple.
He always had to consider countless possibilities, constantly predicting what would unfold next.
And now, he finally had the chance to solve one long-held mystery.
If the one in that cave is the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade—or his shadow—then what?
"I'll find out for certain whether Grandfather Bu Jan-yang is the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade or not."
Krrrrr.
How much time had passed?
Bu Eun-seol, who had fallen asleep in the darkness, faintly opened his eyes at the sound coming from somewhere.
Huuuuuuuu...
It was like the wailing of a ghost—a groan steeped in bitter resentment.
The sound echoed faintly through the cave, but the Great Demons of the Repentance Cave pretended not to hear it.
Because that was the sound of Death weeping.
'The demonic energy really has all faded.'
In the past, the Great Demons would have feared nothing—not even Death itself.
But now, like Tak Il-hon, the demonic beings here trembled before the one they called Death.
For Death was the end of all things.
But Bu Eun-seol was not afraid of Death.
—Life and death are like the two sides of a coin.
A coin is divided into front and back.
But that division exists only for human convenience. Whether you look at the front or the back, it is still a coin.
Bu Eun-seol had been raised with this teaching from Bu Jan-yang, and so he believed that death was not the end.
Thud. Thud.
He walked slowly toward the source of the sound.
His internal power had fully recovered, and the heightened senses of the Way of the Beast had returned in full.
Yet, despite that, he could not detect any presence from the one weeping in the cave.
It was as if a formless specter was sobbing.
Thud. Thud.
As his footsteps grew louder, the mournful wailing gradually subsided.
A silence as heavy as death itself settled, and the air around him grew thick, like molten lead.
If he took another step, it felt as though a demon might lunge from the darkness and swallow him whole in an instant.
But Bu Eun-seol did not hesitate.
Thud. Thud.
Then, from the cave's entrance, an unmistakable, thick, and sinister killing intent began to seep out.
Finally, when he reached the end of the passage, he was met with an astonishing sight—a tightly sealed iron gate.
Unlike the other demonic beings, the Great Demon imprisoned here was locked deep within the Repentance Cave's most secure cell.
The gate was unimaginably thick, but its lock had already been undone.
And on the floor and gate around it, dried bloodstains remained.
Most likely, some of the demonic beings, unable to resist their curiosity, had entered—only to meet a gruesome fate.
"Hm."
As Bu Eun-seol applied force, the massive iron gate creaked open inch by inch.
When he stepped inside, he was met with pitch-black darkness and a pungent stench.
It was not the smell of the cave—but the foul, sickening odor of a person's body.
"..."
The interior of the prison was surprisingly spacious, a stone chamber spanning over ten jang in length and width.
At its center, a hunched figure crouched low, its legs bound in iron chains.
The chains were long enough to allow movement of at least two or three jang.
Judging by their length and arrangement, it seemed the figure had bound itself—not that others had forced it upon him.
The strange metallic sheen suggested these were no ordinary chains, likely forged from Dark Gold or Black Iron.
'They don't intend to starve him to death.'
Even within this prison, Cold Spirit Herbs grew, and underground water flowed.
That was how the prisoner had survived all this time without starving.
Flick.
The chained figure, crouched in the darkness, suddenly raised its head—its sharp eyes piercing through the black.
The moment their gazes met, Bu Eun-seol understood why the demonic beings of the Repentance Cave called him Death.
'He has no internal power, yet he exudes this level of pressure?'
What if Bu Eun-seol's own internal energy had been depleted?
He would have been crushed under the sheer force radiating from the crouching figure, writhing in agony.
But fortunately, his internal power was intact, and he withstood the pressure calmly.
"Murim Junior Bu Eun-seol greets the elder."
The figure's eyes gleamed sharply, scanning Bu Eun-seol's body with terrifying precision.
[Uuu...]
But the moment their gazes locked—Bu Eun-seol's clear eyes meeting his—the figure suddenly clutched its head.
Snap!
It happened in an instant.
One moment, the figure seemed to be gripping its own skull—
The next, a flash of light erupted from its hand, driving straight for Bu Eun-seol's throat.
It was a sword-finger technique—middle and index fingers extended like a blade.
"Kgh—!"
Bu Eun-seol twisted his body in shock, barely dodging.
The figure had a disabled dantian—no internal power to speak of.
Yet, despite that, the sword-finger grazed past Bu Eun-seol's brow and scraped the stone wall behind him.
'This can't be.'
What if his internal power hadn't been fully restored? What if the Way of the Beast hadn't reacted instantly?
That single strike would have pierced his throat.
'How is this possible?'
He had achieved the Spiritual Aperture Breakthrough. His internal energy had reached the level of five hundred years. He was even glimpsing a new realm beyond the Extreme Heaven Realm.
And yet, he had nearly been killed by a single sword-finger from an old man with no internal power?