Chapter 480
"So you're leaving now?"
"That's right."
Tak Il-hon stared intently at Bu Eun-seol. Then, taking a deep breath, he spoke.
"Take me with you."
"What are you talking about?"
"There's no one in the martial world as useful as I am."
Tak Il-hon's expression was utterly solemn, his tone grave.
"My lifelong dream was to become the Number One of the Demonic Path. But since I couldn't achieve that, I ended up as the Great Thief who stole martial arts manuals."
His eyes burned as fiercely as the sun.
"Take me with you. I'll show you where all the treasure troves and secret manuals are hidden across the land."
"..."
"If you do, you'll be able to reach the dream of becoming the Number One of the Demonic Path even faster."
Bu Eun-seol furrowed his brow.
"Number One of the Demonic Path?"
"Yes. You—without a doubt—will stand at that pinnacle. The day you rise above all others in the martial world... I want to share in that glory with you."
"You're mistaken about something."
Bu Eun-seol's voice was calm.
"I entered the martial world for one reason alone: revenge."
"Revenge?"
"That's right."
"Not to become the Number One of the Demonic Path?"
"No."
Tak Il-hon hesitated for a moment.
He had thought this young grandmaster burned with the blazing spirit of a warrior. But to think he was merely wandering the martial world for vengeance?
"Regardless... you have what it takes to become the Number One of the Demonic Path."
"I have no interest in that."
"What?"
"All I want is revenge. Once that's done, my journey through the martial world ends."
The answer was utterly unexpected.
A once-in-a-generation prodigy with martial prowess like his—no, with the potential to undoubtedly become the Number One of the Demonic Path—intended to leave the martial world without hesitation once his revenge was complete?
From Tak Il-hon's perspective, it was incomprehensible.
"Spend the rest of your days in peace."
Seeing Tak Il-hon speechless, Bu Eun-seol turned to leave.
"Then."
"Wait!"
Tak Il-hon, as if having made up his mind, asked urgently.
"Judging by the fact that someone like you hasn't achieved your goal yet, your target must be either a master who shakes the heavens or a faction with overwhelming power. Am I right?"
"You are."
Bu Eun-seol's gaze grew distant as he recalled the Three Realms.
"To be honest, overturning the heavens would feel easier by comparison."
"'Overturning the heavens would feel easier'..."
A surge of heat rose in Tak Il-hon's chest.
Only now did he realize what path Bu Eun-seol was walking—what kind of man he truly was.
This young grandmaster was embarking on a journey hundreds of times more difficult than becoming the Number One of the Demonic Path.
"Fine."
Tak Il-hon's eyes flashed as he spoke with firm resolve.
"Use me as your subordinate. Enslave me if you must."
He bent at the waist and declared forcefully.
"Take me with you. I'll do anything you ask."
Tak Il-hon's lifelong ambition had been to become the Number One of the Demonic Path.
But before him stood a young grandmaster who considered even that goal trivial.
A man who cared nothing for power or fame... who willingly walked a path more treacherous than dominating the heavens.
Where else could he find someone who could perfectly fulfill his own regrets?
"You're saying you'll become my subordinate?"
"Yes. If you demand it, I'll swear a blood oath."
Recognizing the unshakable determination in Tak Il-hon's words, Bu Eun-seol hesitated.
Unfortunately, unlike the other old men, he hadn't been completely reformed with virtuous roots.
In other words, he still harbored the desire to make a name for himself in the martial world, which was why he was now offering to swear allegiance as a subordinate.
'Having another fast-moving ally would make Seo Jin-ha's situation safer.'
Bu Eun-seol had his adjutant, So-yo, but Seo Jin-ha had no one by his side to relay messages.
But if it were Tak Il-hon—the man known as the Flying Demon?
He would gain an adjutant capable of matching So-yo's efficiency.
However, that would mean...
Another person in this world would come to know all of Bu Eun-seol's secrets.
'Can I really trust someone based on a fleeting connection?'
Bu Eun-seol had never been one to trust others easily.
And if that person was one of the Great Demons of the martial world, it was even more unlikely.
'Should I take this risk for Seo Jin-ha's sake?'
Tak Il-hon still carried the pure ambitions of a young martial artist.
He wanted to leave a monumental mark on the martial world.
And to achieve that, he was willing to pledge his loyalty to Bu Eun-seol.
"I'm sorry."
Even knowing Tak Il-hon's sincerity, Bu Eun-seol refused firmly.
"Others might seek to gather as many capable subordinates as they can, but I am not one of them."
He drew in a deep breath and shook his head.
"I do not wish for others bound by their own fates to become entangled in my personal vengeance."
"...I understand."
Tak Il-hon lowered his head.
He had already given sufficient explanation and persuasion. Yet if his mind remained unchanged, there was nothing more to be done.
"May you achieve what you desire."
Then, without hesitation, he drew a sharp stone knife from his robes and stabbed it toward his own throat.
He had long kept such a blade hidden within his sleeves.
Crunch!
Bu Eun-seol instantly flicked his fingers, sending out a burst of Finger Wind that shattered the stone knife.
"What are you doing?"
"Stay out of it."
Tak Il-hon's eyes were dull, like those of a dead fish.
Though he had been imprisoned in the Repentance Cave for years, the storm in his heart had never died.
And now, having finally met a man who would stand tall in the Martial World, he had dared to hope once more—
Yet even that had been thwarted, and with it, his will to live.
'Is this, too, fate?'
Bu Eun-seol exhaled slowly.
It was meant to be a solitary revenge. Yet another man had stepped into the orbit of his destiny.
"Very well."
Bu Eun-seol let out another deep sigh and extended his fingers.
Swish! Crack-crack-crack!
Dozens of strands of Finger Wind pierced Tak Il-hon's acupoints, and a surge of violent True Qi began flooding through his meridians.
Huum!
For an instant, Tak Il-hon's body floated a mere inch off the ground before settling back down.
"This is—"
Tak Il-hon's eyes widened.
He realized Bu Eun-seol had not channeled the energy into his dantian—but directly into his Eight Extraordinary Meridians, dispersing the immense True Qi throughout them.
This way, even without internal energy stored in his dantian, he could move like a master for a time.
"You are an adept of movement techniques. I trust you can slip out of Shaolin undetected on your own."
Rip.
Bu Eun-seol tore a strip from his sleeve and, using his Internal Power, traced the Twin Dragons Vying for the Pearl emblem onto it.
"Go to the Death Shadow War Unit of the Demon Hall and seek the Sanghak Unit Commander, Yu Un-ryong."
"..."
"Tell him everything that has transpired. He will summon the Medicine King Faction Lord to treat you and send you to Langya Pavilion."
"The Medicine King Faction Lord? Langya Pavilion?"
"Indeed. Once there, they will fully restore your leg. When your body is whole again, I will entrust you with certain tasks."
"W-wait a moment."
Tak Il-hon's eyes bulged in disbelief.
Gyo Jung-hak, the Medicine King Faction Lord of the Demon Hall—
He was a man who would not lift a finger unless ordered by the Demonic Heavenly Emperor or the Dark King, Yeop Hyo-cheon.
And yet, with nothing but a torn emblem, Bu Eun-seol claimed he could summon Gyo Jung-hak for treatment?
And what of Langya Pavilion, one of the Demonic Path Ten Gates?
"Just who the hell are you?"
"The successor of Langya Pavilion. And the Martial Soul Lord of the Demon Hall."
"Successor of Langya Pavilion and Martial Soul Lord of the Demon Hall?"
Tak Il-hon's gaze wavered.
"Then you are the successor to the Demonic Heavenly Emperor?"
"That is correct."
Tak Il-hon's mouth fell open.
He had known Bu Eun-seol's martial arts were extraordinary—but he had assumed his status was far humbler.
If he held such a high position, he should have been able to command countless subordinates. There would have been no need for him to come personally to this perilous Repentance Cave.
Yet here he was—the chosen successor to inherit the Demon Hall after the Demonic Heavenly Emperor?
"Why did you come here yourself? Why go to such lengths?"
"I told you already."
Bu Eun-seol spoke calmly.
"I am but a wanderer drifting through the Martial World for vengeance. I have avoided dragging others into danger for my personal affairs... as much as possible."
Then he briefly explained his circumstances—
His grandfather's death, the Three Realms, and the tangled web of events surrounding himself.
"So it was true."
Tak Il-hon's eyes shimmered like rippling water.
"Even the position of Heir of the Demon Hall means nothing to you..."
He shook his head, as if ashamed.
"Here I am, old as I am, still clinging to fame and authority."
"There is nothing wrong with that."
Bu Eun-seol let out a soft breath through his nose.
"Isn't the pursuit of fame and power the very essence of a martial artist? It is because of such men that the Martial World endures."
"Ah... perhaps you're right."
Tak Il-hon smiled faintly, as if he had realized something.
Then he pressed his palms together and bowed deeply to Bu Eun-seol.
"Let me spend what remains of my life walking beside you—to the very end."
"It will not be easy."
Bu Eun-seol's voice was low.
"If you wish to stand at my side, you must possess the strength to do so."
Even So-yo, with his exceptional talent, had needed much time before becoming the Vice Chief of the Death Soul Squad.
"Even if Flying Demon excels in movement techniques and martial arts, to truly assist Bu Eun-seol and Seo Jin-ha..."
He would need to become someone more deeply versed in the currents of the martial world than anyone else.
Perhaps his training period would stretch far longer than even So-yo's had.
"I'll give it my all."
A passion akin to that of a young man in his prime burned in Tak Bi-hon's eyes.
'Good enough.'
Bu Eun-seol gave a slight nod.
A person's life could change depending on when, where, and whom they met.
Tak Il-hon, beneath the Repentance Cave, had found a new life and purpose under Bu Eun-seol.
Bu Eun-seol and Tak Il-hon immediately left the Repentance Cave.
Using the Reverse Polarity True Qi Bu Eun-seol had dispersed through his meridians, Tak Il-hon instantly activated a covert movement technique and slipped out of Shaolin.
If he fully recovered his body and regained his martial arts, the murim would once again witness the return of Flying Demon—a Peerless Grandmaster of Lightness Study.
Meanwhile, Bu Eun-seol exited the cave and immediately headed toward Blood Shaolin's secret passage.
Abbot Dam-jeung of Blood Shaolin.
Now, through his mouth, Bu Eun-seol intended to confirm:
What exactly does Shaolin know?
And just who was Grandfather within Shaolin?
Thud. Thud.
Without the slightest intention of hiding himself, Bu Eun-seol strode confidently toward the secret passage.
Whoosh.
Before he knew it, faint presences began to stir around him from all directions.
Yet Bu Eun-seol walked on, expressionless, as if he sensed nothing at all.
Soon, he reached the end of the passage, where a massive iron gate loomed.
This was the very gate where the Divine Calculator had once installed mechanisms to test Bu Eun-seol in the past.
Groan.
As he approached, the heavy iron gate swung open on its own with a deep, resonant sound.
Beyond it lay a vast Great Hall—and within, countless warrior monks stood waiting.
Each monk bore a grotesque and unique appearance.
One had a right arm thick as a log. Another's left eyeball was dyed pure white.
Some had stitched wounds covering their bodies like tattered rags, while others had only a single finger remaining.
Not a single one among them possessed an unmarred physique.
It was as if they had abandoned their bodies, their very lives—all to master some form of martial art.
Thud. Thud.
Then, a gaunt monk with only a single finger stepped forward to block Bu Eun-seol's path.
Why have you come here?
What is your identity?
The monk asked none of these questions.
This was Blood Shaolin's headquarters.
Bu Eun-seol was an intruder from the outside. No exchange of words was necessary.
Huuung—
A tremendous surge of energy whirled from the monk's lone finger—
Flash!
In an instant, a blinding streak of light shot toward Bu Eun-seol.
One-Finger Zen Art.
The fastest and most powerful finger technique in Shaolin, though its weaknesses lay in its difficulty to master and its limited range.
Yet the One-Finger Zen unleashed by this monk, who had only a single finger left, carried the force of a hundred monks striking at once.
Its range blanketed the entire stone chamber, leaving no room to evade.
But the moment the light erupted, Bu Eun-seol was already pressed flat against the ceiling.
Flash!
Simultaneously, a glint of light flickered—
Thud.
The monk's last remaining finger fell to the floor.
With a single slash of the stone knife he carried, Bu Eun-seol had severed it clean off.
"How?"
The now fingerless monk asked as Bu Eun-seol landed.
"If your ultimate technique was the Finger Art, you should have hidden your finger."
A monk with only one finger left? Naturally, his martial art would be something like the One-Finger Zen—a devastating finger strike.
And since he had boldly stood in Bu Eun-seol's path... it was only logical to deduce that the range of his technique would be vast.
"..."
The monk gazed calmly at his severed finger—
Crunch.
Then, without hesitation, he struck his own Heavenly Spirit acupoint and ended his life.
To master Blood Shaolin's One-Finger Zen Art, he had cut off all nine of his other fingers.
But now, with even his last finger gone, he could no longer remain as a warrior monk of Blood Shaolin.
And so, without regret, he severed his own life.
'This is Blood Shaolin.'
To protect Shaolin, they would do anything.
To grow stronger, they would use any method.
They wore the guise of Shaolin, but this place was a gathering of madmen consumed by frenzy.
Groan. Groan.
This time, a monk with a left eye dyed white stepped forward.
The moment their gazes met, Bu Eun-seol's head spun violently, and his vision blurred as if the entire world were shaking.
This was a different kind of Mind-Seizing Art, distinct from the Spirit Summoning Secret Voice.
Splat!
But before the warrior monk's white-tinged eyeballs could fully focus, blood erupted from them.
Unbeknownst to the monk, Bu Eun-seol had already flicked out a Finger Wind, piercing straight through his pupils.
"Mind-Seizing Arts? How tedious."
For Bu Eun-seol, who had already achieved the Spiritual Aperture Breakthrough, attacks on the spirit and mind—whether through the Spirit Summoning Secret Voice or other Mind-Seizing Secret Art—no longer held any power.
And above all, eyes tainted with unnatural hues were always a target for caution.
The moment Bu Eun-seol saw the eerie colors swirling in the monk's gaze, he instantly recognized the impending Mind-Seizing Art and retaliated with a Finger Wind.
"So the warrior monks of Blood Shaolin have a habit of revealing their specialties to their enemies in advance, do they?"
At Bu Eun-seol's words,
Thud. Thud.
This time, an exceptionally tall monk, his eyes bound by a strip of black cloth, stepped forward.
Then, he extended a finger and flicked it—a challenge to strike first.
Snap!
Without hesitation, Bu Eun-seol swung his stone knife, unleashing a razor-sharp flash of light.
He had executed the Meteor Chasing Moon technique using the crude blade.
Whoosh.
Yet the blindfolded monk twisted his body effortlessly, evading the attack as if he had predicted Bu Eun-seol's movements in advance.
Flash! Flash!
A massive cross-shaped sword qi erupted in rapid succession, crashing down behind the monk—
Ssskkt!
—just as a violet lightning bolt sliced diagonally across his throat.
After sealing off all escape routes with the Waning Moon Morning Star's colossal cross-slash, Bu Eun-seol had followed up with the ultimate killing sword: the Peerless Thunderbolt.
Tap.
But something astonishing happened.
The blindfolded monk, as if anticipating Bu Eun-seol's opening moves, had already stepped out of range of both the Waning Moon Morning Star and the Peerless Thunderbolt.
'So that's how it is.'
Bu Eun-seol realized the monk was detecting disturbances in the air, predicting his movements before they happened.
'A deeper mastery of the Resonance Mind Eye, it seems.'
The Way of the Beast's Resonance Mind Eye also allowed one to perceive the flow of air, predicting an enemy's movements or the trajectory of hidden weapons.
But this monk had surpassed that—he was flawlessly anticipating every one of Bu Eun-seol's strikes.
"Is this the extent of Blood Shaolin's skill?"
Bu Eun-seol shook his head in disdain.
"There are countless ways to heighten one's senses. Must you resort to such absurd theatrics—blindfolding yourself like a fool?"
His voice dripped with contempt and mockery.
"The martial world is filled with techniques that let you sense the flow of air without needing to cover your eyes."
"Hmph."
The blindfolded monk snorted in response.
At the same time, in an instant, he tore away the cloth covering his eyes.
But that was a fatal mistake.
His pride had been provoked, and in his eagerness to prove himself, he should never have removed the blindfold.
Because that was exactly the reaction Bu Eun-seol had been waiting for.
Sssk—
The monk used his right arm to rip the blindfold away in one swift motion.
And in perfect sync with that movement, Bu Eun-seol unleashed the Caged Bird Longing for Clouds.
Tuk.
The sword qi that split the air passed clean through the monk's right forearm as he tore at the cloth.
The monk froze like a statue, the blindfold still half-removed.
Thud.
His thick forearm hit the ground.
Their martial arts were formidable, but unfortunately, from Bu Eun-seol's perspective, they were riddled with flaws.
"You're wasting my time."
Bu Eun-seol's voice cut through the surrounding monks as he called out beyond them.
"Will you keep playing these childish games?"
"Childish games, you say?"
Then, parting the crowd of monks, a gaunt figure stepped forward.
A withered old monk, barely five feet tall, with narrow, slitted eyes.
His wrinkled face was creased with a sly, almost greasy smile.
This was the abbot of Blood Shaolin—Dam-jeung.
"How could I pass up the chance to hear the orthodox successor of Langya Pavilion—renowned for its Practical Combat Martial Arts—point out the flaws in Blood Shaolin's techniques?"
Shockingly, he had seen through Bu Eun-seol's disguise as Seol-so.
Not only that, but within Dam-jeung's narrowed eyes flickered a sinister, unhinged light.
The madness of a man who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals—ruthless, cunning, and utterly depraved.
"And what better opportunity to study the martial arts—and weaknesses—of the Demon Hall's successor?"
Despite being the abbot leading Blood Shaolin, Dam-jeung seemed to view the monks he had painstakingly trained as nothing more than expendable tools.
"Still... since you're within Shaolin's embrace, this lord showed you the courtesy of treating you as human."
A bloody light rose in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"But if you insist on being nothing more than rabid dogs... I'll simply wipe you all out."