Chapter 481
Whoosh—!
Black Blade Rings materialized around Bu Eun-seol's body.
It didn't matter if the blade was carved from stone. With his internal energy, he could have conjured razor-sharp Blade Rings even with a pair of chopsticks.
Bzzzt—!
As the Blade Rings rose in all directions, Dam-jeung's eyes widened in shock.
"That is—!"
Even if one possessed Blade Essence, this was an ultimate blade technique that could not be executed unless one's spirit and mind were in perfect harmony.
Was this not the Bloody Tears Seven Forms of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade, Bu Jan-yang?
Swish—!
And from between those Blade Rings, black Sword Qi surged forth.
Bloody Tears Seven Forms, First Move: Life is a Sojourn, Death is a Return.
This was the same method used by the Nameless Old Man, who had spent his life imprisoned in the Repentance Cave, wielding the Bloody Tears Seven Forms in place of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade.
"Evade it—!"
One of the warrior monks shouted, but the Sword Qi had already spread like a storm cloud.
Screeeech—!
A chilling friction sound echoed in all directions as the inky Sword Qi began slicing through the monks' bodies.
Shlik! Schwaaak!
They tried to block or dodge the black Sword Qi, but it was futile.
Weapons shattered upon contact, and hands were severed when they attempted to parry.
Those who fled to escape the Sword Qi found it rapidly expanding, coiling around them like a serpent.
Screeeech—!
It was as though the claws of a demon were raking through the air.
BOOM! CRAAASH!
Realizing they could not withstand the spreading Sword Qi, the warrior monks of Blood Shaolin unleashed the destructive Seventy-Two Supreme Arts in unison.
These techniques were not only several times more powerful than the standard Shaolin Seventy-Two Supreme Arts but also incorporated numerous lethal killing moves.
Yet Bu Eun-seol paid them no mind and shifted his blade technique once more.
—Reaching a state where one does not know whether they will live or die...
He executed the Bloody Tears Seven Forms, Third Move: Half-Alive, Half-Dead, not as Blade Rings, but as pure Sword Qi.
Sssshhk! Sssshhk!
As the black Sword Qi spread like the claws of a demon, the dozens of warrior monks surrounding Bu Eun-seol froze in place.
"..."
Their bodies, split diagonally from shoulder to lower abdomen, gushed crimson blood.
The cuts were so swift and precise that they wouldn't even realize they had been bisected unless they saw it with their own eyes.
And so, so cruel.
Schwaaak—!
Simultaneously, over a dozen warrior monks collapsed into pools of blood.
"Now then..."
Bu Eun-seol, his crimson eyes burning as he stared down at Dam-jeung, spoke in an impossibly low voice.
"Let's test just how strong the leader of Blood Shaolin truly is."
"Heh heh heh..."
Dam-jeung observed the hellscape Bu Eun-seol had painted before suddenly bursting into Mad Laughter.
"Ahahaha—!"
Laughing like a madman as he extended a finger, Dam-jeung nodded.
"Good. This much proves you're not the Messenger of the Three Realms."
"What did you say?"
Bu Eun-seol's brow twitched, and Dam-jeung clasped his hands behind his back.
"Follow me."
"Nonsense. Blood Shaolin will be destroyed."
A solemn light flickered in Bu Eun-seol's eyes.
"Under the pretense of protecting Shaolin, you've brutally slaughtered innocent disciples—!"
"They were not disciples of our temple."
Dam-jeung chuckled darkly.
"Every warrior monk you've cut down so far was an evil person—those who murdered innocent civilians or raped and murdered women."
"What are you saying?"
Dam-jeung gazed at the dismembered monks.
"Blood Shaolin experiments on and refines our temple's martial arts using those who are beyond redemption."
Turning his head, he locked eyes with Bu Eun-seol.
"Sometimes, we gouge out eyes, sever tongues, or amputate limbs. All to understand how we can further advance our temple's martial arts."
Bu Eun-seol's brow furrowed.
He had never imagined such circumstances lay behind Blood Shaolin.
"Of course, you'd call this cruelty. And you'd be right—especially for those who have devoted themselves to the Buddhist Order."
Dam-jeung exhaled a turbid breath and looked up at the sky.
"But if not me, who else would descend into hell?"
"..."
"Throughout history, our temple has been invaded countless times by external enemies, yet we've survived. The reason Shaolin has endured for a millennium is because of Blood Shaolin's contributions."
Bu Eun-seol replied coldly.
"Spare me your sophistry. How is what you do any different from the Three Realms?"
"Who said it was different?"
Dam-jeung glared at Bu Eun-seol with icy eyes.
"The enemies targeting our temple grow stronger with each passing moment. That is why we, Blood Shaolin, must also grow stronger—by any means necessary."
Madness flickered in his eyes.
In those pupils, one could almost glimpse the brutal history of Shaolin—drenched in blood from endless invasions.
"I don't expect you to understand."
Dam-jeung's blazing eyes seemed to drip with bloody tears.
"To have watched my sworn brothers—those who shared meals with me like blood kin—have their heads severed, eyes gouged out, and entrails spilled by those demons... Only then would you understand."
Bu Eun-seol remained silent.
Had it meant avenging the brutal death of his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang, he too would not have hesitated—even if it meant becoming a demon himself.
And from the perspective of Shaolin, which had endured relentless calamities for a thousand years, the cruelty Bu Eun-seol had suffered could be seen as merely another repetition of their own brutal history.
"I see."
Bu Eun-seol nodded with an expression of understanding.
"If it's another sect's affair, and the dead were evil men... then I won't press the matter further."
"Hmph. How magnanimous of the Supreme Martial Lord."
Abbot Dam-jeung snorted derisively before gesturing toward the dark passageway.
Rumble—
From the passage emerged monks draped in black kasayas, slowly gathering the bodies of the fallen warrior monks.
Their movements were solemn, their lips murmuring sutras in ceaseless prayer for the dead to reach the Pure Land.
These were likely the true monks of Blood Shaolin.
"You don't seem the type to follow quietly, so let's settle things here."
Dam-jeung's gaze fixed on Bu Eun-seol.
"Just why have you crawled your way back here?"
"You know who I am?"
"Aren't you the Divine Calculator's new pawn?"
Bu Eun-seol wasn't particularly surprised.
The fact that the Divine Calculator had installed numerous mechanisms within this secret passage—
Only Blood Shaolin could have permitted such a thing.
Which meant that when Bu Eun-seol had passed through the gate, Dam-jeung had been observing everything.
"And yet, why does a green brat like you keep speaking so disrespectfully? Do you have any idea how old this monk is?"
"No."
"You—!"
Dam-jeung's eyes widened, his brows shooting up toward the heavens.
"One more word of disrespect, and I'll make sure you're framed for the murder of the abbot."
"Is that how a disciple of the Buddhist Order should speak?"
"Since when have you ever treated me as a Buddhist disciple?"
Dam-jeung bore no resemblance to a proper figure of the Buddhist Order—fitting for the abbot of Blood Shaolin.
He was a madman who could sever his own limbs with a smile if it served his purpose.
Heh.
When Bu Eun-seol let out a dry chuckle, Dam-jeung sneered.
"What? Overjoyed to find another lunatic like yourself in the murim?"
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Bu Eun-seol switched to a more formal tone and nodded.
"Fine. I'll treat you with the respect of an elder. Now answer me properly."
"Answer what?"
"The Seven Fingers Demonic Blade."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes flashed.
"What was his connection to Blood Shaolin?"
Dam-jeung narrowed his eyes.
"This monk is a man of Blood Shaolin. And everything about Blood Shaolin is a secret. Even if I knew something, I wouldn't speak of it to an outsider—let alone a man of the Demonic Path."
Yet a sinister smile curled at the corners of his lips.
Reading Dam-jeung's intentions, Bu Eun-seol replied flatly,
"Name your price."
"Straight to the point. Truly worthy of the Heir of the Demon Hall."
After lavishing him with sickly sweet praise, Dam-jeung lowered his voice.
"The martial arts of the Demon Hall Lord should suffice."
"Martial arts?"
"Blood Shaolin possesses many Demonic Path Martial Arts, but the martial arts of the Demon Hall Lord—Sado Mu-myeong—remain unknown."
A predatory gleam flickered in Dam-jeung's eyes.
"And as the Heir of the Demon Hall, you must be using his martial arts as his primary style."
During his battle with the Celestial Sword in the past,
Bu Eun-seol had publicly used the Willful True Binding, and many masters of the Orthodox and Unorthodox Factions had recognized it as the martial art of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
Dam-jeung likely knew this as well.
"If you pass down that martial art... I might be persuaded to talk."
The abbot's lips twisted into a sly smirk.
"Refuse, and leave quietly. No amount of begging will open this monk's mouth."
This was an absurd demand.
To a martial artist, their sect's secret techniques were more precious than life itself.
To leak them without permission? That was the crime of Deceiving the Master and Extinguishing the Ancestors—
A sin punishable by the execution of not just the perpetrator, but their family and all who shared ties with them.
And yet, Dam-jeung was demanding nothing less than the Ultimate Art of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
'He means to turn me into his puppet.'
If Bu Eun-seol yielded to this blackmail and handed over the Willful True Binding—
Shaolin could use it to threaten him for the rest of his life.
Or worse, they could easily frame him as a spy of the Righteous Faction.
"For a man of the Buddhist Order, you are remarkably vile and greedy."
Heh heh heh.
"Blood Shaolin was never truly part of the Buddhist Order to begin with. If it were, we would never have dared to place the word 'Blood' before the sacred name of 'Shaolin'."
Dam-jeung's slitted eyes gleamed as he spoke.
"I won't force you. But if you impart the Demon Hall Lord's martial arts, this humble monk will tell you what I know."
Then he added one more thing.
"This condition is by no means unfavorable to you either. No matter how remarkable a person you are, with just one strike of the bell—three thousand Shaolin disciples will swarm out and surround you."
That was the truth.
This was none other than an underground mechanism within Shaolin's grounds. If all of Shaolin's masters were to encircle him at full combat strength—
Even if it weren't Bu Eun-seol, but the Human Demon Ak Mu-ryeong himself, whether he could escape unscathed would remain uncertain.
"So, if I hand over the martial formula, you'll spare my life and let me leave Shaolin safely. Is that it?"
"You've understood perfectly."
"Hahaha."
Bu Eun-seol let out a low chuckle, then—
"UHAHAHAHA!"
Suddenly, a mad laughter that could shake heaven and earth erupted from him.
"More demonic than the Demonic Path itself, and more adept at threats than the lowest Black Syndicate thugs."
"I'll take that as a compliment."
As Dam-jeung laughed in response, Bu Eun-seol spoke coldly.
"If I were the type to fall for such tricks, I would've taken a different path long ago."
Crack, crack-crack.
Suddenly, the sound of bones shifting echoed from Bu Eun-seol's body, and—
Whoosh!
His body levitated into the air as hundreds of strands of True Qi elongated like countless hands.
The sight resembled a thousand-armed Guanyin statue, its form entwined with darkness and blood-red light.
Enraged, Bu Eun-seol unleashed the Demonic Energy of the Emotion Severing Secret Art, executing the Willful True Binding to its Grand Perfection.
"This is the secret art passed down by the Demonic Heavenly Emperor."
Bu Eun-seol's floating eyes radiated the aura of a Great Demonic Person—one capable of slaughtering tens of thousands as effortlessly as swatting flies.
"Try and take it from me, if you can."
Dam-jeung had misjudged.
Had he instead disclosed every detail of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade's whereabouts—
Had he simply indulged Bu Eun-seol's curiosity—
Perhaps Bu Eun-seol would have willingly presented the Willful True Binding with both hands.
After all, he was the type to dig a well in return for a single sip of water.
But by seizing his weakness and shaking him, Dam-jeung had not only failed to gain anything—he had instead detonated Bu Eun-seol's boundless killing intent.
"So you intend to fight this temple alone?"
"Too many words."
Bu Eun-seol stretched out his hand—
SHWAK!
Hundreds of strands of True Qi surged toward Dam-jeung like lightning.
Thud-thud!
Dam-jeung narrowly dodged, but the wall where he had stood shattered into hundreds of fragments, collapsing to the floor.
Rumble—
Simultaneously, warrior monks clad in black robes surrounded Bu Eun-seol, their fierce eyes gleaming.
These were the true warrior monks of Blood Shaolin—raised by Dam-jeung himself.
"You lot are hardly worth my time. Ring the bell."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes burned with a blood-red glow.
"Let every last disciple of Shaolin come."
Dam-jeung wore a momentarily dazed expression.
He had assumed it was just a bluff—
But Bu Eun-seol truly intended to fight every disciple in Shaolin.
"Do you really believe you can survive?"
"I don't know about that. But..."
Bu Eun-seol curled his lips into a vicious smile.
"I am certain I can slaughter every last promising young disciple in Shaolin—Blood Shaolin included."
His blood-drenched eyes shimmered with a killing intent so vast it defied description.
Dam-jeung's mouth fell open.
Just moments ago, Bu Eun-seol had exuded a clarity that made him seem susceptible to threats.
Yet the moment pressure was applied, he had transformed into a Great Demonic Person whose Demonic Energy rivaled even the Three Demons.
'This bastard would absolutely do it.'
If Bu Eun-seol resolved to die, but took Shaolin's young disciples with him—
Even if they could kill him, Shaolin would have to seal its gates that very day.
Young disciples were the future of a sect.
Lose them all, and—
It could take over a century to recover their vitality.
"Ghk-ghk. HAHAHAHA!"
Cornered, Dam-jeung suddenly burst into mad laughter.
"As expected, you live up to your reputation! Even in death, you'd slaughter only the young disciples! HAHAHA!"
His uproarious laughter ceased abruptly.
"Well, this humble monk has no choice but to respond."
He nodded at the warrior monks, and like a receding tide, they withdrew from their encirclement of Bu Eun-seol.
"I concede."
Dam-jeung raised both hands and smiled.
"I'll answer you."
But Bu Eun-seol remained levitating, his blood-light flickering, prompting Dam-jeung to bellow:
"You—! I said I concede! And you're still stiff-necked about it?! Don't you want to hear about the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade?! Huh?!"
Dam-jeung, leader of Blood Shaolin—
He, too, was no ordinary man.
From Bu Eun-seol's perspective, he resembled less a disciple of the Buddhist Order and more a madman of the Demonic Path.
And madmen understand each other best.
Tap.
Bu Eun-seol released his Internal Power and descended, nodding once.
"A wise choice you've made."
"Damn bastard. Who but a spawn of the Demonic Path would threaten to slaughter only the young Shaolin disciples?"
"How shameless can you be? Who was the one who threatened first?"
"Right, right. How impressive. Oh, I'm so scared."
Dam-jeung, with his hands clasped behind his back, walked deeper into the passage.
Seeing Bu Eun-seol standing still, he turned his head and snapped irritably,
"Why aren't you coming? Don't tell me you plan to squat there and talk?"
Bu Eun-seol had no choice but to follow behind Dam-jeung.
After walking through the long, dark passage for a while, a bright light poured from far ahead.
The place they finally arrived at resembled a scaled-down version of Shaolin's temple grounds.
'Not Blood Shaolin, but Cave Shaolin, it seems.'
Blood Shaolin's headquarters had, in the end, been crouching secretly beneath the main temple grounds of Shaolin.
But contrary to what was known, the scenery of Blood Shaolin was no different from any other temple.
Like the disciples of Shaolin, they too recited Buddhist scriptures and meditated. And just like the Shaolin Thirty-Six Chambers, there was a separate place dedicated to martial arts training.
Dam-jeung snorted at Bu Eun-seol's stunned expression.
"What, did you think the disciples of Blood Shaolin bathed in blood every day or practiced bizarre martial arts all the time?"
"Is that not the case?"
"Of course not."
With a proud expression, Dam-jeung gestured toward the interior of Blood Shaolin.
"These are all Shaolin disciples as well. In fact, to master the martial arts of Blood Shaolin, one must maintain a far more exceptional mindset and conduct than ordinary disciples."
Then he declared proudly,
"Only those with virtuous roots and a righteous, just disposition can enter Blood Shaolin. Even if they lack outstanding martial talent, it's the same. These are all carefully selected from among Shaolin's disciples."
Bu Eun-seol let out a dry laugh.
"Then I suppose even the head of the Arhat Hall or the Scripture Pavilion, or even the abbot, could be chosen from here."
"Hohoho. Didn't you know?"
Dam-jeung smiled coldly.
"Most of those who hold key positions in the main temple, including Scripture Pavilion Head Gonggong, are from Blood Shaolin. The only difference is that after a certain period, they must decide whether to remain as warrior monks of Blood Shaolin or return as ordinary Shaolin disciples."
That was an astonishing revelation.
Until now, he had thought Blood Shaolin was a deranged group of Shaolin's most eccentric figures.
But in reality, Shaolin's most outstanding disciples were required to enter Blood Shaolin.
And there, they decided whether to walk the path of light or shadow.
"Enough looking. Follow me."
Dam-jeung led Bu Eun-seol to a small meditation chamber at the far end of Blood Shaolin.
Not only was the chamber empty, but its walls and ceiling had been coated with a special lacquer.
Thus, no matter how loud one shouted inside, no sound would leak outside.
"To be honest, this old monk does not trust those of the Demonic Path."
Once seated, Dam-jeung shed his earlier playful demeanor.
"Many in the Demonic Path pretend to walk the Middle Path in their youth, but as they age, it's not uncommon for them to transform into figures obsessed with tyranny and authority."
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
Truthfully, to rise quickly in the Demonic Path, it was best to uphold the Middle Path.
Pursuing tyranny made it difficult to gain influence beyond loyal subordinates.
But by adhering to the Middle Path, one could build broad connections with figures from both the Orthodox and Unorthodox Paths and gain diverse support.
Thus, it wasn't rare for those in the Demonic Path to maintain the Middle Path in their youth, only to turn to tyranny in their later years.
"And yet, I'm telling you this because you are a completely deranged, madman."
"Does Blood Shaolin have some special doctrine for treating lunatics?"
"Far from it."
Dam-jeung snorted.
"A truly madman doesn't compromise with authority. The only thing they want is to achieve their goal."
"A plausible theory."
Bu Eun-seol gave a faint nod.
"Now, speak."
Then, with a grave expression, he said:
"Tell me everything you know about the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade."
From the moment he realized the shadow of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade was the Nameless Old Man,
Bu Eun-seol had understood that his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang, was the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade.
The problem was—how could a Shaolin disciple become a blade of the Demonic Path? It was utterly incomprehensible.
"Let me say this first—this monk does not know the true identity of the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade. I can only speculate that he was one of them."
"One of them?"
"Correct."
Dam-jeung's gaze grew heavier than ever.
"What I'm about to tell you is something even the abbot of this temple—no, even the highest figures of Orthodox Murim—do not know. If this were to leak..."
"Don't worry."
Understanding his implication, Bu Eun-seol cut him off sharply.
Then, with the utmost seriousness, he said:
"I swear on my life."
"Sigh."
Dam-jeung let out a deep sigh, stared into the empty air for a moment, and then spoke slowly.
"There were those believed to be the Seven Fingers Demonic Blade who once trained in martial arts at Blood Shaolin. Those who survived may have become the true Seven Fingers Demonic Blade."
"Those believed to be?"
"Yes."
As if dredging up distant memories, Dam-jeung spoke in a low voice.
"It was called the Absolute Demon Saber Plan."