Chapter 596
The three martial artists burst into incredulous laughter.
"You really think the two of you can take us?"
"Must be out of their minds."
"To still talk big after tasting the Three-Absolute Demon Lord's Three Absolute Arts—what a joke."
They sneered and snickered, but Bu Eun-seol and Bukgung Ryeong ignored them, bickering between themselves.
"These bastards—!"
Unable to stand it any longer, one of the three martial artists standing at the front unleashed a palm strike.
A violent surge of qi erupted around Bu Eun-seol and Bukgung Ryeong, followed instantly by a deafening explosion.
It was the first of the Three-Absolute Demon Arts—the Palm Absolute: Demon Dragon Blast.
BOOM.
Yet the attack crashed against a massive black wall—Bu Eun-seol had already blocked it with the Willful True Binding.
"We're in the middle of talking here!"
Bukgung Ryeong, with his hand raised, flicked his wrist, sending forth a streak of purple lightning—his signature Purple Lightning Golden Pellets.
"Hmph."
The second masked man snorted, stretching his arms upward and downward, assuming the stance of Heaven Earth Dividing Strike.
A spherical barrier of hardened qi formed around the three martial artists, effortlessly deflecting the pellets.
This was the second of the Three Absolute Arts—the Force Absolute: Golden Vortex Rebounding Force.
SWOOSH!
At the same time, a whistling sound pierced the air.
At first, it was too faint to hear, but in an instant, it sharpened into a screech that threatened to split eardrums.
A razor-sharp saber energy slashed downward toward Bukgung Ryeong's vital points—
The Saber Absolute: Blood-Remnant Thunder-Remnant Saber.
CLANG CLANG CLANG CLANG!
But Bu Eun-seol, who had already drawn his Ink Soul Sword, stepped forward and deflected every last shred of the saber's energy.
"...!"
The expressions of the three martial artists twisted in an instant.
The Three Absolute Arts they had mastered were at a level where even the Bullet King shouldn't have been able to withstand them.
But with Bu Eun-seol standing beside him—his martial prowess nearly equal—
The Three Absolute Arts suddenly seemed like nothing more than the mediocre techniques of some washed-up martial artist running a second-rate dojo.
BOOM!
One of the masked men, trying to block Bu Eun-seol's swordplay, was struck by Bukgung Ryeong's pellets and vomited blood.
"Ghk—!"
Another, attempting to evade the pellets, lost an arm to Bu Eun-seol's Nine Dragons Flashing Thunder.
"That one's mine!"
"Stay out of it!"
Bu Eun-seol and Bukgung Ryeong, irritated that their targets kept getting injured by each other's attacks, grew increasingly frustrated.
"Stop interfering!"
"Who are you to talk?!"
Finally, after exchanging a sharp glance, the two unleashed their martial arts simultaneously.
KWA—AAAAAA...!
As Bu Eun-seol's Transcendent Waning Moon Morning Star and Bukgung Ryeong's Purple Lightning Golden Pellets flew forth together—
"A-ah, no—!"
The masked man preparing to unleash Demon Dragon Blast could only scream in horror, his mouth agape.
SLASH! BOOM!
Struck by both sword energy and pellets, his body was torn apart and exploded in all directions.
THUD.
The two remaining injured martial artists trembled as they stared at Bu Eun-seol.
"So you... are the Heir of the Demon Hall."
In the history of the murim, the superlative martial experts who had ascended to the Seat of the Four Gods and Seven Kings had never once joined forces in a combined attack.
Bu Eun-seol and Bukgung Ryeong.
Yet when these two unleashed their martial arts—even while bickering—their combined might surpassed even the force required to split heaven and earth.
Even if the Three-Absolute Demon Lord were to rise from his grave, he wouldn't have been able to withstand it.
FWOOSH!
Realizing their chances of victory were nonexistent—
PSHHHH—!
The two masked men immediately severed their own heart meridians, committing suicide on the spot.
THUD.
As the masked men collapsed, blood gushing from their mouths, Bukgung Ryeong let out a bitter scoff.
"Damn it. Now it looks like I teamed up with you just to save my own skin."
CRACKLE!
Ignoring Bukgung Ryeong's irritation, Bu Eun-seol unleashed his Hot River Great Essence True Qi, immediately incinerating the three corpses in scorching heat.
"Boy, was it really necessary to desecrate the corpses of men who already took their own lives?"
Bu Eun-seol sighed at Bukgung Ryeong's disapproval.
"Even now, you still don't operate an intelligence network, do you?"
"What?"
"The Return-to-One Realm executes a Great Art—harnessing the power of deceased masters through their corpses. That's why we must burn them without fail."
"Wait, the Return-to-One Realm?"
With no other choice, Bu Eun-seol recounted everything he had experienced on Cold Moon Island.
After listening in silence for a long while, Bukgung Ryeong's expression turned blank, his mouth slightly agape.
"That... That doesn't even sound like martial arts. It's closer to Esoteric Ritual Arts."
"Hasn't the Three Realms been reviving long-extinct factions all this time? Restoring lost Esoteric Ritual Arts and Great Arts shouldn't be that difficult for them."
"...Hah."
Bukgung Ryeong let out a deep sigh, shaking his head.
Even when he first learned of the Three Realms—the Three Realms controlling the murim—
He had believed that, somehow, he could handle them with his own strength.
But as time passed—
He realized their roots ran deeper and wider than he could have ever imagined, far beyond what his power alone could contend with.
'But this kid...'
Bu Eun-seol was different.
The Three Realms, which he had spent over thirty years trying to track down—
In just a few short years, Bu Eun-seol had been dismantling their factions one by one, relentlessly defeating them in detail.
"Shameful."
As Bukgung Ryeong hung his head in dejection, Bu Eun-seol saw through his thoughts and shook his head.
"No need for self-reproach. Didn't I tell you? The era of the Murim's Lone Independent is over."
"Then what do you expect this old man to do? After roaming the martial world alone my whole life, should I now start mingling with people, laughing and making friends? Or perhaps I should form a 'Bullet King Faction'?"
Bukgung Ryeong's voice was thick with frustration as he snapped. Bu Eun-seol replied calmly.
"Why worry? If the elder is willing, there's a place that can provide him with vast intelligence networks and capable subordinates."
"What are you talking about?"
"The Martial Alliance."
Bu Eun-seol's tone was firm.
"At any rate, the elder has also been marked by the Three Realms due to some constellation fate. If you're not planning to come to my side, then now's the time to join them instead."
"Constellation?"
"Yes."
"What constellation?"
Reluctantly, Bu Eun-seol recounted everything—from his encounter with Yang Seol-rin to the incident with the Earthly Killing Star, and finally, the moment he discovered the glass tube inscribed with Bukgung Ryeong's name in the underground facility of Cold Moon Island.
"Hoh."
Bukgung Ryeong's eyes narrowed.
Families and beings spoken of like legends that had once been spoken of like myths were now emerging one after another in reality.
"So the Three Realms, who have always controlled the martial world from the shadows, aren't actually hidden—they're an exposed faction... and beneath them lies another force entirely?"
"That's the gist of it."
"And you want me to go to that den of vile scoundrels, the Martial Alliance? I refuse."
"A lotus does not rot in dirty water."
When Bukgung Ryeong stubbornly rejected the idea, Bu Eun-seol persuaded him again in a measured tone.
"A person can change where they stand, depending on their resolve. Why not enter not to be tainted, but to do what is right?"
"Hmm."
"Think of it not as joining the Martial Alliance to save your life, but as entering to uphold justice."
Bukgung Ryeong's expression shifted to one of shame at Bu Eun-seol's words.
Not a single thing he said was wrong.
Joining the Martial Alliance didn't necessarily mean being corrupted by them.
In fact, if he took the lead in doing what was right, he might even steer them toward righteousness.
'Just what has this brat lived through to possess such profound insight?'
Bukgung Ryeong sighed as he studied Bu Eun-seol.
What kind of life had he led to gain such deep wisdom at such a young age?
"Very well."
Bukgung Ryeong nodded and met Bu Eun-seol's gaze.
"I'll go to the Martial Alliance."
There would be no more Murim's Lone Independent.
Just like Bu Eun-seol, Bukgung Ryeong would now have to build his own faction to oppose the Three Realms.
After leaving Ghost Island, Bu Eun-seol immediately parted ways with Bukgung Ryeong and headed for the Demon Hall.
Now that he knew the shocking methods and goals of the Return-to-One Realm, he couldn't afford to stand idly by.
Unlike the Infinite Realm or the Azure River Realm,
the Return-to-One Realm was using the bodies of past martial legends as vessels for their Great Art,
seeking to birth new powerhouses.
Regardless of orthodox or unorthodox affiliations, such acts could never be tolerated.
The thought had struck him—shouldn't all the high-ranking leaders of the martial world be made aware of this?
'No, not the Demon Hall.'
The Supreme Cult Commander could not be trusted.
Even if the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had ended his seclusion and was present, it would be no different.
Though they had established their nest within the Demon Hall,
he couldn't discuss matters concerning the Three Realms with them.
Because even if they weren't part of the Three Realms, they were still deeply entangled with them.
'Then—'
Bu Eun-seol gazed at the distant sky.
He had a home.
And within it, figures he could consider the elders of his household.
Langya Pavilion.
Bu Eun-seol was going to Langya Pavilion.
"It's grown even larger."
Upon arriving at the foot of Sword Brow Mountain, Bu Eun-seol's eyes widened as he surveyed the surroundings.
Originally, reaching Langya Pavilion required ascending to the mountain's midsection.
But now, it wouldn't be an exaggeration to say they had expanded to occupy the entire mountain.
"The days of Langya Pavilion being called a 'small but elite' faction are long gone."
Once notorious as a sinister sect that produced half-crippled martial fanatics,
it had now become a school where the prodigies of the Demonic Path flocked incessantly to train.
In no time, it had risen to rival the Fire Rain Sword Sect, which held the foremost position among the Demonic Path Ten Gates.
"Yet some things never change."
A proud smile touched Bu Eun-seol's lips as he observed the scenery of Sword Brow Mountain.
A typical sect, upon expanding its scale,
would have erected grand and imposing structures to flaunt its authority and prestige.
But Langya Pavilion had only expanded its living quarters to accommodate more disciples,
along with countless training grounds and martial trial halls for instruction.
Not only that—as the number of disciples grew, Langya Pavilion, refusing to rely on support from the Fleeting Moment Boat,
had begun expanding its farmland from the immediate vicinity to the entire mountain.
—No matter the task, it can be integrated with martial arts for training!
The masters of Langya Pavilion trained their disciples' bodies even as they plowed fields and drew water.
Thus, half the area around Sword Brow Mountain was covered in training grounds,
while the other half was filled with fields cultivating various crops.
"This is something only our pavilion could pull off."
To the eyes of other sects, disciples plowing fields and hauling water might seem somewhat ridiculous.
But to Bu Eun-seol's gaze,
it was a terrifying Demon-Subduing Palace, where true martial devotees ceaselessly researched the Martial Way in every waking moment.
In truth, even as they plowed, they contemplated the fundamentals of martial techniques.
Even as they drew water, they pondered the countless principles of martial arts.
No matter their standing or circumstances,
Langya Pavilion never forgot its duty—relentlessly pursuing the utmost limits of the Martial Way.
Crunch, crunch.
As Bu Eun-seol stepped into the entrance of Langya Pavilion, a small pavilion that hadn't been there before came into view.
And there, two elderly men were playing go.
Master Blacksmith Wang Geol and the Demon Swordsmith—the one who had crafted the scabbard for Bu Eun-seol.
'Playing at being immortals, I see.'
Bu Eun-seol's lips curled into a silent smile.
With disciples flooding Sword Brow Mountain in such numbers, Langya Pavilion had begun recruiting martial instructors separately, much like the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
So-jeon had been reluctantly promoted to Chief Instructor, while Je Un, the former deputy leader, took over as the new head of the Innovation Unit.
Unbeknownst to many, the transfer of authority between the old and new generations had already begun within Langya Pavilion.
Thanks to this, Wang Geol, who had been unofficially acting as Chief Instructor, could now enjoy a comfortable retirement-like life.
"Master Blacksmith, Demon Swordsmith."
Bu Eun-seol bowed respectfully to Wang Geol and the Demon Swordsmith.
"What brings you here?"
Wang Geol, holding a go stone, blinked in surprise upon seeing Bu Eun-seol.
"Arriving without notice again?"
He then clicked his tongue and gestured toward the Demon Swordsmith.
"Are you planning to make this old man pick up his hammer again? Why can't you keep your promises?"
"That's not it at all."
Bu Eun-seol scratched his head awkwardly.
"Last time, there were unavoidable circumstances. That's why I had to ask again."
At this, the Demon Swordsmith waved his hand dismissively.
"Ah, enough. If I say it's fine, why are you making a fuss?"
"No, it's just—this brat barged into the main pavilion again without warning—"
"Is it so strange for a man to enter his own home? Why make a big deal out of it?"
The Demon Swordsmith glared at Wang Geol with narrowed eyes.
"Or are you just stalling because you're losing? Stop wasting time and make your move."
"Urgh."
Wang Geol swallowed his frustration—he had been hoping to buy time by using Bu Eun-seol as an excuse.
Though he prided himself on being a master of go, it seemed his skills still fell short compared to the Demon Swordsmith's.
"I was just passing by. Please don't mind me and enjoy your game."
After a brief bow, Bu Eun-seol moved on. The two old men nodded and immediately refocused on their match.
—HAAAP!
As Bu Eun-seol reached the heart of Langya Pavilion, thunderous shouts echoed from the training grounds scattered throughout the area.
The ones training were young boys, none older than ten, learning the basics of martial arts from the pavilion's younger instructors.
The Demonic Path Families, eager to have their children trained in martial arts, had sent them to Langya Pavilion at an early age.
Talent was all that mattered—whether they were orphans, street urchins, or beggars.
Once word spread, Langya Pavilion became a sect where gifted children sought admission of their own accord.
"Lord!"
One of the young instructors, spotting Bu Eun-seol, came running over in a fluster.
It was Gang Un, one of the boys Bu Eun-seol had rescued from Wicked Incense's clutches in the past.
"What brings you here?"
At his words, the bright-eyed gazes of all the children in the training ground turned toward Bu Eun-seol.
"Just passing through. Don't mind me—attend to your duties."
"Ah, understood!"
Though Gang Un returned to his post, the children's stares remained fixed on Bu Eun-seol.
—That's the Martial Soul Lord?
—Must be. They said he's strikingly handsome and unusually tall.
Murmur, murmur.
The reason these snot-nosed brats had joined Langya Pavilion?
It was simple—they wanted to follow in the footsteps of the man who had risen from being the Ten Demonic Heir to the heir of the Demon Hall itself.
Bu Eun-seol.
—But he doesn't seem to be practicing any martial arts at all...
—Maybe it's someone else? I heard the Demon Hall has a few young lords.
The children blinked in confusion.
Just then, a lanky man approached, yawning loudly.
It was Je Un, the newly appointed leader of the Innovation Unit.
"Bu Eun-seol? What brings you here all of a sudden?"
Though his voice wasn't particularly loud, it resonated clearly through the quiet expanse of Sword Brow Mountain.
—BANG! CRASH! THUD!
Doors flung open, water buckets were dropped, and the sound of someone tripping in their haste—
A cacophony of noise erupted as if a herd of cattle had stampeded through.
—RUMBLE!
Disciples tilling fields, drawing water, refining martial techniques in secluded training halls, or practicing forms in the training grounds—
All of them swarmed toward Bu Eun-seol in an instant.
—That's the Martial Soul Lord!
Too awed to approach, they watched from a distance, their faces filled with reverence.
The future Number One of the Demonic Path.
Not a single soul doubted that he would soon ascend to that throne.
Bu Eun-seol smiled gently, meeting each of their gazes one by one.
For now, that was all he could offer them.
"What is the meaning of this?!"
A booming voice cut through the crowd as a towering middle-aged man barked at the gathered disciples.
"Who gave you permission to abandon your training?!"
It was So-jeon, now Chief Instructor of Langya Pavilion after succeeding Wang Geol.
"Chief Instructor."
Bu Eun-seol bowed to him, prompting So-jeon to let out a dry chuckle.
"So this is what all the commotion is about. You're here."
Since becoming Chief Instructor, So-jeon's presence had grown even more imposing.
"Here to see the Deputy Pavilion Master?"
"Yes."
"Then hurry along. If you linger, these disciples won't get anything done—too busy staring at you."
"My apologies."
"No need for that."
So-jeon studied Bu Eun-seol's face impassively before asking,
"Nothing's wrong, is there?"
He could tell—despite Bu Eun-seol's smile, a shadow lingered in his eyes.
"Of course not."
Meeting So-jeon's steady gaze, warmth spread through Bu Eun-seol's chest.
No matter what position one attains, no matter what level of Martial Prowess one reaches—
Before the personages of Langya Pavilion, one remains forever the youngest disciple.