Chapter 727
Bu Eun-seol looked down at the lead assassin.
"That offer to spare me—you must have said it just for fun."
Then, curling the corner of his lips, he added:
"Because you'd only get your thrill from watching me die in bitter resentment."
The lead assassin's expression froze instantly.
How could this man remain so utterly composed and relaxed while knowing they were assassins of Ghost Gate?
Could it be that some peerless Murim master was masquerading as a white-faced scholar?
'No. Impossible.'
The lead assassin was, by his own measure, a first-class killer who had even mastered an Internal Energy Method.
Had this man truly trained in proper martial arts, even the faintest ripple of internal energy should have been detectable.
Yet not the slightest fluctuation emanated from the figure before him.
"I see. So you've trained in External Arts."
A vicious light flickered in the assassin's eyes.
He concluded that Bu Eun-seol's composure stemmed from mastering an external fortification technique like the Iron Cloth Stance—hence the complete absence of internal energy vibrations.
"You should've known External Arts are only useful in one-on-one combat."
Then he immediately raised his hand.
At the signal, dozens of assassins waiting behind him drew their blades and advanced.
The dull, sour stench wafting from their swords suggested they were coated with Extreme Poison.
Several others pulled out handfuls of hidden projectiles from their pouches.
Having assumed Bu Eun-seol relied on External Arts, they intended to overwhelm him with simultaneous attacks.
Snap.
Bu Eun-seol plucked a single branch from a nearby tree.
Then he spoke to the boy beside him:
"Watch closely from now on."
"Huh?"
Before the boy could respond—
"Attack!"
At the lead assassin's command, the killers unleashed a storm of concealed weapons.
Whish-whish-whish-whish!
They moved with the practiced coordination of those accustomed to mob assaults—one group raining down projectiles while another maintained formation, slashing with poison-drenched blades in brutal Killing Moves.
Flick.
Suddenly, the branch in Bu Eun-seol's hand began tracing rapid circles from his fingertips.
Swoooosh!
With every pirouette of the spinning branch—
Fwoosh!
Fountains of blood erupted from the throats of charging assassins.
Swiish! Fwoosh! Fwoosh!
This wasn't swordsmanship—it was artistry.
Each movement of his fingers flashed light through the air, making blossoms of blood bloom from necks.
Sometimes like a gentle breeze, other times like a raging gale, his techniques sent leaves scattering like rain with every stroke.
Yet the boy stood calmly observing all these Martial Forms as if in the eye of a typhoon—protected by a dome of protective energy Bu Eun-seol had wrapped around him.
Fwoosh!
With every motion of the branch, arterial spray jetted a foot high from severed throats.
Thud. Thud.
Assassins toppled like logs without even screaming.
In less time than it takes to burn half an incense stick, the forest fell deathly silent.
Now only Bu Eun-seol, the boy, Shim Heung, and the lead assassin remained in the clearing.
"How...?"
The lead assassin's pupils had lost all focus as he turned his head.
In under half an incense stick's time, fifty subordinates had become cold corpses.
Assassins—who butchered people like meat and grew numb to others' deaths—were equally indifferent to their own demise.
They lived each day bearing death on their backs, knowing no killer wins forever.
Shudder-shudder-shudder.
Yet the lead assassin trembled violently.
What shook him wasn't fear of death.
Before him stood an unfathomable entity wielding power beyond measurement—a superhuman's Divine Authority no ordinary effort could ever hope to reach.
Quiver-quiver.
The tremors worsened until tears welled in his eyes.
That skeletal branch held by those long, beautiful fingers didn't represent a mere crossroads of life and death...
It contained a transcendent realm none had ever attained—a shattering of all established limits.
Thud.
The assassin collapsed to his knees.
Words choked in his throat as if an invisible demon gripped his neck.
His soul seemed sucked into endless cosmos, descending into an Abyss from which eons couldn't free him.
Shiver-shiver.
His body kept convulsing until—
Fshhhht!
—he finally drew his longsword across his own throat.
Unable to endure the ceaseless awe and pressure flooding his mind, he chose suicide.
Thump.
As the last assassin's corpse tumbled onto the clearing—
Hiss, whooosh!
—all the bodies suddenly glowed like charcoal before erupting into roaring flames.
To erase all traces of the Mount Heng Sect's sword techniques.
Bu Eun-seol was pouring forth his Hot River Great Essence True Qi, thoroughly cremating the corpses without leaving a trace.
Drip, drip, drip.
Shim Heung, who had been watching everything unfold, trembled uncontrollably, tears streaming down his face as he wet himself.
Blinded by greed, he had failed to recognize the Grim Reaper standing before him.
Now, all that remained was the certainty of burning alive in hellfire.
Shudder.
When his gaze met Bu Eun-seol's, Shim Heung's face turned the color of rotten pig liver.
He couldn't even muster the courage to beg for his life.
All he could do was pray that death would come without pain.
"Master."
At that moment, the boy—shaking violently—carefully knelt before Bu Eun-seol.
"P-please spare my master."
As if trying to swallow his fear, the boy pressed his forehead hard against the ground, knocking it repeatedly.
"I-I beg of you."
"Why?"
The boy didn't dare meet Bu Eun-seol's crimson-flaring eyes and kept his head bowed.
"H-he may not have been a good master... but he took care of me when I was starving, and he taught me how to handle puppets."
With his head still lowered, the boy spoke with desperate sincerity.
"He spent his whole life working with puppets, and when he finally saw a fortune within reach, he made the wrong choice. P-please, forgive him just this once."
Even as he forced the words out, the boy trembled like a leaf, consumed by terror.
Then, slowly, the flames burning like hellfire in Bu Eun-seol's eyes began to recede.
Had his own grandfather not saved him, he too would have frozen to death long ago.
Though this boy had never known the happiness of being raised by someone as noble as he had been...
Even the simple act of being fed was enough to fill him with boundless gratitude.
"Even the kindness of a single rotten dumpling is repaid for a lifetime..."
Bu Eun-seol gazed at the boy, a faint smile touching his lips.
This child not only possessed exceptional talent in martial arts but also carried the innate qualities of a future hero.
Swish.
Bu Eun-seol looked down at Shim Heung, who was still pissing himself.
Tremble, tremble.
The moment their eyes met, Shim Heung quickly averted his gaze.
Yet, he could still feel the searing pain as if his entire body were being consumed by flames.
"Raise your head."
At Bu Eun-seol's command, Shim Heung hastily lifted his face.
What met him were eyes burning like the scorching sun.
Within them lay a judgment far more solemn and severe than a thousand words.
—I'll spare your wretched life.
Understanding the unspoken decree, Shim Heung wept again.
But not out of relief for being spared.
—I've lived wrong.
Though he had taken in the beggar boy just to make him perform puppet shows, those once-lonely days had become lively because of him.
No matter how harshly he beat or scolded him, the boy remained as loyal as a puppy.
And because of him, Shim Heung—who had been drowning in alcohol—
Had thrown himself back into puppetry, finally breaking free from his crippled existence.
—Because of that child.
In the end, the boy had even saved him from the Grim Reaper's grasp.
Taking him in was the best thing he had ever done in his miserable life.
Swish.
As Bu Eun-seol turned away, Shim Heung began to retch.
It was both the rejoicing of a body narrowly escaping death and the self-loathing of a man who had long rotted from within.
"Thank you... for everything, Master."
The boy bowed deeply to Shim Heung once more.
Then, he turned to follow Bu Eun-seol as he walked away.
"I was wrong!"
Shim Heung fell to his knees.
With all his strength, he screamed.
"I'm truly sorry!"
Drip, drip.
Hearing those words, tears streamed down the boy's face as he walked.
'Thank goodness.'
Because the days they had spent together hadn't been miserable.
Because that time hadn't been wasted...
Step, step.
After walking along the mountain path behind Bu Eun-seol for a while, the boy suddenly widened his eyes in surprise.
Strangely, even as they climbed the steep hill, he wasn't out of breath.
'How odd.'
Then, he noticed a faint heat haze shimmering around Bu Eun-seol's body.
And that haze was connected to him.
'He's using martial arts to make my body lighter.'
Only then did the boy realize—
Even with those cold, ruthless eyes like the Grim Reaper's, this man's heart was endlessly warm.
"Can you replicate the sword technique you saw earlier?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, the boy answered hastily.
"I-I'm sorry. I've never trained in martial arts, so..."
"With puppets."
For a moment, the boy blinked in surprise.
When he imagined it in his mind—
Wouldn't it be entirely possible to perform those movements with a puppet?
"I think... I could manage about half of it."
Bu Eun-seol burst into laughter.
To replicate half of the Mount Heng Sect's secret sword techniques after seeing them just once?
This child truly had a genius's talent.
"I'm sorry."
Misinterpreting the laughter, the boy hastily bowed his head again.
"I-I'll do my best, even if it's lacking."
"Myeong-un."
"Huh?"
Bu Eun-seol gazed at the distant sky.
There, he could almost see the face of Myeong-un, who had died thinking of the Mount Heng Sect.
"Your name is Myeong-un."
"Myeong-un..."
The boy wore a dazed expression before suddenly breaking into a radiant smile.
"Yes."
This boy was none other than the one who would later revive the Mount Heng Sect—the thirty-second generation sect leader of Mount Heng, and the swordsman destined to become the Foremost Sword of the Righteous Faction: Myeong-un.
Deep night.
In an office flickering with lamplight, a shadow seated at the desk read through an assignment slip in hand before speaking in a low voice.
"Seon-u Jin."
The shadow placed the slip back on the table and shook its head.
"It says not only is he one of the One Hundred and Eight Stars, but he's also tracking my movements..."
As the figure rose from the seat, the refined features of a middle-aged man gradually emerged from the darkened shadows.
The Sacred Sword, Baekri Mu-jo.
Leader of the Star Guard Corps—the strongest elite unit among the Seven Great Battle Corps—and a grandmaster of sword studies, widely regarded as the next candidate for Alliance Leader.
He was now reading through an assignment slip detailing information about Seon-u Jin.
"This isn't good."
Seon-u Jin.
He went from being a candidate for the Heavenly Martial Brigade leadership to Secret Intelligence Bureau Chief, and at the same time obtained the Clear-Heart Command Token—a direct investigative authority under the Alliance Leader.
A rising grandmaster representing the Martial Alliance, newly ascended among the Four Gods and Seven Kings.
For such a man to deliberately be digging into his tracks...
"Is he from the Three Realms?"
Baekri Mu-jo's long, narrow eyes narrowed further.
"And the fact that he possesses the martial arts of the Eight Emperors and Three Stars is also troubling."
Four hundred years ago, before the Martial Emperor was wrongfully accused,
he had reigned as the Number One of the Righteous Faction, his martial prowess said to be immeasurable.
If this man—known for his exceptional intellect as the Secret Intelligence Bureau Chief—were a spy for the Three Realms,
and if he were to master the Martial Emperor's martial arts as well?
He would grow into a figure capable of overturning the Martial Alliance's power structure, and all the plans Baekri Mu-jo had meticulously laid out until now could crumble.
[We will handle it.]
A voice flowed from the darkness on the opposite side of the office, but Baekri Mu-jo waved his hand dismissively.
"Don't. His swordsmanship is formidable enough to rival even the Sword Demon."
Rubbing the letter between his fingers until it turned to dust, he spoke calmly.
"The Alliance Leader trusts him deeply, and he holds the high position of Secret Intelligence Bureau Chief. Acting recklessly would invite a backlash we cannot afford."
Baekri Mu-jo rose to his feet.
"There is only one way to confirm whether he belongs to the Three Realms or not..."
[You mean forcing him to reveal his True Body Martial Art.]
"Precisely."
The Infinite Realm, the Azure River Realm, and the Return-to-One Realm each pursue new forms of power, and their characteristics are distinctly identifiable.
If pushed to the brink of death, he would reveal his True Body Martial Art. That would expose which faction he truly belongs to.
[But his martial arts are extraordinary. If you personally intervene, your identity might be exposed...]
"Didn't we acquire a suitable identity not long ago?"
At Baekri Mu-jo's words, the voice from the darkness let out an exclamation of realization.
[With that identity... we could achieve the effect of killing two birds with one stone.]
A faint smile touched Baekri Mu-jo's lips.
"I will handle this matter myself. Stand by until then."
Click.
Without hesitation, he strode out of the office.
Thud. Thud.
After Baekri Mu-jo left, a large shadow emerged from the darkness, stepping toward the desk.
A middle-aged man clad in snow-white robes, his noble bearing evident in his hawk-like eyes and dignified features.
It was none other than Baekri Mu-jo—the same man who had just walked out of the hall moments ago.
Bu Eun-seol stayed near Mount Heng for some time, teaching the boy Myeong-un the sword techniques of the Mount Heng Sect.
Then, spending a considerable sum, he hired laborers and began reconstructing the sect's buildings from the ground up.
Rebuilding a sect was not merely about restoring its martial arts.
It required a headquarters befitting the sect's scale and a sphere of influence matching its prestige.
The buildings of the Mount Heng Sect, once situated upon the Southern Peak, had long since fallen into ruins.
And its former territory had already been absorbed by the Xuanxuan Guild.
Bu Eun-seol provided Myeong-un with only enough support to restore the sect's buildings and secure the financial means to sustain it as a functioning martial school.
The rest depended solely on Myeong-un's efforts.
He could now venture into the martial world after mastering Mount Heng's martial arts, or take in disciples and gradually expand the sect's influence.
That, too, was Myeong-un's choice and fate.
There was nothing more Bu Eun-seol could do for him.
"Train diligently."
Leaving those final words, Bu Eun-seol gazed at the sleeping Myeong-un before quietly departing.
Rustle.
The moment Bu Eun-seol left, Myeong-un rose from his bed.
Then, facing the direction his benefactor had gone, he prostrated himself in a deep bow.
Having completed all his tasks, Bu Eun-seol exited Mount Heng with an unburdened expression.
'Myeong-un, resting in the Nine Heavens, would surely be satisfied with this much.'
Bu Eun-seol headed for Xi'an Prefecture to switch identities with Seo Jin-ha.
Now that he had become the Secret Intelligence Bureau Chief, he could investigate the movements of the Seven Great Leaders without difficulty.
In some ways, the position of Bureau Chief was far more valuable than being the Heir of the Demon Hall.
Not only were the restrictions on the information he could access as a high-ranking Martial Alliance officer nearly nonexistent,
but he could also uncover some of the Alliance's secret organizations that remained hidden from public view.
The Peak Realm Members under Bu Eun-seol's command were already conducting unrestrained investigations into the activities of the Seven Great Leaders.
Xi'an Prefecture, Secret Safehouse of the Demon Hall.
"From now on, we must be truly cautious."
These were the first words Seo Jin-ha uttered upon meeting him at the safehouse.
"Not knowing might actually be the safest option."
"What are you suddenly talking about?"
"Just a passing thought—that perhaps the Demonic Heavenly Emperor clipping your wings was as much about protecting you as it was about restraining you."
Bu Eun-seol's eyes narrowed.
Truthfully, he had entertained that idea long ago.
—If he placed me as his successor yet restricted my access to the Secret Shadow Pavilion's intelligence, could it have been to shield me instead?
Not knowing, in a way, meant safety.
But what if one reached the hidden secrets?
Then they would become enemies of those who guarded them, forced to face countless dangers.
"The Seven Great Leaders are the pillars of the Martial Alliance. If word gets out that we're investigating them... we won't survive."
Seo Jin-ha was uneasy. The moment Bu Eun-seol became the Secret Intelligence Bureau Chief, he had begun scrutinizing the Seven Great Leaders—especially Baekri Mu-jo, a man of terrifying skill and influence.
"Understood. I'll be careful."
Bu Eun-seol left a faint smile, as if to reassure him.
"I won't create any dangerous situations."
"Good."
Seo Jin-ha turned away with a smirk.
"Then I'll take my leave first."
Bu Eun-seol watched him disappear into the distance before taking a deep breath.
"Forgive me."
His voice dropped to the barest whisper.
"I've already leaked the information. About Baekri Mu-jo. To provoke him."
Those who harbored ugly secrets would never tolerate anyone digging into their past.
And if they were part of a secret society like the Three Realms? The answer was obvious.
Among the Seven Great Battle Corps Leaders, Baekri Mu-jo wielded the most formidable power.
Bu Eun-seol had deliberately—
—let slip that he was investigating the man's past movements.
The Sacred Sword, Baekri Mu-jo.
He was the most suspicious of them all.
Outwardly, he appeared gentle, but in truth, his temperament was unfathomable.
A peerless grandmaster who had reinvented Harmonization, the pinnacle of martial principles, in his own way.
"There's no one else who could have killed Grandfather."
Contrary to public knowledge, Baekri Mu-jo was a superlative martial expert with immeasurable prowess and a dreadful sword technique.
Among the Seven Great Leaders, he was the only one who could have dared raise his blade against an Absolute Grandmaster like Bu Eun-seol's grandfather.
Even if he hadn't fought all of them, Bu Eun-seol doubted any of the others had reached Baekri Mu-jo's level.
[So-yo.]
He used Thousand-Li Voice Transmission to reach her.
[You must have heard through the Death Soul Squad—until further orders, you are not to approach me.]
So-yo's voice was tinged with frustration and worry.
[What in the world are you thinking?]
He hadn't told any of his subordinates about leaking the investigation to Baekri Mu-jo.
It was far too dangerous a plan.
Even So-yo, who was practically glued to his side, had no idea what he was scheming.
[I have a plan.]
His tone brooked no argument.
[Leave my vicinity immediately.]
[...Understood.]
Though reluctant, she obeyed without another word. As Seon-u Jin, he was part of the Martial Alliance's high command.
In that identity, he could always rely on the Alliance's tight security.
"Forgive me."
As So-yo departed, Bu Eun-seol gazed at the distant sky.
"For deceiving even you."
Officially, he had refused the Star Guard Corps' protection—standard for high-ranking Alliance members.
If guards followed him everywhere?
Other intelligence factions could easily track his movements.
This wasn't unusual.
Many leaders of the Alliance's intelligence branches rejected the Star Guard Corps' escort for the same reason.
'All conditions are perfect.'
He had leaked the investigation into Baekri Mu-jo and created the perfect opportunity for an ambush.
If Baekri Mu-jo had something to hide? He wouldn't let this chance slip.
'From now on, I'll identify the culprit among the Seven Great Leaders, investigating them one by one.'
Starting with Baekri Mu-jo, Bu Eun-seol intended to investigate and deal with the Seven Great Leaders in turn.
Clack. Clack.
Bu Eun-seol rode a carriage toward Henan.
As Seon-u Jin, he used carriages provided by the Alliance's branches scattered throughout Chengdu.
The Secret Intelligence Bureau Chief's authority in the Martial World surpassed even that of the Seven Great Leaders.
If he wished, he could mobilize every Alliance branch under his command.
Within the Alliance itself, however, he held no special power—which was why he had negotiated with the Martial Venerable to obtain the Clear-Heart Command Token.
Thud.
But as the carriage rolled on, an unsettling sensation prickled at Bu Eun-seol's mind.
The kind he only felt when his life was in danger—when overwhelming masters appeared before him.
"Halt the carriage."
He stepped out immediately and dismissed the coachman.
Life was precious, regardless of faction.
Goooooo—
A sound like compressed air echoed from somewhere.
'The bait's been taken.'
A faint smile touched Bu Eun-seol's lips.
For someone to track him down so precisely in this empty plain—
—meant his movements had been monitored, his ambush timed perfectly.
'They chose a region with no Alliance branches.'
He carried a signal flare that could summon every nearby Alliance troop at once.
If he wished, he could call for reinforcements immediately.
Yet the attacker had deliberately struck hundreds of li away from any branch, fully aware of this fact.
Goooooo—
A piercing sound split the air as a white shadow materialized before him.
'That person—'
Bu Eun-seol's vision swam with dizziness at the utterly unexpected arrival.
'The Supreme Emperor?'
To his shock, the figure standing before him was none other than the Supreme Emperor of the Infinite Realm.