Chapter 736
'Yeon-wol... that man's memories.'
The memories he was witnessing now—
They were not Bu Eun-seol's own.
He realized that these were Yeon-wol's memories, that this place was Yeon-wol's mindscape.
'Was this also present when the Saha Manor collapsed?'
If so, then despite Yeon-wol's youthful appearance, he must actually be quite old...
And the probability was high that Neither-Human-Nor-Beast had been involved in—
The deaths of his father and mother.
Mumble, mumble, mumble...
Just then, the eerie voices of the ritualists chanting incantations around him grew deafeningly loud, tearing at his eardrums, and—
Whoosh!
The flames spreading around his mother's body, bound to the pillar, grew even more intense.
Kwaaaa!
Finally, those flames surged toward the sky as if to dye the entire world crimson—
And began to bathe everything in an indescribably beautiful radiance.
—Waaah!
Then, from somewhere, the vigorous cry of a newborn baby echoed.
Bu Eun-seol instinctively knew it came from the opposite side of where the incantations were being recited—
From another group gathered elsewhere.
As the soaring flames gradually died down, his mother's face, which had been engulfed in fire, began to become visible.
Whooosh!
But suddenly, the sight of his mother and the landscape of Saha Manor that Bu Eun-seol was witnessing—
Began to burn away like sheets of paper.
Perhaps because Yeon-wol's life was fading—
His mindscape, woven from memories, was collapsing.
'No!'
There was no telling when these memories might return.
Moreover, if these were Yeon-wol's memories—
From this angle, he would be able to see his mother's face clearly once the flames subsided.
'Just once...!'
Unconsciously, Bu Eun-seol poured every ounce of his qi into trying to halt the flames that were erasing the scene.
'It's working!'
As he desperately channeled his energy, the raging flames began to slowly weaken.
'Just a little more...'
He didn't know why, but he could feel it—
That he possessed the ability to reconstruct this mindscape.
Shuuu...
Then, the flames flickered out—
And his mother's figure, along with the surrounding scenery, began to reappear.
'Ugh...!'
As the landscape gradually restored itself, Bu Eun-seol writhed in agony.
Forcing the reconstruction of a dying man's mindscape—
Sent searing pain through his body as if he were being torn apart, his skull on the verge of splitting open.
'Please...'
Even as his spirit was shredded and his flesh teetered on collapse—
Bu Eun-seol continued pouring out his energy, staring fixedly at the face emerging from the flames.
And then, at last—
The face he had longed so desperately to see began to appear.
'...Huh?'
Bu Eun-seol let out a scream.
The face visible within the flames—
Wasn't it the spitting image of Neither-Human-Nor-Beast's shrine maiden, Man-wol?
'How...?'
How could his mother's face resemble hers? Was he hallucinating?
'It's similar.'
Upon closer inspection, their features weren't identical. But that could be due to differences in age and aura.
If his mother had been just a little younger... he might have mistaken them for twins.
Tzzzt—
But then, an indescribable pain surged through him.
Was it because he had poured all his energy into sustaining the mindscape?
Or was it the price of forcibly peering into the memories of Yeon-wol, who had already drawn his last breath?
Suddenly, his mind felt like it was burning, his organs melting away.
'Ugh...!'
Bu Eun-seol let out a pained groan.
It was agony beyond what even the most resilient person could endure.
Crack.
At that moment, the scenery of Saha Manor before his eyes split apart—
Whooosh!
And like sheets of paper set aflame, everything began to burn once more.
Then, the entire landscape slowly faded away—
Even his mother's figure, swallowed by the roaring flames.
Pfft!
Ejected from the collapsing mindscape, Bu Eun-seol coughed up a mouthful of blood.
"...Mother."
Kneeling, forgetting even the pain, he murmured softly.
If his suspicions were correct—
The Demonic Cult had undoubtedly used some grotesque Esoteric Ritual Arts to manipulate his mother.
"Or... was my own memory interfering?"
She was the face he had yearned to see so desperately.
He had thought that just one glimpse would be enough to fulfill his wish.
But for his mother's face to bear such a striking resemblance to Man-wol...
Accounting for the difference in age and aura, they could almost be sisters.
Could it be that what he had seen was not just Yeon-wol's mindscape, but his own memories intruding?
Even so, why would his mother's features resemble Man-wol's?
'Man-wol... Could she be connected to my mother?'
Tzzzt—
But right now, none of that mattered.
The pain he had endured in the mindscape was now vividly manifesting in reality.
It felt as though his mind was burning, and all his internal organs were melting away.
The heavens and earth spun dizzyingly, and boiling blood surged violently within his chest.
With a wet pfft, another mouthful of blood—a crimson arrow—spurted out.
'Something's gone wrong.'
There wasn't an ounce of strength left in his body.
The Internal Energy remaining within him barely amounted to a decade's worth.
His body felt heavy, like a waterlogged cotton ball, as if he had regressed to a time before he had ever learned martial arts.
Crk.
A bone-cracking sound resonated from Bu Eun-seol's face.
Once his Internal Energy level had dropped below thirty years, the Face-Changing Bone-Shifting Art had shattered.
Grrn—
He tried desperately to summon his Internal Power, but the remnants of energy inside him were pitifully weak—so feeble that he couldn't even circulate his qi.
Shuuu...
And when even the Two Spirit Energies, buried deepest within him, finally vanished—
Only then could Bu Eun-seol faintly grasp the situation.
'It's because I forcibly maintained the mindscape of someone on the verge of death.'
The price for forcibly sustaining the mindscape of a dying person was brutal.
By using every last ounce of energy in his body—
To prop up Yeon-wol's collapsing mindscape—
Bu Eun-seol's physique and Spirit and Mind, which had withstood countless blows without faltering, had now completely shattered.
He had suffered irreversible, fatal internal injuries.
'Even the Soul-Stabilizing Elixir isn't working.'
He had taken a pill from his pocket and swallowed it, yet his blocked energy pathways remained completely sealed.
'This isn't an ordinary internal injury.'
In his desperate attempt to sustain the collapsing mindscape, he had unleashed every ounce of his strength at once—
But then Yeon-wol had died.
All that force had been abruptly cut off... and ultimately rebounded onto his own body.
In simpler terms, it was as if the Harmonization he had unleashed at full power had poured back into himself.
"It was inevitable."
To witness the memories of the dying was to defy the Natural Order.
It was only natural that the backlash would seal all the energy within his body. That he hadn't lost his life was already a stroke of luck.
"This is bad."
Bu Eun-seol bit his lip as he gazed at the distant sky.
"Should I go to Langya Pavilion?"
If he sought out the Pavilion Lord, Ak Mu-ryeong—a man versed in the martial arts of all sects under heaven—
Wouldn't he be able to diagnose the cause of this energy blockage and immediately treat his injuries?
"No... I can't."
After a moment of contemplation, Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
Unlike in the past, Langya Pavilion was now a major faction on par with the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
There was a chance that spies from external forces like the Three Realms—
Or even infiltrators sent by factions hostile to Bu Eun-seol among the Demonic Path Ten Gates—had slipped inside.
And what if his injuries were so severe that even Ak Mu-ryeong couldn't treat them?
Forget failing to heal his body—
The fact that he had suffered irreparable damage would spread through various intelligence networks.
The factions lurking in the shadows would never let such an opportunity slip by.
'First, I need to move discreetly to the safe house.'
To make matters worse, the Death Soul Squad and the Peak Squad were currently reorganizing their intelligence systems to integrate with the Martial Soul Society.
Meaning, at this very moment, Bu Eun-seol's information network was at high risk of having its internal situation detected by external intelligence groups.
In other words—
He couldn't even tell So-yo about his critical condition.
Crunch, crunch.
But then—
From the opposite direction, a figure wearing a large bamboo hat slowly approached.
Clad in tattered monk's robes, with not just his face—
But every exposed part of his skin wrapped tightly in blood-and-pus-stained bandages.
His appearance was so obscured that it was impossible to guess even his age, let alone his features.
'He's no ordinary man.'
With a single glance, Bu Eun-seol could tell the monk walking toward him was anything but ordinary.
Those utterly still eyes—
Weren't they maintaining a state of perfect Stillness, something only seen in grandmasters who commanded the world?
If this monk was an enemy—
Then today would mark the end of Bu Eun-seol's short life.
"Hah."
The monk looked at Bu Eun-seol, let out a sigh, and spoke.
"Your body is in dire condition. You've suffered severe internal injuries."
By heaven's grace, the monk was not an enemy.
In fact, with just one glance—
He had instantly recognized Bu Eun-seol's fatal injuries, possessing some mysterious ability to do so.
"Your energy has reversed and clogged your pathways. A pity—you'll become a cripple."
One shock after another.
Not only had the monk discerned Bu Eun-seol's injuries—
He had also grasped the very process by which they had occurred.
"Venerable Monk."
Realizing that the monk before him was an Unusual Adept—a hidden dragon whose true identity remained concealed—Bu Eun-seol asked respectfully:
"If you know the cause of my affliction, shouldn't you also tell me how to survive it?"
"You wish to live?"
Pus oozed from the bandaged monk's eyes, yet within his pupils lingered a mysterious light.
"You sound like an old man at dusk, with no lingering attachment to life."
"Because there's still something I must do."
"Something you must do. Is that reason enough to keep living?"
"It's not a reason to keep living. It's the reason I've survived this long."
At Bu Eun-seol's answer, the monk gazed at the distant sky and nodded slowly.
"If there's something you must do, then you must do it."
With a deep sigh, the monk stepped toward Bu Eun-seol.
Then, in a voice so low it was almost a murmur, he spoke.
"The human body was modeled after the universe, where countless stars drift."
"..."
"And in this world, there exists a space modeled after that star-filled universe."
The monk continued as he walked forward.
"In such a space, the energy of the cosmos resides... It should be able to unblock the stagnant energy within your body."
'A space modeled after a universe of countless stars.'
For a moment, Bu Eun-seol's pupils trembled like rippling water.
Because he immediately realized the place the monk was referring to.
The Martial Venerable's Treasury.
Not long ago, inside the Martial Venerable's Treasury, hadn't there been a stone chamber that seemed to have transplanted the starry cosmos itself?
'Just who is this person?'
How could an ordinary monk know about the Martial Venerable's Treasury?
Could there possibly be another space elsewhere that had similarly recreated the universe?
If Bu Eun-seol's assumption was correct—
Then the hidden space within the Martial Venerable's Treasury was precisely a place imbued with the power of the cosmos.
And with that power, he could unblock his qi vessels and restore his body to its original state.
"Amitabha."
Meanwhile, the monk chanted the Buddha's name as he brushed past Bu Eun-seol.
Sssk—
The bandages on his face slowly began to slip away.
But the monk merely continued walking, his back already turned to Bu Eun-seol.
"My thanks—"
Bu Eun-seol, who had bowed in gratitude, suddenly stiffened.
When he turned around, the monk, who had been walking away at a leisurely pace, had already vanished without a trace.
'The range of my sensory perception has diminished.'
Though his body was far from normal, his blood still seething endlessly, the heightened senses of the Way of the Beast remained embedded within him.
But since he could no longer project the shockwaves of his internal energy far, the Domain of Heightened Senses had narrowed to an extreme degree.
'No... Even if my body were intact, I doubt I could have detected him.'
The monk, who had turned his back and walked away, had been no more than thirty feet from Bu Eun-seol.
Even if the full range of the Way of the Beast had been restored—
The monk would have still vanished silently, employing a mysterious power that transcended even those heightened senses.
"It's almost as if he left this for me to use."
Where the monk had stood, only a blood- and pus-stained bandage and a bamboo hat remained.
Swish.
Without hesitation, Bu Eun-seol picked up the bandage, wrapped it around his face, and donned the hat.
If he concealed his features with a bandage smeared in pus and blood—
No matter how remarkable the observer—
They would never recognize him as Bu Eun-seol.
'I'll hide my identity like this and head to the Martial Venerable's Treasury.'
Since entering the murim, Bu Eun-seol had always moved covertly, relying on intelligence networks to conceal his tracks.
But this time, without the aid of any such organization—
He would disguise himself as a sickly third-rate martial artist and travel alone.
The monk, who had secretly watched Bu Eun-seol stagger toward Chengdu, slowly shook his head.
"There was no other way."
When he lifted his gaze—
A grotesque face was revealed, his skin like tree bark, clots of blood congealing around his lips.
The one who had told Bu Eun-seol the method of treatment was none other than Wooden Buddha.
"That boy must not die now. No matter what."
Drip, drip.
From his mouth, black clots of blood the size of pebbles spilled out in a steady stream.
"Please... forgive this humble monk."
Wooden Buddha bowed his head, palms pressed together as he repeated the plea to the heavens.
Then, as he turned—
A space encircled by a radiant aura unfolded before him.
Inside, the scenery of a mystical forest, unknown to the world, stretched out.
Step... step...
Wooden Buddha slowly walked forward, vanishing into the shimmering light.
"From this moment on, I will enter closed-door cultivation. Ensure my movements are properly accounted for."
Upon arriving in Chengdu, Bu Eun-seol issued this command through So-yo.
"And have all intelligence operatives return to their bases and continue consolidating the information network."
Then, he added one more instruction.
"Also, rebuild the Seo An Funeral Home and hire a young undertaker and servants to assist."
Old Man Seo An was an exceedingly upright man.
Even if offered a fortune, he would refuse it, and if forced upon him, it would only make him a target for evildoers.
Thus, Bu Eun-seol merely arranged for the funeral home to be repaired—
And ensured Seo An could live comfortably—
By hiring a young undertaker and servants to handle miscellaneous tasks.
'Even if these instructions were leaked to external factions, they would pose no danger.'
Even if this information were to leak to hostile factions.
They would merely assume I had gone into closed-door cultivation and would only attempt to locate the site.
They would never uncover the true identity of the blood-stained, bandaged man wandering the Martial World—a sickly, third-rate martial artist.
'I'll have to take a carriage to Henan Province.'
His internal energy reserves had dwindled to barely ten years' worth. Moreover, the severe internal injuries he had sustained left his body utterly devoid of strength.
In his current state, employing Lightness Skill was nothing more than a pipe dream.
Upon arriving in Chengdu, Bu Eun-seol immediately headed to the relay station.
"Cough, cough."
But the moment he stepped inside, the coachmen's gazes turned disdainful.
With blood-soaked bandages wrapped around his face and severe internal injuries weighing him down,
he naturally appeared as nothing more than a sickly, third-rate martial artist.
"Hmph."
The coachmen, taking in his disheveled appearance and the bloodied bandages tightly wound around his face,
instinctively sensed he wouldn't be a lucrative fare. Some shifted away, avoiding his gaze entirely, while others simply stood and left.
'Hmm.'
Unfazed, Bu Eun-seol carefully surveyed the interior of the relay station.
Then his eyes settled on an elderly coachman sitting in the corner.
The man's hands were calloused, his posture hunched. His carriage was the oldest and most worn-out of the lot.
Yet, as if he had stumbled upon treasure, Bu Eun-seol approached the old coachman and spoke.
"I'll pay you generously. Lend me your carriage."
"I can take you, but..."
The old coachman sighed, gesturing toward a long procession heading out of Chengdu.
"If we leave now, we'll have no choice but to follow that merchant convoy."
He pointed to a large group of small-scale merchant caravans currently making their way out of the city.
They weren't a single, wealthy merchant group but rather a gathering of smaller, less affluent ones.
Since these modest caravans couldn't afford to hire formidable martial artists,
they traveled in clusters when passing through regions beyond the influence of the Orthodox and Unorthodox Paths—or the Green Forest outlaws.
Numbers were as good as troops, after all.
Even a small caravan could deter bandit attacks if they moved together.
'This works out perfectly.'
No one would ever imagine the Martial Soul Lord of the realm traveling alongside a merchant convoy.
Bu Eun-seol nodded readily.
"We'll go with the convoy."
"You seem trained in martial arts. Why not request to join them instead?"
Noticing the dark, sword-like Ink Soul Sword at Bu Eun-seol's side, the coachman spoke cautiously.
"You'd get paid and travel comfortably."
Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly.
He liked that the old man was not only honest but also considerate of his well-being.
"Then our deal is settled."
He pulled out a purse containing twenty silver taels and handed it over in full.
"This is too much, sir."
"The journey to Henan will take at least half a month. You deserve proper payment."
Bu Eun-seol gave a wry smile.
"And I'm sure your skills are the best."
With a single glance, he had discerned that this old man
was not only the most skilled coachman at the station but also meticulously maintained his carriage.
"Cough. Cough."
As soon as he finished speaking, another violent coughing fit seized him.
The internal injuries he had sustained were severe—
even speaking too much was exhausting.
"Please board quickly, martial artist."
Realizing Bu Eun-seol's poor condition, the old coachman fetched a warm blanket from the carriage so he could rest comfortably.
Just as Bu Eun-seol was about to climb in—
"I need a carriage for a long journey."
A clear, somewhat chilly voice rang out as a woman dressed in white robes entered the relay station.
Though she wore a veil, her eyes were sharp, and a pair of swords hung at her back.
'A merchant's daughter.'
The scabbards of her twin swords gleamed with dazzling silver,
and their hilts were studded with large gemstones.
Anyone else might mistake her for a martial artist, but Bu Eun-seol instantly recognized her as the scion of a wealthy merchant family.
'A true martial artist would never wear such gaudy accessories.'
Her veil was woven from Heavenly Silkworm Silk,
and she wore expensive jewelry—gem-studded earrings and rings.
While women generally enjoyed adornments, female martial artists were different.
They never wore accessories that could hinder their movements in combat.
But the children of wealthy merchant families, even if they trained in martial arts, always flaunted their riches like this.
"I'll serve you, my lady."
A coachman stepped forward, but the woman shook her head.
"No."
Then she pointed at the carriage Bu Eun-seol was about to board.
"That one."
"Young lady, this carriage has already been hired by this martial artist."
When the old coachman gestured to Bu Eun-seol, the woman frowned and opened her mouth to argue.
But then she noticed the bloodied bandages covering his face and sighed.
She pulled out a purse from her sleeve and tossed it to Bu Eun-seol.
"This should be enough to hire another carriage."
The purse contained about eighty silver taels.
She spoke magnanimously.
"Use the extra for medicine."
Sixty taels just for giving up a carriage?
No martial artist, no matter how indifferent to money, could refuse such an offer.
Whoosh.
Yet Bu Eun-seol didn't even open the purse before tossing it back to her.
"I decline."