Chapter 786
'That brat.'
Ak Mu-ryeong's eyes flashed sharply as he watched Bu Eun-seol walking away with a hunched back, his steps devoid of strength.
'What in the world is that energy embedded in his Brain Gate Acupoint?'
Even amidst the extreme battle, Ak Mu-ryeong had meticulously examined Bu Eun-seol's body using secret arts like the Heavenly Robe Mind Art.
And what he discovered was an overwhelmingly powerful energy sealed near Bu Eun-seol's Brain Gate Acupoint—one so formidable that even he couldn't undo it.
Not only that, but there was also a mysteriously blended force within his internal energy, something utterly incomprehensible.
Had Ak Mu-ryeong known that this was the Primordial Chaos Subtle Qi—the supreme secret art of the Nothingness Sect, which had risen to the head of Tibetan Esoteric Buddhism and the great lineage of heavenly internal energy—
He would have been stunned beyond belief.
"That brat... So he's not a fake, but truly a descendant of Baekri Mu-ha?"
If he were a fake, there would be no need to seal his memories with such terrifying power.
From the very beginning, all it would take was planting the suggestion—
That his memories had been sealed—alongside fragmented recollections.
People would easily believe that the reason no memories surfaced was because they had been locked away.
But inside Bu Eun-seol's mind—
An immense power, one even Ak Mu-ryeong dared not claim he could unravel, was tightly barricading his Brain Gate Acupoint.
As if truly intent on sealing away certain memories.
'Could it be Bu Jan-yang?'
A bizarre thought flickered through Ak Mu-ryeong's mind.
What if Baekri Mu-ha, in order to protect his true bloodline, had instead turned his real son into a shadow?
And Bu Jan-yang, having discerned that intention, deliberately declared Bu Eun-seol a fake...?
Such an absurd notion.
'Hmm...'
During his past clash with the Buddhist Venerable,
Ak Mu-ryeong had incidentally learned about the unique power possessed only by the bloodline of the Baekri Clan.
If he wanted to confirm whether Bu Eun-seol truly belonged to that lineage, all he had to do was summon him right now and verify it.
"Not my concern."
Ak Mu-ryeong gazed at the distant sky.
"No matter what anyone says, that brat is this Pavilion Lord's successor."
Bu Eun-seol's origins didn't matter.
All that mattered was that Ak Mu-ryeong had finally found a successor—
A true inheritor capable of receiving his legacy.
And Langya Pavilion had welcomed a heir who could complete the Martial Way they had so desperately pursued.
"At last."
Ak Mu-ryeong's eyes narrowed to slits as an energy capable of tearing apart the heavens radiated from his pupils.
"I can see your end."
"I still have a long way to go."
After leaving Langya Pavilion,
Bu Eun-seol had initially been too exhausted—and too ashamed—to even lift his head.
"Ten years."
Ak Mu-ryeong had told him to survive for ten years.
He interpreted those words to mean that he would need another decade of training just to stay alive.
And to Bu Eun-seol, that span of time felt unbearably long and distant.
"If even the True Demon's servants are strong enough to rival the Pavilion Lord..."
The Eight Heavenly Servants, despite being the lowest-ranking subordinates, were on par with the strongest martial artists of the current era.
Meaning there would always be opponents worth fighting with his full strength.
As a disciple of Langya Pavilion, he should have been thrilled by this.
Without strong adversaries, there could be no growth.
Without fierce battles, one could never reach unfathomable heights.
But after witnessing Ak Mu-ryeong's terrifying prowess, his confidence had somewhat diminished.
In truth, this was a grave misconception on Bu Eun-seol's part.
The reason his full-powered attacks had failed—
Was because he had been clashing, again and again, against an elder of his sect, the supreme master of Langya Pavilion—
One who had already discerned every facet of his martial heritage and the blended forces within him.
He had completely forgotten this fact.
And that very forgetfulness proved just how fiercely competitive Bu Eun-seol was.
Because, true to his identity as a Langya Pavilion disciple, he had even regarded Ak Mu-ryeong as a rival to be surpassed.
[So-yo, cover my tracks for a while.]
When Bu Eun-seol sent the Thousand-Li Voice Transmission, So-yo's voice carried a hint of worry.
[Where are you going?]
[I have some personal matters to attend to. I'll be back soon.]
[Be careful.]
So-yo replied energetically.
Ever since returning from Langya Pavilion, he had seemed oddly drained.
But if he wanted to step away from the complicated affairs of the Demon Hall and the Martial Alliance to handle personal business—
From her perspective, she would welcome it with open arms.
[Don't pretend you're fine. Don't try to solve everything alone.]
But Bu Eun-seol had already left the area in a single breath... So-yo's voice never reached his ears.
Whoosh—
After leaving Sword Tail Mountain, Bu Eun-seol unleashed his Movement Technique endlessly toward the north.
Running without rest, mindlessly pushing forward, he soon arrived at Jade Gate Pass.
"That guy. Wonder how he's doing."
Once he passed through Jade Gate Pass, the face of a young man with pure, bright eyes suddenly surfaced in his mind.
His first companion on his journey through the martial world—
A once-in-a-generation genius with extraordinary talent.
Heuk-pyo.
"He must be training hard."
Heuk-pyo wasn't just gifted—he was a hardworking genius who never skipped a single day of relentless training.
Even now, at this very moment—
He was undoubtedly pushing himself further, honing his skills without pause.
"..."
After a brief moment of deep contemplation—
Whoosh!
As if reaching a decision, Bu Eun-seol unleashed his Movement Technique in one swift motion.
After running for a long while, the horizon disappeared, replaced by an endless expanse of golden sand—the vast landscape of a desert.
He ran without stopping, endlessly forward.
Before he knew it, the sky had turned a deep blue.
As the night sky filled with cascading stars began to take over, a massive rocky mountain loomed in the distance, beyond which lay a patch of thriving vegetation.
There, a spring bubbled up, offering fresh water to drink.
And around it stood the remnants of a stone structure, its broken walls giving off an air of ancient mystery, as if it were a relic from a forgotten era.
Tap, tap, tap.
Then, between the ruins, the flickering glow of firelight caught his eye.
Someone had lit a bonfire and was resting there.
Under normal circumstances, Bu Eun-seol would never have disturbed another's respite.
But perhaps it was the exhaustion of wandering endlessly through the vast desert.
Or maybe his own spirit had grown too weary.
Without realizing it, he found himself walking toward the flickering flames.
There, hunched over the fire, sat a young man with a bent back.
His face was wrapped in cloth, obscuring his features, but the slump of his shoulders and the hollow, unfocused look in his eyes spoke of someone drowning in deep despair.
"Huh?"
Yet when the young man's gaze met Bu Eun-seol's, he let out a startled sound.
"What brings you here?"
"Black Leopard."
Bu Eun-seol blinked in surprise.
The hunched figure was none other than Heuk-pyo.
"I almost didn't recognize you."
It was an honest observation.
Not because Heuk-pyo's face was covered, but because his eyes—usually bright and lively—now looked as empty as a dead fish's.
"What happened?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Heuk-pyo bowed his head deeply.
"It's... shameful to say."
"Shameful?"
"I've been parading around with this grandiose epithet—'Wandering King'—but in truth, I'm nothing but a worthless husk."
"You're being too harsh on yourself."
Bu Eun-seol frowned, but Heuk-pyo shook his head.
"Not at all."
Then he glanced at the unorthodox weapon strapped to his shoulder.
"Not long ago, I happened to meet an eccentric master and obtained an extraordinary weapon."
Attached to his shoulder was a pauldron with an eerie sheen—a treasure that had elevated movement techniques to unprecedented heights.
The legendary Wing-Breaking Heaven Feather, once wielded by the Black Wing Blood Lord.
"The Wing-Breaking Heaven Feather."
"Indeed. You recognized it at a glance, Lord."
Heuk-pyo turned his gaze back to the bonfire, his voice weak.
"Yet even with such a treasure... I ended up running from a bunch of freaks with two pupils in their eyes."
Heuk-pyo had obtained the ancient relic—no, the Black Wing—and yet...
He had failed to eliminate the Overlapping Pupils People, forced to flee instead.
His confidence had shattered.
So he had set aside his wandering duties, drifting aimlessly through the desert alone.
"In the end, I was just a frog in a well."
The Overlapping Pupils People, monstrous beings forged from the forbidden Four Calamities Purgatory Scripture, had only appeared once in the history of Murim.
They were living weapons of terrifying might, once deployed against the legendary Baekri Clan.
The fact that Heuk-pyo had defeated that terrifying monster alone and survived—proved he had reached the pinnacle of martial prowess.
But Heuk-pyo, unaware of this, believed them to be mere Living Jiangshi—creatures of the Corpse Handling Sect.
And so, he was consumed by shame, berating himself for failing to defeat such foes despite bearing the grand title of Wandering King.
"Hmm."
Bu Eun-seol sighed and crouched beside him.
"Calling yourself a frog in a well is absurd."
"Huh?"
"By sheer luck, I've had the chance to learn—directly and indirectly—the martial arts of the greatest grandmasters in Murim, including the Pavilion Lord himself."
As he spoke, Bu Eun-seol's shoulders slumped even lower than Heuk-pyo's.
"And yet, I was told I'd need ten years of grueling training just to barely reach a level where I could survive in Murim."
Now, his eyes too had lost focus, dull as a dead fish's.
"That was the Pavilion Lord's own assessment."
"Ah... I see."
Heuk-pyo nodded in understanding.
"If the Human Demon Ak Mu-ryeong—the strongest of the Three Demons—said so, it must be true."
"Exactly."
"It seems you haven't made much progress either, Lord."
The more they spoke, the dimmer the light in their eyes grew.
"Come to think of it, your aura aren't anything special either."
"Nothing I do is, really."
Thud.
As if by unspoken agreement, they both lowered their heads at the same time.
Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo had trained relentlessly, never resting even a single day.
They had honed their martial prowess through life-and-death battles.
Yet now, after all that, they could only lament how overestimated their own strength had been.
"So that's why you came here."
"So that's why you were alone in this desert."
They spoke simultaneously, then returned to staring blankly at the bonfire.
By the next day, they still sat crouched before the long-extinguished fire.
Both had reached the Harmonized Golden Source realm, where even days without food posed no threat to their lives.
Mumble, mumble.
Even now, Heuk-pyo muttered martial incantations under his breath.
Unconsciously, he was still researching ways to wield the Black Wing more powerfully.
Scratch, scratch.
Bu Eun-seol, still crouched, traced strange diagrams into the ground.
"It's a new fist technique of the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon. A variation of the Formless Endless Style."
He was researching how to defend against the attacks of a master like Ak Mu-ryeong and counter them instantly.
Tap tap tap tap.
But then, the earth trembled.
With a sound like a herd of cattle passing by, dark shadows arrived one by one.
Turning his head, he saw troops clad in bizarre, face-concealing attire riding toward them on horseback.
Their numbers—three thousand strong.
Their eyes gleamed sharply, and an intense aura of martial energy radiated from their entire bodies.
"A horde of bandits."
"Seems like a horde of bandits."
Though they only concealed their faces while mounted, a closer look revealed they were far from mere bandits—their martial energy was overwhelmingly powerful.
But the two of them had been crouching in the desert for days, so engrossed in their own tasks that their minds were too hazy to even properly discern whether these were bandits or not.
"Whoa!"
The charging troops spotted the two figures crouching near a clear spring.
"We rest here."
They wore crimson robes, their entire bodies concealed except for their eyes.
The leader, dismounting, fixed his gaze on Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo, his eyes flashing with light.
Both of them had ordinary auras, and their eyes seemed slightly unfocused for some reason.
Their dust-covered, crouched forms even gave off an air of inadequacy.
"Scram."
The leader's voice was deep, thunderous, and carried an undeniable authority.
"This is where our faction must rest."
Yet, despite his command, the two only shook their heads blankly.
"Not bandits—a heretical sect."
"A heretical sect, indeed."
Then, they averted their gazes again, scribbling something on the ground while muttering under their breaths.
'Martial arts principles?'
The leader realized that their muttering contained the profound truths of Superior Martial Arts.
'Not mere fools.'
Recognizing that these two were martial artists of exceptional skill, the leader barked an order to his subordinates.
"Our tracks must not be exposed. Kill them immediately."
The battle began.
Two against three thousand.
Under normal circumstances, victory would have been unthinkable.
But Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo remained unfazed.
Bu Eun-seol had reached the Beyond-Limit Return to Origin realm—a terrifying state where, unless his opponent matched his martial prowess, no amount of numbers could harm him.
Meanwhile, Heuk-pyo, who had wandered the Death Line as a rogue, had seen his movement and evasion abilities more than double after obtaining the Black Wing.
Back-to-back, they leisurely dealt with the onslaught of troops.
—Huh?
But as the battle progressed, their expressions darkened.
They had assumed they could handle this group, whether bandits or a heretical sect, without issue.
Yet these masked figures were not only highly skilled but also wielded bizarre Great Arts that suppressed the power of their martial techniques and even slowed their movements.
—Has martial arts truly regressed?
—Has martial arts really regressed?
Sharing the same thought, Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo exchanged a glance, their eyes darkening endlessly.
They had ascended to the Ascendant Realm, continuously evolving—yet now, they had hit a limit.
Were they really struggling against nameless heretics or bandits whose lineage they didn't even know?
CRACK!
Finally, Bu Eun-seol unleashed the Formless Heavenly Flow Style, infused with Thunder Essence Divine Qi.
The enemies' techniques were too bizarre, and their strange rituals slowed his movements—without the Thunder Essence Divine Qi, his body felt as sluggish as if submerged in water.
SHWING!
At the same time, a torrent of energy erupted from Heuk-pyo's shoulders.
Unable to generate speed with ordinary movement techniques, he began channeling the Black Wing at full power.
SLASH! CRACK!
In an instant, the surrounding three hundred feet became a sea of blood.
Bu Eun-seol, gripping the Ink Soul Sword, leaped like a soaring bird, alternating between the Formless Heavenly Flow Style and the Seven Forms of the Fist Demon.
BOOM!
Each time, Heuk-pyo—now a single streak of black—whirled around him, unleashing razor-sharp energy blades with the Black Wing.
"What in the world...?"
The leader's voice trembled as he watched the battle unfold, disbelief flickering in his eyes.
These three thousand troops were a secret unit, never before revealed to the world.
In terms of combat power alone, they possessed a terrifying force equivalent to ten minor to mid-sized sects combined.
Yet now, these elite warriors were being mercilessly cut down—like nameless bandits—by two young martial artists.
"This is impossible..."
In truth, they were the secret strike force of one of the most powerful factions Beyond the Frontier.
Under the influence of their mysterious Great Art, their bodies were like Diamond Bodies, and their martial prowess allowed one to stand against a thousand.
Even if an entire mid-sized sect attacked, they should have been able to secure victory—yet they couldn't defeat two disheveled young men covered in dust?
And even after half a day had passed—
They fought on like tireless machines, relentless as if possessed.
How could such a dreamlike scenario be unfolding?
"Retreat!"
In the end, the leader gave the order to withdraw.
Even if they held out a little longer, the outcome would only be annihilation.
Even if they fought with their lives on the line, there was no way to defeat those two monsters.
Rumble.
The retreat was swift.
Of the three thousand troops, barely a thousand remained.
And even they had only barely escaped with their lives—few had all their limbs intact.
Rumble, rumble.
As they kicked up dust in their retreat, Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo finally halted their movements.
Despite their overwhelming victory, the expressions on their faces were deeply twisted.
"My Lord."
Heuk-pyo spoke to Bu Eun-seol with a weary face.
"I don't think I can go on any longer."
He had used every last ounce of his strength.
And yet, he hadn't been able to wipe out those three thousand troops?
"The same goes for me."
Bu Eun-seol, watching the enemy forces recede like an ebbing tide, let out a bitter sigh.
No matter how much the bizarre effects of the Great Art had dulled his body—
To fail in slaughtering a mere three thousand heretical sect members in half a day's battle?
This was the first time in his entire martial career that Bu Eun-seol had suffered such a terrible experience.
For a while, the two of them hung their heads, stewing in the bitterness of their hollow victory.
How much time had passed?
"Psychological shock can temporarily regress one's martial arts."
Suddenly, Bu Eun-seol took a deep breath and gazed at the distant sky.
"Despair and frustration may come. But you must use them as stepping stones to climb even higher."
These words were not just for Heuk-pyo—they were also a vow Bu Eun-seol made to himself.
"Wise words."
Heuk-pyo clenched his fists.
"I think I've grown too complacent. I should return to my roots and start refining my basics all over again."
At Heuk-pyo's words, Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly.
Looking back, when he first met Heuk-pyo and began teaching him, Bu Eun-seol had also learned much in return.
Teaching wasn't just about passing something on to another—
It was also an opportunity to refine oneself in the process.
"Will you head to the Central Plains now?"
After a brief moment of contemplation, Bu Eun-seol shook his head.
"Since we've already come Beyond the Frontier, I might as well visit a few Poison Sects."
"Poison Sects?"
"I've been searching for a way to eliminate the Three Corpse Worms."
All the Peak Realm Members had been poisoned with the lethal Three Corpse Worms, a Poison Parasite implanted by the Martial Venerable's secret machinations.
Before leaving the Martial Alliance, he absolutely had to find a way to neutralize those toxins.
"Three Corpse Worms..."
After a moment of deep thought, Heuk-pyo spoke.
"Among the Wanderer Corps I lead, there's someone extremely knowledgeable about poisons. He's also an expert on Poison Parasites."
"An expert on Poison Parasites."
"Indeed."
Heuk-pyo continued calmly.
"He said that if there's any place capable of detoxifying an extreme Poison Parasite like the Three Corpse Worms, it would be the Thousand Poisons Sect on Hainan."
"The Thousand Poisons Sect?"
Bu Eun-seol blinked.
The Thousand Poisons Sect was the first sect in the martial world to achieve the Poison Saint Body realm—
The grand lineage of Yunnan's Poison Sects, and the very root of the Black Tower.
But the Black Tower had become the Vanished Sect.
Naturally, the Thousand Poisons Sect's legacy had long been severed, its traces lost to time.
And now, suddenly, the Thousand Poisons Sect?
"They say the Thousand Poisons Sect has been rebuilt on a deserted island off Hainan."
Heuk-pyo spoke in a hushed tone.
"They discovered a Treasure Map claiming to have buried gold on Hainan's deserted island, and while searching for the treasure, they stumbled upon the rebuilt Thousand Poisons Sect."
Bu Eun-seol furrowed his brow.
He had already witnessed countless instances of Vanished Sects being rebuilt after vanishing because of the Three Realms.
"So, the Three Realms?"
"I don't know about that. But if you're looking to detoxify the Three Corpse Worms, it might be worth investigating."
"Understood."
Bu Eun-seol replied impassively.
"From now on, try not to travel alone. The martial world's landscape has completely changed."
Lately, Heuk-pyo had been wandering the desert alone, leaving his Ronin Corps behind.
But after this incident, he must have realized—
That traveling alone like this meant he could be ambushed by any faction at any time.
"I understand."
"Train well."
"Yes."
After exchanging farewells, the two men simultaneously leapt in opposite directions.
Unaware of the rumors that would soon spread in their wake—
—The Martial Soul Lord and the Wandering King single-handedly repelled the Blood Cult's invasion!
A shocking rumor suddenly swept through the martial world.
The Blood Cult had broken their pact with the Demon Hall and, in an attempt to establish another branch like the Blood Heretic Sect in the Central Plains—
Had secretly led their forces across the Jade Gate Pass to infiltrate the Central Plains.
And not just any forces—the Rakshasa Corps, composed entirely of Death Soul Men.
Death Soul Men.
The strongest martial artists created through the Blood Cult's supreme method—
Their bodies were like Diamond Bodies, and their martial prowess was said to equal a thousand ordinary fighters.
And their numbers? A staggering three thousand.
In short, the Blood Cult—
Having discerned the chaos in the Central Plains' martial world—had attempted to breach the Jade Gate Pass with a force equivalent to a major sect.
Yet somehow, the Martial Soul Lord and the Wandering King had known.
They had lain in wait at the Jade Gate Pass and, with just the two of them, repelled three thousand troops.
—Just what kind of intelligence network does the Martial Soul Lord possess?
The Blood Cult, boasting the most formidable military strength among the Beyond-the-Frontier factions, also possessed an extensive intelligence network.
Not a single intelligence organization in the Central Plains had detected the Rakshasa Corps' covert movement toward the Jade Gate Pass—
Yet those two had been waiting right on the path the Corps had taken?
—The Martial Soul Lord and the Wandering King's intelligence network and martial prowess have been severely underestimated until now.
Martial Soul Lord Bu Eun-seol, who had long refrained from public martial activities.
And Wandering King Heuk-pyo, who had roamed Beyond the Frontier, honing his extraordinary martial arts.
Contrary to what had been known—
The two commanded an intelligence network of unimaginable scale, and their martial prowess had already surpassed the Extreme Heaven Realm.
"With the Martial Soul Lord and Wandering King present, the Forces from Beyond the Frontier must abandon their ambitions toward the Central Plains."
When this rumor began shaking the Rivers and Lakes,
"—Huh?"
"—Eh?"
Bu Eun-seol, who had been heading toward Hainan,
and Heuk-pyo, who had returned to the Wandering Band, blinked simultaneously with their mouths agape.