Chapter 814
"The Fire Rain Sword Sect."
As if the entire world lay beneath its feet.
Bu Eun-seol's gaze wandered aimlessly through the empty air as he took in the majestic grandeur of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
'Then... that man was not purely a figure of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.'
Though the sect was known to have exceptional masters, none should have reached the Sage Among Poisons level of mastery in the Poison Technique.
'And if that's not the case either...'
Limitless Power.
If it was that force—one that transcended the principles of martial arts—then perhaps one wouldn't need to refine the Poison Technique at all.
It might even be possible to wield poison arts equal to those of the Sage Among Poisons.
'In that case...'
Even if the Fire Rain Sword Sect had countless hidden masters, there was only one person who could unleash Limitless Power at such an extreme level.
At last, Bu Eun-seol realized the true identity of that boy.
"Wi Ji-mua."
Someone who could manipulate a shell-like physical body while wielding power close to Limitless Power.
That could only be the Profound Demon, Wi Ji-mua—the sect leader of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
There was no other possibility.
'No... this is absurd.'
If the Profound Demon Wi Ji-mua was the leader of Neither-Human-Nor-Beast, then nothing could be more chilling and outrageous.
'I'll confirm it.'
Without hesitation, Bu Eun-seol strode straight toward the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
The two guards stationed at the great gate stiffened the moment they saw his face.
But when their eyes met, they bowed respectfully.
"What brings you to our sect?"
"I've come to see the sect leader."
The guards were visibly stunned.
Though unknown to the wider Murim, Bu Eun-seol had once severed the financial lifeline controlled by Wi Ji-hye-sang.
The reason no conflict had erupted was that Wi Ji-hye-sang's spy inside the Death Shadow War Unit had been discovered—and, more importantly, the Chief Doctrine Commander had mediated the matter, allowing it to pass quietly.
But from the Fire Rain Sword Sect's perspective, they had every reason to despise Bu Eun-seol.
And yet, here he was, arriving unannounced—not only that, but demanding to see their sect leader, who had remained as elusive as a hidden dragon, secluded deep within the sect?
"Please wait a moment."
The guard on the left hurried inside, likely to report his arrival to the Guard Unit captain.
After a long wait, a middle-aged man who appeared to be the Guard Unit captain emerged from the gate and bowed.
"I am Jeong Uk, leader of the Pure Heart Hall."
As the Heir of the Demon Hall, Bu Eun-seol held an extremely high status.
Thus, instead of the Guard Unit captain, it was Jeong Uk—responsible for receiving guests—who had come to greet him.
"It's an honor to meet you."
Jeong Uk's greeting was somewhat dry, his tone indifferent.
"Follow me. The sect leader is expecting you."
The words were unexpected.
Bu Eun-seol had assumed the sect would do everything to avoid meeting him.
Yet, astonishingly, the Profound Demon, who had remained in seclusion all this time, had agreed to the meeting.
Thud. Thud.
The Fire Rain Sword Sect was the foremost among demonic sects, boasting a staggering ten thousand disciples—equivalent to combining five or six average Murim factions.
Thus, when distinguished guests of the highest status visited, they were typically escorted by carriage within the sect grounds.
Even if that had been the case during his previous visit, Bu Eun-seol now held a rank that unquestionably warranted such treatment.
Yet Jeong Uk did not summon a carriage, instead leading him on foot at a leisurely pace.
'Naturally, they wouldn't offer me courtesy.'
But Bu Eun-seol had never been one to expect—or even desire—such treatment.
From the Fire Rain Sword Sect's perspective, he was someone they would gladly tear apart.
The fact that he had walked right into their territory should have been reason enough to mobilize every last troop against him.
If anything, he should be grateful that Wi Ji-mua had even permitted his visit.
"Lord."
A young attendant stood waiting further inside.
"From here, this child will guide you."
The attendant was likely a disciple serving Wi Ji-mua directly.
Wi Ji-mua had completely withdrawn from the sect's affairs, effectively living in seclusion.
Thus, no one could enter his dwelling without being led by someone who resided there.
"Very well."
As the young attendant took the lead, Bu Eun-seol followed.
Along the way, high-ranking members and masters of the Fire Rain Sword Sect glared at him with murderous intent or whispered among themselves.
But Bu Eun-seol paid them no mind, walking forward with detached calm.
'I wonder how the sect leader will react.'
How could the leader of the foremost demonic sect, the Fire Rain Sword Sect, have become Neither-Human-Nor-Beast?
Did that mean the sect itself was a den for Neither-Human-Nor-Beast?
Or did Wi Ji-mua have another identity altogether?
'At the very least, it's safe to assume he's currently in cooperation with Neither-Human-Nor-Beast.'
"Please ascend this way."
The attendant pointed toward a lofty hermitage.
It was a small retreat nestled in the back mountain of the Fire Rain Sword Sect, likely built for internal energy refinement or meditation.
"The sect leader is there?"
In the past, Wi Ji-mua had been deeply fond of tea, even constructing a small house solely for tea ceremonies.
"But to suddenly change his dwelling to this desolate hermitage... Could he truly be refining his Internal Power again?"
"That is correct."
The attendant bowed respectfully.
"Very well."
With that, he turned and left.
Bu Eun-seol gazed up at the hermitage for a moment.
After a long hesitation, he finally took a step forward.
Thud. Thud.
But with each step he took, a strange thought erupted in his mind.
What if the figure huddled inside that hermitage isn't Wi Ji-mua at all? What if it's someone entirely different?
An absurd notion—that the Profound Demon had vanished long ago—flashed through his thoughts.
It was an outlandish idea, but one he couldn't shake.
Because he simply couldn't accept that the boy leading Neither-Human-Nor-Beast and Wi Ji-mua were the same person.
This was his desperate attempt to reconcile reality.
"Come in."
As Bu Eun-seol stood before the hermitage, a low voice called from within.
Creak.
Pushing open the aged door, he stepped inside.
Inside, a man sat with his shoulders bared, carving wood with a small knife.
His arms were bronzed with muscle, his long hair tied up haphazardly.
On a small table beside him, several glass bottles were placed—likely for drinking while he carved.
"Long time no see."
The man clapped his hands clean and turned—and Bu Eun-seol's eyes widened.
From the back, he had assumed this wasn't Wi Ji-mua at all, but rather a martial artist from the Fire Rain Sword Sect staying here.
Because the aura emanating from him was utterly unfamiliar.
But it was Wi Ji-mua.
Has he really changed this much?
Bu Eun-seol could distinguish people not just by their faces, but by the very shape of their bodies.
Wi Ji-mua had been the Immortal Wind Daoist—slender in frame, with pale, almost jade-like skin.
But now? His skin was sun-bronzed, his gaze feral, like a beast's. He looked like a middle-aged man in his prime.
Moreover, though he was already past seventy, his profound Internal Power had preserved the refined appearance of a scholar.
Yet now, he bore the visage of a swordsman drenched in blood and survival.
The transformation was so drastic that, from a distance, Bu Eun-seol wouldn't have recognized him at all.
He's cultivating a new martial art.
Bu Eun-seol could sense it.
After reaching the Martial Extreme Realm, Wi Ji-mua had ceased training his body physically, relying solely on meditation to perfect his Sword Dao.
But now, it seemed he had returned to physical training—carving his body under the scorching sun, forging a new path in Sword Studies.
And as a result, he had gained the eyes of a beast and skin like burnished bronze.
Magnificent.
Wi Ji-mua's honed physique was more beautiful than a polished gem, harder than a treasured sword.
Like a masterpiece crafted by a god's full devotion.
And it was proof—proof that Wi Ji-mua was stepping beyond the boundaries of the Martial Extreme Realm.
No, it's certain.
Bu Eun-seol could feel it.
He, too, was transcending the Martial Extreme Realm—in his own way.
"I've been discourteous."
Only then did Bu Eun-seol snap out of his daze, realizing he had been staring at Wi Ji-mua's body like a man entranced. He bowed deeply.
"Disciple Bu Eun-seol greets the Sect Leader."
"Not an easy feat."
Wi Ji-mua grinned.
"Even if human potential is limitless, there are still boundaries."
Then came the praise.
"How is it that the Lord's potential knows no end...?"
Wi Ji-mua had noticed—Bu Eun-seol had appreciated his achievement, staring at his body as if bewitched.
"You flatter me."
Despite Bu Eun-seol's humility, Wi Ji-mua nodded as if deeply impressed.
"Had I not witnessed the battles of Brother Ak and Hall Master Sado in the past, I might have gladly considered you my rival."
Ak Mu-ryeong and the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had clashed many times in their youth—likely the fights Wi Ji-mua was referring to.
"You've surpassed what those peerless Grandmasters achieved in their prime."
It was both reverence for the martial heights Ak Mu-ryeong and the Demonic Heavenly Emperor had reached—
And high praise for Bu Eun-seol's martial prowess, which transcended generations and schools.
"But what brings you here?"
Wi Ji-mua offered a smile devoid of malice.
"Things have been peaceful lately—no one's dared to provoke our sect. Quite uneventful, really."
Though his words carried thorns, this jest was not a rebuke.
Rather, it was a gesture of closeness—acknowledging Bu Eun-seol's attack on the Fire Rain Sword Sect without resentment.
"My apologies."
"Apologies? Any warrior of the Demonic Path would shatter a blade that threatened them."
Wi Ji-mua waved a hand dismissively.
Bu Eun-seol's eyes widened.
Such magnanimity—
It was a breadth of spirit rarely seen, even in ascetic monks or lifelong Daoist cultivators.
'Profound Demon.'
Bu Eun-seol let out a deep, inward sigh.
Even after ascending to the pinnacle of the Demonic Martial World,
he was known not to walk the path of tyranny, instead wielding martial arts as profoundly mystical as those of a Taoist from the Righteous Faction.
And the reason this was possible—
was because it was built upon an unfathomable depth of mind and a breadth of spirit.
"Perfect timing. I was just feeling a bit lonely."
He picked up a glass bottle placed on the table.
"I was just worrying about how to find a drinking companion in this remote hermitage, you see."
Then, he tossed the bottle to Bu Eun-seol.
Thud.
As Bu Eun-seol caught it, Wi Ji-mua bared his white teeth in a grin.
"It's not fine liquor, but it's decent enough to drink."
"Did you brew this yourself?"
"Well, somehow, it ended up that way."
It was astonishing.
Most figures who enjoyed tea tended to avoid alcohol.
Wi Ji-mua, who once grew and roasted his own tea leaves to suit his refined palate—
was now brewing his own liquor?
"I'll enjoy it."
Bu Eun-seol took a sip from the bottle.
The liquor was milder than expected, clean and smooth, almost like ceremonial wine.
"Well? How is it?"
Bu Eun-seol nearly let out a laugh.
In the past, Wi Ji-mua had stubbornly insisted he try his homemade tea—
then demanded a detailed review, taking the feedback with utmost seriousness.
And now, wasn't that same expectant gaze exactly unchanged?
"Smooth and gentle. There's even a subtle, refreshing note, almost as if tea were blended in."
"Hohoho. So you've seen through it after all."
"You actually mixed tea into it?"
Wi Ji-mua downed the liquor in one go before replying.
"Consider it a method I devised to enjoy fine liquor and tea simultaneously."
It was absurd, yet the smile faded from Bu Eun-seol's lips.
Wi Ji-mua was a peerless master who had looked down on the Murim all his life, standing at the Martial Extreme Realm.
In other words, he was akin to an artisan who revered tradition and adhered to a single craft for years.
And yet, here he was, casually mixing liquor and tea without hesitation?
If so, then his swordsmanship now—
must have undoubtedly transcended the limits of known techniques, reaching a realm beyond conventional martial arts.
"Here."
Wi Ji-mua extended the bottle back to Bu Eun-seol.
Gulp, gulp.
He drank deeply, like a man quenching thirst.
In contrast, Bu Eun-seol took only a small sip.
Just from their drinking styles—
it was clear their personalities were polar opposites.
Perhaps the same applied to their martial arts.
"But what brings you here so suddenly?"
Though his complexion and physique had completely changed, Wi Ji-mua had become even more amiable than before.
Bu Eun-seol exhaled quietly.
It was hard to believe that this unassuming Wi Ji-mua—
the Profound Demon who had resumed wielding his sword for martial refinement—
was the same as the Neither-Human-Nor-Beast who experimented on and controlled human bodies.
'Was I mistaken?'
From speech to demeanor, Wi Ji-mua and the boy associated with Neither-Human-Nor-Beast shared no resemblance whatsoever.
"There's something I'd like to ask."
"Speak."
"Despite leading the foremost sect of the Demonic Path, have you ever felt unsatisfied for a long time?"
—Were you dissatisfied with the Fire Rain Sword Sect, leading you to ally with such forces?
It was an indirect way of implying that Bu Eun-seol knew—
Wi Ji-mua was the boy behind the Neither-Human-Nor-Beast experiments.
"Dissatisfied, you say..."
At Bu Eun-seol's peculiar question, Wi Ji-mua stroked his chin with a grave expression.
"You've only led a coalition so far. Never an independent, single sect. So perhaps you wouldn't understand."
He tilted the bottle again, taking another deep swig.
Thud.
Setting it down, he smiled.
"Leading a sect isn't something you can describe as satisfying or dissatisfying."
Wi Ji-mua's sharp eyes gleamed as he continued.
"Personal emotions or sentiments must be discarded. A sect leader must devote everything—
to ensuring the sect's prosperity."
He gazed at Bu Eun-seol with a cryptic smile.
"That is the fate of those who lead. Though, within the Demonic Path Ten Gates, there are two sect leaders—myself included—who became so obsessed with their own goals that they ruined their sects."
Amused by his own words, he let out a hearty laugh.
A sect leader consumed by personal ambition—
That referred to the Human Demon, Ak Mu-ryeong, who left all sect affairs to Dan Cheong while repeatedly entering closed-door cultivation.
And Wi Ji-mua himself, who had dumped all responsibilities onto Wi Hyeok-gun.
"But if a sect leader focuses solely on prosperity, doesn't that increase the likelihood of plummeting into ruin instead?"
"Looking back through the history of Murim, countless sects have risen, maintained their legacy, and eventually faded—such is the natural order of things."
Wi Ji-mua smiled faintly, his expression tinged with emptiness.
"In the end, a sect is merely a sect, and the cycle of prosperity and decline repeats itself. A sect leader must strive with all their might—the rest is left to heaven's will."
'Is he really admitting it this easily?'
Though his words were somewhat evasive,
Wi Ji-mua's statement only solidified Bu Eun-seol's suspicions.
Considering the carefree yet meticulous personality Wi Ji-mua had displayed until now,
this was an unusually perplexing move.
'Does he have absolute confidence? Or...'
Bu Eun-seol never overlooked even the smallest clue, and he had the means to expose Wi Ji-mua as the Neither-Human-Nor-Beast.
So why was Wi Ji-mua instead feeding his suspicions, almost as if confirming them?
—A sect of Murim is just a sect of Murim. It can change or disappear at any time.
Moreover, the implication of his words—
Didn't it mean that even the Fire Rain Sword Sect, hailed as the foremost among the demonic factions, was of no real consequence to him?
'Is he saying that even the greatest sect of the Demonic Path could be discarded without hesitation if it served his purpose?'
Bu Eun-seol was unsettled.
But he gave no outward sign, merely nodding.
"I see."
Then, with both hands clasped respectfully, he added,
"Thanks to you, my curiosity has been satisfied."
There was nothing more to ask Wi Ji-mua.
From now on, all he had to do was track his movements thoroughly and expose him as the Neither-Human-Nor-Beast.
"I appreciate you sparing me your time."
"Think nothing of it."
"Then I shall take my leave."
As Bu Eun-seol bowed politely,
"Martial Soul Lord."
Wi Ji-mua spoke in a low voice.
"The sects of Murim and their leaders... have long moved only for profit."
Bu Eun-seol nodded.
Just as he said, it had already been revealed that sect leaders of the Demonic Path Ten Gates—such as Gongya Geuk, Lord of the Hell Blood Citadel and the White Horse Monastery's Gang Yang-cheon—
were either deeply entangled with the Three Realms or maintained close contact with them.
"From the beginning, the Demonic Path has revered strength. Things like loyalty or ideology... were never to be expected in the first place."
Wi Ji-mua sighed.
"To gain power, to seize authority... resorting to all manner of schemes or colluding with other factions—such things are commonplace even in the Demon Hall."
Bu Eun-seol swallowed a dry smile and replied softly,
"I agree with your words, Sect Leader. But if every leader in Murim obsesses only over profit and power..."
He paused briefly before shaking his head lightly.
"...wouldn't that, in its own way, be a bitter thing to consider?"
"Is that so?"
"The wine was excellent."
Bu Eun-seol bowed once more.
"Then."
Creak.
As Bu Eun-seol left the hermitage, silence engulfed the interior.
Wi Ji-mua's expression as he watched the empty doorway was peculiar—
as if he were forcibly suppressing laughter, or perhaps restraining anger.
Knock knock.
Then, someone rapped on the hermitage door and spoke in a low voice.
"Are you there?"
The voice belonged to none other than Wi Ji-hye-sang, the young sect leader of the Fire Rain Sword Sect.
"Enter."
At Wi Ji-mua's calm reply, a man with jade-like features slowly stepped inside.
Though his face was exquisitely feminine, his eyes slanted sharply upward, and a sinister yellow glint flickered in his pupils.
His former appearance was nowhere to be seen—
Had Bu Eun-seol witnessed him now, he wouldn't have recognized him as Wi Ji-hye-sang.
"What brings you?"
Strange.
Why was Wi Ji-mua speaking to his own grandson with honorifics?
"I heard the Martial Soul Lord of the Demon Hall came and left."
Wi Ji-mua sighed deeply at those words, then spoke with utmost solemnity.
"Is there truly any need to cling to that Great Art any longer?"
His gaze burned with heat intense enough to melt steel, and his voice carried unshakable resolve.
"This sect is already strong enough as it is."
It was bizarre.
Why was he speaking to his own grandson with the deference one would show an elder?
"Even after seeing that Martial Soul Lord, you still say such things?"
Wi Ji-hye-sang sighed and shook his head.
"Life is short, and compensating for innate shortcomings is never easy. This sect still has a long way to go... It is a necessity."
A cold smile curled on Wi Ji-hye-sang's lips.
"And do not forget the past so easily. It has only been three hundred years since the Jeok Clan departed and the Wi Clan took over the Fire Rain Sword Sect."
Wi Ji-mua wore a pained expression instead of answering.
Wi Ji-hye-sang shook his head, then bowed.
"Then I shall take my leave."
"...Are you satisfied?"
At Wi Ji-mua's cryptic question,
"It is merely a process."
Wi Ji-hye-sang turned away, his voice low.
"Strength can break all boundaries... and merge two into one."
He tilted his head slightly, letting out a soft snort before smirking.
"And I believe I've reminded you many times not to use honorifics with me... Please be more mindful in the future."
With that final remark, Wi Ji-hye-sang turned and walked out.
"Even when we're alone."
Wi Ji-mua swallowed a bitter smile at those words.
"There isn't a single sect in this world where juniors speak casually to their elders."
Halt.
Wi Ji-hye-sang paused briefly at that.
But as if he hadn't heard, he soon continued outside at a leisurely pace.