Chapter 83
The Thousand Swords Society's gathering was being held in Ziyang, a short distance from Chengdu in Sichuan.
This area was not only home to Buddhist scenic sites like the State-Protecting Temple and the Perfect Enlightenment Cave but also boasted numerous historic attractions such as Taiji Ancient Town and the Crane Immortal Pavilion.
Because of this, it was a place where not only orthodox martial artists but also masters who walked the line between righteousness and unorthodoxy—along with many sightseers—gathered in droves.
Bustle, bustle.
As they entered Chengdu, countless crowds came into view.
Following Yu Hwa-ryeong's lead, Bu Eun-seol's gaze sharpened as he surveyed their surroundings.
'Similar, yet different.'
The place where Bu Eun-seol had spent the past year active in the martial world was near Dongting Lake in Hunan.
Like Ziyang, it was frequented by sightseers who came to admire the scenic landscapes.
But in reality, since it was a battleground where the forces of the orthodox, demonic, and unorthodox factions clashed on equal footing, there was always an undercurrent of bloodlust in the air.
Ziyang, however, was different.
It was lively and bustling, and it seemed there were more martial artists carrying weapons than tourists.
Which, conversely, was proof that frequent skirmishes broke out here.
"My, what a crowd."
It would be nice if they could just hurry along, but Yu Hwa-ryeong kept leading them deeper into the marketplace.
"Hero Yu. Didn't you say the gathering was being held on Mount Geumjeong?"
Unable to hold back, Heuk-pyo voiced the question, and Yu Hwa-ryeong flashed a bright white grin.
"If you've come to Sichuan, you simply must try Jiannan Spring."
"Can't you drink Jiannan Spring anywhere in Sichuan?"
At Heuk-pyo's reply, Yu Hwa-ryeong's expression turned serious.
"Not all Jiannan Spring is the same, my friend. The true flavor can only be found in the Jiannan Spring served at the White Cypress Tower here in Ziyang."
As if he were the chief steward of the White Cypress Tower himself, he dragged Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo along.
"Come, come. Let me show you what a true Sichuan famous liquor tastes like."
Coincidentally, it was lunchtime, and every inn and tavern they passed was packed to the brim.
But the White Cypress Tower was quiet.
Naturally so—it was a high-class establishment where even a simple dish cost at least thirty silver taels.
"Welcome, honored guests!"
The attendant at the White Cypress Tower, quick to notice their arrival, swiftly guided them to a prime window seat with an excellent view.
"Hero Yu. This place seems... rather expensive."
As Heuk-pyo whispered while glancing around, Yu Hwa-ryeong slapped the table and laughed heartily.
"Worry not. Though my martial arts may be lacking, my coin purse is more than sufficient."
Then, without hesitation, he began ordering from the waiter.
"Five bottles of Jiannan Spring, and bring us your five most confident dishes. Oh, and serve the wine in large cups—and make sure to use the good chili peppers."
"Right away, sir!"
"Here you go."
Yu Hwa-ryeong flicked a sizable silver tael as a tip, and the waiter bowed so deeply his nose nearly touched the floor.
"Thank you, sir! I'll bring the wine out immediately."
After wiping the table clean with his apron, the waiter soon returned with five wine jugs exuding a rich, fragrant aroma.
The famed liquor of Sichuan—Jiannan Spring.
"Judging by your reaction, this must be your first time in Sichuan. Am I wrong?"
At Yu Hwa-ryeong's question, Bu Eun-seol answered dryly.
"It is."
"Hahaha, splendid."
"What's so splendid about that?"
"The martial climate in Sichuan lately has been... unusual."
Yu Hwa-ryeong lowered his voice as if sharing highly classified information.
"Just look at the Sword Pavilion—they've produced Great Righteous Experts. And the Tang Clan, who've kept to themselves for so long, have finally sent their direct descendants back into the martial world."
After filling Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo's cups to the brim, he continued in a hushed tone.
"Recently, Yu Rim-wi, known as the Red-Faced Blood Saber, defeated Nam Cheon-bung, who was once called the Swiftest in Sichuan. Ever since then, duels have suddenly become all the rage in this once-quiet province."
Yu Hwa-ryeong poured wine into his own cup as he spoke.
"Because of that, countless masters and famous figures have flocked to Sichuan. I'll introduce you to them soon."
"No need."
"Why not?"
"Not interested."
Bu Eun-seol had zero interest in forming connections with martial artists.
"Well, it's not my place to interfere, but if you plan to live by the sword in this world for long, you must build relationships with prominent figures."
"..."
"If you have widespread connections among the elite, you can obtain high-quality information and even receive their aid when needed."
Yu Hwa-ryeong let out a sigh and murmured as if whispering,
"In Murim, there is no such thing as a lone wolf."
No lone wolves exist in Murim.
That statement carried multiple meanings. But Bu Eun-seol only narrowed his eyes sharply, as if refuting those words.
"Ahem."
As the atmosphere grew chilly, Yu Hwa-ryeong cleared his throat awkwardly and spoke again.
"Take our Thousand Swords Society, for example—wasn't it founded by senior swordsmen who, after reaching the limits of solitary mastery, agonized before finally establishing it? Hahaha!"
Seemingly convinced he had made an amusing joke, he burst into loud laughter.
"Come now, let's have a drink first!"
Heuk-pyo, who had been silently listening, forced a bitter smile.
Had Bu Eun-seol been an ordinary figure, this advice might have made sense—but it was utterly mismatched with his true standing.
From the very beginning, Bu Eun-seol was a pillar of the Demonic Path, a successor of the Langya Pavilion—one of the Demonic Path Ten Gates, referred to as the "Ten Heavens."
With such an overwhelming background, and considering status alone, finding someone who could even qualify to form ties with Bu Eun-seol was already an impossible feat.
"What one must obtain in Murim isn't connections—it's a good weapon."
Bu Eun-seol downed his drink in one gulp and shook his head.
"A weapon can reliably block dangers right before your eyes. What use is forming connections?"
"Hahaha. If a weapon blocks immediate dangers, then connections prevent conflicts from arising in the first place."
At Yu Hwa-ryeong's reply, Bu Eun-seol nodded smoothly and said,
"Then try blocking it."
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"Those men."
Bu Eun-seol pointed toward a corner table where three rough-looking men sat.
And they were staring at Bu Eun-seol with blatantly greedy expressions—or more precisely, their gazes were fixed on the Ink Sword strapped to his back.
"Ugh..."
Yu Hwa-ryeong swallowed hard.
Though fine swords were common in Murim, one with an entirely black blade and scabbard was nearly impossible to find.
The Ink Sword, with its rust removed, emitted a mysterious dark radiance that ensnared the covetous eyes of all who saw it.
"Well, there's no helping it."
Just as Yu Hwa-ryeong was about to rise from his seat, the heaviest among the opposing group swaggered over and arrogantly demanded of Bu Eun-seol,
"I am Heo Nam-yeol, the third of the Three Heroes of Central Henan."
"Ah, I am—"
Yu Hwa-ryeong clasped his hands and stood, but the burly man ignored him and pressed Bu Eun-seol.
"You're the winner of that Martial Arts Tournament, right?"
The gaze of the heavyset man, Heo Nam-yeol, remained locked on the Ink Sword behind Bu Eun-seol's back.
"That's right."
At Bu Eun-seol's answer, the man curled his lips.
"But the rumors say you didn't win the tournament—you colluded with the Wandering Drifters to rig the match, didn't you?"
After the tournament concluded, strange whispers had spread in certain circles.
That Bu Eun-seol, the winner, had conspired with the Wandering Drifters to steal the sword.
These rumors held some credibility—precisely because Mu Sam-rang and Yangmyeong, both favored to win, had suspiciously forfeited against Bu Eun-seol in succession.
Because of this, even some masters who had witnessed the matches firsthand began doubting whether Bu Eun-seol had truly defeated the Great Righteous Experts Yeong Ji-wi and Seomun Gyeong.
"There's even a rumor going around. That the Wandering Drifters stole the real sword and gave the winner a fake divine blade."
As Bu Eun-seol silently stared, Heo Nam-yeol grinned.
"I'm quite the sword connoisseur. If you don't mind, I'd like to appraise your blade for you."
Bu Eun-seol didn't even respond.
To a martial artist, a weapon was akin to life itself. Unless the owner offered, demanding to inspect another's weapon was the height of rudeness and ignorance.
"Don't worry. I'll just take a look and return it."
Bu Eun-seol didn't answer—he merely lifted his wine cup.
"How insolent. Here I am speaking so politely, and you won't even pretend to listen?"
Heo Nam-yeol's true nature slowly surfaced.
"Or is it because I've been too nice? Should I ask less kindly?"
"Listen here, brother. Let's not do this—hear me out."
As his threats grew blatant, Yu Hwa-ryeong rose from his seat.
"I am a member of the Thousand Swords Society, and many heroes in Sichuan—"
Thud.
At that moment, Bu Eun-seol set the Ink Sword down on the table.
The scabbard reflected the sunlight pouring through the window, radiating an enigmatic glow. There was no need for appraisal—this was undeniably an exceptional divine blade.
"You wish to appraise the sword?"
Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly—uncharacteristically so.
"Very well. If you can."
"Heh heh heh. Now we're speaking the same language."
Heo Nam-yeol smirked, convinced Bu Eun-seol had cowered before him.
"Worry not. I have a fine eye for blades—this will be an opportunity you won't regret."
The tension seemed to ease, but Heuk-pyo swallowed hard, his expression taut.
He knew all too well: when Bu Eun-seol stood on the brink of battle, his gaze grew unnervingly clear, his lips curving into a smile like spring breeze.
Unfortunately for Heo Nam-yeol, he remained ignorant of this fact.
"Now then—"
As the man reached toward the table—
"GAAAH—!"
A bloodcurdling scream tore through the inn.
Heo Nam-yeol's severed hand, cleanly chopped off at the wrist, now lay on the floor.
"Ugh... ugh..."
He stared in disbelief at the severed hand.
No one had seen the blade drawn. No flash of steel, no warning—nothing.
Even more astonishing was the fact that the prized sword, which had been on the table mere moments ago, was now strapped to Bu Eun-seol's back once more.
"You bastard—!"
The first and second of the Three Heroes of Central Henan shot up from their seats.
"Daring to attempt murder in broad daylight?!"
As they drew their weapons and lunged, Bu Eun-seol scoffed.
"Three Demons of Central Henan—how amusing, coming from you."
The two men froze like thieves caught with honey.
Their true epithet was not "Three Heroes of Central Henan" but "Three Demons of Central Henan"—infamous master thieves who had committed every vile deed imaginable across Sichuan.
Though they had evaded justice for decades, concealing both their crimes and their true appearances, not a soul had ever uncovered their real identities.
But Bu Eun-seol, having served in the Kill-Seeking Unit, was well-versed in the secrets of hidden villains—and the Three Demons were among them.
"They say you three only strike together," Bu Eun-seol remarked, watching Heo Nam-yeol scramble back to his companions, clutching his bleeding arm.
"No need for lengthy talk. Come at me all at once."
"You're rushing to your grave!"
The reason the Three Demons had remained undetected wasn't just their martial prowess—it was their mastery of poison and hidden weapons.
Resolved to eliminate Bu Eun-seol, they unleashed a storm of toxins and concealed blades from their sleeves.
"You'll die here—!"
But their words were cut short.
Crimson lines bloomed across their throats.
Clatter—! Splurt—!
Hidden weapons rained to the floor as blood sprayed in all directions. Screams erupted through the inn.
—AAAAH!
Bu Eun-seol left as though nothing had happened.
Heuk-pyo followed indifferently, as if accustomed to such scenes, but Yu Hwa-ryeong stood frozen, mouth agape.
"No matter how vile they were—!"
Staring at the three mangled corpses, he finally snapped out of his daze and chased after Bu Eun-seol, shouting:
"How could you slaughter them so ruthlessly?!"
Bu Eun-seol halted, his voice icy.
"The Three Demons were irredeemable scum."
Yu Hwa-ryeong had heard of their infamy.
But this was beyond justification.
"All they did was ask to see your sword!"
"Do you truly believe that?"
Of course not. The Three Demons had coveted the Ink Sword—they would have stolen it by any means.
What infuriated Yu Hwa-ryeong was that despite Bu Eun-seol's overwhelming skill, he had shown no mercy.
"Even the lives of villains are not yours to take so lightly!"
"I am no Buddhist monk. If I do not make an example of them, thieves will line up to seize my blade."
Bu Eun-seol spoke as indifferently as if discussing the weather.
"Naturally, this will repeat three or four times before rumors spread."
"You'll keep killing?!"
"Do you see another choice?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong exhaled deeply, his voice stern.
"If you disregard human life so callously—relying solely on your martial arts—then you are no better than the villains! I cannot travel with you!"
Bu Eun-seol's lips curled into a cold smile.
"As you wish."
"Wha—?"
"You were the one who sought my company."
And with that, he rose leisurely.
Yu Hwa-ryeong stood dumbfounded, staring at Bu Eun-seol's retreating back as he strolled out of the inn.
"Wait—hold on!"