Chapter 84
Yu Hwa-ryeong hurriedly rushed in front of Bu Eun-seol and spoke.
"How can you sever human bonds so ruthlessly?"
"You were the one who severed them."
"No, what I mean is—no matter how wicked a person is, how can you strike them down without the slightest hesitation...?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong, who had been muttering under his breath, suddenly seemed to recall something and murmured quietly.
"I see... So this is why the masters sought someone like you."
The expression on Yu Hwa-ryeong's face as he shook his head was deeply bitter and pained.
"I merely wished to offer you some advice. Let us proceed as planned."
Though his words were composed, his expression was heavy.
As a swordsman of the Thousand Swords Society, he possessed outstanding martial prowess, but regrettably, his heart seemed far too tender.
"Hero Yu."
Heuk-pyo, who had been watching the exchange, spoke cautiously.
"Instead of dwelling on it, why not observe for a few more days? Then you'll understand why the Young Master acts as he does."
"What do you mean?"
"The martial world is treacherous."
Heuk-pyo continued carefully, yet calmly.
"Surely, there will be no end to those who covet the Young Master's sword. Do you truly believe such incidents won't occur?"
"That goes without saying."
"Do you really think so?"
Yu Hwa-ryeong nodded firmly.
"This is Sichuan, a land teeming with renowned heroes of the martial world. Such things are hardly commonplace."
"Very well. Then let us make a wager."
"A wager?"
Heuk-pyo nodded.
"If no one attempts to steal the sword within the next few days, I will build a shrine for the Three Demons of Central Henan and mourn them for three years."
"Hoh."
"But if such incidents continue to occur, I ask that you refrain from blaming the Young Master for being merciless."
Yu Hwa-ryeong studied Heuk-pyo anew.
He had assumed the man was merely a contracted rogue follower, but it seemed he held genuine loyalty toward Bu Eun-seol.
"Very well."
Yu Hwa-ryeong answered confidently.
"Let it be so."
He was a disciple of the Thousand Swords Society, with extensive connections throughout the martial world. He believed that if he intervened, such incidents would never happen again.
But how could he have known?
That Bu Eun-seol had a peculiar way of provoking hostility in the wicked.
And that he possessed an uncanny ability to draw conflict whenever his eyes met those who bore him ill will...
A few days later, inside the second floor of the Fragrant Tea House.
Thud!
The bulky frame of Seok Il-gun, the Nine-Ring Twin Flier, who had picked a fight to seize Bu Eun-seol's Ink Sword, shattered a table.
Crash!
Ung Gyeom, an assassin of the Ice Slaughter Sect, who had seized the opportunity to launch a sneak attack on Bu Eun-seol, was sent flying through a window.
"..."
Yu Hwa-ryeong, who had been holding a teacup, stared wide-eyed at the scene.
This was already the third time.
Those who sought to steal the Ink Sword by picking fights or ambushing him...
As if afflicted by some madness, every master who coveted the divine sword would inevitably clash with Bu Eun-seol the moment their eyes met.
And without fail, they would be sent flying, battered and bloodied.
Ugh...
Yu Hwa-ryeong set down his teacup and slumped his shoulders as he watched.
He, too, had wandered the martial world for years after leaving the Thousand Swords Society. But he had never seen someone attract trouble as frequently as Bu Eun-seol.
This is like iron filings drawn to a magnet!
It was as if every wicked soul in Sichuan had gathered around Bu Eun-seol.
Those who wield divine swords are rare, but not unheard of in the martial world. So why does this only happen to him?
The truth was, it was due to Bu Eun-seol's striking beauty.
Though tall, his features were more exquisite than those of many renowned beauties. His Supreme Yang Acupoint was unremarkable, and his slender frame made him resemble a delicate young master from a wealthy family rather than a martial artist.
In short, his delicate beauty was so unthreatening that even a child would feel no wariness. Thus, martial artists who bore him ill will had no qualms about picking fights.
If it were just reckless ruffians from the Demonic Path provoking him, I could understand...
But among those who had challenged Bu Eun-seol these past few days were renowned heroes of the orthodox factions, rising talents of the younger generation, the Jade Flute Sword, and even the Wind and Cloud Divine Dragon.
In other words, it proved that greed for the divine sword knew no distinction between orthodox and unorthodox.
Just as Yu Hwa-ryeong stared blankly at the shattered window with unfocused eyes—
"How about it?"
Heuk-pyo grinned and spoke.
"Do you still believe our Young Master is needlessly cruel for striking them down?"
Ahem.
Yu Hwa-ryeong had nothing to say.
From Bu Eun-seol's perspective, it would be more abnormal not to retaliate.
Countless individuals schemed day and night to steal the Ink Sword, threatening his life. If he did not make an example of them, such incidents would undoubtedly repeat endlessly.
"I admit I was rash."
Yu Hwa-ryeong let out a sigh deep enough to sink the earth and clasped his hands together toward Bu Eun-seol.
"I owe you an apology as well. I'm sorry."
Bu Eun-seol shook his head as if it were nothing.
"Don't trouble yourself over it."
Night had fallen.
Perhaps exhausted from the trials of the past few days, Yu Hwa-ryeong fell into a deep sleep as soon as he entered the guest inn.
Heuk-pyo sat crouched in a corner, reading the movement technique manual Bu Eun-seol had given him.
"Hmm."
Bu Eun-seol spoke softly as he watched him.
"Don't stay there. Read comfortably at the table."
"It's fine."
"I'll be stepping out for a moment anyway."
As Bu Eun-seol rose, Heuk-pyo closed the book and stood.
"Are you hungry? Shall I find a good tavern nearby?"
"I just need some fresh air."
Stepping outside the inn, Bu Eun-seol unleashed the Swift Shadowless technique and ascended to the roof of a high pavilion.
I should start refining my fist techniques soon.
Truthfully, ever since reading the Fist Demon's manual, he had pondered the principles of fist techniques day and night.
He had even wondered, while wielding his sword, whether he could merge sword techniques into fist techniques. The Fist Demon's teachings were seared into his mind like a Fire Brand.
"Now that those who seek my sword have nearly vanished, I thought it time to practice martial arts."
Whoosh.
Bu Eun-seol unfurled a movement technique swift as the wind, carrying him deep into the forest far from the village.
By chance, he discovered a lush bamboo grove swaying with verdant leaves. Bathed in moonlight, he once again recalled the secret manual of the Fist Demon.
Swish.
Drawing a half-circle in the air, Bu Eun-seol unleashed the first stance of the Fist Demon's technique.
The method of body, hands and feet—most cannot go beyond the sword.
The way one uses their body and limbs is not so different from the principles of swordsmanship.
But the Fist Demon's fist art was entirely different. It was unbound by the logic of any martial discipline, executing techniques with Effortless Freedom—unrestricted by conventional principles.
Because it was built upon absolute confidence—that it could shatter an opponent's technique before it even fully unfolded.
Swoosh!
As Bu Eun-seol threw a single punch, the Sound of Breaking Air erupted, followed by a powerful gust of wind.
Thud.
Simultaneously, the bamboo before him vanished without a trace. It had been utterly pulverized by the overwhelming force of his strike.
"This isn't it."
Yet Bu Eun-seol shook his head with dissatisfaction.
The Fist Demon's fist art was not merely about raw power—it had to reach the Realm of No Trace.
In other words, it must leave behind no sign, no evidence of its passage.
Swoosh!
He unleashed another fist technique, and another bamboo shattered into fragments.
This time, the wind was less turbulent, the sound of force diminished. Still, the Realm of No Trace remained elusive.
I can take my time.
Mastering the Fist Demon's fist art was akin to reaching the pinnacle of swordsmanship.
It could not be achieved in a single stroke. Even a lifetime of training might not bring one to a satisfying level of mastery.
Rustle.
Then, from somewhere, came the faintest whisper of sound—a sensation only Bu Eun-seol, trained in the Way of the Beast, could perceive.
Swoosh!
His fist strike tore through the air once more.
The unleashed force, like a sword's edge honed to its limit, swept through the bamboo grove more than ten zhang away.
"An impressive fist art."
The figure hidden within the bamboo forest did not meet the force head-on but instead leaped into the air.
Whirl!
Hovering mid-air, the shadow spun like a top, dispersing the force with dazzling grace.
It was the most exquisite and flamboyant movement technique Bu Eun-seol had ever witnessed since entering the Martial World.
Thud.
The figure landed—a sturdy man clad in yellow robes. He approached Bu Eun-seol and clasped his hands respectfully.
"My apologies. I happened to pass by and inadvertently witnessed your training."
Observing another's martial practice was taboo in the Martial World. Yet the man stood with unshaken confidence, hands still pressed together.
"If you'll forgive the intrusion, allow me to offer this as a token of apology."
From a leather pouch, he produced a single golden flower.
It was the Pear Blossom Leaf—a hidden weapon token carried only by the Sichuan Tang Clan's direct-line masters.
In Sichuan, the most common and renowned tree was the pear tree.
The Sichuan Tang Clan had fashioned its petals into a sigil, and this was the Pear Blossom Leaf.
Bu Eun-seol stared at it intently.
For a master of the Eight Great Families to offer their clan's sigil held immense significance—it was something given only to a lover or a close friend.
"I am Tang Gon. And you are?"
The yellow-robed man, Tang Gon, grinned brightly, hands still clasped.
But Bu Eun-seol's expression remained cold as he studied the Pear Blossom Leaf.
"Why give this to me?"
"After seeing just that one strike, I could tell the heights of mastery you've reached."
"So you're saying martial prowess alone makes one worthy of the Tang Clan's company?"
"That's not what I meant. I simply took a liking to you."
"Have you considered that I might be a vile Demonkin or a master of the Demonic Path?"
Bu Eun-seol's icy gaze bore into him.
Had Tang Gon harbored hostility, that frigid stare might have ignited fury and killing intent.
Instead, he burst into laughter.
"Hahaha. Our clan maintains ties not only with the Righteous Faction but also with many sects of the Demonic Path. So a Demonic Path master means nothing to me... And if you were truly a wicked Evil Person, then I'd have to question my own judgment."
Tang Gon spoke with unshaken confidence.
As befitting a direct-line master of the Eight Great Families, he possessed not only exceptional martial skill but also unwavering discernment.
"Will you accept it?"
Bu Eun-seol studied him silently.
Tang Gon's eyes shone not just with confidence but with genuine goodwill.
Accepting this would mean no one in Sichuan would dare trouble Bu Eun-seol. And for the first time in his journey through the Martial World, he would have a friend.
—The storms of the martial world are treacherous. Trust no one... and be cautious.
Suddenly, the final words of the Gong Twin Demons surfaced in his mind.
They had once been comrades—yet in the end, they became enemies who took each other's lives.
"Hm."
Bu Eun-seol exhaled lowly and shook his head.
Flick.
He tossed the Pear Blossom Leaf back to Tang Gon.
"Does this Tang Gon lack the qualifications to be your close friend?"
Tang Gon's expression stiffened as Bu Eun-seol met his gaze with arid eyes and shook his head again.
"The Martial World has no need for close friends."
"Why not?"
"Because you never know when you'll have to point your sword at each other."
At Bu Eun-seol's words, Tang Gon seemed to ponder deeply before releasing a heavy sigh.
"That may be true."
Even now, within the Tang Clan, blood relatives schemed against one another for the position of Family Head.
No matter how strong a bond might seem in the Martial World, when interests clashed, anyone could become an enemy.
"But at least I deserve to know your name."
"Bu Eun-seol."
Tang Gon let out an “Ah” at the curt reply.
"Champion of the Eastern Drifters, Western Wanderers Martial Tournament—the rising star said to have appeared like a comet in the Martial World. So it's you."
Bu Eun-seol turned away without answering.
"But you should know this as well."
Tang Gon wore a faint smile as he spoke.
"In the Martial World, there are also those rare bonds—friendships so deep you'd give your life without regret."
"I'll keep that in mind."
Bu Eun-seol and Tang Gon turned away from each other.
Yet, as if bound by some unspoken promise, both their expressions held the same faint smile.