Chapter 85
Clack, clack.
Bu Eun-seol and Heuk-pyo rode in the carriage borrowed by Yu Hwa-ryeong as they left the village.
During the journey to their destination, Yu Hwa-ryeong shared many stories.
The Thousand Swords Society and Langya Pavilion had quite a few similarities. Both pursued the boundless Martial Way and rejected empty formalities.
"Now, you must answer me."
When they finally arrived at Mount Geumjeong, where the Thousand Swords Society's gathering was to be held, Bu Eun-seol asked:
"Why exactly did the Thousand Swords Society send people into the Martial World to seek out prodigies? What condition were they looking for?"
From the moment Bu Eun-seol first met Yu Hwa-ryeong, he had immediately discerned that they were searching for prodigies who met a specific condition.
If the Thousand Swords Society was seeking exceptional talents to inherit their sword techniques—regardless of whether they belonged to the Orthodox or Unorthodox Paths—then why not simply spread rumors that they were recruiting? Countless skilled individuals would have flocked to them.
In fact, hadn't they even attached the unprecedented condition that it didn't matter which faction one belonged to? That was utterly absurd!
"Good. I'll tell you now."
Yu Hwa-ryeong let out a brief sigh before speaking.
"As I mentioned before, this gathering was organized by the Second Seat, Martial Uncle Seoksong. And my master, the Seventh Seat of our society, Elder Uhak, is also present."
Seoksong and Uhak. The two were supreme masters of the previous generation who once roamed the Martial World alone.
"This sword technique was created by the two of them after much deliberation. The problem is, not only could none of our society's disciples master it—even the two of them couldn't wield it properly."
Bu Eun-seol couldn't understand.
How could the creators of a sword technique be unable to master it? That would mean they had only imagined the technique into existence.
"Of course, it's not a fictional sword technique. It's just that to unleash its full power, one condition must be met."
"And what is that?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Yu Hwa-ryeong gave a bitter smile.
"Killing Intent."
He exhaled deeply before continuing.
"To properly wield the sword technique those two created, one must possess an innate, overwhelming Killing Intent."
Heuk-pyo, wearing an expression of disbelief, asked:
"Why would those two create such a technique? Do they have enemies?"
"I don't know the reason. Only they would."
Bu Eun-seol did not take Yu Hwa-ryeong's words at face value.
What fool in this world would pass down a peerless martial art to just anyone? Such a thing was impossible.
There had to be a hidden reason—some condition or justification that would make sense once revealed.
Screech.
Just then, the carriage came to a halt.
And before them stood a gently sloping mountain, the sun resting atop its peak. Mount Geumjeong.
"You'll be staying here until the entire process is complete."
Yu Hwa-ryeong pointed to a large building erected at the mountain's base and spoke to Heuk-pyo.
"You shouldn't face any discomfort while waiting."
"Understood. Ah, and..."
Heuk-pyo, as if suddenly remembering something, lowered his voice to a whisper.
"Last night, while you were away, Young Master, the Wolf Lord sent a messenger. He said everything you requested has been completed as of yesterday."
"Good."
Bu Eun-seol gave a slight nod, and Heuk-pyo clasped his hands together.
"I pray for your martial fortunes, Young Master."
Following Yu Hwa-ryeong again, they ascended to the mountainside, where a massive iron gate stood.
It seemed they had used Mechanical Engineering to construct artificial structures inside.
"Is this the Thousand Swords Society's main temple?"
At Bu Eun-seol's question, Yu Hwa-ryeong shook his head.
"How could it be? This is just one of the many secret locations our society has prepared. It's filled with hidden mechanisms, making it ideal for transmitting sword techniques."
Judging by the depth in his eyes, it seemed Yu Hwa-ryeong had also received his sword technique here.
Noticing Bu Eun-seol's expression, Yu Hwa-ryeong's gaze turned slightly embarrassed.
"I lacked the qualifications to inherit that technique. No—most of the Thousand Swords Society's disciples did."
As if trying to shake off the thoughts in his head, he shook it slightly and spoke.
"Enough pointless talk. Here, put this on before we enter."
In his outstretched hand lay a rabbit mask large enough to conceal one's entire face.
"Wear this until you leave Mount Geumjeong. And once inside, never reveal your name to anyone."
"What do you mean?"
"The Thousand Swords Society seeks prodigies of exceptional talent—not a bloodbath between the righteous and unorthodox factions."
"Hmm."
Bu Eun-seol nodded, understanding Yu Hwa-ryeong's implication.
Inside that building, countless masters from both factions, brought by disciples of the Thousand Swords Society, would be gathered.
And among them, there might be those who held grudges against one another.
"Quite meticulous of you."
"Hahaha. Gathering prodigies regardless of faction allegiance is no easy task."
Yu Hwa-ryeong also pulled a rabbit mask from his robes and put it on.
"Go in first. I'll join you shortly."
Upon entering, a long corridor lined with lanterns came into view.
Following the path, Bu Eun-seol stepped onto a floor paved with bluestone slabs before arriving at a vast clearing roughly three hundred feet wide.
There, about thirty martial artists stood wearing masks, and at the far end of the clearing, a high stone altar had been erected.
'So one person can bring multiple candidates, it seems.'
Among the masked martial artists, he spotted three or four wearing identical masks.
Since there was likely only one accompanying disciple from the Thousand Swords Society, it was likely that a single disciple had escorted multiple candidates.
'That man...'
As Bu Eun-seol scanned the gathered martial artists, his eyes sharpened upon spotting a man wearing a fox mask.
Tall and broad-shouldered, clad in yellow robes with a leather pouch hanging from his waist—it was unmistakably Tang Gon.
"Well, well."
The fox-masked man, Tang Gon, also recognized Bu Eun-seol the moment he saw the rabbit mask and exclaimed.
"So you were invited here as well."
Tang Gon's low voice was thick with bitterness.
Not long ago, Bu Eun-seol had rejected his goodwill and offer of friendship.
—Because we might end up pointing swords at each other.
Most martial arts transmissions involved selecting candidates through duels.
But now that they were both competing to inherit the Thousand Swords Society's technique, that possibility had become very real.
Kwoong.
Just then, a door at the far end of the wall where the altar stood slid open, revealing two elderly men dressed in white robes, their presence as ethereal as immortals.
They were the masters presiding over this assembly—the Second Seat, Seoksong, and the Seventh Seat, Uhak, of the Thousand Swords Society.
"Welcome. I am Seoksong, holding the Second Seat in our society."
As Seoksong spoke impassively, the elder beside him added,
"And I am Uhak, the Seventh Seat."
Seoksong and Uhak.
These two were supreme masters of the previous generation, renowned for standing unrivaled in the martial world.
Yet after joining the Thousand Swords Society, they had vanished from the martial world—until now, when they emerged to pass down a newly created sword technique.
"You've all heard the details on your way here. After years of collaboration, we've devised a single sword technique."
Uhak, who had glanced briefly at Seoksong, spoke with a bitter expression.
"However, this technique can only be mastered by those with an innate abundance of killing intent. Unfortunately, none among our disciples possess such a disposition."
His gaze swept over the thirty-odd martial artists gathered below the altar before he continued.
"So we dispatched disciples into the martial world to seek prodigies capable of learning it—those naturally brimming with killing intent."
At those words, some of the martial artists exchanged puzzled looks.
After all, while there were demonic practitioners present, a considerable number appeared to be orthodox faction masters.
"Killing intent is merely a disposition. It matters not whether one follows the righteous or unorthodox path."
Seoksong chuckled, reading the crowd's hesitation.
"For a society like ours, existing between the orthodox and heterodox, to discriminate based on faction would be absurd."
Instantly, the expressions of the assembled martial artists brightened.
They had harbored doubts about the Thousand Swords Society's offer, but now it seemed true—they truly intended to transmit this supreme art regardless of sect affiliation.
"Does that mean everyone gathered here will receive the sword technique?"
At that moment, a man wearing a bear mask with twin swords strapped to his back raised his voice and asked.
"Of course not."
Uhak answered flatly.
"We must verify whether you're capable of mastering this technique. We intend to select through a trial."
"A duel?"
"Far from it. We merely wish to teach the sword technique. The level of one's martial arts is irrelevant. As long as you pass the gate we've set, we will impart the technique."
Then Tang Gon, the fox-masked man who had been listening silently, spoke up.
"Then if everyone here passes the gate? Will you teach all of them?"
"Such a thing is unlikely, but if it happens, then yes, we will teach them all. However—"
Uhak paused briefly before continuing in a solemn tone.
"We absolutely cannot teach those who are truly wicked."
At that, Seoksong, standing nearby, stepped forward, his eyes flashing.
"So if any of you have killed innocent civilians, leave this place at once."
Perhaps due to the surge of his internal energy, Seoksong's voice was as eerie as the cawing of a raven beneath the gray sky.
"If such a person remains here once the trial begins, death will befall them."
A heavy silence fell over the stone chamber. Yet, no one left.
"There are no villains here who have slain innocent civilians."
A voice spoke from the back—a man wearing a lion mask. His tone suggested he was a disciple of the Thousand Swords Society.
"The disciples assigned to this task are all experienced in the martial world. Knowing the master's stern temperament, we would never have brought any wicked individuals in the first place."
"Is that so?"
Then, in an instant, Seoksong moved with lightning-like speed.
Whoosh!
His figure, now like a white cloud, stood abruptly before a man wearing a demon mask who had been standing to Bu Eun-seol's left.
"What—?"
"Did you not hear what I just said?"
"What nonsense is this? I am no villain."
A fellow disciple wearing the same demon mask stepped forward, waving his hand dismissively.
"He may be called 'Half-Righteous, Half-Evil,' so he isn't entirely clean... but he has certainly never killed an innocent—"
"This man slaughtered thirteen innocent civilians in Jinan and splattered their blood."
Seoksong's voice was heavy.
"Only, he covered his tracks meticulously, always eliminating witnesses afterward. That's why it remained unknown..."
Slash!
In that instant, the demon-masked man drew his sword like a flash of lightning. The attack was sudden, so fast it was impossible to predict.
Thud.
Yet, the blade stopped just before reaching Seoksong's throat.
"..."
Silence filled the chamber.
Seoksong, staring at the demon-masked man, turned away as if nothing had happened and ascended the stone altar.
Splurt!
Blood gushed from the demon-masked man's neck.
Seoksong had used a sword stroke several times faster than the man's initial strike, severing his carotid artery.
A wet, gurgling sound faded as the man collapsed to the ground with a thud.
"I repeat—we cannot teach the wicked."
Seoksong's words resonated once more.
But this time, Uhak's eyes flashed.
Whoosh!
With movement like a streak of light, he appeared directly before Bu Eun-seol, who wore a rabbit mask.
"You killed a man renowned as a chivalrous hero—without reason."
Yu Hwa-ryeong, standing behind Bu Eun-seol in his own rabbit mask, leaped forward in protest.
"But that man wasn't an innocent civilian! And it happened during a legitimate duel!"
"Wrong. According to our intelligence, you had more than enough skill to subdue him—yet you killed him deliberately."
Yu Hwa-ryeong fell silent, as if struck dumb.
It was true.
If Bu Eun-seol had the skill to kill Yangmyeong in an instant, he could have handled Yeop Hwa with a single finger.
Uhak fixed Bu Eun-seol with a terrifying glare.
"Killing a hero who did good is no different from killing an innocent civilian."
The tension was razor-sharp. Just as Uhak's hand moved toward his sword—
Suddenly, Bu Eun-seol burst into laughter as if he could no longer contain himself.
"Hahaha!"