Chapter 982
The Holy Demon Pavilion
The four-story pavilion where the Demonic Heavenly Emperor resided was the largest and most magnificent structure within the Demon Hall.
At its very peak stood the Demon Heaven Palace—the private quarters of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor—alongside the Spirit Treasure Pavilion, a repository housing forbidden texts and secret manuals.
The third floor contained the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's office and the Hidden Demon Pavilion, a space where he entertained distinguished guests over tea. The second floor housed the Grand Hall, where subordinates were assembled and orders were issued.
Inside, one hundred and eight massive pillars, each engraved with dragon and cloud motifs, stood imposingly. The ceiling was adorned with celestial stones that recreated the night sky, their constellations shifting with the passage of time.
The lowest floor held the mechanisms safeguarding the Holy Demon Pavilion, an armory, and a permanent standby force of elite martial artists.
The Altar of the Grand Hall
Upon a throne that rose like a jade seat overlooking the world, a single figure sat.
The ruler of the Demon Hall.
The current Number One of the Demonic Path.
The Demonic Heavenly Emperor.
The hem of his robes lay so heavily that not even the gentlest breeze could stir them.
His pupils held a deep and dark abyss.
The throne, crafted from Precious Kun Jade, bore an emblem embodying the very essence of the Demonic Path.
The seat itself exuded a crushing pressure, as though steeped in blood and darkness, while its backrest rose sharply like the claws of a dragon tearing through the heavens.
Below the throne stood Jeok Bung, the Blood Demon and master of the Elders' Hall.
This was not a gathering of the Demon Palace's core members—it was a place to punish a sinner: the Martial Soul Lord.
As the highest authority of the Disciplinary Hall, the master of the Elders' Hall had attended for this purpose.
Clad in crimson robes, he stood in silence like a blood-red dragon towering over the Grand Hall, radiating an indescribably overbearing energy.
Beneath the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's feet, stretching from the throne to the entrance of the Grand Hall, warriors of the Disciplinary Hall—including its master—stood in two disciplined rows.
—What are they doing here?
The Disciplinary Hall's warriors tilted their heads in confusion.
When the announcement came that the Martial Soul Lord had arrived at the Demon Hall and was heading straight here, unfamiliar figures had already lined up around the throne where the Demonic Heavenly Emperor sat.
Strangely, they stood even closer than the master of the Elders' Hall—a man who held real power within the Demon Hall.
Creeeak—
At that moment, the massive gates, spanning about thirty feet, swung open, revealing a figure clad in black robes.
Bu Eun-seol.
"Martial Soul Lord Bu Eun-seol has returned after completing the mission entrusted to him."
Instantly, the warriors of the Disciplinary Hall widened their eyes.
Instead of immediately kneeling in penitence—an act that would still be insufficient—he declared his return as boldly as a triumphant general?
Moreover, such words should only be spoken after approaching the Demonic Heavenly Emperor and paying respects. Yet here he was, shouting from the entrance like a grandson casually greeting his grandfather after playing outside.
Huuuung—
From the abyss-like depths of the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's pupils, dark radiance pulsed outward in tendrils.
The warriors held their breaths.
The Martial Soul Lord, once the successor of the Demon Hall, had now become a grave criminal who defied the Demonic Heavenly Emperor's orders.
And as he spoke so defiantly—
An invisible pressure cascaded down the passage where they stood in formation.
Giiiiing—
As though heaven and earth were collapsing, the air evaporated, and space itself twisted.
—At this rate, he'll have no choice but to crawl on his knees.
Even those standing in formation beside the passage—where the pressure was not directly applied—found themselves unable to breathe.
Now, the Martial Soul Lord would have to walk this path to reach the altar where the Demonic Heavenly Emperor sat.
No matter how profound his internal energy, even if he had reached a realm far beyond what was previously known...
There was absolutely no way he could walk this path standing tall.
Step. Step.
Yet Bu Eun-seol, his gaze clear as he looked up at the Demonic Heavenly Emperor, walked forward with his posture perfectly straight.
Crunch. Crack.
With each step, the marble beneath his feet crumbled into dust.
As the Martial Soul Lord advanced, the long path leading to the Grand Hall began to be engulfed by a sinister demonic art, one that denied the very existence of life itself.
Step. Step.
But Bu Eun-seol continued forward with an unbothered expression.
His eyes were so clear they seemed to radiate righteousness, and his gait was as relaxed as a leisurely stroll.
—Something's different.
The warriors of the Disciplinary Hall stared wide-eyed.
Originally, Bu Eun-seol's aura had been somewhat bleak and lonely.
Though he had occasionally displayed a mad, overbearing dominance, those moments were fleeting—leading many to believe it was merely a calculated act to solidify his position as successor.
But now, he exuded an unfamiliar yet gentle atmosphere, one they had never seen before.
—He's become... more ordinary?
Though he had already surpassed the realm of Tranquil Stillness, appearing utterly ordinary, now even that ordinariness had been washed away, leaving behind a naturalness so unassuming it seemed to reject even the slightest attention.
Gazing at his profile, one felt as though standing alone in an ancient forest—
A deep, shaded place untouched by sunlight, yet filled with warmth and silence... a forest of profound depth.
Giiiiing—
The pressure intensified.
Blood seeped from the lips of the warriors lining the passage.
—Guhhh.
Forget breathing—this bizarre pressure crushed even their spirit and mind.
The Disciplinary Hall, responsible for punishing sinners, was composed of only the most exceptional warriors, each possessing strength comparable to a second-grade commander.
In truth, their skill was nearly on par with the warriors of the Special-Class Elite Unit.
Yet—
Even though they were some distance away from the pressure pouring down the passageway,
the Disciplinary Hall warriors could no longer endure the agony and let out pained groans.
—Does the Demonic Heavenly Emperor truly intend to kill us first?
Their eyes widened, but the crushing pressure blurred their vision—
all they could make out was the faint silhouette of Bu Eun-seol walking forward.
Step. Step.
Only about fifty paces remained to the throne.
The energy flooding the passageway was no mere pressure.
It was an absolute force, as if the universe itself were collapsing upon them—pure, unadulterated demonic power, something no human body could possibly withstand.
Yet Bu Eun-seol did not stop.
Whoosh.
In an instant, a serene but formidable energy rippled from his body like a gust of wind, enveloping his surroundings.
Beneath his feet, auspicious rays of light bloomed upward.
The space itself, which had been screaming under the pressure, began to breathe anew with each step he took.
Unbroken even by this terrifying force, he advanced with his back straight, his posture unyielding.
Wherever his footsteps landed, it was as though flowers bloomed, as though the very air of the world was being purified.
Before anyone realized it, Bu Eun-seol had arrived at the base of the stone altar's steps, where the Demonic Heavenly Emperor awaited.
The watching warriors all gaped in shock.
But their optic nerves were so crushed by the pressure that they could only perceive the hazy scene around the altar.
Thud.
In the end, the warriors of the Disciplinary Hall—like condemned criminals—dropped to their knees, powerless to resist, and bowed their heads.
Only Jeok Bung and a few unfamiliar figures standing beside the Demonic Heavenly Emperor observed the scene with detached calm.
—What in the world is happening?
Some of the warriors, gritting through the pain, strained to keep their eyes fixed on the altar.
But the excruciating agony, as if their eyeballs were about to burst, forced them to lower their heads and gasp for ragged breaths.
—The Demonic Heavenly Emperor has already resolved to kill the Martial Soul Lord.
If even those outside the pressure's center suffered this much, then—
the body of the Martial Soul Lord standing at its heart should have long been reduced to dust.
—So this was the meaning of the Life and Death Palm Decree.
The Demonic Heavenly Emperor had publicly declared that failure in this mission would result in the Life and Death Palm Decree—an inescapable punishment.
But who could have guessed that "inescapable" meant an absolute force capable of grinding even one's flesh to powder?
—At this rate, we'll die too.
The Disciplinary Hall warriors clenched their teeth.
Being farther from the passageway, they could barely endure the pressure. Holding their breath was possible, if only briefly.
But the demonic intimidation, threatening to crush their very existence, was slowly causing their bodies to collapse.
—Ugh...
A single moment felt like an eternity.
Just as their bones were about to shatter—
Ssssshh.
As if it had all been a lie, the pressure vanished entirely.
The warriors, whose souls had nearly been forced out through their throats, finally gasped for air as their blurred vision gradually returned.
—What just happened?
They frantically looked around.
Both the Demonic Heavenly Emperor upon the throne and the Martial Soul Lord approaching the altar had vanished without a trace.
The only one remaining was Jeok Bung, Hall Leader of the Elders' Hall, standing solemnly at the base of the altar.
"Hmm."
The Elders' Hall Leader let out a low hum before slowly turning and exiting the Great Hall, heading outside the Holy Demon Pavilion.
"..."
Unable to contain their confusion, the Disciplinary Hall warriors swarmed toward their Hall Leader.
"What in the world just happened?" asked Deputy Hall Leader Jeong Geuk.
The Hall Leader weakly shook his head.
"I don't know. All I saw..."
His face was drenched in cold sweat, his eyelids trembling.
"...was the Demonic Heavenly Emperor and the Martial Soul Lord standing face to face. That's all."
"Standing... face to face?"
Jeong Geuk repeated, as if he couldn't believe it.
Under normal circumstances, perhaps.
But this was the Great Hall of the Holy Demon Pavilion, where the Demonic Heavenly Emperor sat upon his throne—he permitted no one to meet his gaze at eye level.
And wasn't the Martial Soul Lord a condemned criminal, sentenced to the Life and Death Palm Decree?
How could the Demonic Heavenly Emperor allow a mere sinner to stand before him as an equal?
"That makes no sense."
"Which is why I said I don't know."
The Hall Leader's expression was that of a man who had just woken from a horrible nightmare.
"Dismissed."
Seeing the Hall Leader still drenched in sweat, Jeong Geuk and the Disciplinary Hall warriors could press no further. They bowed respectfully and withdrew.
"Hmm..."
Outside the Holy Demon Pavilion, Elders' Hall Leader Jeok Bung's brow was deeply furrowed.
'The Martial Soul Lord... could wield his power.'
Bu Eun-seol's aura.
Did it not stir long-forgotten memories from decades past?
Thirty years ago,
Jeok Bung, true to his alias Blood Demon,
had shaken the Martial World with an unbroken trail of bloodshed.
—Better to meet Yama than the Blood Demon.
Such was the saying that spread through the Rivers and Lakes at the time.
The only ones who could survive before the Blood Demon were
civilians who knew no martial arts... and loyal followers of the Demonic Path.
Anyone who so much as displeased him—whether from the Demonic or Righteous Path—would be reduced to a bloody pulp in an instant.
And yet, at the height of his invincibility,
while drinking alone in a pavilion of a guest inn, gazing at the night scenery—
Whoosh.
A man clad in deep ocean-blue robes, wreathed in divine energy, suddenly appeared before him.
"Elder Jeok."
The man in blue sighed without preamble.
"You slaughter far too many, and far too indiscriminately."
The Blood Demon burst into disbelieving laughter.
"What an extraordinary fool we have here."
With a look of utter disdain, he set down his wine cup.
Long ago, he had broken through the boundaries of the Extreme Heaven Realm.
He had once beaten to death with his bare hands Jeon Woo, the "Heartless Sword," who had been the most revered figure among the orthodox factions of the Murim Realm.
And now, he stood as one of the Three Demons.
Since then, not a single soul had dared to speak harshly to his face.
Yet here was this brash young man in blue, not only addressing him as "elder brother" but even presuming to lecture him?
"Hohoho."
And yet—he laughed.
The unexpected novelty of it all was strangely refreshing.
It was like savoring a freshly brewed wine and a dish stir-fried on the spot—there was even a certain exhilaration in it.
"Roaming the Murim, you come across them from time to time," Jeok Bung said, retracting his laughter and baring his fangs in a cold smile.
"Arrogant little whelps who, having reached a decent level at a young age, strut about as if they were the Supreme Martial Lord himself."
"Supreme Martial Lord, you say?"
The man in blue grinned faintly and nodded.
"Perhaps I should have ascended to such a position long ago."
CRACK.
Jeok Bung scoffed, as if the man wasn't even worth his time, and reached for his wine cup.
At the same time, the force of the Sky Shattering Extreme Wheel swallowed the young man's body in an instant.
Squelch. Splatter.
The man in blue was reduced to an unrecognizable pulp of blood and flesh, splattering onto the floor.
"Just when I was enjoying the night view with a drink, something amusing happens."
Glug, glug.
He refilled his cup to the brim.
But before he could lift it—
Though he had clearly turned the man into a puddle of blood—
There he stood again, unharmed, smiling gently before him.
"Well, well."
Jeok Bung crossed his arms behind his back and nodded slowly, observing the lofty figure before him.
"You've cultivated a rather unique martial art."
He could tell at once.
This was no sorcery or grand ritual.
The young man had unveiled a profound and mysterious martial principle—one never before conceived.
"Let the energy flow as it wills, and the path shall unfold naturally..."
Jeok Bung's eyes gleamed with interest as they traced the man's form.
"So you're a Daoist?"
"Do I look like a Daoist to you?"
"No. You look like an insolent brat who'll soon be sobbing pathetically before the King of Hell."
Despite Jeok Bung's scathing words, the man merely chuckled.
"Elder Brother Jeok. When your martial prowess finally breaks free from the confines of the Martial Extreme Realm, you'll come to understand just what this power is."
"What did you say?"
"Truth be told, I agonized over this on my way here."
The man in blue licked his lips and stroked his chin.
"Given your cruel and wicked methods, I couldn't just let you be... but you've never harmed the innocent."
Muttering to himself, he paced around the pavilion, arms still folded behind his back, shaking his head as if still deep in thought.
"It's obvious you'll one day surpass even the Extreme Demon Realm and become a pillar of Murim..."
But his words were cut short.
The space around him—about three hundred feet in radius—began to fade away.
Jeok Bung had unleashed his Limitless Power, erasing space itself in an instant while using the Sky Shattering Extreme Wheel.
Whoooosh—
Yet even as the space disintegrated, the man in blue continued strolling leisurely, hands still clasped behind his back.
His movements had reached such a state of natural perfection that no external force could penetrate his body.
Even as the ground beneath his feet vanished, his walking never ceased.
Walking—
An act that begins when a babe first stands on two feet and continues until an old man draws his last breath.
The most natural motion a human can perform.
And the man in blue had elevated this simple act of walking into—
An unstoppable cosmic law.
One that no power, no being, could hinder or obstruct.
"So you didn't just create a new martial art—you forged a new Law?" Jeok Bung murmured, eyes narrowing. "A stride fit for an emperor, one none may approach?"
"Law? What law?"
The man in blue offered a refined smile.
"When perfection merges with heaven, and effortlessness merges with the Dao... does not any act, at its zenith, become indistinguishable from the workings of nature itself?"
"The Way of Nature?"
Jeok Bung's expression shifted to one of astonishment.
To pursue and complete the Way of Nature was a path even grandmasters who had reached the Martial Extreme Realm hesitated to tread.
For a mere mortal to grasp the principles of nature was nigh impossible.
Even if one spent a lifetime refining it—
The odds of achieving completion were vanishingly slim.
Rumors said that Heonwon Dam-cheong, the Sword Sage, was attempting it—
But given his level of mastery, whether he could complete it even after decades remained uncertain.
And yet—this man, who didn't look a day over thirty, had done it?
"And you turned it into a footwork technique?"
Jeok Bung couldn't hide his bewilderment.
If he had truly completed the Way of Nature, he could have forged peerless sword or palm techniques instead.
Why waste it on something as mundane as a walking method?
"Wait—Imperial Step?"
But the man in blue, as if struck by Jeok Bung's absurd remark, stood dumbfounded for a moment before suddenly exclaiming in admiration.
"Elder Brother Jeok, your naming sense is truly remarkable!"
He clapped his hands in praise.
"Come to think of it, your Sky Shattering Extreme Wheel is an exceptionally stylish name for a martial technique too."
"..."
"Had I known, I would have shown myself to you first. Then I wouldn't have ended up with some bizarre title like 'First Secret' or whatnot."
Only then did Jeok Bung finally realize—
The identity of the white-robed man who had been chatting so casually before him.
"Jianghu's First Mystery."
Jeok Bung's eyes widened.
The enigmatic figure who had suddenly appeared in the Murim, moving through its shadows with unfathomable secrecy.
A man whose sect affiliation remained unknown, whose martial arts style defied identification, whose true age was impossible to discern.
No one knew his origins. No one could trace the source of his Internal Energy.
This was none other than Baekri Mu-ha—the Jianghu's First Mystery.