Bu Eunseol skidded to a halt as the dilapidated thatched hut broke the treeline, his eyes scanning the perimeter. The shadows that had dogged his steps through the forest had evaporated by the time he breached the boundary of the Wolf Fang Pavilion martial training hall.

Were they trainees from the Flower Rain Sword Sect?

Only the disciples gathered in the Flower Rain Sword Sect’s Intermediate Hall knew he had studied the Wolf Fang Pavilion’s Way of the Beast. Seeing him bolt toward this specific training ground must have unnerved his pursuers, prompting them to abandon the chase lest they blunder into a trap.

“As expected, he’s not here.”

The hut stood empty. Outside, the patch of earth where Sa Wu used to bury himself was packed flat. Judging by the undisturbed soil, the instructor had departed long ago.

First, I need to recover my strength.

Having spent the recent days training and navigating the island without a moment’s respite, fatigue clung to his bones. Bu Eunseol stared continuously at the ground where Sa Wu had once been embedded.

“What’s this?”

Brushing away the topsoil, he uncovered a piece of cloth masked by dirt. Thump, thump. Lifting the fabric revealed a cavity hollowed out of the earth, wide enough to accommodate a man comfortably. Sa Wu, a master of earth-burrowing techniques, had created a hidden shelter.

Could it be… for me?

Bu Eunseol’s eyes wavered like ripples on a disturbed pond. He was the only one who had come to Hell Island specifically seeking the arts of the Wolf Fang Pavilion. Could Sa Wu, who had seemed so burdened by the very act of teaching, have shown such foresight?

Slide.

He lowered himself into the subterranean space. It was deep and oblong, reminiscent of a grave awaiting its coffin.

“Mmm.”

Lying within the embrace of the earth, an unprecedented sense of comfort and security washed over him.

…!?

Just as he closed his eyes, surrendering to the soothing darkness, Bu Eunseol’s eyelids snapped open.

“My senses…”

The underground isolation did not dull his perception; it amplified the Way of the Beast. The scuff of a boot against gravel, the heavy thud of footsteps executing a sword form—vibrations transmitted through the soil delivered vivid intelligence about his surroundings, painting a picture clearer than sight.

He didn’t just make a hiding spot; he was trying to teach me an application of the Way of the Beast.

The Way of the Beast was a realm of hyper-senses capable of reading the flow of the air itself. This mysterious esoteric art utilized the earth as a conductive medium to extend that range.

Thrum.

A vibration shook the walls of his earthen cocoon. Someone dozens of jang away had struck a large boulder. Bu Eunseol’s heart leaped. Impact waves expanded the reach of his hyper-senses.

“I see.”

Enlightenment dawned, brightening his mind’s eye. The Way of the Beast could utilize not only the earth but all surrounding matter to broadcast sensory data.

Thump. Crash.

The vibrations continued, allowing Bu Eunseol to map the situation within a thirty-jang radius. As his mastery deepened, this sphere of influence would surely expand.

“However…”

As he monitored the tremors, his eyelids grew heavy. Processing the constant stream of seismic data drained his stamina rapidly; fatigue washed over him like a thick, suffocating fog.

It has clear drawbacks. Maintaining this state consumes physical and mental energy at an alarming rate.

“Mm.”

Slowly reining in his heightened senses, Bu Eunseol finally closed his eyes. If he left this sanctuary now, there was no telling when he might find another chance to rest.

***

How much time had passed?

Sssss.

Bu Eunseol pushed aside the soil and slowly emerged from the ground.

“Hoo.”

Standing tall, he gazed at the distant sky, his eyes flashing with renewed sharpness. The sleep deep within the earth had fully restored his vitality.

“I always thought of it as a resting place for the dead… but now, the earth has become the safest sanctuary for the living.”

For a practitioner of the Way of the Beast, the deep earth was both a sensory amplifier and a womb where a weary body could rapidly recuperate.

Flap, flap.

A sound like laundry snapping in a gale reached his ears—the signature of someone executing a peak-level lightness art. Eyes narrowing, Bu Eunseol gripped the hilt of his iron sword.

This is a perfect opportunity to gauge the skill level of the third trial participants.

Judging by the acoustics and presence, there was only one opponent. Furthermore, this was the familiar terrain of the Wolf Fang Pavilion—an ideal killing ground.

Hm.

The figure rushing toward him, kicking up a storm of leaves, was a striking youth. Even from a distance, his handsome features were unmistakable.

“Ah!”

Spotting Bu Eunseol, the youth did not draw a weapon. Instead, his face crumpled in relief.

“Help me!”

Drip.

Blood flowed from a gash on the youth’s thigh, visible through his torn uniform. Bu Eunseol simply stood his ground, his gaze indifferent.

The youth pointed frantically behind him. “There’s a whole group chasing me! They’re trying to kill me!”

Bu Eunseol’s eyes flickered. A group. A one-versus-many fight.

After a moment of calculation, Bu Eunseol shook his head. He knew neither the skill level of the other participants nor the full extent of his own capabilities. It was too early to commit to a chaotic melee.

“This has nothing to do with me.”

Bu Eunseol turned to walk in the opposite direction. He had no intention of finishing off an injured straggler, but neither did he desire to inherit someone else’s death sentence.

“Wait!” The youth lunged forward, grabbing his sleeve. “Take me with you! Please!”

The youth’s sweat-drenched eyes pleaded desperately. With fine strands of hair plastered to his face, his appearance was so pure and beautiful he could have been mistaken for a maiden. Perhaps it was this captivating appearance that made Bu Eunseol pause. He abruptly stopped, staring arguably too long at the youth’s face, then drifting his gaze down to the stranger’s waist.

“Wh-why are you looking at me like that?”

After a silent scrutiny that lasted a heartbeat too long, Bu Eunseol turned back toward the hut and pulled away the cloth covering the hidden shelter.

“There was a place like this here!” Exclaiming in delight, the youth scrambled into the underground space. Bu Eunseol followed him down, pulling the dirt-covered cloth back into place. To the outside world, the two had vanished into thin air.

They’re coming.

Maximizing the Way of the Beast, Bu Eunseol’s pupils dilated. The scene above ground materialized in his mind through the soles of his feet and the walls of the pit.

Thump. Whoosh.

He felt the heavy vibrations of three people landing hard.

“Damn it! He definitely came this way!” one of the arrivals shouted, his voice muffled by the earth.

“Could he have already cleared the area?” asked another, followed by the sounds of them ransacking the hut’s surroundings.

“No way! He couldn’t have escaped that fast. He must be hiding somewhere around here!”

“That little bastard! I’ll definitely kill him!”

Whoosh.

Executing their lightness art again, the pursuers departed the training hall.

“…”

Once their presence completely faded from his seismic sense, Bu Eunseol pushed aside the cloth and climbed out.

“Hoo.”

Emerging into the sunlight, the youth let out a long sigh and bowed his head toward Bu Eunseol. “Thank you so much. You saved my life.” When the youth smiled, it felt as if the gloom of the forest lifted. “How on earth did you prepare such a hiding spot? Don’t tell me you trained at the Wolf Fang Pavilion?”

When Bu Eunseol remained silent, the youth scratched his head sheepishly. “My apologies. Asking unnecessary questions… Ah, my name is Geum Cheol-yeong, from the Blood Sect.”

The youth, Geum Cheol-yeong, whose smile was as radiant as the morning sun, adopted a gloomy expression. “As soon as the third trial started, I fled into the forest… but that group suddenly attacked me.”

Geum Cheol-yeong possessed not only handsome features but a voice as clear and bright as a songbird’s.

“I didn’t want to fight, so I ran away… but they chased me relentlessly, as if I were their mortal enemy.” Sighing deeply, Geum Cheol-yeong lowered his head. “If I had known the third trial would be like this, I never would have come here.”

He chattered on ceaselessly. Bu Eunseol remained utterly impassive, like a physician listening to a patient list irrelevant symptoms.

“Well, I suppose the fewer people there are… the higher the chances of becoming a candidate for the Ten Demonic Successors.”

As Geum Cheol-yeong’s long-winded monologue showed no sign of abating, Bu Eunseol finally spoke.

“So…” Pausing briefly, he offered an uncharacteristic, chilling smile. “How many have you killed?”

“Pardon?”

As Geum Cheol-yeong tilted his head in confusion, Bu Eunseol pointed toward his waist.

“How many have you killed with the hidden weapon concealed there?”

Hiss!

A faint sound, barely audible, sheared through the air. Simultaneously, hundreds of needles rained toward Bu Eunseol’s chest like a torrential downpour of steel.

“What?!”

Geum Cheol-yeong, having fired the hidden mechanism at his waist, cried out in disbelief. Bu Eunseol had already shifted to the left, a ghost slipping through the raindrops. It was as if he had never been standing there in the first place.

“You…”

Geum Cheol-yeong, who had attempted a surprise attack with the cruelest of weapons, couldn’t hide his astonishment. Bu Eunseol’s evasion was too perfect; he had predicted the attack before the trigger was even pulled.

“Don’t make me laugh!”

Geum Cheol-yeong threw his body backward, hands flying to his waist to reload.

Ziiiing!

Just as a swarm of black needles shot out like hornets to envelop Bu Eunseol—

Shwing.

—the sound of an iron sword being drawn echoed like the tolling bell of Death.

Slash!

The sharp tip violently cut the air, thrusting simultaneously toward Geum Cheol-yeong’s neck and chest.

“Kkht!”

Geum Cheol-yeong was still a martial talent trained in the hellish halls of the island. Faced with the unexpectedly fast sword, he evaded with the agility of a tiger.

Clang!

In that instant, Bu Eunseol’s technique transformed in mid-air. The horizontal blade spun like a whirlwind, sweeping down with terrifying force toward the empty space where Geum Cheol-yeong had just dodged.

Swish-swish-swish!

Unable to completely evade the fiercely rotating blade, Geum Cheol-yeong frantically drew a sharp dagger.

Clang-clang! Taaang!

The dagger and the old iron sword clashed rapidly, sparks flying. Geum Cheol-yeong swung his weapon with desperate strength, but he couldn’t predict the trajectory of the pouring iron rain.

Clack.

As abruptly as it began, the fierce exchange ended. Bu Eunseol sheathed his iron sword.

Geum Cheol-yeong, holding his dagger in a reverse grip, stood frozen in a defensive posture.

“…How did you know?” His previously bright eyes narrowed into viperous slits. “Until now, no one had ever detected this Yin Execution Springing Needle.”

“Wearing a mechanism near the waist stiffens the spine’s movement,” Bu Eunseol replied flatly. “It disrupts the natural gait.”

“Were you trained as a physician?”

Shaking his head, Bu Eunseol’s voice remained dry. “I helped send the dead peacefully on their way.”

“So… you did.”

Gack.

Muttering lowly, Geum Cheol-yeong coughed up a mouthful of blood. A thin red line appeared on his neck, slowly widening.

“If I were as strong as you… I wouldn’t have needed to secretly bring a hidden weapon like this.”

Weak in true martial arts, he hadn’t been able to advance beyond the Intermediate Hall in any discipline. Ultimately, he had smuggled the Yin Execution Springing Needle, a mechanism strictly forbidden by his sect.

“Not at all,” Bu Eunseol stated coolly, looking down at the dying youth. “It is because you brought such a hidden weapon that you could not become strong.”

“Because I brought a hidden weapon… I couldn’t become strong?”

Understanding dawned in Geum Cheol-yeong’s fading eyes as he witnessed Bu Eunseol’s terrifying, burning obsession. He slowly nodded.

“Is that so? Because I brought a weapon capable of killing even peak masters… because I possessed a tool that could dispose of others so easily…” A hollow smile touched his blood-stained lips. “I neglected my training…”

Muttering regretfully, Geum Cheol-yeong swayed.

Thump.

He collapsed like a felled log and breathed his last.

Whoosh!

Just then, the sound of another group moving toward their location reached Bu Eunseol’s ears.

Lingering in one place for too long is dangerous.

Eyes flashing with a blood-red light, Bu Eunseol quickly departed Sa Wu’s martial training hall. Solely for the sake of survival, for the sake of becoming one of the Ten Demonic Successors… the battle of Hell Island, where one had to kill or be killed, had truly begun.