Whirl.
Hesitation flickered in the eyes of the boys wielding the White Demon Whips.
The rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps suggested a group of at least ten heading their way. If they continued their engagement with Bu Eunseol here, they risked becoming prey themselves.
Rustle. Thump.
The crisp sounds of bodies cutting through air and boots striking earth grew steadily louder.
“You’re lucky today, you bastard!”
Having quickly weighed the odds, the disciples of the White Demon Monastery broke formation.
“Let’s go!”
With a sharp command, they coiled their whips and vanished into the dense foliage, employing a wind-like Lightness Art.
Swoosh.
Bu Eunseol retrieved the iron sword he had dropped, his impassive gaze tracking the direction of their retreat.
“They haven’t properly mastered the White Demon Whip.”
While trapped within their Emerald Luminous Golden Serpent Formation, Bu Eunseol had deliberately refrained from counterattacking. He had focused solely on survival, using the opportunity to dissect the mechanics of the White Demon Monastery’s whip techniques, a style reputed to be unparalleled in the Murim.
“Should I have just killed them?”
A direct hit from a White Demon Whip could shred not just flesh but muscle tissue to ribbons. A few solid strikes would have immobilized most martial artists, yet Bu Eunseol, aided by the heightened senses of the Way of the Beast, had anticipated every trajectory, avoiding critical damage.
“No. There will be another chance soon enough.”
Bu Eunseol was certain of it. Believing him to be an easy target, they would undoubtedly track him down again. Preying on the weak while avoiding the strong was the fundamental law of survival in this slaughterhouse.
Thump-thump.
The rapid movement he had detected earlier was now dangerously close.
No need to overexert myself.
He had expended considerable stamina simply enduring the Emerald Luminous Golden Serpent Formation without retaliation. With so many participants still remaining, engaging in a bloody melee against a large group served no strategic purpose.
Fwoosh.
Bu Eunseol melted into the darkness of a dense thicket.
Thump. Rustle.
Moments later, a group of ten figures sped past the empty space where he had stood, their Lightness Art carrying them swiftly onward in pursuit of phantom prey.
“…”
Once the group vanished, Bu Eunseol emerged from the shadows, suddenly struck by a sharp, twisting pang in his stomach. Three days had passed since the third trial began. In that time, he had consumed nothing but clear water. This trial wouldn’t end in a day or two; without sustenance, his body would fail before his skills did.
I have to go there.
A specific location surfaced in his mind, and Bu Eunseol set off at a rapid pace.
Thump-thump.
Even as he ran, he paused periodically to strike a rock or press his ear to the ground. Running blindly to evade the “Killing Ghosts”—the other trainees—risked walking straight into an ambush. He continuously expanded the sensory field of his Way of the Beast to survey the vibrating earth.
Whoooosh.
A cool breeze brushed past his ear. Emerging from the forest, Bu Eunseol arrived at the silent grounds of the Flower Rain Sword Sect martial training hall.
Creeaak.
Pushing open the heavy door revealed the tripartite structure housing the martial training hall, practice grounds, and cultivation rooms. After verifying the hall was empty, Bu Eunseol walked without hesitation into the largest building. Passing under the plaque bearing the hall’s name, he entered a long, dim corridor lined with tightly packed doors. These were the individual cultivation rooms, cells provided for the trainees of the Flower Rain Sword Sect to practice their arts in solitude.
Clang.
Bu Eunseol forced open the metal door of the room situated in the furthest corner. He shoved aside a small table and pried up a loose wooden floorboard. Beneath it lay a hidden cache, filled to the brim with strips of dried meat.
Swoosh.
Retrieving a strip of jerky, Bu Eunseol began to chew slowly. While exploring the terrain of Hell Island days prior, he had hunted small animals and prepared this stockpile for exactly this kind of emergency.
Chew. Chew.
The meat was unseasoned and tough as leather, yet it was more than enough to quell the gnawing beast in his gut. With the focused reverence of a high monk chanting scriptures, Bu Eunseol chewed deliberately. Once he had eaten his fill, he leaned against the cold wall of the cultivation room and closed his eyes.
How much time passed?
“Hoo.”
Feeling his mind clear and vitality surge back into his weary limbs, Bu Eunseol slowly opened his eyes. Though he had lost a fair amount of blood, the wounds were superficial. A short period of rest was all he needed to recover his stamina.
The sun should be rising by now.
Rising slowly, he tucked several more pieces of jerky into his robes before exiting the room. Through a window, he saw the distant sky brightening with the pale gray of dawn. Life-giving light poured down onto the land, yet here on Hell Island, only a chilling, murderous air circulated.
“The end of this slaughter… is still far off.”
There was no guarantee that exactly ten participants would be chosen as the Ten Demonic Successors. Head Instructor Hyeok Ryeon-eung hadn’t specified how many needed to remain. He could demand they fight until only one survivor was left, or perhaps five.
Thump-thump.
Just then, the distinct vibration of feet pounding the earth reached Bu Eunseol’s ears.
Four individuals.
They were running at a consistent distance from each other, clearly a coordinated unit.
“It’s them.”
A faint, cold smirk touched Bu Eunseol’s lips. Even from the sound of footsteps alone, he recognized the rhythm. It was the White Demon Monastery group.
Swoosh.
Subconsciously, his hand drifted to the hilt of the black sword strapped to his back. It was remarkably light and served admirably as a secondary weapon. And now, Bu Eunseol intended to acquire another weapon to go with it.
***
High atop the stone mountain that commanded a view of the entire Hell Island, two figures stood side-by-side: a muscular old man with a solemn expression and a middle-aged scholar. They were Head Instructor Hyeok Ryeon-eung and the Hall Master of the Ten Thousand Knowledge Hall, Baek Jeon-cheon.
“What is the situation?”
At Hyeok Ryeon-eung’s query, Baek Jeon-cheon respectfully unfolded a parchment map detailing the island’s terrain. “Of the eighty-six initial trainees, forty-one currently survive.”
“Forty-one remaining after three full days…”
“Given the caliber of prodigies gathered, it seems they anticipated this outcome. Intense battles are rare; most are forming groups or establishing defensive positions.”
Hyeok Ryeon-eung nodded slowly, his expression unhurried. “I see.”
“Frankly, I fail to understand…” Baek Jeon-cheon’s gaze swept over the island below, his brow furrowing. “If the area had been restricted to the vicinity of this stone mountain from the start, wouldn’t this have been resolved much more quickly?”
“You mean, why not gather them all in one place and force a fight, instead of gradually restricting the area and prolonging the process?”
“Precisely.”
Hyeok Ryeon-eung turned his gaze away, looking out over the landscape of Hell Island. At first glance, it appeared peaceful, but scattered across the island, brutal life-and-death struggles were undoubtedly unfolding. He took a deep breath, imagining the scent of blood carried on the wind.
“Doing so would likely yield the same result as the second stage. Someone utterly lacking in proper martial skill might survive through sheer luck, just like that boy.”
“Bu Eunseol… are you referring to him?”
“Indeed. Thanks to him, we learned that chaotic brawls in confined spaces are insufficient for accurately assessing true ability.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung let out a low snort, his eyes narrowing. “This was the conclusion reached after lengthy deliberations with the Elders and the leadership of the Ten Demonic Sects.”
Recalling the discussions, Hyeok Ryeon-eung’s expression soured. “Rather than simply culling the numbers indiscriminately, it was decided that even if it takes more time, we must create a situation where they are forced to demonstrate all their capabilities—martial skill, wisdom, leadership, adaptability, and improvisation.”
“So that is what happened.” Baek Jeon-cheon nodded in understanding. Despite being the Hall Master of the Ten Thousand Knowledge Hall, he hadn’t been privy to the high-level meetings regarding the Ten Demonic Successors competition. Attendance was restricted to the Demonic Palace Master, the Elders, the sect leaders of the Ten Demonic Sects, and the Head Instructor.
“It seems only the truly capable ones remain now. It’s time to compel them to reveal their true strength.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung pointed to a specific area on the parchment map held by Baek Jeon-cheon. “First, restrict access to this area as well.”
The location he indicated was the vicinity surrounding the Flower Rain Sword Sect martial training hall.
***
Returning to the Flower Rain Sword Sect training hall, Bu Eunseol’s eyes held a predatory glint. Though untrained in formal concealment arts, his mastery of the Way of the Beast made him adept at suppressing his presence. Moving silently toward the cultivation rooms, he resembled a wolf closing in on unsuspecting sheep.
They followed the trail I left quite well.
Bu Eunseol had intentionally left drops of blood to make it easier for the White Demon Monastery boys to track him. As expected, they had followed the grisly breadcrumbs all the way to the hall.
“That bastard seems to have gone this way.”
Following the scattered bloodstains, the boys finally entered the narrow corridor leading to the cultivation rooms.
In that instant, Bu Eunseol detached himself from the shadows behind them. There was only one exit from the cultivation room area. By blocking the corridor, he had effectively trapped the four boys like rats in a sewer.
“Crazy bastard.”
However, instead of showing fear, the boys smirked at Bu Eunseol. “Did you really think luring us into a narrow passage would give you the advantage?”
Whirl.
With confident smiles, they unfurled their three-jang-long White Demon Whips.
“You die today!”
No further words were necessary. Only the brutal finality of clashing flesh and steel remained.
“Take this!”
With a thunderous roar, the four boys surrounded Bu Eunseol, their whips lashing out in unison.
Swish!
The four strands of the White Demon Whips blurred through the air, extending and retracting unpredictably. The terror of the White Demon Monastery’s art lay in its fluidity; the leather could change length at will, unleashing erratic techniques that even the wielder couldn’t fully predict.
Whizz! Crack!
Moving like living serpents, the whips danced through the stale air of the corridor, striking toward Bu Eunseol’s vital points from all angles.
“What?”
But Bu Eunseol didn’t move from his spot. Or rather, he appeared not to move, yet somehow evaded every single strike with phantom-like precision.
The Way of the Beast.
The profound capabilities of this mysterious esoteric art were being displayed without reservation.
Shwing!
Narrowly avoiding a lash by a hair’s breadth, Bu Eunseol finally drew his sword.
“Aaargh!”
A heart-wrenching scream erupted as blood fountained from the neck of one of the whip-wielding boys.
“What kind of sword art is that?!”
Bu Eunseol had executed the second form of the Blazing Shower, Thunder-Cleaving Sword—Ascending Heaven Entering Earth. But channeled through the heightened senses of the Way of the Beast and infused with killing intent, it transformed into a brutally sharp and fast execution.
Flash!
With another dazzling glint, Bu Eunseol’s sword drew blood again.
“Keuk!”
Another cry of pain.
This time, the blade struck the elbow joint of a boy moving in sync with the whip’s speed—the one vulnerable point he hadn’t been able to protect with the coiled leather.
Fwoosh!
The fast sword strike flowed seamlessly into a linked form. The black sword that had pierced the elbow now sliced across the boy’s carotid artery.
Spurt!
As another fountain of blood sprayed the walls—
“You bastard!”
The remaining two boys, enraged, shortened their whips drastically to press the attack. However, unable to utilize the wide-ranging Emerald Luminous Golden Serpent Formation in the confined space, the power of their weapons was significantly neutered. Individually, their skills were mediocre at best.
“Ugh!”
Another scream, and the third whip user collapsed. No matter how frantically they swung their whips, they couldn’t land a blow on Bu Eunseol, who seemed to predict the trajectory and angle of every strike before it was even launched.
This bastard… he lured us here on purpose!
Only then did the last boy understand. They hadn’t cornered Bu Eunseol; he had deliberately herded them into his slaughterhouse. He had been concealing his true strength, merely observing their whip techniques to ensure a perfect kill.
“Get out of the way!”
He swung his whip desperately, but couldn’t even touch the fringe of Bu Eunseol’s clothes blocking the exit.
Ssst!
Suddenly, a peculiar hiss cut through the air as something shot rapidly toward Bu Eunseol’s flank.
Whirl!
Bu Eunseol spun his body swiftly. A white-colored White Demon Whip flashed past the empty space where his shoulder had been a split second before.
Ssst!
In that instant, the whip that had just missed him abruptly changed direction mid-air, lashing back toward Bu Eunseol’s airborne form with the speed of a striking cobra.
Twang!
Spinning, Bu Eunseol drew the iron sword he’d retrieved earlier, deflecting the whip with a jarring impact. However, caught off-balance in mid-air, the force sent him skidding down the corridor.
“Now!”
Seizing the opportunity, the two remaining boys dashed toward the exit.
“Hmph.”
Just then, a massive shadow loomed, blocking their path.
“You two. What do you think you’re doing?”
Blocking the light was a boy of immense size, with White Demon Whips coiled around his waist and arms like deadly vines.