The Dark Sword sang as it left the scabbard.
Bu Eunseol launched immediately into a devastating display of swordsmanship. Unlike his characteristic style, the strokes he poured forth were starkly simple and monotonous, yet executed with such blinding velocity that the assassins found absolutely no reprieve. Those caught within the sword’s lethal momentum toppled like timber, fountains of blood erupting violently from severed throats.
The remaining assassins widened the perimeter, showering Bu Eunseol with a second volley of hidden weapons.
But this time, the projectiles detonated mid-air before they could even touch his skin, birthing a cloud of thick white smoke. The acrid, heavy odor suggested the presence of Qi-Dispersing Powder—a poison designed to scatter internal energy—laced within the airborne cloud. As the noxious smoke spread, it began to cloak even the figures of the assassins, threatening to obscure the battlefield entirely.
Bu Eunseol channeled his internal energy, causing a majestic flow of qi to radiate outward from the Dark Sword. He prepared to unleash the Seventh Form of the Supreme Heavenly Flow: Body Reduced to Ashes, intending to incinerate the toxic miasma with concentrated thermal energy.
No, I can’t.
A searing thought flashed through his mind in that split second.
They have already scoured every aspect of my being.
Their tactics—the distant hidden weapon attack followed by suicidal close-quarters engagement—were strategies devised with his Supreme Heavenly Flow firmly in their calculation. If so, it was impossible for them to be ignorant of Body Reduced to Ashes, the very technique that neutralized poisons through heat.
Bu Eunseol instantly retreated twenty jang, unleashing a powerful burst of thermal qi in the form of a finger blast.
The explosive force ignited the scattered smoke, transforming the cloud into a raging inferno. Flames clumped together like melting wax, spreading rapidly with heat intense enough to liquefy cast iron. Even after hitting the ground, the fires continued to burn fiercely; the fog had been laced not only with the energy-dispersing powder but also with a specially manufactured incendiary agent.
As I feared.
Had he not retreated, executing the technique up close to consume the poisonous mist, he would have been caught in the blast radius and grievously injured.
They’ve grasped even the minutiae of the Supreme Heavenly Flow.
Bu Eunseol had used Body Reduced to Ashes only once during the journey to claim his successor status, and subsequently to confront the experts of the Infernal Blood Fortress. For his enemies to possess this knowledge was proof that they had been investigating him meticulously for a long time.
As the smoke finally dissipated, the remaining assassins strode boldy through the gaps in the roaring flames, forming a renewed circle around him. There was no trace of dread or hesitation in their eyes, only a singular, fierce will to kill so long as life remained.
A hundred investigations are useless.
A keen, cold light radiated from Bu Eunseol’s gaze as he surveyed the menacing figures closing in. Information gleaned from his past held no weight now. Every single day, without pause or reprieve, he was advancing—continuously ascending.
Bu Eunseol suddenly sheathed the Dark Sword and surged his internal energy to its absolute limit.
A tempest of sharp qi began to spiral around his body as a cutting aura pulsed from his limbs. He had invoked the Martial Emperor’s absolute secret art: the Qi of Thirteen Provocations. When pushed to the extreme, this technique channeled thirteen individual streams of qi force into a single, overwhelming surge.
Bu Eunseol’s body became a streak of light flashing past the assassins. With every blur of motion, blood erupted, and men fell in heaps like straw tossed in a gale.
Thunderous rumbling echoed across the darkened sky, a testament to the savagery of the momentum unleashed by Bu Eunseol. The assassins resisted violently, deploying hidden weapons and fire-based attacks to no avail. The Qi of Thirteen Provocations appeared to be a barrage of multiple techniques, but in reality, it was a unified art where offense and defense coalesced into a single mass. The moment the piercing qi energy swept past, the assassins’ bodies were shredded as though struck by invisible swords; protected by that very aura, not a single attack could reach Bu Eunseol’s skin.
The ground was soon carpeted with corpses, littering the space like fallen autumn leaves.
The eyes of the remaining assassins, previously so cold and devoid of emotion, finally began to flicker with the ripple of confusion. They had investigated Bu Eunseol thoroughly, but how could they have known?
They could not have known that his current realm of martial arts had long since surpassed the level of those merely called prodigies, honed as it was by cultivating even while eating and sleeping. Nor could they have known that, in that brief time, he had inherited the true legacy of the Martial Emperor, the most powerful master of the Orthodox Faction from four centuries prior.
As the qi force pouring from Bu Eunseol’s body crystallized into three separate bolts of lightning, the assassins continued to fall helplessly. Now, fewer than ten remained of the initial hundred.
“Hah… hah…”
Bu Eunseol sucked in rough, deep breaths. While the Qi of Thirteen Provocations possessed unimaginable power, fusing many orthodox arts into a single, intricate structure exacted an extreme toll on his spiritual and internal energy.
Several assassins stepped forward, drawing their weapons.
The blades they revealed were Grotesque Swords, anomalous weapons featuring four cutting edges instead of two. To counter the Qi of Thirteen Provocations, they launched a series of bizarre and unique sword forms.
Their synchronized swordplay, reminiscent of a coordinated combination technique, proved unexpectedly formidable. They not only stabbed into his defensive openings with swift, concise movements but also created a broad screen of sword energy to intercept his surging force. Furthermore, they rained down strange killing strikes randomly, effectively sealing off Bu Eunseol’s lightning-fast movements.
Orthodox martial arts?
Bu Eunseol could not suppress his surprise as he observed the techniques brushing past him.
Their swordplay involved slashes and thrusts that traversed vertically and horizontally, frequently incorporating twisting and gouging motions. It appeared, at a glance, to be the cruel sword art of the Demonic or Unorthodox Paths. But this was merely camouflage. The true roots of their swordplay lay closer to the genuine martial arts of the Orthodox Faction.
If I hadn’t devoured the secret manuals of the Orthodox Faction within the Martial Emperor’s Secret Vault, I never would have been able to penetrate their origins.
The Martial Emperor had based the Qi of Thirteen Provocations upon the foundational tenets of Orthodox martial arts. Having mastered that ultimate essence, Bu Eunseol could instantly discern the intrinsic properties of the Orthodox forms.
As if to confirm his hypothesis, the sword strikes, previously pouring down like a thunderbolt, suddenly curved greatly, stabbing toward Bu Eunseol’s vital spots. If these were true Demonic or Unorthodox arts, they would have attacked the dead points immediately without drawing such a wide trajectory. The assassins were utilizing their grotesque, four-edged swords to conceal the natural path of Orthodox martial arts.
The power must have fallen significantly since they deviated from the true sword path.
The assassins had contorted the Orthodox sword logic into the treacherous form of an Unorthodox style. By compromising the Sword Intent, they were unable to unleash its proper might.
Having grasped all their weaknesses, Bu Eunseol drew the Dark Sword once more. He abruptly unfurled his technique, aiming rapidly toward the sky.
Hundreds of threads of sword energy shot into the dark heavens, suddenly splitting left and right like a living entity. Simultaneously, they began to descend toward the masked figures standing on the ground like two rushing currents of water.
He had executed the Fourth Form of the Supreme Heavenly Flow: Caged Birds Yearning for Clouds—a technique allowing the free manipulation of unleashed sword energy.
The assassins desperately swung their swords with all their power, but they could not repel the concentrated sword qi which Bu Eunseol had unleashed after analyzing every single flaw in their technique. The sharp energies swept rapidly across their bodies like living flood dragons.
Without a single error in their final descent, the assassins collapsed to the floor simultaneously.
Bu Eunseol slowly approached the fallen figures and ripped off their masks. His eyes widened slightly.
“……!”
The skin had been entirely flayed from the assassins’ faces, leaving behind a horrific, matted mess of crimson blood and pus. They had peeled away their own facial skin to conceal their identities. An ordinary Murim warrior would have recoiled at the sight of such cruelty and hideousness, but Bu Eunseol remained dispassionate as he observed their bodies.
They’ve been consuming a specific poison for a long time.
The assassins’ teeth were severely corroded, like rusted iron, a clear sign of long-term poison ingestion. Crouching down, he scrutinized their clothes, weapons, and shoes in minute detail, but there were no clues on any object that could lead to their identities.
“So, Evil Fragrance has a connection to the Orthodox Faction…”
His efforts were not entirely without gain. All the assassins had used a modified martial art rooted in the Orthodox lineage. This strongly indicated that Evil Fragrance’s connection lay closer to the Orthodox Faction than to the Demonic Path.
“I need to go higher.”
At his current status, he couldn’t even scour all the Demonic sects, much less investigate the sprawling Orthodox Faction. A blood-red light flashed in Bu Eunseol’s eyes. His destiny, ultimately, was to ascend.
***
Bu Eunseol returned to the Demonic Palace.
Catching Evil Fragrance’s trail immediately was impossible. Moreover, if they were truly linked to the Orthodox Faction, he had to avoid any rash action. He was, after all, merely a candidate for the successor of the Demonic Palace. Though it was called the sacred ground of Ten Thousand Demons, it was not a place that offered blind, unwavering support to a mere candidate.
The first thing is to conceal my tracks.
His immediate course of action was to sow confusion so that no intelligence organization could easily locate his whereabouts. He was now a figure capable of influencing the entire political landscape of the Murim; naturally, many intelligence groups would be keenly focused on his actions.
Using the formidable network of the Momentless Fleet, he began constantly feeding false information into the Murim, effectively cloaking his movements.
Knock, knock.
A rap came at the door of his office.
“Squad Captain. It’s Jo Nam-cheon.”
“Come in.”
The sliding door opened, and Jo Nam-cheon strode in. Due to his unkempt facial hair, bristly beard, and deep wrinkles, he appeared to be in his forties, though in reality he was still shy of thirty.
“What is the matter?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“Well, about that,” Jo Nam-cheon said, scratching his head nervously as he rummaged through his robes. “I actually used to be part of the Twelve Domains in the past.”
A sharp glint of curiosity shone in Bu Eunseol’s eyes. Jo Nam-cheon, who always projected an easy-going demeanor, was a former underworld fixer who handled the grimy affairs of the commercial world?
“Go on.”
“This arrived for you, Squad Captain.”
Jo Nam-cheon carefully drew a folded dispatch from his bosom and set it down on the table.
“Someone sent a letter to you through the Twelve Domains’ information network.”
“A letter?”
“That’s right. And furthermore, the sender is the… Grand Chieftain of the Twelve Domains.”
“Grand Chieftain?”
The Twelve Domains traditionally operated without a single leader, functioning more like decentralized cells with disorganized command structures. Why suddenly a Grand Chieftain?
“Apparently, the system was recently reorganized, and they installed a central leader,” Jo Nam-cheon explained. “Since they primarily deal with the underworld, they call the supreme leader who oversees the entire Twelve Domains the ‘Grand Chieftain.'”
Jo Nam-cheon looked intently at the dispatch on the table.
“And seeing as they went to the trouble of delivering it precisely to you through me, I don’t think this is a prank.”
Bu Eunseol picked up the dispatch. Just then, a commotion erupted outside; the squad members seemed to have returned to the Deathly Shadow Pavilion after their training.
The open door was suddenly filled by a fierce-looking man who rushed in, panic etched across his features. It was Won Se-mun.
“Captain!”
“Won Se-mun. Why the theatrics again?” Jo Nam-cheon scolded him. “Did you have another crazy dream and run straight to the Squad Captain?”
“Shut up!”
Won Se-mun glared at Jo Nam-cheon, then turned urgently to Bu Eunseol.
“A catastrophe has occurred, Squad Captain!”
“What is it?”
Won Se-mun pursed his lips and spoke clearly. “The successor of the Extreme Assassination Pavilion has been assassinated.”
Bu Eunseol doubted his own ears for a moment.
“What did you say?”
“Yong Jeok-bi, the successor of the Extreme Assassination Pavilion. He has been murdered.”
Silence settled over the office.
Yong Jeok-bi, the chosen prodigy of a great assassination sect. Why had he died so suddenly?
“The successor was reportedly on a mission to strike the Twelve Domains by himself,” Won Se-mun continued, looking at Bu Eunseol. “But… it seems he was instead taken out by them. What’s more, the Twelve Domains used an Escort Agency to send Yong Jeok-bi’s severed head back to the Extreme Assassination Pavilion. The main hall is in an absolute uproar because of it.”
The Twelve Domains?
Bu Eunseol and Jo Nam-cheon exchanged quick, sharp glances. Then, as if on cue, they looked down at the envelope resting on the table.
Bu Eunseol tore the envelope open yet found nothing inside.
“Huh?”
Jo Nam-cheon stared at the empty dispatch with a bewildered expression.
“That’s strange. This clearly has the Grand Chieftain’s seal stamped on it.”
Won Se-mun asked the flustered Jo Nam-cheon, “Grand Chieftain? Who is that?”
“Well, that…”
Just as Jo Nam-cheon began explaining the background to Won Se-mun, a powerful flash of insight struck Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
“……!”
A subtle, almost imperceptible sensation had traveled to the tips of his fingers as they gripped the envelope. It was a minute trace that only Bu Eunseol, having mastered the Way of the Beast, could possibly perceive.
He quickly tore away the outer surface of the paper. Concealed within the layers of the dispatch lay a single short needle, thinner than a strand of hair. The needle possessed great elasticity, regaining its shape even after being forcefully bent, and its surface was covered in microscopic barbs.
Heat capable of melting steel radiated from Bu Eunseol’s eyes as his heart began to pound uncontrollably in his chest.
This distinct short needle, so rarely glimpsed in the Murim. Was this not the very hidden weapon of Evil Fragrance?