Deathly Shadow Pavilion, Bu Eunseol’s Private Office.
Bu Eunseol watched from behind his desk as Mo Gwang, the Gate Guardian, ushered the guest inside.
Years in the Gangho had evidently tempered Yu Hwa-ryeong; his internal energy had advanced by leaps and bounds, yet a pallid complexion and eyes shadowed by deep-seated anxiety betrayed a troubled state.
“Welcome.”
Bu Eunseol spoke first, his voice carrying a warmth rarely heard within these cold stone walls. “Have you been well?”
The familiarity was genuine. Yu Hwa-ryeong was the man who had approached him without hesitation after the Elite Martial Arts Tournament, guiding him to the Thousand Sword Society. That singular act of kindness had allowed Bu Eunseol to master the Mastery Radiance Sword Control, a technique that had become his salvation in countless life-or-death crises. For that reason alone, Yu Hwa-ryeong deserved such warmth.
“Hah…”
Yu Hwa-ryeong could not mask his astonishment. His eyes widened, taking in the presence of the young man before him. “Is it really you? Are you the same man who traveled through Sichuan with me?”
He swallowed a gasp, shaking his head in disbelief. “I heard rumors through the Society’s intelligence network that you were shaking the very foundations of the Murim, but I never imagined your growth would be this prodigious.”
While Bu Eunseol’s physical features remained unchanged since their days in Sichuan, the aura radiating from his being existed on a dimension entirely separate from the past. Yu Hwa-ryeong inhaled sharply, struck by the realization that Bu Eunseol’s martial cultivation had progressed at a speed defying the limits of human potential.
“And to think you are now the Captain of the Deathly Shadow Squad of the Demonic Palace…”
As he took in Bu Eunseol’s official Squad Captain robes, Yu Hwa-ryeong suddenly gasped, his face draining of color. “Forgive me. I have committed a grave discourtesy.”
Realizing his slip, he hastily clasped his hands together. “Old memories overtook my senses, and I acted presumptuously.”
A First-Grade Combat Squad Captain of the Demonic Palace held a status that transcended generational hierarchy, granting them the authority to converse as equals with the leaders of any major sect. As the flustered Yu Hwa-ryeong bowed his head, Bu Eunseol offered a gentle smile.
“It is fine. Please, speak comfortably.”
“How could I dare…”
“I have not yet fulfilled my promise to the Thousand Sword Society.”
Bu Eunseol met Yu Hwa-ryeong’s gaze with clear, unwavering eyes. “Until that day comes, whenever I stand before the Thousand Sword Society, I am merely Bu Eunseol, a disciple of the Wolf Fang Pavilion.”
Until I keep my promise, no matter my rank, I am but a single disciple.
That was the message Bu Eunseol conveyed, and its weight was not lost on his guest.
“I see. You haven’t changed at all.” Visibly moved, Yu Hwa-ryeong’s shoulders trembled. “Just like when we traveled through Sichuan together.”
The Thousand Sword Society had entrusted Bu Eunseol with the Mastery Radiance Sword Control in exchange for a single promise: to kill one specific person. Now, Bu Eunseol was the orthodox successor of the Wolf Fang Pavilion and a high-ranking Squad Captain of the Demonic Palace. Even the Thousand Sword Society, whose wealth and influence rivaled the Nine Great Sects and One Faction, could not easily coerce him now. Yet Bu Eunseol had not forgotten, demonstrating a resolve to faithfully honor that contract.
“My late Master spoke of this as well.” Taking a steadying breath, Yu Hwa-ryeong forced his voice to remain calm. “He said you were a man who would keep his word even if the sky collapsed. That is why he held nothing back in passing down the Society’s secret arts to you.”
“Late Master?” Bu Eunseol frowned, confusion clouding his brow. “Are you saying the Seventh Seat has passed away?”
“He has.” Yu Hwa-ryeong bit his lip, forcing the words out as if coughing up blood. “By the hand of the very man who destroyed our Society.”
Bu Eunseol stared blankly.
The man who had slaughtered the Ten Seats of the Thousand Sword Society and fled, despite receiving the grace of learning the essence of their swordsmanship. The rare Sword Demon whom Seok Song and Woo Hak had described as a devil. The sworn enemy of the Thousand Sword Society.
Had they finally found him?
“You found him?”
“We did.”
A light of desperate agony flickered in Yu Hwa-ryeong’s eyes, and only then did Bu Eunseol understand the source of the dark complexion the man had worn since his arrival.
“I see.”
“Can you kill him for us?”
Bu Eunseol did not answer immediately.
He had no intention of breaking his promise. However, in a month, he was scheduled to lead a mission under the Blood Mist Squad to annihilate the Dark Union. Furthermore, he had resolved to track down the forces that had burned the Seong Clan Ironworks and manipulated Seok Woo-haeng from the shadows.
Is this, too, fate?
Thinking conversely, he still had a month. Hunting the shadowy forces behind Seok Woo-haeng could wait. Yu Hwa-ryeong’s arrival felt like destiny knocking at his door.
In the end, perhaps it was my fate never to reach the Thousand Sword Society.
The words of the Projectile King, Bukgung Ryeong, whom he had met in the Martial Emperor’s Secret Vault, flashed through his mind.
“Is this matter related to the Projectile King?”
Yu Hwa-ryeong looked surprised. “How do you know that? Ah, surely…”
He recalled the old rumor that Bu Eunseol, the successor of the Demonic Palace, had died clashing with the Projectile King.
“Did you hear it directly from him?”
Bu Eunseol shook his head. “Not exactly. He merely mentioned he had business at the Thousand Sword Society but missed his timing and could not go.”
“I see…” Yu Hwa-ryeong spoke with deep regret. “He had a close friendship with the Second Seat. He promised to help with this matter, but in the end, he never appeared.”
Bu Eunseol finally pieced the timeline together. Bukgung Ryeong had failed to keep his promise to Seok Song because he had been trapped in the Treasury while chasing Bu Eunseol.
It truly seems like fate.
Nodding, Bu Eunseol asked calmly, “Which sect does this man belong to?”
Back then, the reason other geniuses refused the offer to learn the Mastery Radiance Sword Control—leaving only Bu Eunseol to accept—was simple. They did not know the enemy’s identity. If the target turned out to be a kinsman, a friend, or an elder of their own sect, the oath would be impossible to keep. One could not swear blindly.
“Is he from the Demonic Path?”
At Bu Eunseol’s question, Yu Hwa-ryeong shook his head. “No.”
“Then he must be from the Orthodox Factions.”
Bu Eunseol sighed lightly, but Yu Hwa-ryeong shook his head again. “He does not belong to any sect in the Murim.”
“What does that mean?”
When Bu Eunseol pressed for an answer, Yu Hwa-ryeong’s expression turned grave. “He is a man of the government.”
Bu Eunseol could not hide his shock. The terrifying master who had single-handedly slaughtered the Ten Seats was not a martial artist of the Gangho, but a bureaucrat?
Then…
A strange intuition struck Bu Eunseol. Perhaps this enemy of the Thousand Sword Society was connected to the official who had burned the Seong Clan Ironworks.
“Very well.” Bu Eunseol nodded without a second thought. “Let us depart immediately.”
***
A carriage raced along the official road, leaving the Demonic Palace far behind.
Inside sat Bu Eunseol and Yu Hwa-ryeong. Their destination was a small village in the Lu Prefecture of Sichuan, for it was there that the man who brutally murdered the Society Leader and the Ten Seats was said to be hiding.
Tianzhu Flexibility Art…
Deep in thought, Bu Eunseol fixed his gaze on the passing scenery.
It was a foreign art, notoriously difficult to master without a naturally gifted skeletal structure, and impossible to perfect unless trained from early childhood. According to Seok Song and Woo Hak, the killer had mastered this yoga-like art, allowing him to unleash sword techniques without physical limitations on his movements. For this reason, almost no one in the Murim practiced the Tianzhu Flexibility Art. Who would cast aside countless superior martial arts to waste time on a contortionist technique they might never master?
“But how did you know he was in that village?”
“My Master told me that wherever that man appears, a plague always follows.” Yu Hwa-ryeong’s eyes deepened as he recalled the past. “Because of that, our Society has been searching for villages suffering from epidemics. We stumbled upon a village where an outbreak had just begun, and my late Master, along with Martial Uncle Seok, headed there.”
“Did the Second Seat go with him?”
“Yes. And I accompanied them on that journey as well.” His expression twisted in pain. “Perhaps they deemed it too dangerous. While I was asleep at the inn, the two of them slipped out to investigate the village. That is when they encountered him.”
Blue flames seemed to ignite in Yu Hwa-ryeong’s eyes. “But they were no match for that devil. In the end, Martial Uncle sacrificed his life to block him, allowing my Master to barely escape back to the inn where I was staying.”
He clenched his fists, bowing his head. “But Master had already suffered fatal wounds… He left me his final will and breathed his last.”
Glaring wide-eyed, he spoke as if vomiting blood. “He said the man is a government official, and that he would soon appear in another village stricken by plague.”
“That is hardly enough of a clue.” Bu Eunseol, who had been listening silently, furrowed his brow. “An official and a village with a plague. It would be difficult to identify a specific individual with only those two points, wouldn’t it?”
“Do not worry. Martial Uncle Seok left a trace.”
“A trace?”
“Yes.” Yu Hwa-ryeong spoke with a pained expression. “My Master told me that Martial Uncle Seok, prepared for death, left the mark of the Mastery Radiance Sword Control on the man’s scabbard.”
To ensure the man’s tracks could never be lost, Seok Song had secretly carved the trace of their technique onto the enemy’s scabbard. Since the technique involved defensive sword movements deployed in a completely unique manner, Bu Eunseol would undoubtedly be able to recognize it.
“If only the two of them had possessed inborn killing intent like you…” Yu Hwa-ryeong gripped his fists tightly. “They would never have died by his hand.”
Bu Eunseol nodded in agreement. The profound Mastery Radiance Sword Control reacted to killing intent. Hadn’t that mysterious sword art perfectly blocked even the Beggar King’s techniques at point-blank range?
“You missed the most important detail.” A sharp glint flashed in Bu Eunseol’s eyes. “If the Seventh Seat identified him as a government official, he surely would have mentioned his affiliation. Did he not?”
In an instant, Yu Hwa-ryeong’s face turned ashen. He had known the official’s affiliation all along but had withheld it until now.
“That man…” After a long silence, a hesitant answer flowed from Yu Hwa-ryeong’s lips. “He said he belongs to the Eastern Depot.”
“The Eastern Depot…”
Interest sparked in Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
Wasn’t the Eastern Depot the most powerful of the Imperial Court’s special intelligence agencies? Possessing extra-legal authority to arrest, judge, and execute, their reach extended to high officials, royalty, and even founding contributors. No one could escape their grasp.
“I am sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”
It was a natural reaction. Killing a member of the Eastern Depot was akin to turning the entire government into one’s enemy.
Yu Hwa-ryeong bowed his head deeply. “In truth, I have agonized over this ever since I learned you were a candidate for the Demonic Palace’s succession.”
Head lowered, he muttered softly. “I thought if I told you it was the Eastern Depot beforehand… you would never agree to help.”
“That is fine. However, there is one thing I do not understand.” Bu Eunseol crossed his arms. “The Thousand Sword Society possesses significant wealth and power. Eastern Depot or not… wouldn’t you want to exact revenge with your own hands?”
At the question, Yu Hwa-ryeong’s head drooped so low it seemed ready to pierce the floor. “When the two elders, the pillars of our Society, passed away, the internal atmosphere changed drastically.”
He bit his lip. “The majority of the disciples wish to maintain the Society’s immense wealth and influence. If we were to make an enemy of the Eastern Depot… the Society itself would not remain unscathed.”
Only then did Bu Eunseol grasp the full picture. Seok Song and Woo Hak had made it their life’s goal to avenge the Society Leader and the Ten Seats, but the disciples thought differently. They wished to maintain their comfort and the mighty intelligence network while remaining hidden, even if it meant abandoning revenge for their murdered masters.
“All my senior and junior brothers hope for the Society to step into the light again. But if we kill an official of the Eastern Depot, the Society will be shattered.” Yu Hwa-ryeong could not lift his head out of shame.
In the end, the disciples of the Thousand Sword Society had chosen self-preservation over honor. Realizing that the only way to exact revenge lay with Bu Eunseol, Yu Hwa-ryeong had come to the Demonic Palace alone, desperately hoping he would keep his oath.
“I am sorry.”
“There is no need to be sorry.” Bu Eunseol spoke calmly. “I am merely paying a debt.”
Plip. Plip.
Yu Hwa-ryeong finally let tears of gratitude fall.
From his perspective, Bu Eunseol was a man soon to ascend to the position of the Demonic Palace’s successor. To keep a promise, he had no need—and certainly no obligation—to risk the dangerous adventure of assassinating an Eastern Depot official. Yet Bu Eunseol kept his promise without hesitation, for he valued loyalty and faith more than honor or power.
He is a man of the Demonic Path, yet he possesses the spirit of a renowned hero.
“Thank you.” Wiping his tears, Yu Hwa-ryeong spoke with a voice filled with deep-seated resentment. “Please, you must kill him.”
***
Leaving the Changsha Prefecture, they abandoned the carriage and immediately employed light footwork techniques.
Running day and night for three days, they left Hunan and arrived at a marketplace bordering a small village in Sichuan. The marketplace, which should have been bustling with life, was swept only by a desolate wind. Because it neighbored the plague-stricken village, foot traffic had ceased, leaving only an ominous and bleak atmosphere.
“Wear this.”
As they reached the village entrance, Yu Hwa-ryeong produced a cloth to cover the nose and mouth. Bu Eunseol accepted it, wrapping it around his face before they suppressed their presence and climbed onto the roof of a large manor overlooking the settlement.
There were no healthy people to be seen venturing outside their homes. Patients lay in a quarantine shelter constructed in the center of the village square.
“Please endure just a little longer.”
“Over there, if the decoction is ready, please turn it over.”
In the shelter, a woman with her face covered by a cloth was checking the patients’ conditions and brewing medicine.
She is skilled.
Watching from afar, Bu Eunseol nodded. The woman appeared quite young, yet her hands moved with speed and precision as she treated the patients. Judging by the sharp energy emanating from her body, she not only possessed high medical skills but was clearly a trained martial artist.
[There doesn’t seem to be anyone who looks like an Eastern Depot official.]
Bu Eunseol sent a telepathic message, and Yu Hwa-ryeong responded with intensity in his eyes.
[Even if not now, he will definitely come.]
His conviction was absolute. However, contrary to expectations, not only did no one from the Eastern Depot appear, but even ordinary constables were absent as the sun set.
Still, Bu Eunseol and Yu Hwa-ryeong waited patiently.
As night fell, dark shadows arrived one by one near the village. They pulled a large cart, carefully loading those who had died from the plague onto it. Judging by their attire, they seemed to be villagers performing a grisly chore.
Watching this, Bu Eunseol’s eyes flashed.
[This is strange.]
[What is?]
[The villagers are taking the bodies themselves?]
[What is strange about that? They are villagers, so naturally, they would collect the bodies in their own village.]
Bu Eunseol shook his head. [Generally, disposing of plague-ridden bodies is the job of a mortician dispatched by the local officials.]
He sent another message, his expression grave beneath the mask. [Villagers are absolutely not permitted to handle and dispose of the bodies on their own accord.]
[Is that so?]
In the meantime, the people pulled the cart filled with corpses and left the village.
[Those people are suspicious.]
As Bu Eunseol secretly tailed them, Yu Hwa-ryeong followed. It was strange; instead of burning the bodies far from the village, they were dragging the cart deep into the mountains.