Having completed his training at the Wolf Fang Pavilion, Bu Eunseol returned to his cave.
As he stepped inside, a peculiar expression crossed his face.
Unlike when he had first entered, he could now perceive countless details. The chitinous scratching of insects crawling on the stone floor, the sluggish current of the musty, damp air… information he could never have detected before now felt as vivid as if seen with his own eyes.
I need to recover quickly.
Bu Eunseol was utterly exhausted. He had walked for a month without rest just to reach the Demonic Palace, and immediately upon arrival, he had been thrown into a life-or-death battle. More than anything, the intense fatigue stemmed from having learned the Way of the Beast.
I’m sensing too much.
Perceiving and feeling so many things meant his mind had to process that much more information. Having just learned the Way of the Beast, Bu Eunseol was subconsciously, constantly analyzing the flood of sensory input. Even just standing still felt as tiring as writing with one hand while reading a book with the other.
I need to sleep, even just a little.
Suppressing the deluge of sensations as much as possible, Bu Eunseol closed his eyes. But even in sleep, the heightened senses granted by the Way of the Beast wouldn’t disappear. While an unparalleled advantage for a warrior, it was a hindrance when trying to rest.
Plink.
Just then, a single drop of water, condensed on the cave ceiling, fell.
Plink.
Plink.
Plink.
That’s it! As Bu Eunseol counted the water drops falling at a regular interval, a sudden realization struck him. I need to shut off the flood of senses, like closing a tap, letting them out one drop at a time.
Taking a deep breath, Bu Eunseol slowly closed his eyes again. He began practicing dulling the razor-sharp senses of the Way of the Beast, little by little. What Bu Eunseol was attempting was, in fact, a practical application method that even seasoned masters of the Wolf Fang Pavilion, long accustomed to the technique, found difficult.
Focusing with all his might to recover his body faster, Bu Eunseol, without realizing it, was mastering the method of finely controlling the senses of the Way of the Beast on his own.
Plink.
Finally, after counting the three thousand, one hundred and forty-second water drop fall, Bu Eunseol felt his fatigue dissipate as if he had slept soundly, having considerably dampened the input from the Way of the Beast. He slowly rose and exited the cave to find that day had broken.
“Where to now?”
Emerging into the open space before the stone mountain, Bu Eunseol looked again at the parchment map showing the locations of the martial training halls. As he pondered with a serious expression, Sa Wu’s words suddenly came back to him.
“Do you think the time to learn martial arts on Hell Island is infinite?”
If that was true, then the time remaining to learn martial arts must be short. He needed to become stronger as quickly and efficiently as possible.
“There’s no other choice.” Gazing at one location on the parchment, Bu Eunseol nodded. It was the site of the Flower Rain Sword Sect, renowned as the strongest among the Ten Demonic Sects.
Masters of the Orthodox Faction favored the sword. Masters of the Demonic Path favored the blade. This was practically an unwritten rule in the Murim.
Unlike the sword, blade arts were tyrannical, unbound by rigid forms and principles. Their power was generally greater, suiting the Demonic Path’s reverence for the Way of Hegemony, so nearly all chose the blade.
That is, until the Flower Rain Sword Sect was established.
Seven hundred years ago, the Flower Rain Sword Emperor, Jeok Hwa-un, appeared in the Demonic martial world like a comet. He was a grandmaster of unparalleled martial arts, rivaling even the Grand Divine Demonic Emperor who founded the Demonic Path. Compiling and systematizing the previously disorganized demonic sword arts, he finally created a single sword style: the Flower Rain Sword.
This sword art, truly like a rain of fire falling from the heavens, became the number one sword art of the Demonic Path, and the sect he founded now held the top position among the Ten Demonic Sects.
“This is…”
Following the map deep into the stone mountains of Hell Island, Bu Eunseol arrived at a martial training hall complex consisting of five buildings, including a large training ground. “The Flower Rain Sword Sect martial training hall…”
Though constructed of old wood, compared to Sa Wu’s thatched hut, it looked like a palace. Furthermore, since most of the Ten Demonic Successor candidates on Hell Island had flocked here, a boisterous noise could be heard even from outside.
“What is your business?” A gatekeeper stood guard before the hall. His eyes shone sharply, suggesting he was a deeply skilled martial artist.
“I have come to learn the martial arts of the Flower Rain Sword Sect,” Bu Eunseol answered politely.
The gatekeeper gestured towards the complex. “The martial training hall is divided into Beginner, Intermediate, and Advanced Halls. Each hall has its own assigned instructor.” He pointed towards a smaller building on the left with a cold expression. “Go to the Beginner’s Hall.”
Bu Eunseol slowly walked into the indicated building. Despite its exterior appearance, the interior was very simple, closely resembling a small, common martial training hall one might find in Fǔzhōng. At the far end, where various weapons were racked, was a small office, inside which sat a man dressed in black robes.
That man. Bu Eunseol looked slightly surprised. The man sitting in the office was none other than the black-robed man who had led the children off the ship. So he was a master of the Flower Rain Sword Sect.
“You,” the black-robed man said, looking up and recognizing Bu Eunseol with a puzzled expression. “What brings you here?”
“I have come to learn the martial arts of the Flower Rain Sword Sect.”
“You came to learn this sect’s sword arts?” The man looked skeptical.
The sword arts of the Flower Rain Sword Sect, which encompassed the entirety of demonic sword knowledge, were as profound and vast as Shaolin’s arts, making them extremely difficult to learn. Those who had intended to learn swordsmanship from the start, or specifically sought the number one demonic sword art, had entered the hall early on.
“You’re only coming to learn this sect’s sword now, after fifteen days have passed?”
“Yes.”
At the confident reply, the black-robed man frowned, displeased. Was my assessment of him as talented merely a mistake? Clearing his throat, he spoke in a low voice.
“Those who entered before you have already completed their training here and mostly moved on to the Intermediate Hall. Even among them, some who came already deeply proficient in sword arts haven’t yet advanced to the Advanced Hall.”
Looking down at Bu Eunseol, the man continued. “This sect’s sword arts are the most extensive among all demonic martial arts and consume the most time.”
“Does that mean…”
“It means that in learning this sect’s arts, a fifteen-day gap can create a difference in progress as vast as that between heaven and earth.”
“Understood.”
Seeing no change in Bu Eunseol’s expression, the man asked, bewildered. “What exactly were you doing for the past fifteen days?”
“I was learning martial arts at the Wolf Fang Pavilion.”
“Wolf Fang Pavilion?” The man looked utterly baffled. “You spent fifteen days at the Wolf Fang Pavilion?”
“Yes.”
After pondering for a moment, the man asked again. “Don’t tell me you learned the Way of the Beast?”
“Yes.”
The man’s brow furrowed deeply. The Way of the Beast, the basic art of the Wolf Fang Pavilion, was not only extremely difficult to learn, but nine out of ten trainees died in the process. Yet this boy had spent fifteen days there and emerged perfectly fine?
He must have dabbled briefly and given up. Fifteen days wouldn’t even be enough to grasp the basics of the Way of the Beast. The man’s gaze turned openly contemptuous.
“It’s not too late now; choose another martial training hall. Elsewhere, depending on your ability, you might be able to catch up on fifteen days’ worth of training relatively quickly.”
The man’s expression, like one looking at a bothersome object, was strikingly similar to someone else’s—Sa Wu, buried in the ground in front of his hut.
“Thank you for your concern and advice.” Bu Eunseol clasped his hands, his expression impassive. “However, I will learn the Flower Rain Sword.”
“Hmph.” The man nodded, seeing no other option. “What is your name?”
Bu Eunseol bowed respectfully, hands clasped. “My name is Bu Eunseol.”
“Bu Eunseol,” the man repeated lowly, then pointed to himself. “I am Jin Gak, in charge of the Beginner’s Hall. Address me as Instructor Jin Gak.”
“Understood, Instructor Jin Gak.”
“Have you ever learned the sword be—” Jin Gak paused, observing Bu Eunseol’s posture with the iron sword at his waist, and shook his head. “…No, you haven’t.”
“How did you know?”
“Any martial artist who has learned even a little swordsmanship keeps their hand loose, ready to draw the sword at any moment.” Jin Gak narrowed his eyes. “But I see no sign that you have ever trained in the sword.”
“That is correct. I have never learned swordsmanship.”
“Honesty is good, but this is troublesome.” Jin Gak stroked his chin. “This sect’s sword arts are extremely complex; even talented individuals with excellent physical foundations find them difficult to grasp.”
“Is that so.”
“Furthermore, since you haven’t learned swordsmanship at all, the learning time will be even longer.” Jin Gak said with a look of pity. “I advise you one last time. It’s not too late. Go to another martial training hall.”
“Thank you for your concern. However, I will learn the sword arts of the Flower Rain Sword Sect.”
“Very well.” Realizing Bu Eunseol’s determination was firm, Jin Gak nodded. “Follow me.”
Leading Bu Eunseol to the exact center of the martial training hall, Jin Gak said, “The sword form I will teach you now is called the Flower Rain Thirteen Forms. These thirteen techniques contain the profound principles that form the foundation of the Flower Rain Sword.”
Thump.
Jin Gak stamped his foot, and a large parchment unfurled from the ceiling. Intricate diagrams and characters were inscribed upon it.
“These are the techniques and practical methods of the Flower Rain Thirteen Forms. First, study these diagrams and practice the sword.”
Bu Eunseol looked perplexed. He had never learned martial arts, let alone seen a martial arts manual. And now he was supposed to learn by himself just by looking at a manual?
I have no choice.
Focusing his mind, Bu Eunseol drew his iron sword and began moving according to the diagrams on the parchment.
Hmm. He was definitely assuming the postures shown in the diagrams, but something felt wrong. His sword path was unsteady, wavering like a drunkard.
Watching him, Jin Gak looked incredulous. “Do you perhaps not know how to read a sword manual diagram?”
“Isn’t it just a matter of following the postures?”
“That’s correct, but…” Jin Gak let out a deep sigh. “Why aren’t you applying the written principles described next to each technique?”
“The principles… sir?”
“Aren’t they written next to each technique? Read them.”
Bu Eunseol looked troubled. “Relax the entire body, soft flow reaches the one…”
The characters written beside the diagrams weren’t ordinary phrases but martial arts principles containing the underlying theory of the art. To Bu Eunseol, who had never learned martial arts, they looked like incomprehensible, strange pronouncements.
“Honestly, I don’t really understand what they mean.”
“These are basic principles that anyone who has read even a single martial arts treatise would know.”
As Jin Gak stared at him with suspicion, Bu Eunseol bit his lip. The truth will come out eventually. Unlike the Way of the Beast, which was considered an esoteric art from beyond the Central Plains, the Flower Rain Sword Sect’s sword art was the orthodox martial art of the Central Plains Demonic Path. If he kept hiding the fact that he hadn’t learned martial arts, he would ultimately fail to learn even a single sword technique.
“To be perfectly honest, I have never learned martial arts at all.”
“Never learned martial arts?”
“That is correct. My master… passed away suddenly, so I was unable to learn.”
“You mean you never learned at all?”
“Yes.”
Jin Gak looked utterly flabbergasted. “Even though this is the hall for teaching basic swordsmanship, am I supposed to teach you the very fundamentals of martial arts?”
“…My apologies.”
“Ugh.” Jin Gak let out a groan as if his chest were constricted. He wanted to shout, Come back after you’ve learned the basics! But looking into Bu Eunseol’s eyes, burning with eagerness, he couldn’t bring himself to say it.
He wants to learn, so I have to teach him. A web of fine wrinkles formed around Jin Gak’s mouth as he spoke with an air of resignation. “‘Relax the entire body’ means that when executing sword techniques, you should release the tension in your body and move fluidly. Specifically, you must absolutely release the tension in your abdomen and waist.”
“I don’t understand how to release the tension in my abdomen and waist.”
“You must control your mind and release tension. If the body is rigid, the abdomen naturally tenses, and when the abdomen tenses, the body stiffens. And ‘soft flow reaches the one’ means…”
Jin Gak began teaching the sword art, explaining the principles one by one. This was a stroke of luck for Bu Eunseol. If he had entered the Beginner’s Hall from the start along with the numerous other candidates, he would never have received such detailed instruction. But now, since Bu Eunseol was the only one in the hall, Jin Gak had no choice but to teach him thoroughly, albeit reluctantly.
“Yes. That’s how you do it.”
Fortunately, Bu Eunseol was a quick learner. Jin Gak found himself teaching with the meticulous detail one would reserve for a direct disciple.
***
Four days later.
Bu Eunseol stood practicing with his iron sword. Thanks to Jin Gak’s detailed instruction, he had managed to learn how to execute the Flower Rain Thirteen Forms in a mere four days.
Whoosh. Shhk.
Bu Eunseol performed the entire sequence, slowly but with reasonable accuracy. Watching him, Jin Gak spoke again.
“Faster than expected. You seem to have a talent for the sword.”
“Thank you.”
“Hmm. You’ve learned all the techniques and the sword formula…” Jin Gak pondered for a moment, then nodded. “From now on, imagine an enemy before you and perform the Flower Rain Thirteen Forms.”
“An enemy… sir?”
“Correct. That is the test to advance to the Intermediate Hall.”
“A test.”
The opportunity had come sooner than expected. Steeling himself, Bu Eunseol drew his iron sword and began the form. But as his movements unfolded slowly, Jin Gak shook his head.
“Did I not tell you? Imagine an enemy is present, and execute the sword form as if in real combat.”
“As if in real combat… sir?”
“Correct.” Jin Gak stated with a solemn expression. “If you merely demonstrate a sword dance without being able to conjure a virtual opponent, you fail. Do you understand what I mean?”
“A virtual opponent means…”
“It means perform as if a real enemy is right in front of you. Only then can I see the sword intent contained within your techniques.”
“Understood.”
Taking a deep breath, Bu Eunseol closed his eyes.
A virtual opponent…
As he concentrated, his vision blurred, and suddenly, the wretched image of his grandfather flashed in his mind. Gradually, a black shadow materialized before him. It must be the master who had driven his grandfather to his death.
Shing!
Bu Eunseol drew his iron sword with all his might and executed the first technique of the Flower Rain Thirteen Forms, Whirlwind Without Origin.
Swish!
A streak of light cut through the air as if performing a fast sword technique.
Hm? Jin Gak narrowed his eyes, watching Bu Eunseol’s first move. Something’s strange.
Tilting his head, his eyes then flashed as Bu Eunseol twisted his body and performed the third technique, Flowing Cloud Mist.
What is this?
The Flowing Cloud Mist technique was meant to be executed softly and nimbly, like clouds drifting or mist spreading. But Bu Eunseol’s Flowing Cloud Mist flowed with a sharp killing intent, as if performing a supreme demonic art. Not only that, but the tip of his sword trembled strangely, making its path difficult to predict.
The technique is subtly different.
When performing a sword form, there were only two outcomes: either one executed the formula and techniques accurately, producing the intended power, or one didn’t. But Bu Eunseol’s sword form wasn’t entirely accurate, yet its power felt stronger, sharper.
Could it be… is this kid an unparalleled genius capable of freely altering sword forms at will?