A single sailing ship was cutting through the vast, boundless sea. At first glance, it looked no different from an ordinary vessel—except for one thing: its sixteen sails were all dyed pitch black.
Whoooosh.
On the deck of the ship, where the wind howled past, stood an old man with hair like a lion’s mane. It was Hyeok Ryeon-eung, the head of Majeon’s Guardian Hall and the Chief Instructor of the Ten Demon Successors plan. Staring out at a remote island barely visible on the horizon, he muttered in a low voice:
“I just can’t figure it out.”
“What do you mean?” asked Baek Jeoncheon, walking beside him. Hyeok Ryeon-eung shook his head.
“That boy, Bu Eunseol.”
“Ah…”
“He doesn’t have exceptional physical strength, nor are there any signs that he’s trained in martial arts. Yet he managed to take down someone who mastered Mukheon’s swordsmanship in a single move.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung was a master of real-combat martial arts, having survived countless life-and-death battles but even he couldn’t understand how Bu Eunseol had defeated Neung Ungang.
“From his movements, he clearly knew the counter-technique. But how could that be possible?”
Baek Jeoncheon gave a faint smile.
“From what I saw, it seemed like he studied Neung Ungang’s sword paths in the arena and figured out how to counter them.”
“There’s no way that’s possible.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung shook his head. “If someone can find the flaws in a technique just by watching it, that child would surpass even the legendary Heavenly Demon Emperor—a peerless genius.”
“But there were moments when he closely examined the fallen fighters.”
“To read a technique from the wounds of the fallen… That’s something only veteran warriors who’ve roamed the martial world for decades can do. Even then, they must be deeply versed in both orthodox and unorthodox martial arts.”
“Well, that’s true.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung and Baek Jeoncheon were both masters with keen insight.
But neither had any idea that Bu Eunseol had spent his childhood following Bu Zhanyang, studying the causes of death from corpses.
“Even if he found a flaw, countering a killing move with a single technique is practically suicide. If Neung Ungang hadn’t let his guard down and had continued his assault? No matter how I look at it, it makes no sense.”
“Regardless, he succeeded.” Baek Jeoncheon smiled calmly.
“Perhaps he truly gambled with his life.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung shook his head.
“In a duel where your life’s on the line, there is no such thing as luck. That boy definitely has something.” Though he said nothing more, Hyeok Ryeon-eung seemed displeased that Bu Eunseol had defeated Neung Ungang and become a Ten Demon Successor.
“Whatever it is, we’ll find out soon enough.” Baek Jeoncheon shrugged.
“Our job is simply to bring Ten Demons to life.” By then, the ship had nearly reached the island in the middle of the vast ocean.
Lost in thought, Hyeok Ryeon-eung slowly nodded.
“…So that’s how it is.”
***
Bu Eunseol opened his eyes.
As Bu Eunseol slowly rose and scanned his surroundings, a strange expression formed on his face. There were two reasons for it.
‘The wounds…’
His entire body had been covered with wounds large and small, and he had lost consciousness the moment he passed the Second Trial. Yet now, the cuts and gashes left by the Sword of Judgement were neatly stitched up. Not only that, they had been treated with golden salve and properly bandaged. Judging by the lack of pain and how light his body felt, it seemed a highly skilled physician—perhaps one from the Medicine Hall—had personally tended to him.
‘I must’ve been transported by ship.’
The second reason for his surprise was that he was clearly inside a ship’s cabin. All around him were boys and girls dressed in various styles of martial garments, all staring at him intently. Some faces looked familiar—most likely other participants who had passed the First Trial due to their strong physiques.
“…”
Bu Eunseol sat up calmly, but the expressions of those in the cabin weren’t kind. A few showed curiosity, but most were filled with dismissal and contempt.
‘I’m used to those kinds of looks.’
A normal person might have flinched or felt awkward under such scrutiny but Bu Eunseol had performed corpse-cleaning duties for most of his life, enduring countless episodes of scorn and disdain from others. Even if hundreds more stared at him with those eyes, he wouldn’t be fazed in the least.
Thud.
Just then, a low vibration ran through the floor, followed by a deep voice from outside the cabin.
“Disembark.”
The boys and girls in the cabin stood up in unison and marched out in mechanical motions. Then, the desolate landscape of the island came into view before their eyes.
“This place…”
Someone muttered, and the black-robed martial artist leading the group of boys at the front replied.
“This is Hell Island.”
Hell Island.
The name suited the scenery perfectly. A remote island in the middle of the ocean, unreachable without a ship. At its center stood a massive stone mountain devoid of even a single blade of grass or tree. Staring out at the barren landscape, one could easily feel like they’d stepped into hell itself to pay for their sins.
“Why are you spacing out?”
The black-robed man at the front smacked Bu Eunseol on the shoulder as he stood absentmindedly in the back.
“Move it.”
At that moment, Bu Eunseol’s eyes widened.
‘Was it always like this?’
The shoulder the man had hit was the one that had been deeply torn—both skin and muscle. And yet, despite the impact, he felt no pain at all. The injury had been completely healed.
‘As long as you don’t die, the healers can perfectly heal even the most severe wounds here.’ That was a critical piece of information and only Bu Eunseol who survived the Second Trial knew it.
“These are your quarters.” Following the long, snake-like procession, they arrived at the huge rocky mountain Bu Eunseol had seen when disembarking from the ship.
Looking closer, he saw countless caves dotting the mountain’s surface.
‘Was this made by humans? No… that can’t be.’ The massive stone mountain was far too large to have been man-made, and yet it had too many caves for it to be naturally formed.
“Leave your current clothes and weapons here. Take one set of clothes and a sword from the table.” The black-robed martial artist pointed to a large table beside him.
On the table were dark, coarse uniforms. They didn’t come in many sizes, but they had drawstrings at the waist and chest, so anyone could manage to wear them. Next to the clothes were simple iron swords—the kind you could buy at a blacksmith’s for twenty silver coins.
“Choose any cave you want. It’s up to you.”
Rustle, rustle!
The moment he finished speaking, the lined-up boys scrambled to grab clothes and ran toward the caves. The locations and structures of the caves varied widely—even at a glance. The difference between a clean cave and a filthy one could be huge. Some would take time to clean, while others were so filthy they were beyond hope. Since it was the place where they’d be resting and sleeping, everyone wanted the best one possible.
‘Caves…’
But Bu Eunseol didn’t rush. He climbed the stone mountain slowly. Having lived in a tiny room behind a modest funeral parlor on the outskirts of Pyeongan, he didn’t care where he slept as long as there was space to lie down.
“This one will do.”
“I expected it to be damp, but it’s actually pretty decent.” The larger, more comfortable caves had already been taken by the faster contestants.
The problem was that arguments were breaking out over some of the better remaining caves.
“Hey, how about you give this one to me, yeah?”
“I think this one’s better suited for a girl, don’t you?” As the quarrels grew louder, a boy who couldn’t take it anymore pointed toward his own cave.
“Don’t fight. I’ll just go somewhere else.” Watching that scene, a strange light flickered once again in Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
‘They don’t know what happened in the Second Trial.’ If they knew what was in the Second Trial…? If they had seen the brutal outcome of that battle…? There’s no way such a peaceful conversation would be happening. Yet all the participants here were dressed in luxurious clothing. Some of the boys even exuded elegance and nobility.
‘Are they all heirs of noble families?’
Only then did Bu Eunseol realize something terrifying.
Now that he thought about it, the ones who had remained in the Second Trial were mostly people who had learned martial arts on their own or were from minor sects. In short, they were all people whose deaths didn’t matter.
Crack.
Bu Eunseol clenched his teeth.
‘You better survive.’
Even now, the faces of those who had died in the Second Trial floated in his mind. Death—supposedly the most equal thing—was unfair in the Demon Battlefield.
“Still haven’t chosen?” A low voice came from behind.
When he turned his head, he saw the black-clad warrior looking down at him with solemn eyes.
“You’ve been slow since earlier.”
When Bu Eunseol bowed his head politely, the warrior waved his hand dismissively.
“There’s no time. Hurry and choose.”
“Then… I’ll choose this place.”
After inspecting the caves one by one, Bu Eunseol pointed to the most remote and tucked-away one. It was piled with dirt and filth, and the entrance was so narrow one had to crouch to enter but Bu Eunseol didn’t care in the slightest. Rather, he felt relieved to have secured a quiet spot.
‘It’s narrow and filthy… but that just means people will avoid it.’
“You’re choosing that place?” The boys nearby smirked with ridicule.
It wasn’t one of the better spots, but there were still plenty of caves left that were more comfortable than that one. And yet he was deliberately choosing a dirty, cramped cave?
“Must like filthy places.”
“Judging by his shabby clothes, maybe he’s used to filth.”
Despite the mocking voices around him, Bu Eunseol walked calmly into the cave. At that, the black-clad man’s eyes gleamed.
A gifted one, no doubt.
Though the cave Bu Eunseol chose looked dirty and narrow, it had many hidden advantages. Its entrance was so tight that it was almost impossible to ambush, and inside, there was enough space for someone to train alone. On top of that, the lack of natural light made it ideal for getting deep, uninterrupted sleep.
“Once you’re all changed, come out.” At the man’s command, the candidates who had gone into the caves to change reassembled in the clearing.
“There are ten martial halls set up on this Hell Island where you can learn the martial arts of the Ten Demonic Sects.” The black-clad man swept his gaze across the group as he spoke.
“You may learn them all, or choose just one. That is up to you.” The boys murmured among themselves.
Naturally, even if they couldn’t master all of them, just learning one of the Ten Demonic Sects’ martial arts would be a great gain.
“In addition, your daily schedule is entirely up to you.” The man unrolled a large piece of parchment on the table.
It was a detailed map showing the locations of the ten martial halls set up across Hell Island.
“If you want to sleep, sleep. If you want to train in martial arts, train.”
“You may do as you please.” At that, the expressions of the gathered participants brightened.
They could freely learn the martial arts they desired, and use their time without a fixed schedule.
But Bu Eunseol’s expression hardened coldly.
‘Something’s off.’
These were cruel people who had planned to massacre the participants. Even if the fate of the Martial Arena depended on it, there was no way they would let the Ten Demonic Successors train in such a loose manner.
“Well then, I wish you luck.” With those words, the black-clad man turned and disappeared somewhere.
“Let’s hurry.” Most of the gathered participants, eyes fixed on the map, dashed off in the same direction.
It was the place where the Martial Hall of the Hua Wu Sword Sect—the strongest faction among the Ten Demonic Sects, where Absolute Sword Techniques could be learned—was located.
“I’ve mastered the Way of Movement, so I’ll head to the Blood Flame Path.”
“I’ve long wished to learn the White Horse Scroll of the White Horse Clan.”
“My specialty is the Long Staff Technique, so I’m going to the Extinction Palace.”
“I heard the poison techniques of the Hell Blood Fortress don’t harm the body.”
Several boys chose the martial halls corresponding to the arts they were familiar with. Before long, all the participants gathered at the foot of the stone mountain vanished, leaving Bu Eunseol standing there alone.
‘What I need to learn now is not the advanced martial arts.’ Bu Eunseol had never systematically studied martial arts. And who knew what might happen next on Hell Island? Staring blankly at the parchment showing the locations of the martial halls, Bu Eunseol’s eyes suddenly flashed.
Step by step.
He began walking toward the northern direction where no one else went. The place Bu Eunseol arrived at was in front of a small thatched hut.
‘Is this the martial hall?’ The black-clad man had clearly said there was a martial hall here. But upon arriving, there was no martial hall at all—just a single thatched hut standing alone in the barren plain.
“Excuse me.” Bu Eunseol, looking around, approached the hut.
“Is anyone here?”
Gururuming.
Then the courtyard in front of the hut moved like a swollen belly, and suddenly, a large head popped out from the ground.
“What is it?” The man who only showed his head above ground had eyes slashed like a wolf’s, with cheeks and sideburns covered in sharp whiskers.
“I’ve come to learn the martial arts of Nangyang.” At Bu Eunseol’s words, the man frowned and asked,
“Have you come wanting to become one of the Ten Demonic Successors?”
“Yes.”
“Then get lost.” The man muttered with a scowl, “Even if you try to master the main school’s martial arts, it’s a waste of time. Don’t tire yourself out for nothing.”
‘An honest man.’
Bu Eunseol also knew well. Nangyang was so fallen it barely qualified as one of the Ten Demonic Sects anymore. Yet it still held a seat among them because of its glorious past, having produced countless world-class masters.
‘But I need Nangyang’s martial arts.’ Bu Zhanyang had taught him how to determine the cause of death and told many stories about martial clans and famous figures. Among them were, of course, stories about the Ten Demonic Sects.
“I will learn the martial arts of Nangyang.”
“You must think this is a joke.” Even with Bu Eunseol’s firm response, the man yawned as if annoyed. “And don’t be mistaken. The time you have to learn martial arts here is not unlimited.”
“I understand that.”
“If you understand that much, go somewhere else and learn something more useful. Don’t waste your time.” The man let out another long yawn, then clicked his tongue.
“I will learn Nangyang’s martial arts,” Bu Eunseol said seriously. “Please teach me.”
The man looked at Bu Eunseol curiously.
“Why? If you wanted, you could learn swordsmanship from Hwa Wu, known as the strongest among the Ten Demonic Sects. And if swords aren’t your thing, you could go to Blood Flame Path, which rivals even Hwa Wu’s techniques. There’s no need to bother with this school’s martial arts.”
In response, Bu Eunseol gave a faint smile.
“Because surviving comes first.”
“Surviving?”
“The martial arts of the Ten Demonic Sects aren’t something you can master in a short time.” Bu Eunseol’s eyes gleamed with determination. “I heard that if you master Nangyang’s martial arts, you can gain the strongest resilience in the world.”
At this, the man let out a short laugh.
“That’s right. Our school’s martial arts start with reshaping the body. To use our techniques in real combat, you need a stronger body than anyone else.” The man’s expression turned solemn. “But that’s all. Just because you have more resilience than others doesn’t mean you’ll become the greatest demonic master. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Good. Glad to hear that.” Just as the man began to lower his head back into the ground, Bu Eunseol suddenly dropped to his knees and bowed deeply.
“Please, teach me the martial arts of Nangyang.” Bu Eunseol’s eyes were blazing, as if the sun itself had been embedded in them.
“You’re insane…” The man realized that Bu Eunseol wasn’t joking — he was truly determined to learn Nangyang’s martial arts.
“Fine.”
“Thank you.” As Bu Eunseol bowed again, the man waved his hand to stop him.
“Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only teaching you because it’s the order of Majeon.”
“I understand.”
Shrrrk—
Then, as if ice were melting around him, the ground softened and the man’s body began to emerge from the earth.
Thud.
Once fully risen above ground, he appeared almost twice as broad-shouldered as an average man and stood nearly seven cheok tall (a cheok is roughly 30 cm, so he was around 2.1 meters or 7 feet tall).
“Out of ten who try to learn our school’s martial arts, nine die.”
“I understand.” Seeing no hesitation in Bu Eunseol’s eyes, the man let out a dry laugh, revealing his fangs.
“Your name?”
“Bu Eunseol.”
“No, your name is now Nangyang Trainee Number One. Got it?”
The man clicked his tongue as he added, “Not that I know if there will ever be a Number Two.”
“Yes, understood.” Bu Eunseol nodded, and the man pointed his thumb at his own face.
“I am the Secret Head of Nangyang, Sa Woo. From now on, call me Elder Sa.”
