Bu Eunseol hesitated for a moment.
‘Should I kill him?’
In a cavern already turned into a slaughterhouse, secretly eliminating Cheon Hwain would change nothing.
He simply had to avoid leaving traces of martial arts—no finger-wind. The moment Cheon approached, Bu Eunseol planned to silently strike a death point.
“Gaaah!” But then a frenzied man ambushed Cheon Hwain from behind.
The attacker’s movements were impressive and even Cheon Hwain couldn’t tear him apart easily.
Hiss…
Suddenly, all the Soul-Severing Demon Incense filling the cavern vanished, replaced by a faint violet smoke.
Everyone froze mid-fight, standing dazed.
The new fragrance stung the nose like ice. In an instant, the bloodlust induced by the Soul-Severing Demon Incense was neutralized.
Rumble.
With a low vibration, light poured from the ceiling once more.
Under the dim glow, the horrific scene was fully revealed.
“Urgh.” Several warriors who looked around began vomiting.
Not a single corpse was intact.
Without inner energy, the only ways to kill were biting or clawing.
Thus, entrails and bodily fluids lay scattered everywhere in gruesome detail.
“Urrgh…”
Some couldn’t bear the sight and pounded on the entrance, screaming.
“I surrender! I give up this damn trial!”
But the gate did not open.
The Eighth Regulation of the Sword Tomb: once inside a trial, surrender was impossible.
And the First Trial was not yet over.
Hiss!
After some time, the lights vanished again, and new smoke rose.
This was not Soul-Severing Demon Incense.
A single breath felt like lungs burning to ash.
“Arghhh…”
People writhed in agony.
Even the tiniest inhale shrank their lungs; breathing became torture.
“AAAAH!” Screaming in pain, they rushed to the entrance.
“Open it! Open the gate!”
No matter how they pounded, it stayed shut.
‘Not a lethal poison.’ Bu Eunseol’s eyes grew colder as he inhaled.
The spreading fragrance was not an instant killer. Yet people lost control, screaming and panicking from the pain.
‘Testing endurance, then?’
Bu Eunseol shook his head.
This wasn’t the Ten Demon Warriors Plan.
Most here were adult third-rate warriors. Even the talented ones couldn’t learn advanced martial arts in their current state.
“AAAAH!”
White foam bubbled from the mouths of those thrashing in agony.
But those who understood the poison or possessed great patience simply closed their eyes and endured.
Thud. Thud.
Eventually, several collapsed like logs and breathed their last.
Afterward came hallucinogens like the Phantom-Needle Poison that induced terror, or the Salt-Shell Venom that burned only skin.
Various poisonous fragrances rose intermittently.
Among them were capable warriors, but most were second-rate at best, with scant inner energy and almost no mental discipline. Each time poison smoke rose, warriors lost their minds—some even bashed their heads against walls to end it.
When the day finally ended, fewer than a hundred remained of the nearly two hundred who had entered.
“Huuurgh…” Even after the poisons cleared, murderous light gleamed in the survivors’ eyes.
Enduring prolonged torment had filled them with malice.
Rumble—
The gate opened, revealing the crimson-masked Ghost-Masked Envoy once more.
“What is the meaning of this?!”
Enraged survivors charged the masked man, shouting furiously.
“Why?! Why commit such atrocities?!”
Others fell to their knees.
“Please let us out! I want to leave!”
The Ghost-Masked Envoy regarded the protesters coldly.
“I said multiple times: once the trial begins, you cannot leave.”
His icy gaze swept over them.
“Return to your places immediately.”
Both protesters and beggars rolled their eyes in rage. “You think you’ll get away with this? If we get out—”
Slash.
With a thunderous boom, the head of one protester thudded to the floor.
A lightning-fast sword stroke had severed it cleanly.
Splash!
Shaking blood from his blade, the Ghost-Masked Envoy spoke with killing intent.
“Anyone else wish to break the rules?”
The protesters fell silent and backed away trembling.
Even at full strength, none could have blocked that merciless, lightning-fast strike.
And now their dantians were sealed.
Any rash resistance meant dying like dogs without a sound.
“We move to the next trial.” At the Ghost-Masked Envoy’s command, the warriors lowered their heads and shuffled through the opened gate.
An empty clearing appeared.
In the center stood two towers five zhang tall, connected by a single log bridge.
Ladders for climbing lined each tower’s side.
“Two people climb the towers and push each other off the log bridge. The victor proceeds to the next trial.”
The warriors’ jaws dropped.
With full inner energy, falling five zhang was survivable with light footwork.
But with sealed dantians? Nine out of ten would die; survivors would be crippled.
“Why force us to kill each other?” A one-eyed man asked, genuinely baffled. “Is it to reduce numbers? Then just accept fewer people from the start. The first trial already culled plenty.”
“Did you think entering the Sword Tomb would be easy?”
At the Envoy’s words, the one-eyed man pleaded. “Even if we enter, most won’t be chosen by a sword anyway. Why not just let us in? Why make strangers slaughter each other?”
The crowd roared agreement.
“You’ll understand once you reach the Sword Tomb.”
“Why can’t you?”
“From our cult’s perspective, we are already letting complete strangers enter the Sword Tomb unconditionally.” The Ghost-Masked Envoy rested a hand on his sword hilt, annoyed.
“Follow our rules, or I will act immediately.”
It was a final ultimatum from the King of Hell.
If the Envoy decided to massacre them, no one could stop him.
The one-eyed man finally lowered his head.
“Begin.”
At the command, people began climbing the towers in order.
Watching silently, Bu Eunseol felt something strange.
The second trial, too, was merely an extension of the first—a slaughterfest.
As the one-eyed man said, the first trial could have culled the talented or reduced numbers as desired.
Why go through this complicated, tedious process just to make them fight?
“Argh!” From the left tower, a man finally pushed his opponent off.
With a wretched scream, the falling man’s skull shattered like a watermelon on the ground.
Kwshk.
Dead silence fell like a shroud.
Terror filled every face.
Fail to push the opponent, and you die.
—I absolutely cannot die like a dog here!
Obsession and madness burned in the eyes staring up at the towers.
“Argh!”
“Aaah!”
The fights continued; each time someone lost, a pitiful scream echoed.
Some chose mutual death when defeat was certain, leaping together.
Kwshk!
“Urgh.”
A few survived with only broken legs.
Finally, Bu Eunseol’s turn came.
As he climbed the left tower, a gigantic man stood like a mountain on the right.
“Easy win.”
The giant grinned ferociously at Bu Eunseol’s slender frame.
Without inner energy, only raw physical strength mattered.
He was certain the skinny man couldn’t overpower him.
Thud. Thud.
Sneering wickedly, the giant stepped onto the log bridge.
“Let’s start.” He stomped confidently. “I’ll warn you—mutual death won’t be easy.”
Crack.
Veins bulged like serpents as he flexed his arms.
Now Bu Eunseol saw that the man practiced powerful external arts that enhanced muscle strength.
External arts worked without inner energy, so sealing the dantian changed nothing.
“Come on!” Roaring, the giant charged straight at Bu Eunseol.
The bridge was barely wide enough for one person. With such brute force, evasion was impossible.
Swish.
Bu Eunseol calmly extended both hands.
A taunt: let’s test strength.
“Want to arm-wrestle?”
The giant laughed and reached to grab Bu Eunseol’s hands—
Pull.
Bu Eunseol yanked the giant’s arms toward himself. The giant stumbled forward.
“No chance!”
The giant instantly pulled back.
But that was exactly what Bu Eunseol wanted.
Whoosh!
Using the exact moment the giant pulled, Bu Eunseol lightly pushed instead.
“Huh?”
Like children playing, he used simple misdirection—push when pulled, pull when pushed. The giant never expected it.
“AAH!” With a startled cry, the giant plummeted.
Thud!
He crashed heavily to the ground.
Bu Eunseol descended casually, but the Ghost-Masked Envoy suddenly spoke.
“Wait.”
He sent another man up the right tower.
“One more round.”
Bu Eunseol looked incredulous. “Why?”
“You must survive until the end anyway.” The Envoy replied coldly. “But survive this one too, and you pass immediately.”
“Fine.” Bu Eunseol climbed again.
This opponent was smaller and scrawnier than Bu Eunseol.
Tap tap tap.
The skinny man immediately rushed across the log and began pushing.
Hiss…
Shockingly, he was far stronger than the previous giant.
And he used no technique—just pure brute force.
Bu Eunseol was steadily pushed back to the very edge of the tower.
One more step, and he would fall.
‘A disciple of the Hunyuan Sect.’
The Hunyuan Sect possessed not only the supreme Hunyuan Unity Energy Art, but also the Jade Steel Secret—remarkably similar to the Beast Way—that maximized raw physical strength without inner energy.
The power surging from this skinny man was precisely the Jade Steel Secret.
‘Child’s play.’
The very first thing Bu Eunseol trained after belatedly learning martial arts was foundational strength. From the moment he studied at Nangyang Pavilion, he never slept except during energy circulation.
Every waking hour was devoted to physical conditioning.
Crack.
His body had reached the absolute limit of what flesh could endure—equivalent to mastering the Beast Way to its extreme.
Hiss…
Bu Eunseol exerted real strength and instantly pushed the skinny man back.
The man’s eyes widened in shock.
Shhk. Shuk.
Then something strange happened.
Mad light flared in the skinny man’s eyes, and he began holding Bu Eunseol back—and even pushing again.
“I absolutely cannot die here!”
With a roar, he drove Bu Eunseol back once more.
The force was so overwhelming that even Bu Eunseol, at the pinnacle of physical training, could not push him off.
Just as Bu Eunseol was about to be forced off the tower—
Whoosh.
With a sonic boom, the watching Ghost-Masked Envoy leaped onto the log bridge.
“You’re using inner energy.” His gaze fixed on the skinny man’s feet.
Unknowingly, the man had channeled energy and left deep footprints in the wood.
“You used the Blood Shift Technique.”
The Blood Shift Technique temporarily relocated acupoints in an instant.
It was difficult to use—requiring knowledge of exactly which point the enemy targeted.
But the cult had lined everyone up in order and openly declared they would seal the dantian.
Using Blood Shift to preserve energy had been too easy.
“Did you think our rules were a joke?”
The skinny man sneered. “How could I let heretical scum seal my energy without knowing what you’re planning?”
Like Bu Eunseol, he had clearly infiltrated to investigate.
“Since I’m exposed, I’ll take you by force.”
Thud.
Landing on the ground, the skinny man opened his mouth.
He slowly drew a thread tied to his teeth.
Shhhhk.
As he pulled, a sharp dagger—still in its sheath—emerged from his throat.
He had swallowed a thread-connected dagger and endured until now.
“If you’re confident, fight me one-on-one. Don’t call your lackeys.”
The Ghost-Masked Envoy landed and smirked. “Pretty confident.”
“I wouldn’t have entered without confidence.” The man lowered into stance, dagger in hand.
The Envoy stared with still eyes, then nodded.
“Practitioner of Hunyuan energy arts… and you learned the Blue Net Swordsmanship.” He recognized the stance as Blue Net Swordsmanship at a glance.
“A Hainan Sect expert.”
The famous South Sea Hainan Sect had merged with Hunyuan and Blue Net Sects.
Only Hainan masters could wield both Blue Net Swordsmanship and Hunyuan Unity Energy.
“If you know that, kneel.”
“Pointless. Hainan or whatever—you die all the same.”
“…”
“With the waivers signed, even the Martial Alliance Lord couldn’t complain.”
“Overconfident. For this slaughter alone, your Heaven-Human Cult—”
Thuk.
Before he finished, a flash of light.
Thuk.
The dagger-wielding man’s head hit the floor.
Extreme Swift Killing Sword.
The Ghost-Masked Envoy had unleashed a strike faster than lightning.
Clack.
Sheathing his gleaming divine sword, he looked down at the headless corpse.
“Pathetic. Even for a Hainan man.”
Buzz buzz.
The watching warriors could not hide their shock.
The short man had exuded extraordinary presence and skill befitting a Hainan master.
Yet the Envoy beheaded him in one stroke.
“Don’t you want this kind of power too?” Casually sheathing his sword, the Envoy addressed the participants.
“Pass this place, and you can have strength like mine. The swords of the Sword Tomb grant such power.”
The warriors’ breathing grew ragged.
The Envoy’s words reignited the fire in their hearts.
“You, come down.” At his command, Bu Eunseol descended.
The bloody duels on the log bridge resumed.
‘What exactly is the purpose of this trial?’
It wasn’t to ferret out those hiding inner energy. Anyone skilled enough to infiltrate could crush third-rate warriors without using energy.
Bu Eunseol pondered deeply but found no answer.
“Argh!”
“Urgh!”
The log bridge battles ended quickly.
In less than half a shichen, all participants finished.
Losers inevitably fell, crippled or dead; winners clenched triumphant fists.
Only fifty remained.
“We move to the Third Trial.”
The final trial.
In a wide clearing stood twenty-five Heaven-Human Cultists, beside rows of bizarre metal cylinders.
Across from them, fifty soft swords—long and thin like skewers—were displayed.
Exactly fifty, matching the cylinders.
‘They deliberately culled to fifty.’
Not just Bu Eunseol—every participant felt it.
This third trial was the last.
Survive here, and they would finally enter the Sword Tomb.
“Everyone, put on those cylinders.”
At the Envoy’s words, participants eyed the large cylinders.
The dark, grimy tubes fit any build.
Clank.
The moment a body entered, they clamped perfectly to the wearer’s frame.
They covered from neck to below the knees.
“Each cylinder has fourteen holes. Four are real; the rest are fake dead ends.”
The Ghost-Masked Envoy spoke in a low voice to the staring crowd.
“The holes are connected by curved tubes, so the visible position differs from the actual. After each round, the real holes will shift.” He pointed to the skewer-like soft swords. “Of the four real holes, three pierce thigh, arm, or shoulder. The last one… pierces the heart.”
He narrowed the eyes visible through the mask.
“Even chainmail or Thirteen Supreme Guards won’t help. These soft swords are no ordinary blades.”
He swept his gaze over the warriors and spoke softly.
“Wear them, choose an opponent, and fight.”
The participants no longer showed surprise or fear.
Those who reached the third trial had eyes dyed with killing intent and madness. They had killed and killed again to get here. Nothing shocked or excited them anymore.
‘This is strange in its own way.’
The holes shifted randomly.
The tubes curved, making differences impossible to spot even with close inspection.
This wasn’t a contest of martial arts or senses—it was pure luck.
‘Moreover…’
Narrowing his eyes, Bu Eunseol used his Beast Way senses to examine the cylinder’s interior.
Wasn’t there an empty tube attached whose purpose he couldn’t discern?
