The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign – Chapter 1026

Bu Eunseol immediately headed for the Hwa Wu Sword Sect.

The matter with the Extinction Palace had merely been an order from the Demon Emperor. 

In truth, his real goal was the punishment of the Hwa Wu Sword Sect—or more accurately, the dark mastermind who was corrupting it from within.

‘Weiji Hyesang.’

Bu Eunseol was certain. The one moving the Hwa Wu Sword Sect was not Weiji Mu-a, but Weiji Hyesang. Furthermore, the individual with the fake body he had encountered previously was undoubtedly connected to him.

“You cannot go alone!”

All the warriors of the Death Shadow Corps were shocked to the point of fainting when they heard Bu Eunseol intended to go to the Hwa Wu Sword Sect by himself.

“It is fine. This is a matter that can only be settled if I go alone.”

The Hwa Wu Sword Sect was the undisputed number one sect of the Demonic Path; even if the entire Majeon mobilized every combat unit, victory could not be guaranteed. Whether it was the Death Shadow Corps or the Majeon, no amount of military force could simply topple it.

“Then we will go as well!”

As the warriors stepped forward, Yoo Unryong stepped in to restrain them. “The Lord has his reasons. Do not interfere.”

Only he could guess Bu Eunseol’s plan. “The Lord is not going to destroy the number one sect of the Demonic Path; he is going to strike down the one who is defiling it.”

The team leaders and warriors hung their heads with dissatisfied faces. The hot-tempered Won Semun and Jo Namcheon tried to rush out after Bu Eunseol, but they were held back by the adamant restraint of their comrades and dragged away helplessly.

“I’m sure he’ll handle it well.”

In truth, the warriors of the Death Shadow Corps had realized long ago that Bu Eunseol’s wisdom was deepening by the day, already having surpassed the boundaries of their comprehension. Ultimately, they shook their heads in resignation and reluctantly turned back toward the Majeon.

***

Arriving at the Hwa Wu Sword Sect, Bu Eunseol stopped and looked at the distant sky.

“Is it said that an ill fate first finds you in the guise of a good one?”

The Hwa Wu Sword Sect. 

It was the place that first taught him swordplay, showed him how to interpret the scriptures of high-level martial arts, and housed the great mentors who taught him the path of the sword and the secret techniques they had mastered over a lifetime. It was a place with masters who had passed on their absolute skills and convictions until their final breath.

Yet, he was now in a situation where he had to tear that very sect down with his own hands.

‘It was destiny anyway.’

In the past, he hadn’t believed in fate. But at some point, he had started uttering the word naturally. Without it, he couldn’t justify this twisted reality and absurd world.

‘I only hope my guess is correct.’

If his prediction held true, he wouldn’t have to destroy the Hwa Wu Sword Sect. If he could strike down only that wicked individual, everything would end.

White snow began to fall one by one from the sky where a cold northern wind blew. Bu Eunseol, almost like a child, reflexively reached out his hand to catch a flake. But the snow that touched his hand vanished instantly—like a hollow dream, like an ambition that turns to foam.

Lives are like dreams; they vanish like bubbles while looking like illusions, casting long shadows we fail to perceive. 

The villain who manipulated the Hwa Wu Sword Sect would also vanish in an instant, just like this snow.

Bu Eunseol walked toward the massive main gate that filled his vision. Between two enormous stone pillars that seemed to compete for the sky, dark reddish-brown gates of ancient wood reinforced with heavy black iron were firmly shut. Their sheer size was enough to intimidate anyone, and strange, twisted patterns—uncertain if they were marks of time or intentional design—were deeply engraved on the surface, adding a sinister aura.

It was strange. 

Normally, the procession of people entering this gate would be as long as a snake. But now, not even an ant was in sight. Even the guards were gone.

Bu Eunseol stood before the gate. 

Above it, at the highest point, hung a massive plaque. On a wooden board of polished ebony, the characters for “The Number One Sect of the Demonic Path” were engraved in gold leaf, written in a script so fluid it seemed to squirm with life.

“Since when was it the Number One Sect…?”

Even before Jeok Hwa-un founded the current Hwa Wu Sword Sect seven hundred years ago, this place had been the seat of the Demonic Path’s power. Only the masters and the names changed over generations; the “Number One Sect” had existed continuously alongside the history of the martial world.

Creak.

As he approached, the massive gates opened on their own. Bu Eunseol stepped inside to find a shocking sight. It was empty. The disciples who should have filled the vast interior, the servants, and the maids were nowhere to be found. The interior of this titan of a sect had turned into a ghost town.

Thud. Thud.

He wasn’t particularly surprised; he simply walked forward with a calm gaze. After walking for a while, he saw a pavilion by a small pond. There, an elegant middle-aged man sat, drinking alone.

He was the Number One Sword of the Demonic Path, one of the Three Demons who performed the most profound martial arts under heaven: The Profound Demon, Weiji Mu-a.

“Sect Leader.”

Bu Eunseol offered a respectful greeting, but Weiji Mu-a acted as if he heard nothing, calmly picking up a bottle of wine.

Pour—

The way the Profound Demon held the bottle was unique. Most people grab the narrow neck of the bottle to pour. However, he spread his palm wide and gripped the broad bottom of the bottle, which should have been too large for a single hand. It looked as if the bottle was stuck to his palm. He wasn’t even using internal energy; his long, slender fingers simply held the wide base with ease.

‘If he can hold such a large bottle so comfortably…’

Bu Eunseol realized in that instant: if a weapon were placed in those white hands, it would never leave his grip, even in death.

Weiji Mu-a refilled his glass and, only then appearing to notice Bu Eunseol, spoke in a low voice. “Will you have a drink?”

Bu Eunseol nodded and sat across from him. 

A wine glass appeared in front of him as if it had always been there. It wasn’t that Weiji Mu-a moved at super-speed; he had warped space itself to bring the glass.

The glass was filled. The wine was not a bright color, but had a faint green tint.

“Did you brew this yourself?” Bu Eunseol asked, lifting the glass.

Normally, the wine Weiji Mu-a brewed had a subtle fragrance and was as mild as water. But the wine in this glass had a pungent aroma—an unpleasant mix of medicinal smells and a foul stench.

“No, I bought this one at a very high price.”

“I see.”

Bu Eunseol drained the glass without hesitation. A spicy heat burned his throat, and a nasty smell wafted through his nose. It felt like even drinking a mixture of lethal poisons would taste better than this.

“How is it?”

Bu Eunseol frowned and spoke honestly. “It doesn’t seem like wine fit for drinking.”

“Describe the taste accurately.”

“It tastes foul enough to make me want to block my nose.”

“Indeed.”

At Bu Eunseol’s scathing review, Weiji Mu-a actually nodded with a satisfied expression. “In this sect, people who speak the truth like you have long since disappeared.”

Sensing the hidden meaning, Bu Eunseol said consolingly, “How many people in this world would dare speak the truth to the Sect Leader’s face?”

Weiji Mu-a gave a self-deprecating smile and poured another drink. “In fact, this wine is the ‘Drunken Dream Immortal,’ considered the best by the world’s drinkers.”

“Drunken Dream Immortal?”

Bu Eunseol’s mouth fell open. 

It was a legendary wine made from the petals of the Snow-Spirit Flower that blooms only once every ten years on Kunlun Mountain during a full moon, using top-grade red sorghum, distilled and filtered nine times, and aged for at least thirty-three years in jars made of thousand-year-old jade. The recipe had long been lost, and a single remaining bottle was said to be worth the price of a castle.

Yet, this wine with such a terrible taste and smell was the Drunken Dream Immortal?

“That’s strange. I heard the Drunken Dream Immortal is as clear as crystal with no impurities.”

Bu Eunseol looked down at the glass. The wine was dyed green, and small black impurities were visible.

“It couldn’t be helped,” Weiji Mu-a shook his head. “Because I mixed in Snow Jade Tea.”

Bu Eunseol was stunned again. 

Snow Jade Tea grew by absorbing the essence of rocks and water from melting eternal snow. The leaves had to be harvested using special tools during the very brief moment the sun hit the canyon in spring. If the timing or weather was off, harvest was impossible. 

A single cup of Snow Jade Tea was known to cost as much as dozens of manors.

To mix the precious Drunken Dream Immortal with the expensive Snow Jade Tea?

“Isn’t it fascinating?” Weiji Mu-a looked at Bu Eunseol with a strange expression. “When you mix the best tea and the best wine, it becomes the worst, nearly undrinkable substance.”

The best tea and the best wine. They could not coexist. Because each had reached its own peak and existed in a singular, pure form, they were able to reach the highest state.

“Just like the situation of this sect,” Weiji Mu-a whispered, looking at Bu Eunseol. “Even if you combine the best spirit with the best body, if they come from different places, harmony is impossible.”

He lowered his gaze to the glass again and muttered, “Because it is a singularity that does not allow for mixture, it can reach the highest realm, never encroaching on other boundaries.”

Those words were not just full of profound wisdom; they explained why the Hwa Wu Sword Sect had become this way and why this catastrophe was happening.

After a long silence, Bu Eunseol spoke. 

“Why… are you doing this for me?”

Weiji Mu-a was an absolute master whom Bu Eunseol could not guarantee a victory over, even if he fought with his life on the line. Yet, from the beginning until now, he had never been hostile and had always treated Bu Eunseol like a disciple of the sect—even now, when Bu Eunseol had come to tear the sect down.

If Weiji Mu-a hadn’t shown such favor, Bu Eunseol would have had to cut a bloody path through countless masters just to get here.

“Why… you ask?”

Weiji Mu-a looked up at the gray-stained sky, his eyes filled with the falling white snow. “I should be the one asking you.”

He looked back at Bu Eunseol. “You only received a few pointers on swordplay. Why do you have such deep affection for this sect?”

From Weiji Mu-a’s perspective, Bu Eunseol had only been taught a few sword moves by people like Jingak or Cheon Un-gwang. While it wasn’t common to pass on secret techniques to someone of another sect without a formal master-disciple relationship, it wasn’t unheard of. The dream of a martial world warrior is to make a name for themselves, and their next dream is to find a genius to inherit their martial arts.

Furthermore, Bu Eunseol had returned the perfected Unmatched Thunderbolt Form to the sect. Despite several clashes with Weiji Hyesang, he had refrained from retaliation and kept his distance. In reality, they owed each other nothing.

And yet, simply because Jingak, Cheon Un-gwang, and Dan Cheonyang were killed… was he so enraged by their deaths that he came here alone, risking his life? 

That was what Weiji Mu-a was asking.

“I haven’t repaid it,” Bu Eunseol shook his head. “All three of them bestowed upon me a grace as vast as the heavens, but I have not repaid it.”

The foundation of his swordsmanship was the Hwa Wu style. 

For the sake of the lone, late-arriving Bu Eunseol, Jingak had personally picked up a sword in the Road to Hell and taught him the basics with all his heart. 

Cheon Un-gwang, to ensure he entered the path of high-level swordsmanship correctly, shared his life’s work and showed him the way forward. 

Dan Cheonyang, sensing that Bu Eunseol would reach the pinnacle of the Way of the Sword, provided the bridge for him to interpret and create high-level sword scriptures.

“They taught you not out of grace, but simply because of a treaty with the Majeon,” Weiji Mu-a countered. “The secret techniques Hall Leader Cheon taught weren’t the sect’s arts, but swordsmanship he created personally.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bu Eunseol said firmly. “The fact that I haven’t repaid the debt remains.”

Weiji Mu-a sighed. “Then why did you come alone?”

After a moment of silence, Bu Eunseol whispered, “Because I know what kind of person the Sect Leader is.”

He believed that Weiji Mu-a was generous and possessed the foresight to see ahead. He trusted that Weiji Mu-a would never lead his disciples into danger or stand by as the sect collapsed, but would resolve this situation more wisely than anyone.

“I would like to ask you the same question.”

Weiji Mu-a gave a dry smile. “I simply knew that when someone like you sets out to destroy this sect, you must have a thorough plan.” 

He muttered with a lonely expression, “And currently, there is no one in this sect who can stop your martial arts or your tactics.”

Weiji Mu-a possessed more than enough strength and wisdom to stop Bu Eunseol, but strangely, he was excluding himself from that possibility.

“Besides, haven’t you accomplished everything that was predicted to be impossible?” Weiji Mu-a grinned, showing his white teeth. “Perhaps you even predicted that I would act this way.”

They weren’t master and disciple, and they had only met a few times, yet the two knew each other remarkably well.

A long silence followed, eventually broken by Weiji Mu-a. “What do you intend to do now?”

“I intend to disable the Hwa Wu Sword Sect,” Bu Eunseol said respectfully but firmly. “Until it can return to being the original Hwa Wu Sword Sect, I will ensure it cannot act.”

“The original Hwa Wu Sword Sect…” Weiji Mu-a tilted his head. “Why do something so difficult? It would be easier to just destroy it.”

“I made a promise to Master Jingak,” Bu Eunseol said sadly. “He asked me to preserve the Hwa Wu Sword Sect that he loved.”

“Jingak was an excellent man.” Weiji Mu-a looked at the sky with regret. “Someone like him should have stayed in the sect for a long time.” 

He truly mourned Jingak’s death. 

“If he had been born in an ordinary age, not this chaotic era where the forces of the abyss are rising… he would have surely become the Sect Leader.”

“I agree.”

Bu Eunseol took a deep breath. At this rate, he might be able to restore the sect without a fight. If Weiji Mu-a cooperated, it would certainly be possible.

“Go back.”

But Weiji Mu-a’s response was unexpected. “You cannot destroy this sect. You must not.”

“I have to.”

“Not content with making the Extinction Palace close its gates, you are touching this sect. Do you not know what will happen?”

Bu Eunseol shook his head. “I am aware.”

“You are?”

“I have operated an intelligence organization for a long time. I have realized that there are numerous unknown forces at the foundation of martial world, and I have investigated them.” Bu Eunseol explained calmly. “The more I looked into the abyss, the more things I couldn’t understand.”

A spark of light flickered in his eyes. “There are so many abyssal forces in the martial world, so how could the people of so many sects remain ignorant of them?”

He looked into the empty air, not at Weiji Mu-a. “I wondered… could the reason this is possible be because the forces embedded in that abyss are the ‘real’ ones?”

After a long silence, Weiji Mu-a spoke. “You were always smart. You didn’t avoid trials but chose to clash with them, and I truly liked that about you.”

Smart people tend to avoid trials and rush toward their goals via the easiest path. But Bu Eunseol had never done that. He silently walked the path of thorns and overcame trials one by one. It was easy to say, but humans instinctively seek the comfortable path. Those who knowingly walk a harsh and painful road are extremely rare.

“People with good heads try to avoid trials however they can,” he gave a self-deprecating smile. “Just like me.”

Weiji Mu-a was deep in scholarship and possessed great wisdom, earning him the title of Profound Demon. Whenever a crisis arose, he used his superior intellect to resolve it.

“It is not too late even now,” Bu Eunseol pleaded. “It may seem like going back, but this is the way to return the Hwa Wu Sword Sect to normal.”

“I cannot.” Weiji Mu-a shook his head. “The fact that I met you alone was merely a courtesy because you came to this sect alone.”

“Sect Leader.”

Weiji Mu-a shook his head firmly in warning. “I will not allow you to tear through this sect any further.”

“Is this truly necessary?”

“You speak arrogantly.”

Suddenly, a pure white light flowed from Weiji Mu-a’s eyes. “The question of whether this is necessary…”

In that moment, Bu Eunseol felt the illusion of countless stars rising into the sky simultaneously. A scene of a shimmering galaxy swirling before his eyes unfolded behind Weiji Mu-a’s back. It was as if he had become a god controlling the great flow of time and space, the fundamental laws of creation and destruction of the universe.

“Is a question only I can ask!”

The heaviness of a great mountain supporting the heavens, the massive vibration of an earthquake splitting the earth. The ferocity of a typhoon threatening to swallow everything, and a pressure as silent as the deep abyss but crushing in its weight.

All of it began to pour onto Bu Eunseol.