The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign – Chapter 265

The night grew deeper.

The Shadow Corps members rested in the North Wind Sect, preparing for the upcoming battle.

In Jeongsuje’s study, Bu Eunseol sat with a brush, researching the principles of the Martial Emperor Tranquil Awakening and Wishful True Binding techniques. Combining these two techniques, which had reached the pinnacle of both orthodox and demonic paths, was a journey so arduous it might not be achievable in a lifetime.

Thus, whenever he had time, he studied them diligently.

“Hm.” Pausing his brush, Bu Eunseol glanced toward the open window.

The bright moon hung in the distant sky, and the garden, adorned with exotic flowers, exuded a refined charm.

“I should’ve asked for a bottle of wine.” After sitting in the quiet study for so long, his body felt stiff.

Stepping outside, Bu Eunseol strolled through the garden under the moonlight, arriving at a small pavilion by a pond.

“Frost-covered maple leaves are redder than spring flowers in bloom.”

Instead of a plaque, the pavilion’s pillar bore an engraved verse.

It was a line from the poem “Mountain Journey” by Du Mu, a poet from the late Tang dynasty.

‘Frost-covered maple leaves are redder than spring flowers…’ The delicate yet bold verse stirred a strange excitement in Bu Eunseol.

“Benefactor.” A slender figure emerged from the opposite path, dressed in red robes and carrying a large basket. It was Guyang Cheongjeong.

“What brings you here at this late hour?” Bu Eunseol asked.

She lowered her head slightly. “I thought you might be hungry at night, so I brought some snacks.”

If an ordinary young lady brought wine to a man alone at night, it would be considered outrageously bold. But both Bu Eunseol and Guyang Cheongjeong were martial artists, unconcerned with petty etiquette.

“I’m not sure if it’ll suit your taste,” she said, smiling shyly.

Her basket contained a large bottle of wine, rice cakes, and fruits.

“I was just craving a drink,” Bu Eunseol said, nodding readily.

Overjoyed, Guyang Cheongjeong placed the basket in the pavilion.

“Let me pour you a cup.” Without hesitation, Bu Eunseol downed the wine she poured.

His eyes widened instantly.

The bitter, potent liquid touched his tongue, and as it slid down his throat, a fragrant aroma tickled his nose. He had drunk many wines, but this one was uniquely strong and distinctive.

“Good wine,” Bu Eunseol said, admiring the cup. “What is this? The aroma is quite unique.”

“It’s Qingguoju, a Qinghai specialty. I sometimes have a cup when I can’t sleep at night.”

Guyang Cheongjeong’s eyes curved like crescent moons as she smiled.

In truth, the wine she brought was Baeknyeon Qingguoju, a century-old Qinghai specialty considered the finest of fine wines. It was exorbitantly expensive and so rare that even high-ranking officials couldn’t easily obtain it.

Unaware of this, Bu Eunseol drank it as casually as water.

“It’s truly excellent. You should try some too.”

“I’m fine. I drink it often,” she said, telling a considerate white lie so he could enjoy it freely.

Picking up a fruit, she added, “Sweet fruits pair well with Qingguoju. Try one.”

She offered the fruit so naturally that Bu Eunseol nearly took it without thinking.

“I’ll eat it myself,” he said.

“Alright.” Smiling prettily, Guyang Cheongjeong popped the fruit into her own mouth.

Sitting beside him, she watched him drink with a contented gaze. In less than half an hour, Bu Eunseol emptied the entire bottle of Baeknyeon Qingguoju.

“That was a good drink,” he said.

“You’re welcome.” Smiling brightly, she gestured around the pavilion. “Now that you’ve had a drink, would you like to stroll through Punglim Pavilion? It’s beautiful under the moonlight, perfect for a walk on a full moon night.”

“Sounds good.” The strong wine in his stomach made him feel like walking.

Bu Eunseol strolled side by side with Guyang Cheongjeong through Punglim Pavilion. Even as he admired the flowers shimmering in the moonlight, his mind continuously studied martial techniques.

“Young Master Bu,” Guyang Cheongjeong said cautiously, gazing at the pond.

“May I ask you something?” Noticing her complex expression, Bu Eunseol assumed she wanted to discuss martial techniques or swordsmanship and nodded.

“Ask anything. I’ll answer to the best of my knowledge.”

But her question was entirely unexpected.

“Why did you risk your life to save us, strangers with no prior connection?” A glimmer of anticipation shone in her eyes.

Back then, she had been stubborn and rude to Bu Eunseol, who had rented out an entire guesthouse annex. Yet, he overlooked her rudeness and saved her in a moment of crisis.

‘Could he have feelings for me?’ Since that day, Guyang Cheongjeong had held onto a single thought.

Perhaps Bu Eunseol was drawn to her vibrant beauty?

Maybe he helped her because he felt some affection?

“It was a mere whim,” came his cold, indifferent reply, shattering her hopes.

“A whim…?” she repeated.

“Yes. It was my first time seeing young talents of the Demonic Path.” Bu Eunseol spoke honestly about his feelings at the time. “I was secretly tracking great masters without revealing myself to the martial world. I encountered many people, but that was my first time meeting young prodigies of the Demonic Path.”

Looking at the distant sky with a hint of embarrassment, he continued, “I felt a subtle sense of kinship simply because you all were of the Demonic Path. That’s why I helped you.”

His face, reflected in the moonlight, seemed to glow faintly.

His deep, elongated eyes held a clarity that could draw in one’s soul, yet…

They were untouched by any emotion, utterly indifferent. Unable to bear looking at him, Guyang Cheongjeong lowered her head.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Just… everything.” The greater the expectation, the greater the disappointment.

Realizing Bu Eunseol was an unreachable sky, she felt pain and disillusionment.

“Rest well, then.” She quickly turned and vanished into the darkness.

Bu Eunseol’s eyes showed no emotion as he watched her retreating figure.

Anyone witnessing this might wonder: Did he truly feel nothing? Or had his dedication to the martial path dulled him to others’ affections?

Unless one could peer into his mind, no one could know the answer.

“Hm.” Turning to gaze at the distant sky, Bu Eunseol spoke in a low, stern voice.

“Come out.” There was no response.

Faint specks of light began to rise from his body.

“I won’t say it twice.”

Swish.

Figures emerged one by one from the shadows behind the pavilion.

Myo Cheonwoo, Wi Cheongyeong, Jo Namcheon, Won Semun, and even Yoo Unryong…

They appeared like freshly dug sweet potatoes, one after another.

“All the captains are here,” Bu Eunseol said, his eyes cold. “Were you holding a meeting here?”

A deathly silence hung around the pavilion. Jo Namcheon, glancing nervously, scratched his head.

“Well, they said there was something interesting to see…”

“Something interesting?” Bu Eunseol’s stern gaze gleamed in the darkness. “So I’ve become an amusing spectacle to you now.”

A terrifying aura, capable of toppling mountains and overturning the earth, emanated from him. In a wartime situation, sneaking around the North Wind Sect’s courtyard to spy on him had clearly enraged him.

“No, Captain!” Jo Namcheon, unable to bear the suffocating atmosphere, spoke urgently. “Myo-hyung said there was something fun to see!”

Myo Cheonwoo’s face paled instantly.

“Who told you to follow me?”

“You said there was something fun, so how could we not come? All that’s left now is bloodshed.” Under Bu Eunseol’s stern gaze, Wi Cheongyeong and Won Semun nodded.

“That’s right.”

“We just followed Myo-hyung.”

“You disloyal bastards!” Myo Cheonwoo shouted, furious at being cornered. “To think I trusted you as comrades!”

Pointing accusingly, he yelled in frustration, “Next time something fun happens, I won’t call you! You faithless lot!” With another shout, Myo Cheonwoo vanished into the darkness, slipping away clumsily.

‘That’s one way to escape…’ The remaining captains gaped.

Myo Cheonwoo’s slick exit left even Won Semun, notorious for his roguish ways, in awe.

“…” As silence fell, Jo Namcheon spoke loudly. “This won’t do!”

Glaring at the spot where Myo Cheonwoo disappeared, he shouted, “No matter how skilled he is, how can a junior captain yell at a senior like that? Especially before a battle?”

Rolling up his sleeves, he declared, “It’s time to reorganize the hierarchy!” He dashed off toward where Myo Cheonwoo had gone, mastering the art of evasion in an instant.

Wi Cheongyeong and Won Semun, watching Bu Eunseol cautiously, said gravely, “This looks like it’ll turn into a big fight. We need to stop them.”

“Yeah, we’d better intervene before it gets out of hand.”

They, too, vanished swiftly.

Bu Eunseol let out a hollow sigh.

The upcoming battle would be fiercer than any before.

Now was the time for unity and cohesion. Seeing their seamless coordination, it seemed Myo Cheonwoo and the others had bonded well with the Death Shadow Corps captains.

‘They’ve built strong camaraderie.’ Sighing, Bu Eunseol suddenly turned his head.

Yoo Unryong stood awkwardly, unable to leave.

“Why aren’t you going?” Bu Eunseol asked.

Yoo Unryong’s face flushed. Lacking the boldness of the others, he couldn’t come up with an excuse.

“You…” Under Bu Eunseol’s piercing gaze, Yoo Unryong’s face reddened further. He suddenly shouted, “Why are you picking on me alone?”

Bursting with frustration, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

“…Well learned.”

Shaking his head, Bu Eunseol looked at the spot where Yoo Unryong vanished with a hollow expression.

***

Days later, a figure in black robes rushed into Jeongsuje, where Bu Eunseol was staying.

It was Wi Cheongyeong.

Under Bu Eunseol’s orders, he left the North Wind Sect at dawn daily to contact nearby intelligence networks. Today, he returned like lightning with urgent news.

“Captain!” Wi Cheongyeong, drenched in sweat, burst into the study where Bu Eunseol sat.

In an unprecedentedly urgent voice, he said, “It’s begun!” Panting, he repeated, “The Blood Martial Corps’ main force is currently storming the Black Alliance’s heart.”

Bu Eunseol paused his brush.

He had stayed at the North Wind Sect, waiting for the moment the Blood Martial Corps launched their all-out assault on the Black Alliance. Only when the two forces clashed fiercely could he infiltrate the Black Alliance’s stronghold via the Nujiang River.

“The time has come,” Bu Eunseol said solemnly, standing. “Gather all the members.”

The Nujiang River originates in the Danggorap Mountains of eastern Qinghai, flowing southeast. Its waters mostly pass through steep mountainous terrain, unsuitable for large ships. But near Sword-Rune Plain, a sizable waterway forms, allowing small merchant ships to navigate.

The Black Alliance blocked the entrance to Sword-Rune Plain with chained ships and deployed patrol boats, defending their stronghold while collecting tolls from passing merchant vessels. Even if one passed this checkpoint by luck, a large force couldn’t infiltrate Sword-Rune Plain. The coastal area was fortified with highly trained troops and layered defense mechanisms.

Swish.

A small merchant ship, catching a favorable wind, glided smoothly through the moonlight, cutting through the waves. A flag bearing the character “Pung” (Wind) fluttered on the mainmast alongside the sails.

It was a merchant ship directly operated by the North Wind Sect, one of the Qinghai Seven Sword Sects. Unlike the orthodox factions, the Demonic Path thrives on power and wealth. The North Wind Sect had amassed great wealth through salt smuggling via the Nujiang River.

The Qinghai Seven Sword Sects’ influence in Qinghai for generations was underpinned by the immense wealth from this illicit trade.

Clank.

As the ship neared Sword-Rune Plain, the waterway narrowed sharply.

Chained ships came into view, blocking the passage.

Two swift patrol boats began approaching the North Wind Sect’s ship from both sides.

They were Black Alliance vessels.