“What is it?” Myo Cheonwoo asked urgently.
Yoo Unryong replied with a forceful tone, “That guy’s a lunatic who can’t understand others’ emotions at all.”
“Huh?” Myo Cheonwoo, unable to hide his disbelief, said, “Don’t all lunatics fail to understand others’ feelings?”
“No, it’s completely different,” Yoo Unryong said, a faint smile on his lips. “He’s a lunatic who pretends to be sane.”
“Pretends to be sane…?” Myo Cheonwoo pondered for a moment, then furrowed his brow and shook his head. “Even if that’s true, how can you be sure? It might not be certain.”
“A month ago, the Divine Might Corps, led by the Heavenly Sword, attacked a branch of the Blood Poison Sect,” Yoo Unryong continued calmly. “When he saw a subordinate writhing in pain from a poison dart, he tried to help by using telekinesis to rip it out instantly.”
The poison dart, a solidified hidden weapon crafted by the Blood Poison Sect, had barbs that curled like fishhooks upon impact. Removing it required carefully cutting the barbs and extracting it gently. But the Heavenly Sword, in an attempt to save his subordinate, tore it out forcefully.
“Isn’t that just a cruel personality?” Myo Cheonwoo asked.
Yoo Unryong nodded. “If it were just that incident, you might think so. But something similar happened when he dealt with the Red Blade Sect.”
“What happened?”
“There was a fire in a village, but he ignored it, saying they needed to reach the Red Blade Sect quickly before they could fortify their defenses.”
Yoo Unryong spoke with confidence. “We investigated many of his actions. His ruthless and fearless nature stems from his inability to understand others’ emotions.”
Realizing the implication, Bu Eunseol nodded faintly. He had suspected the Heavenly Sword lacked proper empathy, but Yoo Unryong’s thorough investigation confirmed he couldn’t empathize, not just that he didn’t. The distinction was significant. If accurate, Bu Eunseol could devise numerous strategies to bring him down.
“It’s certain,” Yoo Unryong said, as if reading Bu Eunseol’s thoughts. “You probably sensed it too.”
Yoo Unryong’s strategic abilities had fully blossomed, his personality and analytical skills equally sharp. His conclusions, based on long scrutiny of the Heavenly Sword’s actions, were likely flawless.
“I see,” Bu Eunseol said, nodding.
Yoo Unryong continued, “Moreover, for some reason, he’s burning with ambition to earn merits.”
“He’s aiming for a sect leader position,” Bu Eunseol said matter-of-factly. “If he achieves that, he’ll be untouchable.”
The Heavenly Sword was tirelessly building merits to become a sect leader, beyond Bu Eunseol’s reach. Majeon and Martial Alliance, two colossal forces, rarely clashed directly. Sect leaders, being top executives, were untouchable to avoid sparking an all-out war.
“I hope our investigation was thorough enough,” Yoo Unryong said, his expression tinged with concern.
“It’s more than enough,” Bu Eunseol replied, nodding. Yoo Unryong’s analysis of the Heavenly Sword’s nature allowed him to refine his plans, streamlining his original twelve-step strategy into five.
“Hmm,” Yoo Unryong murmured, stroking his chin. He couldn’t predict how Bu Eunseol would bring down the Heavenly Sword, but he knew Bu Eunseol always executed layered plans that pierced his enemies’ psyche, trapping them in inescapable quagmires.
“I’ll drag that lunatic down step by step,” Bu Eunseol said, a cold smile spreading as a chilling glint flickered in his eyes. “Until he can no longer stand in the Martial Alliance.”
***
With the Nangyang Pavilion, Affectionate Blossom Sect’s intelligence network, and Majeon’s elite Nine Deaths Squad under his command, Bu Eunseol’s intelligence capabilities rivaled the Shadow Pavilion, Majeon’s top intelligence unit.
Capturing the Heavenly Sword wasn’t just his personal mission—it was a battle for the ten demon warriors and the greater cause. With the Shadow Pavilion’s cooperation, Bu Eunseol wielded the greatest intelligence network in the demonic path.
This allowed him to predict the Heavenly Sword’s next move instantly: the Poison Slaughter Sect. A vile assassin sect that killed even children for money, their atrocities had grown intolerable.
The Martial Alliance had tried multiple times to eradicate them, but their base in the deep valleys of Wolbaek Mountain was accessible only by a single chain bridge, designed to support just one person’s weight. If any force approached, they’d cut the bridge.
The Martial Alliance once planned to destroy the bridge to isolate them, but an unexpected force intervened—the Green Forest Bandits.
“This area around Wolbaek Mountain is under the Southern River Bandits’ control. The Martial Alliance should stay out.”
Though the Green Forest dared not openly defy the Alliance, Wolbaek Mountain was a remote region far from the central plains, devoid of righteous sects and dominated by the bandits’ influence. With the Poison Slaughter Sect paying vast sums to the Green Forest annually, they fiercely blocked the Alliance’s interference. Thus, the Poison Slaughter Sect, fortified in their natural stronghold, wreaked havoc on the martial world with the Green Forest’s backing.
The Heavenly Sword aimed to destroy them to earn more merits.
***
“Here we are.”
A towering figure arrived before Wolbaek Mountain, home of the Poison Slaughter Sect. With a bear-like build and a massive greatsword on his back, it was the Heavenly Sword.
“Time to stretch my limbs.” Grinning, he tilted his head. He had brought his elite Divine Might Corps, but upon reaching the mountain’s vicinity, he ordered them to stay at a nearby inn.
“Stay here.” The corps members were stunned. They had traveled far to eradicate the Poison Slaughter Sect, only to be told to wait? “If you go to Wolbaek Mountain, they’ll sense it and cut the bridge. I’ll handle it alone.”
Frowning, they asked, “If you planned to go alone, why bring us?” They knew his prowess was formidable, but why drag the corps along?
“I’d get scolded if I went alone. The Alliance wouldn’t permit it.”
As a corps captain, he couldn’t act solo without his corps, so he’d brought them reluctantly, admitting it shamelessly. The members bit their lips, exchanging glances. Even as the Sword Venerable’s disciple, treating his subordinates like baggage was outrageous.
“I’ll be back.” Ignoring their reactions, the Heavenly Sword headed to the mountain alone.
“Sorry, but I don’t have much time,” he muttered, recalling his corps’ expressions. He needed to earn merits quickly to climb to a higher position—specifically, the youngest sect leader.
“Being a corps captain is nice, but it’s not a sect leader.” A first-tier leader wasn’t a low position, but it wasn’t permanent and could be demoted based on merits or faults. A sect leader, however, was secure unless they committed unforgivable crimes or major corruption triggering a ten-sect council. They also had near-unlimited authority, comparable to a sword corps commander.
“Once I’m a sect leader, that guy will be burning with frustration,” the Heavenly Sword said, picturing Bu Eunseol’s cold face, his eyes curving into crescents. If he became a sect leader, Bu Eunseol would have no choice but to abandon his position as Majeon’s heir to pursue revenge.
“Heh heh heh. Hahaha!” Imagining Bu Eunseol’s enraged eyes, the Heavenly Sword burst into gleeful laughter. As the Sword Venerable’s disciple, he had never met anyone who challenged his temper or skill. But now, he’d found a worthy rival in the demonic path—a figure whose eyes burned with the same indiscriminate madness as his own.
“Fun. So much fun.”
Licking his lips with a rapturous expression, the Heavenly Sword saw the world as neither bright nor dark, just gray. But meeting Bu Eunseol had restored vibrant colors to his life, replacing boredom with thrilling tension. As Majeon’s heir, Bu Eunseol had the power to take his head at any moment.
“When will he give up everything?” Humming, the Heavenly Sword moved swiftly. “A year? No, half a year? By then, he’ll have to abandon it all.”
The position of Majeon’s heir was like the sun in the sky. The Heavenly Sword would drag Bu Eunseol down from that height into the abyss, a spectacle that would bring unparalleled ecstasy.
“Here we are.” With a gust-like movement, he stood before the chain bridge leading to the Poison Slaughter Sect.
“Let’s get started.” Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, fusing body and spirit to heighten his senses, reflexes, and sword energy for the battle ahead.
‘Hmm?’ Something was off. As he sharpened his senses, faint groans and the clash of weapons echoed from the opposite cliff.
‘Could it be?’ Sensing danger, the Heavenly Sword prepared to cross the chain bridge in one leap.
Swish.
A dark figure emerged from the opposite cliff, clad in black robes soaked in blood, a pitch-black sword on his back.
“You…!” The Heavenly Sword’s eyes widened. It was none other than his rival, Bu Eunseol.
Clank, clank.
Bu Eunseol walked across the swaying chain bridge as if it were solid ground, stopping before the Heavenly Sword.
Smirk.
With a cold sneer, Bu Eunseol turned and brushed past him without a word.
“What a coincidence,” the Heavenly Sword said with a wide grin.
But Bu Eunseol continued walking, as if he hadn’t heard.
“Heh heh heh.” Watching Bu Eunseol’s retreating figure, the Heavenly Sword grinned, but sparks flared in his eyes. “So you’re sabotaging me this way?”
As Majeon’s heir, Bu Eunseol’s intelligence network rivaled the Martial Alliance’s chief strategist, perhaps even surpassing it.
“But too bad. There are plenty of other ways to earn merits.”
With a mocking smile, the Heavenly Sword turned away nonchalantly.
***
Yong Mugang, the Flower-Plucking Bandit. Born into wealth, he reveled in violating daughters of affluent families. With a sturdy build, decent looks, exceptional martial arts, and swift movement techniques, he could have succeeded as a martial artist or mercenary if he’d chosen differently.
Instead, he chose crime for pleasure. Over the past five years, he had committed countless atrocities across the martial world, yet evaded capture due to his original profession as a thief.
A disciple of the famed Lone Thief, Yong Mugang planned meticulously for each crime, accounting for countless contingencies and preparing multiple escape routes. His innate animalistic instincts allowed him to elude pursuers and survive.
“Capture Yong Mugang!” Recently, the righteous martial world was in an uproar to catch him. His latest victim was Wang Seoeon, a lay disciple of the Emei Sect and daughter of the wealthy Wangun from Jinan.
After being violated by Yong Mugang, she took her own life. Enraged, the Emei Sect mobilized disciples to pursue him but failed to find him, eventually seeking the Martial Alliance’s aid.
“Find that vile bandit!”
The Alliance deployed over ten sword corps to track him, and numerous mercenaries joined the hunt for bounties. Yet, Yong Mugang, sensing the situation, vanished. Even the Alliance’s intelligence networks and skilled investigators failed to catch him.
Yeonjubu, Nonggahong. This area was home to a village of disabled and deaf people. Though it appeared ordinary, Nonggahong was the stronghold of the Crippled Sect, a martial faction.
Despite their disabilities, the sect wielded considerable influence, rivaling major factions. Members, united by their conditions, gathered information across the central plains, selling it at high prices and engaging in various ventures.
Inside a shabby thatched hut in the heart of Nonggahong, a man leaned against the wall, drinking.
Glug, glug.
His build was robust, his appearance handsome, but dark circles shadowed his eyes, and a sinister glint lingered in his narrow gaze. Even a bold man might avert his eyes from such an eerie presence. It was Yong Mugang, the Flower-Plucking Bandit.
“I’ll need to stay another month,” he muttered, staring boredly into the air.
Before becoming the Lone Thief’s disciple, he had been a member of the Crippled Sect. Ignored by most martial factions, the sect did anything for money.
After learning martial arts and thievery, Yong Mugang used the sect’s widespread branches as hideouts. Authorities rarely searched a community of disabled people, fearing backlash if nothing was found.
“Do they even know about the Crippled Sect?” he sneered, lying back. “The Alliance and Emei won’t pursue me for more than a month.”
He smirked. Factions rarely chased criminals doggedly. Destroying rival sects brought fame, influence, and profit, but expending resources on one criminal wasn’t cost-effective.
“With Jincheon Hall offering bounties, the Alliance stepped in. But in time, only mercenaries chasing the reward will remain.”
Glug, glug.
Finishing the bottle, Yong Mugang lay down comfortably. In a month, the pursuit would wane, and he’d return to wreaking havoc in the martial world.
“That was quite something,” he said, licking his lips as he recalled Wang Seoeon. He’d targeted her, a lay disciple of the Nine Great Sects, because her beauty was irresistible. “Why’d she take her own life? If she’d lived, I’d have visited her again.”
A low voice came from the opposite direction. “You can find her in the afterlife.”
Yong Mugang’s skin crawled. As the Lone Thief’s heir, his senses were sharper than most martial artists, yet he hadn’t noticed someone entering the room.
‘Move rashly, and I’m dead.’
Swallowing hard, he heard the figure speak softly, “No need to tense up. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be gone.”
Yong Mugang quickly turned. A man in gray robes stood there, his face strikingly beautiful, but his eyes glowed red and cold, like a reaper’s. The contrast between his beauty and terrifying gaze sparked an inexplicable fear.
