The Hwa Wu Sword Sect.
Known as the foremost demonic sect, it was located near the Jinryeong Mountain Range in Stone Gate. The range served as a natural fortress, and the valleys and rivers provided ample resources.
It was an ideal stronghold for a major faction.
Rumble.
A carriage bearing the Twin Dragons vying for the Pearl flag, symbolizing Majeon, rolled along the road, slowing as it approached a massive fortress atop a large hill—the Hwa Wu Sword Sect.
But miles before the entrance, armed warriors blocked the path.
They were the sect’s guards.
“Stop!” The guards halted Bu Eunseol’s carriage.
Neigh.
As the carriage stopped, the lead guard spoke solemnly.
“You must walk from here.”
“What nonsense?” A bearded man in the driver’s seat scowled.
Broad-shouldered, with twin swords on his back and domineering eyes, it was Won Semun.
“This is the carriage of Majeon’s successor, the Martial Soul Command Lord.”
“No exceptions. To enter our sect, you must dismount and walk from here.”
“Walk, leaving a perfectly good carriage?”
“That’s our sect’s rule. Haven’t you heard?” Proving his words, countless demonic martial artists formed a long line, climbing the hill on foot.
“Crazy. Is this Wudang Mountain?”
An ordinary person would have dismounted, but this was Won Semun, Majeon’s greatest ruffian. To him, the sect’s solemn rules were as trivial as a beggar’s chatter.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” As the guard frowned, Won Semun sneered.
“What? Why not make a Sword-Discarding Pool and demand we leave our weapons too?”
“Are you mocking our sect’s rules?”
“Don’t you adjust rules based on the person?” As the guards glared, Won Semun bared his fangs. “Would you tell the Demon Emperor or the Ten Demonic Sect leaders to walk?”
The guards were speechless.
No matter the sect’s rules, they couldn’t apply them to the Demon Emperor, ruler of a million demons, or the Ten Demonic Sect leaders.
“But the Martial Soul Command Lord isn’t the Demon Emperor or a sect leader.” As the guard stammered, Won Semun roared.
“What’s the difference? Even without his successor status, the leader ranks among the top ten in our sect’s protocol!” The guards, flustered by his shouting, exchanged glances.
‘This isn’t right.’ The guards had been ordered to make Bu Eunseol, the Martial Soul Command Lord, dismount and walk.
“He’s refined, so he’ll comply. Let the martial artists ascending to the sect see it.” But contrary to expectations, a mad ruffian was disrupting their plan.
“If your eyes are blind, at least keep your ears open! Telling the leader to walk? Want to die?” As he spewed insults, the guards’ eyes blazed with fury.
“What did you say?”
These were warriors of the foremost demonic sect, their pride unmatched even by Majeon guards.
“Are you picking a fight with our sect?”
Killing intent flickered in the guard’s eyes.
Won Semun roared like thunder. “If you’re a guard dog, act like one! How dare you glare at a person?”
“A dog?” The guards’ faces flushed red.
In all their time as guards, had they ever met such a lunatic?
Creak.
The carriage door opened, and a tall figure stepped out—Bu Eunseol.
“My Lord.” Seeing him, Won Semun waved his hands to stop him. “Stay put. I’ll knock out these arrogant bastards’ teeth and drive the carriage in no time.”
“Enough.” Bu Eunseol waved his hand. “When in another’s land, follow their customs.”
“My Lord.”
“It’s the sect leader’s celebration. Let’s not cause a scene and head up.”
The guards’ expressions twisted. The madman escalated the situation, and the Martial Soul Command Lord played along, maintaining his dignity.
Now, even walking wouldn’t tarnish his prestige.
‘So petty.’ Bu Eunseol inwardly clicked his tongue at the guards.
The Hwa Wu Sword Sect, the foremost demonic sect, led by the Profound Demon, a Three Demon master of the Infinite Realm.
Yet they resorted to such base tactics? Even the chief instructor, Sword Demon Wi Hyeok-gun, had unleashed invisible energy on Bu Eunseol, fresh from Hell Island training. Hadn’t he tried to ban Bu Eunseol from wielding a sword for mastering Cheon Un-gwang’s Unmatched Thunderbolt?
“The Hwa Wu Sword Sect always plays dirty. From the moment you arrive, they’ll try to undermine your dignity.” Yoo Unryong’s prediction was spot-on.
And Bu Eunseol’s solution was Won Semun.
Won Semun, fearless of heaven or earth, was a true ruffian. Even with a blade at his throat, his brash nature wouldn’t waver.
He was perfect for countering the sect’s petty schemes.
‘And there’s something only Won Semun can do.’ As Bu Eunseol smiled faintly, lost in thought—
“Since the leader says so, consider yourselves spared!” Won Semun was still berating the guards.
They avoided his gaze, speechless.
“Keep this carriage safe!” Dissatisfied with their attitude, Won Semun roared again. “If there’s a single scratch, I’ll pull your teeth for each one. Got it?”
The guards trembled with rage but didn’t dare retort.
“Understood.” Not out of fear of Won Semun, but because the world-shaking Martial Soul Command Lord stood behind him.
“What are you staring at? Guide the leader already!” At Won Semun’s shout, a guard on the left bit his lip and gestured.
“Follow me.”
Bu Eunseol and Won Semun followed the guard into the sect.
The guard led them up the hill. A wide road reminiscent of a capital city and ornate halls came into view.
The Hwa Wu Sword Sect, with ten thousand warriors, resembled a miniature Majeon.
‘Truly, the Hwa Wu Sword Sect.’
Never losing its status as the foremost demonic sect since its founding. As if to prove it, the sect’s interior exuded grandeur and solemnity, with passing warriors radiating sharp energy.
‘I’ll soon find out.’
Bu Eunseol’s eyes narrowed.
This visit would reveal the sect’s situation, long veiled in mystery. Whether their pettiness, unbefitting the foremost demonic sect, stemmed from the Profound Demon’s orders or Wi Hyeok-gun’s narrow-mindedness.
“Climb that path.” The guard pointed to an open hall where martial artists lined up like a snake.
They were martial artists bringing gifts for the Profound Demon, Weiji Mu-a’s seventieth celebration.
The line stretched endlessly from outside the gate to the interior. Inside, a banquet was underway, packed with high-ranking figures rarely seen even in Majeon.
It felt like the second Majeon, as rumors suggested.
‘Indeed.’ The saying that the Demon Emperor rules Majeon, but the Hwa Wu Sword Sect leader rules the martial world, wasn’t baseless.
“Martial Soul Command Lord.” A middle-aged man radiating sharp energy, followed by a dozen disciples, stood behind Bu Eunseol.
Wi Hyeok-gun.
The Sword Demon, inheritor of the title of the foremost demonic swordsman.
The petty man who unleashed invisible energy on Bu Eunseol during Hell Island for refusing to join the sect.
“It’s been a while, Chief Instructor.” Bu Eunseol casually clasped his hands, as if greeting a passing elder.
Wi Hyeok-gun’s thick eyebrows twitched.
“I’ve lamented hearing your fame shake the martial world—missing you in Hell Island.” His words were polite, but his eyes showed no warmth.
Far from praise, they glinted with contempt.
‘How can such a man be the Sword Demon?’ Bu Eunseol sighed inwardly.
In the demonic path, the title Sword Demon was bestowed on exceptional swordsmen.
Once held by Weiji Mu-a, the sect leader, it now belonged to Wi Hyeok-gun. But how could this petty, narrow-minded man reach the pinnacle of swordsmanship?
“You brought something, I see. No need for that.”
Bu Eunseol glanced at the bundle held by Won Semun, standing like an attendant. “How could I come to the sect leader’s birthday empty-handed?”
“Hand it over. I’ll ensure it reaches the sect leader.” His tone suggested he’d rip open the bundle immediately.
It seemed he came to personally inspect Bu Eunseol’s gift.
“Understood.” Knowing his intent, Bu Eunseol ordered Won Semun. “Give it to the chief instructor.”
“Yes.” Won Semun bowed and handed the bundle to Wi Hyeok-gun.
“Hmm.” Feeling the bundle, Wi Hyeok-gun’s eyes gleamed.
‘Could it be?’ He recognized the unique shape of a dagger.
‘The Seven-Finger Demon Blade’s…?’ As a sword master, Wi Hyeok-gun could discern a dagger’s form and material just by touch.
“Guide the leader to the banquet hall in Coral Pavilion.” His expression changed, and he ordered a disciple beside him.
He lightly clasped his hands toward Bu Eunseol.
“Enjoy the banquet.” With that, he hurried inside without looking back.
Bu Eunseol’s eyes narrowed, watching him. He was likely rushing to deliver the gift to the sect leader himself.
‘The die is cast.’ Turning, Bu Eunseol followed the guiding disciple into the hall with Won Semun.
But something was off.
Instead of passing through the hall with demonic martial masters, they were led to another banquet hall.
“Where are we going?” Won Semun asked, and the disciple replied. “The chief instructor ordered me to guide you to Coral Pavilion.”
The disciple led them to another banquet hall in full swing.
No prominent demonic martial artists were present.
Instead, portly middle-aged men were guzzling drinks.
“There you go.” The disciple clasped his hands and left hurriedly.
The people inside blinked at Bu Eunseol and Won Semun’s arrival.
“Sit for now.”
Bu Eunseol exchanged light greetings and took a seat inside.
The middle-aged men, drawn to Bu Eunseol’s striking appearance and dignity, approached with goodwill. But when Won Semun, looking like a bandit, glared, they retreated, smacking their lips.
“This seems like a place for merchants.” The men were discussing imperial affairs, tea leaf prices, or furs.
“My Lord, just wait a moment.” Won Semun, frowning, rolled up his sleeves. “I’ll turn this place upside down and get us to the proper banquet hall.”
“No need.”
“No way.” Won Semun was a ruffian, not brainless.
He said firmly. “If word spreads that you sat drinking with merchants, they’ll start weird rumors to humiliate you.”
Bu Eunseol filled a cup with liquor and shook his head.
“They won’t.”
“Why not?”
“The sect leader will soon request a private meeting.”
“The Hwa Wu Sword Sect leader?”
“Yes.” Won Semun couldn’t understand.
The sect was deliberately slighting Bu Eunseol. Yet Weiji Mu-a, who rarely appeared even within the sect, would request a private meeting?
“Drink. Your throat must be dry from the long journey.”
“Huh?”
“You’ll drink at some point anyway.” Bu Eunseol smiled, and Won Semun’s lips twitched.
Loosening his belt, Won Semun chugged from a liquor bottle.
Gulp, gulp.
He didn’t overthink and trusted Bu Eunseol’s cunning implicitly. And he had a secret mission, didn’t he?
“The liquor’s gone!” Having emptied the bottles on the table, he shouted for the attendants. “This lord has a big capacity, so bring twenty bottles!”
The attendants, intimidated by his tiger-like face, hurriedly brought bottles.
“I’ll pour you one, my Lord.” Won Semun respectfully poured for Bu Eunseol.
“No need to drink so fast.” Bu Eunseol smiled faintly and said calmly. “There’s plenty of liquor.”
Even so, few would dare drink leisurely in the Hwa Wu Sword Sect. But Won Semun could guzzle drinks fearlessly, even in hell.
“True enough, hahaha!” Laughing heartily, Won Semun chugged from the bottle.
Gulp, gulp.
With Bu Eunseol’s permission, he drank without restraint.
The sect’s liquor was White Serpent Wine from Stone Gate’s renowned Eastern Liquor House, costing over twenty nyang per bottle. Yet Won Semun downed twenty bottles in less than half an hour, shocking the attendants.
“No one in the Hwa Wu Sword Sect drinks? Forget these tiny bottles—bring a whole barrel!” The attendants looked troubled but, meeting his fierce eyes, reluctantly brought a barrel of White Serpent Wine.
Step, step.
Two black-robed sect disciples hurried in and clasped their hands to Bu Eunseol.
“My Lord, the sect leader requests a private meeting.” Won Semun, drinking, widened his eyes.
‘It’s real?’ Standing, Bu Eunseol sent a voice transmission to Won Semun.
“Drink your fill and follow my instructions. No need to be reckless.”
“Don’t worry, sir.”
Bu Eunseol nodded to the disciples.
“Lead the way.”
In the sect’s rear garden was a small hill. Climbing a steep path, a small house surrounded by a stone fence came into view. Bathed in languid sunlight, the house exuded a faint tea fragrance.
From afar, it resembled a quaint tea pavilion. But its resident was the leader of the demonic path’s most powerful faction, one of its top five masters.
This was the abode of the Hwa Wu Sword Sect leader, Weiji Mu-a.
‘Unexpected.’
The leader of the demonic path’s strongest faction lived alone in such a modest house? Especially during his seventieth celebration?
“There you go.” The disciples who guided Bu Eunseol clasped their hands and left.
“Hmm.” Surveying his surroundings, Bu Eunseol took a deep breath and entered the fenced area slowly.
“…!” His eyes widened slightly.
Stepping inside felt like entering another world.
‘It’s just a step inside a fence, yet it feels completely cut off from the mundane…’ Bu Eunseol realized this wasn’t due to formations or special powers.
It was the presence of the house’s occupant.
“Come in.” A low voice came from inside.
Not an old man’s, but a refined scholar reciting poetry.
“Enter.” The gentle, low voice continued, and Bu Eunseol responded respectfully.
“I’ll come in.” He cautiously opened the door and entered.
The interior was surprisingly spacious, with a kettle and brazier for boiling water at the center. Shelves held neatly stored dried tea leaves in porcelain jars.
‘He must love tea.’ The cool, dark space was ideal for storing tea.
Weiji Mu-a, the Hwa Wu Sword Sect leader, likely built this house for enjoying tea.
Slurp.
Despite inviting him in, the host ignored Bu Eunseol, eyes closed, sipping tea.
‘That’s the Profound Demon.’
The Profound Demon, Weiji Mu-a.
Wearing a long robe reaching his knees, tied with a dark blue sash. If he held a fan instead of a teacup, one might mistake him for the sect’s chief instructor.
Expected to have a demonic appearance as one of the Three Demons, he exuded a scholarly aura instead.
