“Young Master Namgung, what happened?” Mak Hong exclaimed, rushing forward in shock at Namgung Un’s battered state.
Splatter.
As Namgung Un opened his mouth, a gush of crimson blood poured out.
“The demonic path… intends to assassinate the sect leader,” he said, trembling as he pointed at Haepung.
Mak Hong’s eyes widened in disbelief. “What are you talking about?”
“He’s conspiring with demonic path spies…” But before he could finish, Namgung Un fainted.
“Young Master Namgung!” Mak Hong, alarmed, placed a hand on his back and infused inner energy.
‘This…’
Namgung Un’s body bore marks not only of the Beggars’ Sect’s supreme technique, the Dragon-Subduing Eighteen Palms, but also traces of the Jade-Shattering Fist, Golden Mountain Hand, and other sect techniques.
‘The Dragon-Subduing Eighteen Palms can only be used by mastering the Lesser Flea Mind Method,’ Mak Hong thought, turning to Haepung. Though the details were unclear, it was certain a master deeply versed in the sect’s techniques had attacked Namgung Un.
“Deputy Leader!” Mak Hong roared. “What is this? Are you truly colluding with the demonic path?”
Haepung was beside himself with frustration. He had only promised to set a perimeter and not pursue Bu Eunseol, yet now a Southern Palace scion was accusing him of a demonic path conspiracy?
‘This is bad.’ Haepung gritted his teeth. If his deal with the demonic path’s heir was exposed, even if he seized control of the sect, he’d lose the disciples’ loyalty. Worse, if the artificial energy cores were revealed, the sect would have to shut its doors.
“Elder Mak! You’re framing me by colluding with external forces!” Haepung shouted, taking the initiative. “Arrest Elder Mak and escort him to the headquarters!”
With only Mak Hong and a Southern Palace member as adversaries, Haepung opted for the easiest way to silence them.
“As expected of the traitor who killed our supreme elder,” Mak Hong retorted loudly. “Disciples of the Eight Paths, listen! Subdue the traitor Haepung and restore the sect’s honor!”
‘What?’
As Haepung reeled in shock, a thunderous sound of footsteps echoed from the mountain’s base. Over two thousand troops were ascending—Mak Hong had brought his entire force, heeding Namgung Un’s advice.
“No need for words! Attack!” Mak Hong commanded.
The Eight Paths disciples drew their long staffs. Haepung’s and Mak Hong’s core forces clashed at the foot of Cheonhwa Villa.
“Charge!” The battle began with a unified battle cry.
The Beggars’ Sect, swayed by its leaders, had faced division and turmoil for generations. But never had fellow disciples fought a bloody battle like this.
‘The sect’s survival hinges on this fight,’ both Haepung and Mak Hong thought simultaneously.
For Haepung, failing to stop Mak Hong would expose his misdeeds, leaving him no choice but to take his own life. For Mak Hong, failing to repel Haepung’s attack meant immediate annihilation. Moreover, he had to defeat Haepung to prevent the sect’s scandals from spreading across the martial world.
The two factions began a desperate, unyielding battle.
***
On a cliff overlooking Cheonhwa Villa, a black-robed figure stood with arms crossed, watching the clash below. It was Bu Eunseol.
“They’ll destroy themselves,” he said with a sneer.
The sect was already divided, and its irreversible sins had sealed its fate. Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un had merely hastened its demise.
Rustle.
Namgung Un, who had feigned unconsciousness and slipped away from the battlefield, returned to Bu Eunseol’s side.
“The sect is finished,” he said, shaking his head as he looked at the fighting below. “These are the sect’s greatest forces, yet they’re annihilating each other. It’ll take decades for the sect to recover.”
“Do you pity them?” Bu Eunseol asked.
Namgung Un shook his head. “Maybe I would have before, but not now.”
He spoke firmly. “They reap what they sow.”
Namgung Un’s perspective had shifted. He no longer believed the righteous faction was inherently just. What mattered was the heart of the person acting.
“I don’t understand why the martial world is divided into righteous and demonic paths. The path lies in one’s heart.”
‘He’s different from the Bullet King,’ Bu Eunseol thought. The Bullet King was fiercely proud of the righteous faction and blindly believed in it. But while Namgung Un took pride in his faction, he wasn’t blinded by it and held no prejudice against the demonic path. After this experience with Bu Eunseol, the concept of righteous versus demonic had grown faint.
“Where there’s a starting point, there’s an endpoint. Where there’s right, there’s wrong,” Bu Eunseol said, sighing and shaking his head. “Perhaps humans are born to choose between two paths.”
Namgung Un felt dizzy. Concepts he’d never considered swirled in his mind.
“I guess I can’t walk the path of a grand master like you, Brother Bu,” he said with a grin. “I don’t want to ponder things like right, wrong, or life and death.”
If Bu Eunseol was a philosopher with superhuman insight into all phenomena, Namgung Un was an exceptional individual who understood his own limits. Knowing he lacked Bu Eunseol’s abilities, he chose to focus only on what he could comprehend.
“That’s a good approach,” Bu Eunseol said, smiling.
Not every human needed to ponder phenomena and principles like he did. Judging what one sees and feels wisely was enough to gain insight and truth.
“Shall we go?” Namgung Un asked, his eyes deepened with newfound understanding.
Bu Eunseol nodded and unleashed his movement technique.
At the heart of Cheonhwa Villa stood an open pavilion. A figure with hands clasped behind his back gazed at the scenery. Dressed in pristine white robes, his silver hair was tied in a topknot. His eyes, staring at the distant sky, were deeply somber.
It was Nobong, the current Beggars’ Sect leader.
“Hm,” he let out a low groan.
Swish.
Two dark figures appeared before the pavilion. One, clad in black, carried a dark sword on his back; the other, in blue, wore a slender longsword at his waist. Bu Eunseol and Namgung Un.
“So it comes to this,” Nobong said, unsurprised by their arrival. “I shouldn’t have fed those energy cores to children meant to be assassins.”
Remarkably, Nobong had deduced that the secret of the artificial energy cores was exposed through the children Bu Eunseol rescued from Sahyang. This was proof he hadn’t been holed up in the villa but had been closely monitoring the martial world’s affairs.
“They ended up in Nangyang Pavilion,” he added, slowly turning.
Known to be bedridden, Nobong stood tall, brimming with vitality. Dressed not as a sect leader but like a wealthy Kaifeng merchant in fine white robes, he had clearly neglected his duties, manipulating the sect in perfect health.
“A spy can become a sect leader, it seems,” Bu Eunseol said, instantly recognizing Nobong as a spy infiltrating the sect.
The energy flowing from him wasn’t from the sect’s techniques or even righteous faction martial arts. A faint divine light, seen only in masters who opened their upper dantian, glimmered at his brow—a clear sign he had mastered exceptional martial arts before joining the sect.
“Not quite. I became sect leader because I was a spy,” Nobong said with a faint smile, unfazed by Bu Eunseol’s mockery. “How else could I adapt to this filthy, useless system and gain the support of those foolish elders?”
Namgung Un sighed in relief inwardly. The sect wasn’t corrupt; it had been seized by this treacherous spy. But Nobong’s next words shattered his hopes.
“The sect has long been run by greedy old men,” Nobong said with a triumphant smile. “Controlling the former leader, Sangguan, and the elders was easy. A taste of sweetness, and none refused.”
Clang.
Bu Eunseol, listening silently, drew his dark sword.
Nobong blinked, surprised. “You’re not going to ask anything?”
“…”
“Why I did this, or who and what forces stand above me as sect leader?”
Bu Eunseol said coldly, “Someone who spills such secrets wouldn’t have reached your position.”
Nobong smiled faintly. “You’re fated to die anyway. Dead men don’t talk, so I could share any secret, couldn’t I?”
“A spy capable of leading the sect would sow chaos with their dying breath,” Bu Eunseol said, aiming his sword at Nobong’s throat with a sneer. “Trying to land a fatal blow on the enemy until the end.”
“Hahaha, you know spies well,” Nobong laughed heartily. “Exactly. A true spy spreads disinformation even in death.”
His words cut off as a venomous aura emanated from him, accompanied by a foul stench.
“Blood Emperor,” Bu Eunseol said, realizing Nobong’s true identity—a descendant of the Blood Emperor, one of the Eight Emperors and Three Stars.
“That’s how you seized the sect.”
The Blood Emperor’s techniques drained the victim’s blood, leaving them as if sucked dry. However, using the techniques also depleted the user’s blood, requiring replenishment. The sect, overflowing with disciples who barely knew each other, was the perfect source.
“So the rumor that animal blood could replenish it was a lie,” Bu Eunseol said.
“Heh heh heh,” Nobong sneered. “As rumored, you’re sharp.”
He nodded, admitting it. “To use the Goat Horn Technique or the Eternal Vortex Lightning, human blood is essential.”
“So, except for the Martial Emperor, all Eight Emperors and Three Stars are corrupt,” Bu Eunseol muttered.
“Corrupt?” Nobong’s eyes gleamed with dark intent. “You know nothing.”
He gave a cryptic look. “No need to explain though.”
Snap.
With a snap of his fingers, the surroundings darkened. Young warriors, their eyes glowing with bloodlust, formed a human wall around the pavilion. Over a hundred in number, they exuded immense power from consuming Demon Seeds, though their gazes were vacant—puppets, like those Bu Eunseol had faced before.
“This should suffice to deal with the Namgung boy,” Nobong said.
Astonishingly, despite knowing the situation, Nobong had prepared puppets only for Namgung Un.
“You were waiting to face me,” Bu Eunseol said, grasping the situation.
Nobong smirked. “Face you? That’s an odd way to put it. Killing a brat like you is nothing to me.”
He scanned Bu Eunseol, lips curling. “I was curious how someone so great could interfere with our plans and still survive.”
Remarkably, Nobong had been waiting to kill Bu Eunseol himself.
“Our plans?” Bu Eunseol echoed.
Nobong only smiled—a strange smile, impossible to discern as truth or lie. As a spy who had controlled the sect for years, his words could be entirely false or designed to seem false despite being true. In short, they were untrustworthy, likely meant to sow confusion.
“Sect Leader Nobong,” Namgung Un interjected, stepping forward. “You’ve held the leadership for so long. Even so, is it right to sacrifice innocent sect disciples?”
Nobong, a spy from the start, wouldn’t be swayed. If he became leader to drain blood, he’d view disciples’ lives as worthless. Yet Namgung Un called him sect leader, urging him to consider the sect one last time, hoping he might spare the disciples.
“The Southern Palace will prosper for another two hundred years,” Nobong said, praising Namgung Un’s heroic qualities. “They’re meant to be killed for energy cores. It’s not a sacrifice.”
He planned to have these youths die by Namgung Un’s hand to create more cores.
“Even if you have no attachment to the sect, can’t you distinguish right from wrong?” Namgung Un pressed.
“Judging right and wrong is for trivial matters,” Nobong said, sighing oddly at Namgung Un. “Great matters don’t allow such distinctions. You’ll understand when you lead the Southern Palace.”
With that, he snapped his fingers, signaling the end of the conversation.
Snap.
The hundred-plus puppets aimed their grotesque blades at Namgung Un.
“Now you must decide,” Nobong said with a sly smile. “These puppets, stripped of their souls and obeying killing orders after consuming Demon Seeds—are you sure killing them is right?”
Namgung Un’s eyes wavered. Nobong’s words struck his psyche, shaking his sense of right and wrong, much like Bullet King’s values had been rattled.
With deft oratory, Nobong was unsettling Namgung Un’s spirit.
“Enough talk,” Bu Eunseol said, moving to attack.
Nobong spoke leisurely. “Let’s get to the point.”
“The point?”
“You’re too valuable to just kill,” Nobong said in a low voice. “Join our order. I’ll give you power and status far beyond the demonic path’s heir.”
‘The order he mentioned isn’t a lie,’ Bu Eunseol thought, his eyes glinting.
Nobong scoffed. “Don’t think you can infiltrate to dig up secrets. Joining our order requires many procedures and tests.”
He continued, “Here’s the first test: if you want to join, kill the Namgung boy.”
He spoke as if it were obvious. “What’s it matter if the demonic path’s heir kills a Namgung scion?”
“You learned the wrong way to negotiate, or you didn’t research me well,” Bu Eunseol retorted.
“Don’t you have desires?” Nobong said, smiling at Bu Eunseol’s piercing gaze. “Join us, and you’ll learn everything you want to know.”
“Everything I want to know?”
“Yes,” Nobong said with a confident smile. “Haven’t you been searching for the Seven-Finger Demon Blade?”
“Is he alive?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“Don’t test me,” Nobong replied with a leisurely smile. “Joining us means accessing all the information you seek. Telling you this is already exceptional treatment.”
“Fair enough,” Bu Eunseol said, nodding and gripping his dark sword. “Let’s begin.”
He had no intention of joining an unknown order or killing Namgung Un for information.
“What a pity,” Nobong said, shaking his head with genuine regret. “To bury your bones in this barren villa.”
Flash!
Light burst from the grotesque blades of the surrounding puppets. In that moment, Nobong turned and vanished.
Swish!
As sword energy rained down, Namgung Un raised his Golden Needle Sword.
Whoosh!
A tremendous force erupted, slamming the sword energies to the ground. He unleashed the third form of the Emperor Sword Form once more.
“Brother Bu, I’ll handle them,” Namgung Un said.
Bu Eunseol hesitated. Namgung Un’s skills had reached the early transcendent level, but these weren’t all the puppets.
“It’s fine. Hurry and cut down that senile old man,” Namgung Un urged.
Whoosh!
He unleashed the Emperor Sword Form again, shattering the warriors’ weapons.
‘He can hold out for about an hour,’ Bu Eunseol calculated. If he didn’t deal with Nobong within that time, Namgung Un’s life would be at risk. But letting Nobong escape would render all their efforts futile.
After a brief pause, Bu Eunseol nodded. “I’ll return as quickly as possible.”
With that, he swiftly used his movement technique, piercing through the wall of puppets.
