At that moment, the atmosphere on the martial stage turned as cold as a sudden frost.
Survive.
In the end, wasn’t this just another way of saying only one among all these geniuses will be chosen?
“This is outrageous!” A sharp voice rang out from the middle of the crowd — it was a young girl dressed in green robes.
“All of us here are followers of the demonic path. Are you telling us to fight and kill each other?”
“Fight or kill, it’s up to you,” Hyeok Ryeon-eung replied coldly. “Figure it out however you like. You just have to survive as the winner.”
“Isn’t that the same as telling us kill?!”
“If you don’t like it, then leave.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung said flatly.
“No one is forcing you. Whether you give up or participate — it’s entirely your choice.”
If you don’t like it, leave. The green-robed girl, who had nothing more to argue, fell silent.
Seeing no more objections, Hyeok Ryeon-eung gave a small nod and spoke in a low voice:
“Then… begin.”
CLANG.
The gong on the martial stage rang again. And at that moment—
“Aaargh!”
A scream erupted from the center of the martial stage.
A young boy had suddenly drawn a spear like lightning and struck the person beside him.
“Jeok Ryong. Today is the day I can finally kill you.”
“Wi Uncheong! You bastard…”
Wi Uncheong and Jeok Ryong. The two were mortal enemies, their feud born from both clan and sect. Wi Uncheong used this opportunity to ambush Jeokryong and settle their grudge.
—”Waaah!” As Jeokryong collapsed, blood pouring from his wound, dozens of participants screamed in terror. Watching it all, Hyeok Ryeon-eung instead nodded in satisfaction, his expression pleased.
“If anyone wishes to leave, do so now. Once the fighting begins in earnest, there will be no more chances.” But no one moved.
If one were selected as a Ten Demon Disciple and learned the Ultimate Demonic Arts, then becoming the greatest figure in the demonic world would no longer be a dream. How could they let go of such a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?
Clang. Chaang. Ching!
A few among those on the training ground began to draw their weapons and fight. But the majority of the participants still stood in confusion, wearing expressions of helplessness and panic. No matter how great the intention to select the most outstanding individuals may be, they never imagined such a brutal plan would unfold so shamelessly.
—That waiver wasn’t just to scare us!
Only now did some of the participants grasp the true weight of the body-forfeit agreement they had signed and with that realization, a few finally turned their bodies and ran out the exit of the arena. But the majority of the participants were wildly swinging their weapons like madmen.
‘Fools.’
Bu Eunseol stood tall at the edge of the arena, his expression cold and unshaken. Though he wore a conspicuous ceremonial robe and carried a bamboo box, no one attacked him.
‘They’ve lost their reason to the fear of death.’ The people in the arena were attacking only those closest to them like blind men.
Their reason had been paralyzed by sheer terror.
—Fight. And survive.
Those words did not necessarily mean to kill everyone in the arena. Cling on, persistently and desperately—just to survive.
‘If only they had listened calmly, this chaos could’ve been avoided.’ Unfortunately, most of the participants were young, barely initiated in their sects’ martial arts. In contrast stood Bu Eunseol, who had spent an entire year without missing a single day tending to corpses. Having contemplated the meaning of death day after day, he no longer felt fear or dread in the face of it.
“Aaaagh!”
“Gahk!”
“Uraaagh!”
Screams of pain and terror rang out from all directions. Even those who had first fought bare-handed and those who had stood together just moments ago, vowing to support one another now brandished weapons and unleashed slaughter.
In the distance, a boy with a jet-black sword on his back and a headband reading “Heroic Spirit” stood at the edge of the arena, just like Bu Eunseol—calmly watching the battle unfold.
‘So, not everyone here is a fool.’
“Haaap!”
Just then, a boy wielding a meteor mace dashed across the field, killing opponents like a lightning bolt. His eyes suddenly met Bu Eunseol’s. Noticing the black robes and bamboo box Bu Eunseol carried, the boy flinched slightly. But when he took a closer look at how Bu Eunseol stood, he sneered.
“What a pathetic guy.”
Those trained in martial arts anchor their lower body firmly no matter their stance. The boy instantly recognized that Bu Eunseol had never learned martial arts, judging from how his feet were awkwardly splayed and his posture unsteady.
“Take this!”
With a loud shout, a silver meteor mace shot toward Bu Eunseol’s face like a lightning bolt. Bu Eunseol instinctively leaned back—
Whoosh.
The mace traced a semicircle through the air and struck him square in the back.
Crunch!
The bamboo box he had been carrying shattered, its contents spilling to the ground.
As he hurried to gather the fragments, the mace once again whirled through the air—
Smash!
It struck the broken box. Inside, a glimpse of a black ceremonial robe could be seen. It was the very robe worn by Bu Zhanyang at his funeral—a mortuary robe.
“What are you, a funeral robe merchant?” The boy spinning the meteor mace sneered. But Bu Eunseol’s eyes remained still, unshaken.
“You will die.”
“Hah! Ridiculous. You think you’ll kill me with that sword?”
Just as the boy was laughing—
Thud.
A dull sound echoed. From his chest, a sharp spearhead suddenly pierced out.
“Ugh…” When he turned around, he saw a boy holding a spear, driving it in with all his strength. It was Wi Uncheong, the very one who had ambushed and killed Jeokryong earlier.
“You bastard…”
The boy tried to move, but Wi Uncheong quickly twisted and yanked the spear out.
Splurt.
The spear had pierced clean through his chest. The boy coughed up a lump of blood and dropped to the ground, dead. Looking down at the fallen boy, Bu Eunseol muttered softly.
“That spear-wielding one has been waiting for the right moment to strike you since earlier.”
Bu Eunseol had already noticed Wi Uncheong lurking near the boy with the meteor mace, looking for the perfect moment to ambush. So, he had deliberately placed himself in the boy’s way, drawing attention and helping Wi Uncheong land the fatal blow.
“Hmph.” Apparently realizing this, Wi Uncheong sneered at Bu Eunseol. “Why did you help me?”
“I had a feeling I’d end up facing him eventually anyway.”
“So you haven’t trained in martial arts, huh?” Wi Uncheong smirked. “Trash like you can be killed whenever I want.”
Flushed with confidence from his successful ambush, Wi Uncheong began stalking the arena, targeting the strong with quick, lethal strikes.
To him, weaklings like Bu Eunseol weren’t even worth a second glance—he could kill them anytime. But what Wi Uncheong didn’t realize…
Was that Bu Eunseol had predicted every move he made. And that oversight… was a grave mistake.
***
“There’s no one that stands out yet.” From the stage above, Hyeok Ryeon-eung frowned as he observed the scene below.
In truth, it had been he himself who proposed this second trial. As a master of practical martial arts, Hyeok Ryeon-eung had opposed the idea of selecting the Ten Demonic Warriors based solely on physical constitution.
—“It’s true that having the right physique is important for learning high-level martial arts. But we can’t judge a peerless martial arts genius—one capable of reaching the pinnacle of demonic arts—based on physical attributes alone.”
In the end, his opinion was respected as the Supreme Commander of the sect, and so this second test was created to select alternative candidates for the Ten Demonic Warriors.
“And yet, despite having such strong physiques, not one of them stands out?”
Clang!
At that moment, a clear metallic ring echoed across the arena. A boy wearing a hero’s headband had drawn the blade hanging at his side.
“Sword of True Judgement?”
Hyeok Ryeon-eung narrowed his eyes.
The sword drawn by the boy in the hero’s headband was none other than the Sword of True Judgement, also known as the Sword of Judgement, the beloved blade of the famed warrior Mukheon, who was once called the First Blade of the Drifting Swordsmen.
Classified as one of the Four Great Swords under Heaven, the Sword of True Judgement had vanished after Mukheon’s death. And now, this boy wearing a hero’s headband was wielding that very blade?
“Could he be Mukheon’s disciple?” A composed, scholarly-looking middle-aged man standing nearby approached and spoke. It was Baek Jeoncheon, head of the Manbak clan.
“His name is Neung Ungang. They say he discovered Mukheon’s secret scrolls and sword deep within the remote mountains.” The Manbak clan was known for its brilliant strategists and scholars—the brains behind the demonic faction. Before the tournament began, Baek Jeoncheon had already memorized all the participants’ information from the roster.
“In any case, since he inherited Mukheon’s legacy, you could say he’s his disciple.”
“Then that kid might survive until the end.”
“However, since he learned the sword technique through a secret manual, his initial movements aren’t very smooth.” Baek Jeon-cheon then pointed toward one of the fierce fighters in the arena—Wi Uncheong.
“From what I can see, that child is clearly the most outstanding.” Wi Uncheong had quickly assessed the martial level of every contestant in the arena and, most importantly, showed no hesitation in killing. His temperament was ideal for learning the demonic martial arts.
“That one won’t last much longer,” Hyeok Ryeon-eung said flatly.
“Pardon?”
“No matter how chaotic the situation, even if everyone is meant to kill each other, someone who sneaks around assassinating others will inevitably stand out.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung shook his head. “Unless he has the power to take on all enemies at once, it’s foolish to behave like that. Eventually, he’ll become the common target of everyone’s attention.”
As if to support Hyeok Ryeon-eung’s prediction, Wi Un-cheong’s ambushes began to fail. Not only that—contestants near him began to band together and launch coordinated attacks on him.
“He’ll die soon.” Baek Jeon-cheon clicked his tongue in admiration at Hyeok Ryeon-eung’s sharp insight.
“But… is it really necessary to recruit candidates in such a brutal way? Surely, even without fighting like this, some could grow rapidly once they start learning martial arts.”
“The elders originally insisted on selecting only those with strong physiques so do you know why I insisted on this second trial?”
“Hmm… to find talent that may lack physique but excels in real combat?”
“Not even close.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung let out a low laugh.
“To reach the pinnacle of demonic martial arts, it’s not enough to have just strong physique. You must also possess a natural instinct—and a bloodlust capable of overturning the heavens.” Hyeok Ryeon-eung spoke with conviction as he watched the boy wearing the hero’s headband. “And that kind of thing only reveals itself in the most extreme battles—like with that boy.”
“You mean Neung Ungang?”
“Yes. With his beastly instincts and killing intent, he will likely be the last one standing.” Baek Jeon-cheon gave a faint, calm smile at Hyeok Ryeon-eung’s bold prediction.
“I suppose a man like you, who’s spent a lifetime brawling, would know best.” But Hyeok Ryeon-eung’s prediction was only half correct.
When the battle finally neared its conclusion, only two people remained standing in the martial arena.
***
The arena, once overflowing like clouds with participants, was now covered with bodies either dead or slowly dying from fatal wounds. No matter how well they had trained, they were still only young kids under the age of eighteen. For such young boys and girls—many of whom barely understood what “death” even meant—surviving a chaotic battlefield where every direction was filled with enemies was impossible.
Even Wi Uncheong, who had moved through the field like a reaper, targeting the strongest with ambushes, had ended up as a cold corpse. At that moment, Neung Ungang, standing tall in the arena, wiped the blood off the Sword of Judgement.
“This is… unexpected.” He looked across the field and smiled faintly at the figure standing opposite him—Bu Eunseol.
“I didn’t think you’d be the one to survive until the end.” Neung Ungang already knew.
The boy standing before him was, by all appearances, the weakest and most unremarkable among everyone who had filled the arena.
“Once I kill you… I’ll be a candidate for the Ten Demon Successors, right?” Despite Neung Ungang’s provocation, Bu Eunseol merely glared at him without saying a word.
“Heh.” With a low chuckle, Neung Ungang curled his finger at Bu Eunseol, beckoning him forward.
“Come on, then.”
Step by step. Bu Eunseol, who had gone out of his way to avoid fighting until now, slowly walked toward Neung Ungang. This fight could no longer be avoided. Unless he defeated Neung Ungang, he couldn’t become a candidate for the Ten Demon Successors. Carefully setting down the broken bamboo box, Bu Eunseol drew the sword that had been inside.
Seeing this, Neung Ungang bared his fangs and laughed.
“You’re insane.” Even at the insulting provocation, Bu Eunseol didn’t respond—he simply focused his mind. By moving quietly through the training arena, Bu Eunseol had already guessed that Neung Ungang would be the one to survive to the end.
‘He’s the strongest one here.’ Though it seemed like Neung Ungang was swinging his sword wildly, there was a subtle logic and technique hidden in every strike.
He may have struggled at first, but his skills had been steadily growing with each opponent he defeated. Bu Eunseol had instinctively known that Neung Ungang was the strongest among all the contestants in the arena. So he had carefully observed, over and over, the souls of those Neung Ungang had slain.
‘I can definitely win.’
Bu Eunseol had already discovered a gap in Neung Ungang’s sword technique. On top of that, Neung Ungang was underestimating him. In real combat, even a moment of carelessness could decide life or death. And now that Neung Ungang believed he hadn’t properly learned martial arts…
He would surely take his time, attacking leisurely, and aim to end Bu Eunseol’s life at his own pace.
“You sure dream big.” Neung Ungang sneered as he saw the determination rise in Bu Eunseol’s eyes. “You really think you can beat me?”
Flash!
The blackened Sword of Judgement gleamed brilliantly in the air.
Slice.
With the sound of flesh tearing, blood began to spill from Bu Eunseol’s right shoulder and thigh.
“You’ve got guts, but that’s not enough.” Neung Ungang had originally expected Bu Eunseol to leap away and dodge, so he had executed his technique accordingly.
But Bu Eunseol did nothing but stare him down, completely still, like a stone statue.
“Wait—was he unable to dodge? Hahaha…” Letting out a low chuckle, Neung Ungang swung the Sword of Judgement once again.
Slash!
This time, a piece of flesh flew off from Bu Eunseol’s shoulder. He could have simply stabbed or slashed to kill him outright, but instead, he sliced just the shoulder muscles, to maximize the pain.
Drip. Drip.
From the wounds where flesh had been torn off, thick blood fell in clumps. Yet Bu Eunseol stood there quietly, as if he didn’t feel any pain at all.
“Hahaha! Are you so scared you can’t move?” Like a cat toying with a mouse, Neung Ungang swung his sword again and again, each strike dyeing Bu Eunseol’s ceremonial robes a deeper red.
Drip.
Even though he wore pitch-black robes, the blood soaked right through the fabric. Bu Eunseol now looked like a snowman drawn with nothing but black and red paint.
“What a pathetic sword.” Bu Eunseol, now drenched in blood everywhere except his eyes, spoke in a low voice. “You keep slicing off flesh, piece by piece…”
“What did you say?” In that moment, a cold blue gleam flashed in Neung Ungang’s eyes. “Are you asking me to kill you quickly?”
The killing intent radiating from Neung Ungang’s eyes curled upward like heat haze as he gripped the Sword of Judgement tightly. He had decided to use his most cruel and precise killing technique to finish off Bu Eunseol.
‘It’s coming!’ Seeing Neung Ungang twist his grip on the Sword of True Judgement, Bu Eunseol raised his sword. ‘I’ll only get one chance!’ Bu Eunseol had spent the entire match observing the injuries of those struck down by Neung Ungang. And he had discovered a fatal flaw in Neung Ungang’s signature killing technique.
‘Below the knee.’ Though his strike seemed to encircle the opponent perfectly, in truth, the attacks never targeted below the knees.
‘He must assume no martial artist would ever duck that low just to avoid a blow.’
“Die!” With a shout, Neung Ungang dashed forward using his footwork and unleashed his killing move.
Flash!
A burst of radiant light exploded outward, and Bu Eunseol dropped flat to the ground like lightning, without even a moment to think.
Swish—
The deadly arc of the blade whistled just above his head, slicing through his wild hair.
‘Now!’
Springing up like a freshly caught carp, Bu Eunseol thrust his sword with all his might straight into Neung Ungang’s solar plexus.
“The Cheondol point is a spot even expert martial artists struggle to train properly.”
“Isn’t that the spot street strongmen test with knives?”
“Hahaha, that’s because they slowly press the blade against the throat. But this is an acupoint that, when struck with full force, can knock out even an adult.”
Thud!
A dull sound was followed by a muffled groan.
“Ugh.”
Neung Ungang’s mouth opened wide, his eyes bulging in shock. Because suddenly, the old sword had pierced under his Adam’s apple, stabbing into the Cheondol point. No matter how much the sword was made to ward off evil spirits, its blade was sharp.
Drip drip.
As blood poured from the wound beneath his throat, the choking groan from Neung Ungang grew weaker.
Thud.
And then, he collapsed dead. At the same moment, a loud gong sounded. The tournament phase was over. But as the unexpected outcome sank in, a deathly silence filled the platform.
“Is it over?” Bu Eunseol, standing and looking up at Hyeok Ryeon-eung and Baek Jeon-cheon on the platform, finally spoke. “Or is there another trial to go through?”
Soaked in blood and with eyes wide open, Bu Eunseol looked like he had just emerged from hell…
He was like a lone wild boar, fierce and unyielding.
