Paaaaah!
Black sword rings materialized around Bu Eunseol’s body.
It didn’t matter that his blade was carved from stone; with his inner force, he could have forged razor-sharp sword rings even with chopsticks.
Brrrrrr.
As sword rings rose in all directions, Dam Jeung’s eyes widened in shock.
“That is…”
Even with sword knots, only someone whose spirit had fused with them could unleash such transcendent swordsmanship.
Wasn’t this the Seven Blood Tear Forms of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang’s own art?
Swish!
Between the sword rings, black sword energy suddenly erupted.
Seven Blood Tear Forms, First Form: Life Lodges, Death Returns form.
It was the same method used by the nameless old man who had wielded the Seven-Finger Demon Blade in place of its true master while confined in the Repentance Cave for life.
“Dodge!” One of the monk-warriors shouted, but the sword energy had already spread like storm clouds.
Kiiiii!
Eerie grinding sounds echoed everywhere as the pitch-black sword energy began slicing through the monk-warriors’ bodies.
Shhk! Shaaak!
They tried to block or evade the black sword energy, but it was useless.
Weapons shattered on contact; hands were severed if they attempted to parry. Those who fled to escape were swiftly enveloped as the sword energy expanded at terrifying speed.
Kiiiii!
It was like the claws of a demon raking through the air.
Kwaaang! Kwaaaang!
Realizing they could not stop the spreading sword energy, the Blood Shaolin monk-warriors unleashed the destructive Seventy-Two Arts all at once.
Not only were these several times more powerful than ordinary Shaolin’s Seventy-Two Arts, they incorporated various lethal techniques.
But Bu Eunseol paid no heed and changed his sword method once more.
‘—We’ve reached a point where we might live or die.’
He executed the Third Form of Seven Blood Tear Forms, Half-Life Half-Death, not with sword rings but with pure sword energy.
Sizzle! Sizzle!
As the black sword energy spread like demonic claws in all directions, the dozens of monk-warriors surrounding Bu Eunseol froze.
“……”
From shoulder to lower abdomen, their bodies were diagonally cleaved, spurting crimson blood. The cuts were so swift and sharp that one wouldn’t even feel them without seeing the wound.
And utterly cruel.
Shaaak!
At the same moment, over a dozen monk-warriors collapsed in heaps of gore.
“Now…”
Bu Eunseol, staring down at Dam Jeung with eyes burning red, spoke in an infinitely low voice.
“Let’s test how strong the abbot of Blood Shaolin truly is.”
“Heh heh heh.” Dam Jeung gazed at the hellish scene Bu Eunseol had painted, then suddenly burst into mad laughter. “Waa ha ha ha!”
Pointing a finger while laughing like a lunatic, Dam Jeung nodded. “Yes, this proves you’re no envoy of the Three Realms.”
“What did you say?” Bu Eunseol’s brow twitched, and Dam Jeung clasped his hands behind his back.
“Follow me.”
“Nonsense. Blood Shaolin will be destroyed.” Solemn light flowed from Bu Eunseol’s eyes. “For the sake of protecting Shaolin, you cruelly…”
“They are not disciples of this temple.” Dam Jeung smirked. “The monk-warriors you just cut down were all villains who murdered innocent civilians or raped women.”
“What do you mean?”
Dam Jeung looked at the shredded remains.
“Blood Shaolin experiments with and advances this temple’s martial arts using irredeemable villains.” Turning his head, he stared straight into Bu Eunseol’s eyes. “Sometimes we gouge out eyes, cut out tongues, sever limbs. All to discover how to further develop this temple’s arts.”
Bu Eunseol frowned.
He had never dreamed Blood Shaolin had such a history.
“Of course, you’ll call this cruel too. Especially unbecoming of one who has taken Buddhist vows.” Dam Jeung exhaled a turbid breath and gazed into the void.
“But if not this poor monk, who will descend into hell?”
“……”
“This temple has been invaded countless times by foreign enemies, yet we have survived. The reason Shaolin has endured a thousand years is precisely because of Blood Shaolin’s contributions.”
Bu Eunseol said coldly, “Stop spouting sophistry. If you do such things, how are you any different from the Three Realms?”
“Who said we were different?” Dam Jeung glared at Bu Eunseol with icy eyes. “The enemies targeting this temple grow stronger even at this very moment. Therefore, Blood Shaolin must also grow stronger without cease. By any means necessary.”
Madness flowed in his eyes.
In those pupils seemed reflected the desperate image of Shaolin, bleeding endlessly against foreign invasions.
“I don’t seek your understanding.” Dam Jeung’s burning eyes seemed to spill blood. “Only by watching blood brothers who shared meals be beheaded by demons, eyes gouged, entrails spilled… can one understand.”
Bu Eunseol fell silent.
If it meant eliminating the fiend who had brutally killed his grandfather Bu Zhanyang…
He would not hesitate to become a demon himself.
How much more so for Shaolin, which had repeatedly endured such atrocities over a thousand years? From their perspective, Bu Eunseol’s own history of cruelty was merely a recurring cycle.
“I see.” Bu Eunseol nodded with an expression of understanding. “Since it concerns another sect and the dead were villains… I will not pursue that matter further.”
“Hmph, the supreme of the martial world has spoken.” Dam Jeung snorted and gestured toward a dark passage.
Rumble.
Then, monks clad in black robes slowly emerged from the passage and began collecting the dead monk-warriors’ bodies. Their movements were extremely reverent, and they continuously chanted sutras praying for the deceased’s rebirth in paradise.
These were likely the true monk-warriors of Blood Shaolin.
“You don’t seem inclined to follow obediently, so let’s talk here.” Dam Jeung looked at Bu Eunseol and said, “Why exactly have you crawled back here?”
“You know who I am?”
“Aren’t you the Divine Mountain Sage’s new pawn?”
Bu Eunseol was not particularly surprised. The various mechanisms the Divine Mountain Sage had previously installed in this secret passage…
Only Blood Shaolin could have done such a thing.
That meant when Bu Eunseol passed through the barrier, Dam Jeung had observed everything.
“Yet why does a greenhorn like you keep speaking informally? Do you even know how old this poor monk is?”
“I don’t.”
“You little—?” Dam Jeung’s eyes bulged as he stared at Bu Eunseol, eyebrows shooting skyward. “If you speak informally to this poor monk one more time, I will absolutely frame you for murdering the abbot.”
“Is that something a Buddhist disciple should say?”
“When have I ever been treated as one?”
As befitted the abbot of Blood Shaolin, Dam Jeung showed no trace of a Buddhist’s demeanor.
He was a madman who would smilingly sever his own limbs if it served his purpose.
“Heh.” Bu Eunseol let out a dry laugh, and Dam Jeung snorted.
“What? Another lunatic like you in the martial world—does that make you overjoyed?”
“Why wouldn’t it?” Changing his tone, Bu Eunseol nodded. “Fine. I’ll treat you as an elder as you wish, so answer properly.”
“What answer?”
“The Seven-Finger Demon Blade.”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes flashed.
“What was his relationship with Blood Shaolin?”
Dam Jeung narrowed his already thin eyes and said, “This poor monk is a member of Blood Shaolin. And everything about Blood Shaolin is secret. Even if I knew something, I couldn’t tell an outsider—especially someone from the demonic path.”
Though he said this, a sinister smile played on his lips.
Seeing through Dam Jeung’s intentions, Bu Eunseol said calmly, “State what you want.”
“You’re refreshingly straightforward. Truly befitting Majeon’s heir.” After a round of honeyed praise, Dam Jeung spoke in a low voice.
“The martial arts of the Majeon Lord should suffice.”
“Martial arts?”
“Blood Shaolin possesses various demonic arts, but the arts of the Majeon Lord, Sado Muryeong, are unknown.” Obsession gleamed in Dam Jeung’s eyes. “And you, Majeon’s heir, must primarily use the Majeon Lord’s arts.”
During the past showdown with the Heavenly Sword…
Bu Eunseol had openly used the Wishful True Binding, and numerous orthodox masters had recognized it as the Demon Emperor’s art.
Dam Jeung likely knew this well.
“If you teach me those arts, I might tell you.” A sinister smile lingered on Dam Jeung’s lips as he continued. “If you refuse, leave quietly. No matter how you plead, this poor monk’s mouth will not open.”
This was absurd coercion.
To a martial artist, secret techniques were more precious than life itself.
Leaking a sect’s arts without permission was the crime of deceiving master and annihilating ancestors. Not only the perpetrator but their family and associates would all be executed.
And he demanded nothing less than the Demon Emperor’s ultimate art.
‘He intends to make me a puppet.’
If Bu Eunseol succumbed to the threat and handed over the Wishful True Binding?
Shaolin could blackmail him until death.
Or easily brand him a spy of the orthodox sects.
“For a Buddhist to be so wicked and greedy.”
“Heh heh heh. From the start, Blood Shaolin cannot be called Buddhist. Otherwise, we would never have prefixed the sacred name ‘Shaolin’ with the word ‘blood’.”
Dam Jeung slightly opened his narrow eyes and said, “I won’t force you. But if you impart the Majeon Lord’s arts, this poor monk will tell you what I know.”
He added one more line.
“This deal is by no means bad for you either. No matter how great a person, if the bell is rung once… three thousand Shaolin disciples will swarm out and surround you.”
That was true.
This was none other than an underground mechanism within Shaolin’s grounds. If all of Shaolin’s masters mobilized to encircle him?
Even if it were the Human Demon Ak Muryeong, escape would be uncertain.
“So if I reveal the martial arts formula, you’ll spare my life and let me leave Shaolin safely.”
“You heard correctly.”
“Ha ha ha.” Bu Eunseol let out a low laugh, “Waa ha ha ha ha!” Then suddenly unleashed a heaven-shaking mad cackle.
“More demonic than the demonic path, more practiced at threats than the Black Chamber’s lackeys.”
“I’ll take that as praise.” Dam Jeung smiled, but Bu Eunseol said coldly, “If I were the type to fall for such tricks, I would have walked a different path long ago.”
Crack, crack.
Suddenly, cracking sounds echoed from Bu Eunseol’s body,
Wooong!
Then his form floated into the air as hundreds of strands of true energy formed long hands.
The sight resembled a Thousand-Armed Buddha wreathed in black and crimson.
In rage, Bu Eunseol unleashed the demonic energy of the Emotion-Severing Secret, executing the Wishful True Binding to its extreme.
“This is the secret art passed down by the Demon Emperor.”
Bu Eunseol’s eyes, floating in the air, radiated the aura of a great demon capable of slaughtering tens of thousands as if swatting flies.
“Take it if you can.”
Dam Jeung had miscalculated.
If he had simply revealed everything about the Seven-Finger Demon Blade’s whereabouts…
If he had spoken pleasantly…
Bu Eunseol might have offered the Wishful True Binding with both hands.
He was the type to repay a sip of water by digging a well.
But by grasping a weakness and shaking it, Dam Jeung recovered nothing and instead unleashed Bu Eunseol’s boundless killing intent.
“You intend to fight this temple alone?”
“You talk too much.”
Bu Eunseol extended his hand,
Shhk!
Hundreds of true energy strands shot toward Dam Jeung like lightning.
Thud thud.
Dam Jeung dodged swiftly, but the wall where he had stood shattered into hundreds of fragments that rained to the floor.
Rumble.
At the same time, black-robed monk-warriors with fierce eyes surrounded Bu Eunseol’s position.
These were the true monk-warriors raised by Dam Jeung.
“Your level is far from enough, so ring the bell.” Bloodlight blazed in Bu Eunseol’s eyes. “Call every disciple of Shaolin.”
Dam Jeung wore a momentarily dazed expression.
He had thought it mere bravado.
But Bu Eunseol truly intended to fight all of Shaolin’s disciples.
“Are you confident you’ll survive?”
“I don’t know about that. However…” Bu Eunseol smiled viciously. “I am confident I can slaughter the promising young disciples of Shaolin, including Blood Shaolin.”
Infinite killing intent beyond words surged in his blood-drenched eyes.
Dam Jeung’s mouth fell open.
Just moments ago, he had exuded a clear aura that seemed open to threats.
But the moment pressure was applied, he transformed into a great demon rivaling the Three Demons.
‘This bastard would really do it.’
If Bu Eunseol resolved to die and slaughtered only Shaolin’s young disciples?
Even if they killed him, Shaolin would have to seal its gates that very day.
Young disciples were a sect’s future.
Losing them all?
It could take over a century to recover vitality.
“Kek kek kek. Ka ha ha ha!” Caught in a checkmate, Dam Jeung suddenly burst into mad laughter. “As expected, truly formidable! Even in death, you’d slaughter only the young disciples! Ha ha ha!”
After roaring with laughter, he abruptly stopped.
“This poor monk cannot help but react.”
He nodded to the monk-warriors, and those surrounding Bu Eunseol withdrew like a receding tide.
“I lose.”
Dam Jeung raised both hands and smiled.
“I will answer.”
But as Bu Eunseol still floated in the air with bloodlight flashing, Dam Jeung bellowed,
“You little—?! This poor monk said I lost! And you still keep that stiff neck? Don’t want to hear about the Seven-Finger Demon Blade? Huh?”
Dam Jeung, leader of Blood Shaolin.
He too was no ordinary man.
In Bu Eunseol’s eyes, he was closer to a demonic madman than a Buddhist disciple.
Madmen understand madmen.
Thud.
Bu Eunseol released his energy, descended from the air, and nodded.
“A wise choice.”
“Rotten bastard. No wonder you’re a demonic seed—threatening to pick off only Shaolin’s young disciples.”
“You’ve got some nerve. Who started the threats?”
“Yes, yes, you’re amazing. Oh, how scary.”
Dam Jeung clasped his hands behind his back and walked deeper into the passage.
When Bu Eunseol stood still, he turned irritably.
“What are you doing? Hurry up! Or do you plan to squat there and talk?”
Bu Eunseol had no choice but to follow.
After walking the long, dark passage for some time, bright light poured from afar.
The place they finally reached resembled a miniaturized version of Shaolin’s grounds.
‘So it’s not Blood Shaolin, but Cave Shaolin.’
Blood Shaolin’s true base was secretly nestled underground within Shaolin’s own territory. Yet contrary to rumors, Blood Shaolin’s scenery was no different from any other temple.
They too chanted sutras and meditated like Shaolin disciples. There were also separate areas for training martial arts, akin to Shaolin’s Thirty-Six Chambers.
Dam Jeung snorted at Bu Eunseol’s surprised expression.
“What, did you think Blood Shaolin’s disciples bathed in blood daily or practiced bizarre arts all day?”
“Is that not the case?”
“Of course not.” Dam Jeung pointed proudly inside Blood Shaolin. “These too are all Shaolin disciples. In fact, to learn Blood Shaolin’s arts, one must maintain a far superior mindset and conduct than ordinary disciples.”
He added with pride, “Without good roots and upright, righteous character, one cannot enter Blood Shaolin. The same if one lacks outstanding martial talent. These are the cream of Shaolin’s disciples, carefully selected.”
Bu Eunseol smirked. “Then you could produce the Arhat Hall Lord, Scripture Pavilion Lord, or even the abbot from here.”
“Heh heh heh. You didn’t know?” Dam Jeung smiled coldly. “Including Scripture Pavilion Lord Gonggong, most who hold key positions in this temple are from Blood Shaolin. After a certain time, they simply decide whether to remain Blood Shaolin monk-warriors or return as ordinary Shaolin disciples.”
That was astonishing.
He had thought it a gathering of Shaolin’s eccentric madmen.
In reality, Shaolin’s elite disciples were required to enter Blood Shaolin.
There, they chose between light and shadow paths once more.
“Enough gawking. Follow.” Dam Jeung led Bu Eunseol to a small meditation room at the far end of Blood Shaolin.
The room was empty, its walls and ceiling coated with special paint.
No matter how loudly one shouted here, sound would not leak outside.
“In truth, this old man does not trust demonic path figures.” Sitting down, Dam Jeung shed his previous playful demeanor. “Demonic people often pretend to walk the middle path in youth, but many turn to tyrannical paths and lust for power in old age.”
Bu Eunseol nodded.
Indeed, to rise quickly in the demonic path, maintaining the middle path was advantageous.
Pursuing tyranny made it hard to gain popularity beyond loyal subordinates.
But the middle path allowed broad connections with both orthodox and evil, gathering diverse support.
Thus, many demonic figures maintained the middle path in youth before switching to tyranny in later years.
“Yet I tell you this because you are a complete madman, possessed by insanity.”
“Does Blood Shaolin have a rule to specially treat lunatics?”
“Not at all.” Dam Jeung snorted. “True madmen do not compromise with power. Their only desire is to achieve their goal.”
“A plausible theory.”
Bu Eunseol nodded faintly.
“Now speak.”
With a grave expression, he said, “Everything you know about the Seven-Finger Demon Blade.”
From the moment he learned the shadow of the Seven-Finger Demon Blade was the nameless old man…
Bu Eunseol had realized his grandfather Bu Zhanyang was the Seven-Finger Demon Blade.
The problem was how a Shaolin disciple became a demonic swordsman. It was utterly incomprehensible.
“Let me say in advance: this poor monk does not know the Seven-Finger Demon Blade’s true identity. I merely predict he is one of them.”
“One of them?”
“Yes.” Dam Jeung’s eyes sank heavily. “What I am about to tell you is unknown even to this temple’s abbot—no, to the highest figures of the orthodox martial world. If it leaks outside…”
“Do not worry.” Understanding Dam Jeung’s meaning, Bu Eunseol cut in swiftly.
With utmost seriousness, he said, “I swear on my life.”
“Phew.” Dam Jeung let out a deep sigh, gazed into the void for a moment, then spoke slowly.
“Figures believed to be the Seven-Finger Demon Blade once trained their martial arts in Blood Shaolin. Those who survived may have become the true Seven-Finger Demon Blades.”
“Blades?”
“Yes.”
Dam Jeung spoke in a low voice, as if recalling distant memories.
“It was called the Absolute Demonic Blade Project.”
