The gathering of the Thousand Swords Society was being held in Jayang, a place slightly removed from Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan.
This location was renowned not only for Buddhist holy sites like Boguksa Temple and Wongakdong Cave but also for historical landmarks such as Taegukgojin and Seonhakgwan, which were well worth visiting.
As a result, Jayang was a place frequented not only by righteous martial artists but also by skilled masters from both the righteous and unorthodox factions, as well as tourists.
The streets buzzed with activity.
As they entered Chengdu, Bu Eunseol, guided by Yoo Hwaryeong, observed the bustling crowds, his gaze deepening.
‘Similar, yet different.’
For the past year, Bu Eunseol had been active in the martial world around Lake Dongting in Hunan.
Like Jayang, that area attracted many sightseers who came to enjoy its scenic mountains and rivers. However, in reality, it was a place where the forces of the righteous, demonic, and unorthodox sects were evenly matched, engaged in fierce power struggles, which gave it a somewhat menacing atmosphere.
But Jayang was different.
It was lively and boisterous, with more armed martial artists visible than tourists. This, in turn, suggested that conflicts frequently erupted here.
“What a crowd,” remarked Yoo Hwaryeong.
It would have been better to hurry along, but Yoo Hwaryeong kept heading deeper into the marketplace.
“Great Hero Yoo, didn’t you say the gathering is being held at Geumjeongsan?” asked Black Leopard, unable to hold back.
At this, Yoo Hwaryeong flashed a bright grin, revealing his white teeth.
“When in Sichuan, one must drink Southern Spring Vintage Wine.”
“But can’t you drink Southern Spring Vintage Wine anywhere in Sichuan?” Black Leopard countered.
Yoo Hwaryeong’s expression turned serious as he replied, “Not all Southern Spring Vintage Wine is the same. The Southern Spring Vintage Wine served at the Little White Pavilion in Jayang is the real deal.” Acting as if he were the manager of the Little White Pavilion himself, he dragged Bu Eunseol and Black Leopard along.
“Come, come! Let me show you what Sichuan’s finest liquor is all about.” It was lunchtime, and every inn and tavern was packed with people.
The Little White Pavilion, however, was quiet. This was no surprise, as it was a high-end establishment where even a simple dish cost over thirty nyang.
“Welcome!” greeted the server at the Little White Pavilion, quickly leading Bu Eunseol’s group to a window seat with a fine view.
“Great Hero Yoo, this place seems awfully expensive,” whispered Black Leopard, glancing around.
Yoo Hwaryeong slapped the table and laughed heartily. “No need to worry. My martial skills may be lacking, but my purse is plenty full.” He then began ordering without hesitation. “Five bottles of Southern Spring Vintage Wine and your five best dishes. Use large cups for the liquor, and make sure the peppers are top quality.”
“Understood!” replied the server.
“Here you go.” Yoo Hwaryeong tossed a large silver coin to the server, who bowed so deeply his nose nearly touched the floor.
“Thank you, sir! I’ll bring the liquor right away.” After wiping the table clean with a cloth, the server soon returned with five fragrant jugs of Sichuan’s famous liquor, Southern Spring Vintage Wine.
“You look like it’s your first time in Sichuan, am I right?” Yoo Hwaryeong asked Bu Eunseol.
“That’s correct,” Bu Eunseol replied dryly.
“Hahaha, perfect!” Yoo Hwaryeong exclaimed.
“What’s perfect?” Bu Eunseol asked.
“The martial winds in Sichuan have been quite turbulent lately,” Yoo Hwaryeong said in a low, conspiratorial whisper. “The Sword Pavilion has produced a great master, and even the Tang Clan, which has kept to itself for so long, has sent a direct descendant into the martial world.”
Filling Bu Eunseol and Black Leopard’s cups to the brim, he continued in a hushed tone. “Recently, a man called the Red-Faced Blood Blade, Yoo Rimwi, defeated Nam Cheonbung, who was known as Sichuan’s fastest. After that, martial duels suddenly became the trend in Sichuan, which had been quiet for a while.”
Pouring liquor into his own cup, Yoo Hwaryeong added, “That’s why countless masters and notable figures have been flocking to Sichuan. I’ll introduce you to some of them soon.”
“No need,” Bu Eunseol replied.
“Why not?”
“I’m not interested.” Bu Eunseol had no interest in forming connections with other martial artists.
“Well, it’s not my place to interfere, but if you want to survive long in the martial world, you need to build relationships with notable figures,” Yoo Hwaryeong advised.
“…”
“Having wide connections with prominent people can give you access to valuable information and their assistance.” Sighing softly, Yoo Hwaryeong whispered, “There’s no such thing as a lone wolf in the martial world.”
The phrase there’s no such thing as a lone wolf in the martial world carried multiple meanings. But Bu Eunseol merely flashed a sharp glance, as if rejecting the notion.
“Ahem.” Clearing his throat as the atmosphere grew tense, Yoo Hwaryeong continued, “Even the Thousand Swords Society was created by senior swordsmen who realized the limits of standing alone in the martial world, wasn’t it? Haha!”
Thinking he’d made a clever joke, he laughed heartily.
“Come, let’s have a drink!” he urged.
Black Leopard, who had been listening quietly, gave a wry smile.
If Bu Eunseol were an ordinary man, such advice might have been fitting. But it was utterly incompatible with his true identity.
After all, Bu Eunseol was a pillar of the demonic path, one of the ten demon warrriors of the Nangyang Pavilion, a sect within the Ten Demonic Sects. With such a formidable background, finding someone worthy of forming a connection with him was no easy feat.
“What you need in the martial world isn’t connections—it’s a good weapon,” Bu Eunseol said, shaking his head after downing his drink in one gulp. “A weapon can protect you from immediate danger. What good are connections?”
“Hahaha. A weapon may block immediate danger, but connections can prevent disputes altogether,” Yoo Hwaryeong retorted.
Bu Eunseol nodded coolly and said, “Then let’s see you prevent one.”
“What do you mean?”
“Those men.” Bu Eunseol pointed to a corner where three menacing men were seated, their greedy eyes fixed on the black sword strapped to Bu Eunseol’s back.
“Hmm.” Yoo Hwaryeong swallowed hard.
While the martial world had many fine swords, one entirely black, from hilt to blade, was exceedingly rare. The black sword, polished to a lustrous sheen, exuded a mysterious glow that captivated the greedy.
“No choice, then,” Yoo Hwaryeong said, rising from his seat.
At that moment, a particularly corpulent man from the group approached Bu Eunseol arrogantly and said, “I am Heo Namyeol, the third of the Three Heroes of Yezhong.”
“I am…” Yoo Hwaryeong began, clasping his hands in greeting, but the fat man ignored him and addressed Bu Eunseol directly.
“Are you the champion of the Jeongmu Tournament?” Heo Namyeol’s gaze remained fixed on the black sword.
“That’s right,” Bu Eunseol answered.
Heo Namyeol smirked. “Rumor has it you didn’t win the tournament fair and square but rigged the match with Dongpyoseorang.”
After the Jeongmu Tournament, strange rumors had circulated. Some claimed that Bu Eunseol, the champion, had colluded with Dongpyoseorang to steal the sword. The rumors gained traction because top contenders Mu Samrang and Yang Myeong had suspiciously forfeited to Bu Eunseol, and some even questioned the legitimacy of his victories over masters like Young Jiwi and Seomun Kyung.
“There’s also talk that the real divine sword was taken by Dongpyoseorang, and the champion was given a fake,” Heo Namyeol continued, grinning. “I know a thing or two about swords. If you don’t mind, I’d like to appraise yours.”
Bu Eunseol didn’t even respond.
To a martial artist, a weapon is as precious as life itself. Asking to see another’s weapon uninvited was not only rude but utterly tactless.
“Don’t worry. I’ll just look and give it back,” Heo Namyeol pressed.
Bu Eunseol silently raised his cup.
“Such arrogance. I’m speaking politely, and you don’t even acknowledge me?” Heo Namyeol’s true colors began to show. “Or perhaps I’m being too polite? Would you prefer a less friendly approach?”
“Listen, friend, let’s not do this,” Yoo Hwaryeong interjected, standing up. “I’m with the Thousand Swords Society and know many heroes in Sichuan…”
Thud.
At that moment, Bu Eunseol placed the black sword on the table. Reflected in the sunlight streaming through the window, the sword’s scabbard emitted a mesmerizing glow. It was unmistakably a divine weapon, needing no appraisal.
“You want to appraise my sword?” Bu Eunseol said, an uncharacteristic faint smile on his lips. “Go ahead, if you can.”
“Heh, now we’re talking,” Heo Namyeol sneered, thinking Bu Eunseol was intimidated. “Don’t worry. I’m quite skilled at evaluating swords, so this will be a good opportunity for you.”
The tension seemed to ease, but Black Leopard swallowed nervously. He knew that when Bu Eunseol was about to fight, his eyes would clear, and a spring breeze-like smile would grace his face.
Unfortunately, Heo Namyeol was unaware of this.
“Let’s see…” As Heo Namyeol reached for the sword—
“Aaagh!”
A blood-curdling scream echoed through the inn. Heo Namyeol’s hand, severed at the wrist, lay on the floor.
“Urgh…” He stared at his severed wrist in disbelief.
No one had seen Bu Eunseol draw the sword—not even a flash of blade light or any sign of movement. Even more astonishing, the divine sword was already back on Bu Eunseol’s back.
“You bastard!” The first and second of the Three Heroes of Yezhong leapt to their feet. “How dare you attempt murder in broad daylight!” they shouted, drawing their weapons and charging.
Bu Eunseol sneered. “The Three Ghosts of Yezhong calling me out? That’s rich.”
The two men fell silent, as if struck dumb.
Their true moniker wasn’t the Three Heroes of Yezhong but the Three Ghosts of Yezhong—infamous bandits who had committed countless atrocities in Sichuan. Despite their decades of villainy, they had skillfully concealed their appearances and crimes, leaving few aware of their true identities.
But Bu Eunseol, who had operated within the Nine Deaths Squad, was well-versed in the secrets of such villains, including the Three Ghosts.
“You three always strike together,” Bu Eunseol said, eyeing Heo Namyeol, who clutched his arm and stumbled back to his group. “No need for words. Come at me all at once.”
“You’re begging for death!” they roared.
The Three Ghosts had evaded justice not only because of their high martial skills but also their mastery of poison and hidden weapons. Determined to eliminate Bu Eunseol, they unleashed a barrage of poison and concealed blades from their sleeves.
“You’re done—!” But their words were cut short. A red line of blood appeared across the throats of the Three Ghosts as they unleashed their attack.
Crash! Splatter!
Their hidden weapons clattered to the floor, and blood sprayed everywhere. Screams filled the inn.
“Aaah!”
Bu Eunseol left the inn as if nothing had happened. Black Leopard followed calmly, accustomed to such scenes, but Yoo Hwaryeong stood frozen, unable to close his mouth.
“No matter how vile they were…” Yoo Hwaryeong muttered, staring at the three gruesome corpses before snapping out of it and chasing after Bu Eunseol. “How could you kill so recklessly?” he shouted.
Bu Eunseol stopped and said coldly, “The Three Ghosts of Yezhong were irredeemable scum.” Yoo Hwaryeong had heard of their infamy, but even so, Bu Eunseol’s actions were unacceptable.
“All they did was ask to see your sword,” he argued.
“Do you really believe that?” Bu Eunseol retorted.
Of course not. The Three Ghosts had coveted Bu Eunseol’s black sword and would have stopped at nothing to steal it. What angered Yoo Hwaryeong was that Bu Eunseol, despite his immense skill, had shown no mercy to such villains.
“Even the lives of evil men shouldn’t be taken so lightly,” Yoo Hwaryeong said.
“I’m no enlightened monk. If I don’t make an example of them, others will line up to steal my sword,” Bu Eunseol replied calmly, as if it were nothing. “Of course, while the rumors spread, this might happen three or four more times.”
“You’d kill again?” Yoo Hwaryeong asked, incredulous.
“Do you think there’s another option?”
With a heavy sigh, Yoo Hwaryeong spoke with authority. “If you’re a villain who disregards human life and relies only on your martial prowess, I cannot travel with you!”
Bu Eunseol responded with a cold smile. “Do as you wish.”
“What?”
“You’re the one who wanted to travel together.” With that, he walked away leisurely.
Yoo Hwaryeong stared blankly at Bu Eunseol’s retreating figure before coming to his senses. “Wait, hold on!”
