The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign – Chapter 923

Hwaruruk.

The moment the Flame Emperor energy erupting from their own bodies turned back on them and began to harm them instead, they were greatly shocked and quickly withdrew their energy.

Kiii!

In that instant, accompanied by a piercing, sky-tearing wail, the endlessly cold and dark ink-black blade qi of the Seven Blood Tear Forms coiled around their bodies.

The only reason they had been able to face Bu Eunseol, who had reached the Supreme Blade Origin, was thanks to the Flame Emperor energy that had reached its origin and could annihilate everything.

But if they could no longer use that Flame Emperor energy? Then even an army of tens of thousands would be unable to handle Bu Eunseol.

Paat! Slash!

Every time Bu Eunseol executed his blade technique, a storm of blood sprayed outward.

Blood occasionally splattered from his own body as well, but it was always those using Flame Emperor energy who fell.

“This can’t be…”

The old man watching the scene from afar doubted his own eyes.

The Flame Emperor Squad, capable of instantly crushing even a massive sect, was being dismantled by a single person?

Thud. Thud thud thud.

Corpses piled up like a mountain, and the flowing blood formed pools.

It was truly a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood—a single painting of hell unfolding.

Step. Step.

Bu Eunseol walked slowly toward the old man, still holding the Silent Tiger Soul Sword.

Tremble tremble.

The old man unconsciously shivered and took a step back.

The sight of him approaching with a lonely gaze, drenched in blood and holding a black weapon…

It was the very image of the peerless blade master he had feared so much in the past… the one he never wanted to face again.

It was none other than the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang.

“Don’t come any closer.”

The old man had once been a great killer who had plunged the martial world into terror. But there had been one time when he had nearly lost his life—when he had recklessly tried to attack Bu Zhanyang after accidentally encountering him.

Fortunately, the moment their eyes met, he realized that if the man moved even a single finger, his own neck would fly off, and he had fled immediately.

Yet now, seeing Bu Eunseol slowly approaching with his pale yellow eyes gleaming, that memory resurfaced, and his three souls and seven spirits seemed to fly straight up into the sky.

“Don’t come!”

The old man shouted with all his strength.

“Don’t come any closer!”

Any proper martial artist would have drawn their weapon before shouting, or at least attempted to flee using qinggong. Yet this battle-hardened veteran, who had roamed the martial world for decades and taken countless experts’ lives, was only screaming in fear.

It was no different from willingly placing his neck against the scythe of the grim reaper.

Swoosh.

The black blade qi mercilessly sliced through the air.

Slash!

Blood sprayed out nearly a foot high as his body began splitting diagonally.

“Our society will…”

The old man shouted with his eyes wide open.

“…hunt you down to the very end.”

Thud thud.

In the end, the old man’s body was cut into two pieces and rolled miserably across the ground.

But Bu Eunseol did not even glance at the sight. With an indifferent expression, he quietly left the plains behind.

***

Yeop Hyocheon does not enjoy drinking tea.

No, in truth, he extremely hated tea.

It was because he had suffered from terrible poverty since childhood.

Luxury item.

Children begging on the streets often starved to death without even being able to eat a single spoonful of thin porridge.

Yet the rich drank tea—more expensive than a single meal—every day as if it were water.

Even when his stomach burned with hunger and he writhed in agony, they wore silk clothes and elegantly sipped fragrant tea.

Every time, he watched them with eyes filled with hatred.

Years passed, and after he gained wealth and fame so that he no longer had to worry about meals, Yeop Hyocheon still did not drink tea, and he hated those who enjoyed it.

However, after serving as the Martial Demon Lord and assisting the Demon Emperor for over twenty years, and finally rising to the position of Chief Instructor, he eventually began drinking tea as well.

Because from that moment, his goal had completely changed.

Everything he had planned, and even fate itself… had once again been overturned.

Slurp.

Wiping away his recollection, Yeop Hyocheon took a sip of the Tieguanyin tea brought by the maid.

Although Majeon had a variety of teas available, he drank only Tieguanyin.

This was because Tieguanyin had a completely different first taste and aftertaste, and the longer it was fermented, the deeper its flavor became.

“……”

Yeop Hyocheon silently stared down at his teacup.

He had run toward his desired goal for a long time, and in the process, the beginning and end of his life had become completely different.

That was why he felt that Tieguanyin resembled his own life.

Srrrr.

At that moment, a shadow silently formed in the darkness without any sound or presence.

It soon transformed into the figure of an assassin wearing a glossy killing suit and a face-covering mask.

Thud. Thud.

The masked man bowed his head to the ground in greeting, then prostrated himself respectfully before speaking.

“As expected, the entire Flame Emperor Squad has been annihilated. The Martial Soul Command Lord has broken through the encirclement alone and is currently returning.”

At the shadow’s report, Yeop Hyocheon let out a low hum.

“Indeed. He possesses power that transcends the principles of martial arts.”

Bu Eunseol was growing stronger at an uncontrollable rate as time passed and now, he had even completely wiped out a unit using the origin Flame Emperor energy that could annihilate all conventional martial power.

“He must have used some supernatural power rather than martial arts.”

“No, he did not.”

The subordinate then delivered a shocking statement.

“It was the trace of the Seven Blood Tear Forms.”

“What?”

“He cut them all down with the Seven Blood Tear Forms.”

“I see.”

For a moment, ecstasy filled Yeop Hyocheon’s eyes.

In the current martial world, countless powers existed that transcended the boundaries of martial arts.

Yet there was only one peerless expert who could destroy all of them using pure martial arts alone.

It was the Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang.

However, the Seven Blood Tear Forms could not be used by just anyone.

Only those whose mind and body perfectly matched its nature could wield it.

‘If he can annihilate even the Flame Emperor energy with the Seven Blood Tear Forms…’

Recalling Bu Zhanyang’s appearance, Yeop Hyocheon curled the corners of his lips.

‘That power has finally been passed on.’

Everyone in the world believed that he was the grand master of the blade who could cut down everything with martial arts alone.

But Yeop Hyocheon knew the truth.

That a transcendent power capable of overturning the world resided within his body and that this power would surely be passed on to the grandson he cherished most before he died.

And that prediction had hit the mark.

‘Bu Zhanyang.’

Yeop Hyocheon quietly clenched his fist tightly.

‘Soon, I will surpass even you.’

Suppressing the surging emotions, Yeop Hyocheon’s eyes flickered repeatedly like stars in the night sky.

Suddenly, memories of the past surfaced.

In that hellish place.

Under the name of the Absolute Demonic Blade Project.

The memory of when he first met him.

***

Sharp ridges stretched toward the sky.

The cliff, as if sliced by a blade, allowed no resting spot or foothold.

The blazing sun relentlessly emitted heat that seemed capable of evaporating every liquid in the world, and the sound of wind lightly brushing the cliff made one’s spine chill like the laughter of a grim reaper.

Drip drip.

The children were climbing the cliff with bare hands from which blood flowed.

Their skin was torn by the rocks and bleeding, and all their fingernails had fallen off, staining their fingers red.

Tuk tuk.

Every time small fragments of rock fell from the cliff, it felt as if the hand of the god of death had brushed past their necks.

“Uuuu…”

At that moment, one of the children climbing the cliff trembled and let out a groan.

His body refused to move any further due to exhausted stamina.

Tremble tremble.

Barely holding on, his hand eventually slipped.

“Aaaaaah!”

He fell with a horrific scream.

The children who heard the sound all tightly shut their eyes.

But when they opened them again, their eyes held firm resolve instead of fear.

―We cannot stop here!

―I will definitely survive.

Gritting their teeth, the children began climbing the cliff once more.

Their hands and feet were covered in rock dust and blood, yet they continued without rest, groping for uneven crevices in the rock with their small hands and crawling upward.

At the very front was a child with sharp, fierce eyes.

He was the child who always came in first in every test—Number Seven.

He had a sturdy build, a clever mind, and a personality as cold as a venomous snake.

He displayed outstanding ability at every checkpoint and had caught the instructors’ attention.

He also led the largest faction among the three divided groups of children.

‘I will survive.’

Number Seven did not even turn his head as he continuously reached his hand into the crevices of the cliff.

‘Without fail!’

Every time, the blood flowing from his palm left faint handprints on the rock.

From afar, the cliff looked as if it had been engraved with the handprints of demons climbing up from hell.

‘Just a little more.’

By now the sun had begun to set, and the rock was growing colder.

The cold chill numbed his fingertips, yet hot flames burned in his eyes.

‘Done.’

Finally reaching the summit, Number Seven spread both arms wide.

Seeing the beautiful scenery spread out in the distance, a wave of victory echoed in his chest.

But he had no choice but to suppress the cheer that threatened to burst out.

Showing emotion was forbidden.

―Uwaaaa!

Even then, screams of those falling continued to echo from below.

Children who had almost reached the top but ultimately ran out of strength were dying one after another.

“Number Seven, as expected, you’re first again.”

The masked man standing at the summit nodded.

He was the Third Instructor in charge of the cliff-climbing test and was known among the instructors as someone with relatively more affection and gentleness.

“Third Instructor.”

When Number Seven saluted, the instructor nodded.

“Uuuu…”

After about fifteen minutes, accompanied by groans, the children who had followed began reaching the top one by one.

They saluted the Third Instructor and then collapsed onto the ground from exhaustion.

“It seems everyone has mostly arrived.”

The Third Instructor, who had been counting the children, nodded.

But then he seemed to hear something and looked down the cliff.

“Surely not.”

Muttering quietly, the Third Instructor leaped down the cliff without hesitation.

Using the Soaring Wind Flight Technique, he quickly climbed back up the cliff.

“Everyone, wait here!”

“What happened?”

When Number Seven asked, the Third Instructor replied in a calm voice.

“Number Three Hundred is climbing up.”

The children’s eyes widened in shock.

The sun had already set and a cold wind was blowing—it was evening.

It was long past the time when anyone who fell from the cliff would have fallen, yet someone was still climbing?

“Uuuu…”

Most of the children who had reached the summit were exhausted and felt extreme cold from the blowing wind.

However, during training, they were required to act as a group, and the rule was that everyone had to wait until all had completed the checkpoint.

Therefore, they had no choice but to remain motionless on the cliff edge and wait.

After a full hour had passed,

Thud.

A trembling figure finally reached the summit.

His face was hidden by long hair, but his eyes and aura looked blunt, as if carved from rock.

His clothes were torn to rags and blood continuously flowed from his hands and feet, yet he calmly brought his hands together and saluted the instructor.

“Number Three Hundred has now arrived.”

―That damn bookworm bastard!

The children on the summit glared at Number Three Hundred with murderous intent.

While others were desperate for time even to read martial arts manuals, this strange fellow spent every day reading Buddhist scriptures.

Moreover, despite having no martial talent or any special power, he was indifferent and blunt as if he understood everything in the world.

Even while barely surviving, he repeatedly passed the checkpoints last.

―Because of that guy, we keep suffering!

As the children ground their teeth,

“Hmm. Time has already become like this.”

The Third Instructor looked at the distant sky and shook his head.

Descending hundreds of zhang of this steep mountain at this hour was impossible.

“If we descend now, our stamina will only drop further. Prepare to camp here overnight.”

Then he turned around.

“This instructor will go fetch the necessary supplies.”

The moment the Third Instructor disappeared using movement technique as swift as a gale, all the children glared at Number Three Hundred.

“Number Three Hundred! You bastard!”

Among them, a large-built child approached, rolling up his sleeves.

It was Number Thirteen, one of Number Seven’s subordinates and someone born with heavenly divine strength.

“Because of you, we suffered again!”

A large rock was already in his hand.

“It would be better for all of us if you just died here.”

Even as Number Thirteen approached with murderous intent, none of the children said a word.

There were three factions here, and the faction centered around Number Seven, who possessed the greatest skill, held the most power.

Moreover, that bookworm did not belong to any faction, so even if Number Thirteen killed him, no one would stop it.

“Wait.”

At that moment, a voice stopped Number Thirteen.

It was a child with a knife scar over one eye who carried the aura of a battle-hardened veteran.

He was Number Four, from the back-alley Black Path, and led one of the three factions.

“Leave him.”

At Number Four’s short words, Number Thirteen frowned.

“You’re saying we should keep suffering because of that guy?”

“We didn’t suffer.”

Number Four spoke in a low voice.

“He was late because he was helping the children who were falling behind. That guy.”

“What?”

Number Thirteen snorted.

“A guy who can’t even control his own body? Who exactly did he help?”

“When the person in front climbs too fast, despair sets in. The farther the distance grows, the more it feels like you’ll never make it.”

Leaning against a tree stump, Number Four pointed at Number Three Hundred with his thumb and continued.

“But if there’s someone quietly climbing from behind, you can climb with peace of mind. It makes you think, ‘I can do it too.’”

The children let out sounds of realization.

Many of those who had been at the front had fallen because Number Seven had climbed so quickly.

He had climbed insanely fast, so the children following him had despaired at the sight.

But most of those who had climbed slowly from the rear had succeeded in reaching the top—because Number Three Hundred had been slowly and silently following right behind them.

“Don’t make me laugh. You’re saying he deliberately climbed slowly?”

“Believe it or not, I don’t have the energy to argue with you.”

Number Four lay down with his hands behind his head.

“But don’t touch him. If you do, you’ll be fighting our entire group.”

“Number Four!”

Number Thirteen gripped the rock tightly in rage.

If they lost the power struggle, their faction would weaken.

It would mean they had no choice but to go to war.

“Enough.”

At that moment, Number Seven intervened and spoke calmly.

“No need to worry about it. He’ll be dead soon anyway.”

“But Number Seven, that guy…”

“I said enough.”

At Number Seven’s words, Number Thirteen reluctantly put down the rock and turned away.

“……”

Number Seven stared at Number Three Hundred, who was quietly resting, with cold eyes.

It was strange.

He had no special abilities, yet as time passed, everyone’s attention was increasingly drawn to that bookworm.

It was because he gave off a lonely yet mysterious aura and seemed accustomed to everything.

If he touched wood, he looked like a carpenter; if he carried water, like a water carrier; if he cooked, like a chef who had been cooking his whole life.

Sometimes he even looked like an old man of twilight who had experienced every hardship in the world.

However, despite being good at almost anything, there was one thing he was particularly bad at.

It was learning martial arts.

“Number Four.”

Number Seven asked the reclining Number Four.

“Aren’t you the one among us who is most practical and cold-headed?”

He asked in an extremely low voice.

“So why do you keep protecting that loser? Have you become sentimental too?”

“Loser? Who?”

“Number Three Hundred.”

Number Seven said coldly.

“That guy is only good at odd jobs. He has no talent for martial arts.”

“Huhuhu.”

“Why, am I wrong?”

“No, you’re right about that.”

Still lying down and gazing at the distant sky, Number Four looked at the twinkling stars and spoke in a low voice.

“But what if that guy becomes proficient in martial arts too?”

“What?”

“Among us, who could possibly defeat him?”

For a moment, goosebumps rose on Number Seven.

―Good at everything except martial arts.

That was the nickname given to the bookworm.

What would happen if that guy even became good at martial arts?

“Hmph.”

Hiding his uneasy expression, Number Seven let out a cold snort.

“He’ll die before that happens.”

“Well, maybe.”

Number Four turned over and closed his eyes.

“I’m going to sleep. Don’t talk to me anymore.”

Number Seven snorted and turned away.

But deep in his heart, an uneasy feeling began to burn.

‘That damn bookworm!’

Number Seven gritted his teeth.

If things continued like this, the title of Absolute Demonic Blade would fall into that guy’s hands.

That was something he absolutely had to prevent.

***

Squeeze.

Number Seven—no, Yeop Hyocheon—awoke from the recollection.

He was still tightly clenching his fist.

‘Useless recollection.’

But he soon shook his head.

Number Three Hundred, Bu Zhanyang, was dead.

And he, Number Seven, had survived.

That was what mattered.

‘Now I will obtain that power. And I will carry out the unfinished task.’

The half-orb in his bosom.

Caressing the Boundary Prosperity Jade, Yeop Hyocheon bit his lip.

‘The time has finally come.’

The Seven-Finger Demon Blade, Bu Zhanyang.

That peerless blade master possessed the terrifying ability to shatter any supernatural power, and could even cut down the powers of the Baekri family or True Demon without being affected by them.

He could defeat any expert, and possessed the dreadful potential to surpass any power—the ‘Destroyer of Fate.’

Because he was the Heavenly-Mandate Star.

He was a legendary being who had never appeared in the martial world before.

‘That power must have been passed to Bu Eunseol.’

He was surely hiding it with the help of that lama monk from the Western Regions.

Because the moment Bu Eunseol appeared in the martial world, the heavenly signs had moved once again.

―The fate that Bu Zhanyang possessed has been passed on to Bu Eunseol.

The Destroyer of Fate, the Heavenly-Mandate Star, was said to reveal its true power only after completely shattering the trials given to it.

And although Yeop Hyocheon only had half of it, he possessed the Boundary Prosperity Jade, which could instantly absorb the traits of any individual.

‘The Demon Emperor is doing useless things.’

He knew very well that the Demon Emperor was certain Bu Eunseol was the Heavenly Dark Star and was simply waiting for that power to manifest.

But Bu Eunseol was not the Heavenly Dark Star.

He had inherited Bu Zhanyang’s Heavenly-Mandate Star.

“It is time to begin executing the plan.”

At Yeop Hyocheon’s low voice that echoed through the office, the prostrated shadow bowed its head and vanished in an instant.

Finally, he was about to reveal the claws he had hidden until now.