The Great Heavenly Demon Sovereign - Chapter 732

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 732.
Sparks seemed to dance in Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
“What do you mean by that?”
“Exactly as I said. The Baek Ri Family has endured all this time, but they merely hide in a place no one can find.”
“Why are you suddenly speaking of the Baek Ri Family?”
“I heard it from my master. That you might be of Baek Ri bloodline.”
The possibility that I might be connected to the Baek Ri Family was something I had long suspected.
But the Baek Ri Family still exists?
Hadn’t they vanished without a trace three hundred years ago?
“Mu Jon said such a thing?”
“My master told me. That all three legendary families endure, merely concealing their presence from the world.”
He spoke with an expression of utmost solemnity.
“And that Baek Ri Mu Ha, the greatest martial artist in the realm, is a descendant of that legendary Baek Ri Family.”
Bu Eunseol’s fists clenched tightly.
It was something I had anticipated to some degree all along.
The Cheon Am Seong that Yang Seol Rin mentioned, and the Baek Ri Family’s ability to reference the Mental World.
And considering that Baek Ri Mu Ha, who had briefly engaged in Gangho activities, possessed such extraordinary martial prowess…
He could not be an ordinary person, and might well be a member of the legendary Baek Ri Family.
But suspicion and truth are different things.
When Mu Gyeol finally spoke of what I had suspected all this time as truth, I could not help but be shaken.
Moreover, they still endure?
Then… does the Baek Ri Family also maintain a headquarters somewhere like the Yang Seol Family, and involve themselves in Murim affairs?
“Mu Jon told me that Baek Ri Mu Ha is the successor of Sam Gye.”
Bu Eunseol, who had been pondering deeply, asked a question that had remained utterly incomprehensible until now.
“But how could a descendant of the Baek Ri Family become the successor of Sam Gye?”
“That part also seemed strange to me, so I asked my master about it.”
Mu Gyeol fixed his sharp, gleaming gaze directly upon Bu Eunseol’s eyes.
“Then my master simply smiled and said, ‘Of course it must be so.'”
In other words, Jeong Cheon Je stated that the legendary Baek Ri Family has endured all this time, and that Baek Ri Mu Ha is their descendant.
And Mu Jon said that Baek Ri Mu Ha could only naturally be the successor of Sam Gye.
Bu Eunseol exhaled a deep sigh with a complicated expression.
‘If only I had been a simple orphan, I would not suffer so.’
My parents in memory were merely loving and ordinary people who cherished me.
Yet in truth, they were divine beings who transcended human limitations, deeply involved in Murim affairs.
Moreover, if everything Mu Gyeol said is true… then ultimately the Three Families and Sam Gye share an inseparable connection.
Having resolved to bring down Sam Gye, I could not help but be consumed by thought.
“I see.”
Bu Eunseol brushed away the rising thoughts and brought both hands together.
“Thank you for telling me.”
“You risked your life to keep your promise, so I merely repaid that debt.”
There was a hint of concern in Mu Gyeol’s words, but I had no mental space to savor that sentiment.
“Then.”
I emerged from Cheongmyeong Pavilion with a dizzy expression.
“Perhaps it was always my fate to venture into Murim.”
With or without my grandfather, I was destined to enter Murim eventually.
Gazing at the distant sky, I shook my head with a hollow expression.
“Here I am, speaking of fate.”
I had never believed in such things.
Only now could I understand why the philosophers of Murim so frequently invoked the word “fate.”
The more I pressed forward toward my goal,
the more it felt as though some unknowable force deliberately pushed me toward certain places.
‘I no longer wish to remain here.’
The Demon Hall, which I had thought rife with schemes and treachery, was comparatively peaceful.
This Murim Alliance was like a bottomless abyss whose depths could not be fathomed, and from that dark chasm, it drew in the destinies of countless souls.
I felt as though I might retch.
I departed the Murim Alliance at once.
My mind was in turmoil.
In this state, I could accomplish nothing.
‘Let me go somewhere quiet.’
Reflecting upon it, both the Demon Hall and the Murim Alliance were
places where countless schemes unfolded and throngs of people gathered, and I always stood at the center of it all.
‘Now….’
Now I did not wish to linger where the fates of Murim’s people intersected.
Murmur, murmur.
I emerged into Seong Do as if entranced, but the bustling Market Street only amplified my confusion.
Boom!
With a resounding crash, my form instantly departed Seong Do, moving toward the quiet outskirts.
“Ah.”
As I deployed my lightness technique, I gasped.
For I beheld a building of a most familiar form and a weathered signboard, situated far from the village in a secluded place.
Xian’an Funeral House.
A structure resembling the Pyeong-an Funeral House my grandfather once operated stood quietly in a remote location, away from the village.
Step, step.
I moved toward it as if enchanted.
Though it was a place from which the stench of death perpetually emanated,
a place that brought misfortune merely by gazing upon it,
to me it was nothing but a beautiful place where those who had departed the mortal realm left behind their bodies, which were cleansed with reverence and laid to rest with dignity.
‘How could I approach such a place bearing a weapon of ill fortune?’
My eyes gleamed as I regarded Muk Hon, the sword at my waist.
Whoosh! Thud!
Muk Hon’s sword plunged deep into the earth beyond a hundred zhang, buried in the dense forest floor.
Crack.
And Bu Eunseol shifted into the unremarkable face of Seol So.
Creak.
As she pushed open the weathered door and stepped inside, a meticulously maintained courtyard came into view.
On the right side stood the Taepyeong Morgue where corpses were kept, and it seemed the Old Innkeeper heard the sound of Bu Eunseol opening the gate.
The morgue door swung open, revealing an elderly man dressed in shabby gray robes.
Judging by his exhausted expression as he emerged, it appeared he had just stepped away from performing the funeral rites.
‘Hmm.’
Bu Eunseol’s eyes narrowed as she gazed at the open morgue door.
There was no plague spreading in the region, yet corpses were piled high within the morgue—how could that be?
“Who might you be?”
The old man regarded Bu Eunseol with an anxious expression.
“Has another body been brought in?”
“No, no it hasn’t.”
Bu Eunseol bowed respectfully.
“I was wandering from place to place and happened to wander in here by chance. I apologize for disturbing your work.”
The old man furrowed his brow and examined Bu Eunseol, who had shifted into Seol So’s form, with careful scrutiny.
Having rushed several hundred li in a single breath, her entire body was covered in dust and grime.
From deploying her lightness technique at such tremendous speed, her clothes were torn in numerous places.
Whoosh.
Without a word, the old man entered the kitchen on the opposite side of the morgue.
When he emerged again, his hands held dumplings.
“Please, take these.”
Bu Eunseol accepted the dumplings somewhat awkwardly.
Judging by how cold they had grown, it seemed he had finished his work and intended to eat, but ultimately never got the chance.
“I couldn’t possibly—”
When Bu Eunseol demurred, the old man waved his hand dismissively.
“It’s fine. There are more dumplings inside.”
Beggars never come to solicit alms at a funeral house.
They believe that merely approaching such a place brings misfortune upon them.
Seeing Bu Eunseol’s torn clothes and dust-covered appearance,
the old man concluded that she had come here to beg, unable to bear her hunger any longer.
‘A reasonable misunderstanding.’
Bu Eunseol smiled bitterly to herself.
Indeed, who would visit a funeral house and peer inside the gate with such a longing gaze?
Even if their positions were reversed,
he would assume she had come here unable to endure her hunger.
“Thank you.”
Bu Eunseol no longer refused and ate the cold dumplings.
Though hardened and stale, the dumpling tasted more delicious than any delicacy I had ever consumed—a flavor tinged with longing.
The Old Innkeeper watched as I, covered in dust and dirt, savored the cold dumpling with genuine appreciation.
His gaze held a tender sadness.
“Cough.”
Had my mouth grown parched from the dust?
Or had longing dried my throat?
I coughed softly, unaware of it myself.
“Eat slowly.”
The Old Innkeeper returned from the kitchen with a clear bowl of water and offered it to me.
“Here.”
When I lifted my head, I saw the Old Innkeeper’s face bathed in sunlight from above.
His face was etched with deep wrinkles, and his eyes were nearly closed to slits.
Yet within those eyes gleamed a warmth and tenderness that flowed like gentle light.
When I was young and coughed like this, my grandfather would hurriedly fetch water in a bowl, just as he did now.
And he would gaze at me with endless affection in his eyes.
Exactly as he did now.
Drip, drip, drip.
Tears streamed from my eyes as I accepted the bowl of water.
They were not intentional—they flowed unbidden from a longing that pierced my very soul.
“Oh dear.”
Seeing my tears, the Old Innkeeper spoke with compassion.
“Take heart. Life goes on—someday, brighter days will come.”
And he gently patted my back.
Streams of tears.
As his warm hand touched me,
a single tear transformed into a torrent of burning drops.
If only I could see my grandfather’s face one more time. If only I could be held in his warm embrace once more,
if only I could breathe in that familiar, bittersweet scent again…
I would surrender everything I possessed without hesitation.
“Here.”
As the Old Innkeeper offered the water again,
Gulp.
I took a sip from the bowl, wiped my tears, and bowed my head in embarrassment.
“Forgive me.”
“There’s nothing to forgive—such things happen.”
The Old Innkeeper, a gentle smile on his face, nodded toward me.
“Eat slowly before you go.”
Then he turned and walked back into the Taepyeong Morgue.
Having given me the dumplings he had saved for lunch, he seemed intent on continuing his work cleaning the corpses.
“Sir.”
Bu Eunseol spoke to the old man as he turned away.
“Allow me to help you.”
“Help with what?”
“I’ve eaten your rice, so I should repay the debt, shouldn’t I?”
As Bu Eunseol pointed toward the Taepyeong Morgue, the old man waved his hand dismissively.
“There’s no need.”
The old man shook his head with visible reluctance.
“This is not work to be done carelessly. If one doesn’t know the proper method, it’s better not to attempt it at all.”
“You speak wisely.”
Bu Eunseol rolled up her sleeves and spoke.
“Despite appearances, I have practiced the art of ritual preparation for many years.”
“Ritual preparation? You, of all people?”
“Yes. You can trust me with this.”
Entering the Taepyeong Morgue, Bu Eunseol began wringing out a cloth with practiced movements.
Ritual preparation is grueling work because corpses release numerous bodily fluids.
Especially those who died away from home are discovered long afterward and reported to the Constabulary, so most are already in advanced stages of decomposition.
They produce as much discharge as bodies pierced by weapons.
‘This elder also primarily handles those who died away from home, just as grandfather did.’
Upon seeing the corpse, Bu Eunseol immediately understood that the old man operating this Xian’an Funeral House
was accepting commissions from the Constabulary and performing ritual preparation and burial for those who died away from home.
‘Even handling corpses from Constabulary commissions, he receives at most a few coins.’
Moreover, he doesn’t even recover the cost of burial garments.
For bodies from Constabulary commissions, most ritual preparers simply bury them anywhere without care.
But this old man performed the work with meticulous devotion, regardless of payment.
Just like grandfather, Bu Chanyang.
“Well, well done indeed.”
The old man watching Bu Eunseol work finally spoke.
With each touch of her hands, the corpse transformed cleanly, appearing almost as it had in life.
Her movements were swift and precise.
She completed in half a day what would have taken the old man four days and nights.
“You work even better than No Bu, who has spent his entire life at this craft. Remarkable.”
Bu Eunseol laughed bashfully.
“It’s nothing special.”
“At this level, you must have made quite a name for yourself as a ritual preparer. What is your name?”
As Bu Eunseol hesitated, the old man, Seo An, shook his head.
“I too have a past I cannot speak of. I once wandered as a vagrant, but by chance, this place shares the same name as mine… and so I came to this work, as if by fate.”
‘That’s why he treated me with such warmth.’
The old man, Seo An, saw in Bu Eunseol, who had wandered to this place, a reflection of his own past self.
“My name is Seol So. In the past, I too practiced ritual preparation like yourself… but now I wander from place to place.”
“A ritual preparer calling me elder?”
“Please, speak freely. Since you’ve already performed the rites of Yeomsa, doesn’t that make you my senior?”
Bu Eunseol’s words amused the old man, who broke into a smile that creased his weathered face.
“Senior? Is there really a hierarchy in the work of Yeomsa?”
“Of course there is.”
As Bu Eunseol’s expression grew intensely serious, Seo An smiled and nodded in agreement.
“I see. Well, since that’s settled, you should head back now. You’ve more than earned your meal.”
“Is there more work?”
Bu Eunseol blinked, and the old man let out a weary sigh.
“There will be. Lately, the sick and afflicted keep dying one after another.”
“Is it a plague?”
“Not exactly, but the ill and infirm are dropping like flies. And yet Physician Yeon works tirelessly to save them.”
“Who is Physician Yeon?”
“You’ve only just arrived in Geun Dong, haven’t you?”
“That’s correct.”
Seo An sighed before continuing.
“Six months ago, a wandering physician named Yeon Wol came to this place. Since there are so many sick people in Geun Dong, he’s set up here permanently to treat the afflicted.”
“A wandering physician, you say?”
“What else would a wandering physician be? Who else would treat the poor and sick for free?”
Seo An spoke with a bitter expression.
“Though unlike most wandering physicians, his medical skill is exceptional—he’s healed many. Yet even a physician cannot save every patient, so many continue to perish.”
Seo An shook his head.
“But a physician cannot save everyone, so that’s how many people are dying.”
Creak, creak.
Just then, the sound of old wheels grinding echoed from beyond the gate.
When they stepped outside, a cart laden with corpses covered in straw mats was rolling toward them.
“See? Here they come again.”
As Seo An sighed and moved to go out, Bu Eunseol raised her hand.
“Leave it to me. I’ll handle it.”
“You will?”
“Why not?”
Seo An shook his head apologetically.
“I barely scrape by with the rites work, so I don’t have the means to hire anyone.”
“There’s no need to worry about that.”
Bu Eunseol offered a bright smile of reassurance.
“I don’t need wages—just one dumpling a day is all I ask.”
“You’ll work without pay?”
“What use is money to a wanderer? If I can put even one dumpling in my mouth each day, that’s fortune enough.”
Seo An’s expression betrayed his bewilderment.
“With your skill, you could earn a living doing Yeomsa work anywhere. Why here?”
“I have my reasons.”
Bu Eunseol spoke with an apologetic expression.
“However, I cannot stay for long. I must leave again soon.”
“Then that’s fine. Stay as comfortably as you wish.”
As Seo An granted permission, Bu Eunseol broke into a bright smile.
Like the joyful days of childhood spent happily with grandfather.
Until this moment, I did not know.
That meeting Seo An
Would become the opportunity to see the face of the mother I had yearned so desperately to see, and
Would bring forth something beyond imagination.
* * *
Bu Eunseol stayed at the Xian’an Funeral House and helped Seo An with his work.
While performing the funeral rites here,
The Murim Alliance, the Demon Hall’s affairs, and even the revenge that always weighed on my heart could be forgotten for a time.
Seo An possessed the same compassionate nature as Bu Chanyang, and did not hesitate to help others.
Though his skill was unremarkable and the funeral rites took considerable time, he treated those who had died away from home with the care of family.
Yet because his livelihood was so impoverished that he lacked the means to provide clean burial garments,
While Bu Eunseol performed the rites,
Seo An repeatedly washed the corpses’ clothes clean and dressed them anew.
Was it because he witnessed Bu Eunseol’s happiness?
So Yo, who observed that sight,
Contacted Sa Hon Dae and requested that they fabricate Bu Eunseol’s movements, saying she would be conducting covert operations for a time.
‘Rest for a while.’
And So Yo herself departed from Bu Eunseol’s side for a time.
She understood well that if she remained nearby, Bu Eunseol could not truly rest.
Creak.
As the sun reached its zenith, the door to the Taepyeong Morgue within the Xian’an Funeral House opened.
Bu Eunseol had stepped outside to take a brief respite.
In his eyes gazing toward the distant sky, peace had quietly settled.
‘Now I understand why grandfather urged me to live an ordinary life.’
Here, there was no need to devise stratagems to face formidable adversaries, nor to cultivate superhuman martial arts.
Simply work diligently,
Eat when hungry,
Sleep when tired.
The world was somewhat harsh, but there was no need to deliberately dwell upon it.
Using what I possessed, I could perform good deeds in my own way and live each day as it came.
Splash, splash.
The sound of water echoed ceaselessly from the courtyard.
Seo An was washing clothes stained with blood and bodily fluids in a large wooden tub.
―I shall do it all, so please rest, sir.
Despite Bu Eunseol’s earnest plea,
Seo An did the laundry while reducing Bu Eunseol’s workload.
‘The profession of a Yeomsa—was it not something anyone could undertake?’
Seo An possessed the same kindness and compassion as his grandfather, Bu Chanyang.
And it was no coincidence.
‘From the beginning, it was a profession only the virtuous could perform.’
Day after day, one confronted the bodies of the deceased, conducting rituals with utmost sincerity and reverence so that the departed could find their way to better realms.
Yet despite this, one earned little coin and faced the scorn of others.
In other words, the profession of a Yeomsa was ultimately—
something only the diligent and virtuous could dare to undertake.
Whoosh.
Bu Eunseol, who had been watching Seo An perform his laundry in the courtyard, quietly returned inside the Taepyeong Morgue.
As she prepared to begin the ritual anew, Bu Eunseol gazed upon the geometric patterns scattered haphazardly across the floor and smiled bitterly.
‘Now that I think about it… when did I end up cultivating the Blood Dew Seven Techniques?’
During the days she had spent performing rituals at the Xian’an Funeral House, she had unintentionally gained several profound insights.
They concerned her grandfather’s martial art—the Blood Dew Seven Techniques.
The reason the Blood Dew Seven Techniques could become the supreme martial art was not—
its mystical initial form, nor the complete death-governing sword technique that even its wielder entered the realm of death.
The Blood Dew Seven Techniques had been born from death itself.
‘Grandfather must have conceived the Blood Dew Seven Techniques while mourning the dead and analyzing the causes of their deaths.’
Unlike in childhood—
now that I had become a martial artist and carefully performed the ritual ablutions of corpses once more,
I could finally grasp the principles of martial arts I had overlooked until now, and the profound mysteries of the Blood Dew Seven Techniques anew.
‘Grandfather did not simply yearn for death because life was unbearable.’
To slay an enemy, one must ultimately enter the realm of death oneself.
Therefore, I had always believed the Blood Dew Seven Techniques to be a death-form that only those who craved death could unleash.
But that was a misinterpretation.
Grandfather did not crave death.
Like the Grim Reaper who governs death itself—
he had mastered the realm of death perfectly.
‘That is why I still cannot properly unleash the Blood Dew Seven Techniques.’
I had not yet reached such a realm.
But as I emptied my mind and performed the rituals, I gradually came to savor and comprehend the mysterious meaning of death—
that boundless realm once more.
Through this, my mastery of the Blood Dew Seven Techniques deepened further.
Now I could unleash the Blood Dew Seven Techniques faster, more precisely, and more powerfully than before.
Clatter.
Then came the sound of a cart rolling from outside.
Upon stepping out to look—
this cart was laden with the corpses of patients who had died from illness, was it not?

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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