Chapter 338

Ban Dae-ha, the second son of Ban Jung-yang—the Blood Wolf Swordmaster and the current unrivaled martial artist of the world—was sitting alone in his room, reading a letter.

Though he lived deep within the remote mountains of Antangsan, he was keenly interested in the happenings of the outside martial world. Every day, he received and devoured reports from beyond his secluded home.

Lately, however, each report left a sour taste in his mouth.

The most frequent topic these days was none other than Seol Poong.

Ban Dae-ha frowned deeply, muttering under his breath, “More news about that guy again?”

Seol Poong, the prodigious heir to the Demon King’s throne, had appeared like a comet, sweeping away all rival candidates with astonishing feats. He had even forced the mighty Hyungsan Sect—one of the top thirty-six great sects—to kneel before him. It all sounded like a legend, too unreal to believe.

At first, Ban Dae-ha had scoffed at the stories, dismissing them as nonsense.

“Those gossipmongers’ exaggerations just keep getting worse. Calling such ridiculous rumors ‘intelligence’…”

But as time passed, he had no choice but to accept that these unbelievable tales were true. And with that realization came a growing unease.

Because the image of Seol Poong—the very man at the center of these stories—was exactly the kind of person Ban Dae-ha had always wanted to become.

A rising star among new martial talents.

The title of the world’s greatest prodigy.

A seat among the Thirty-Six Stars of the Martial World, achieved before even turning twenty.

All of it was what he had dreamed of.

Yet now, it was something utterly beyond his reach.

He glanced toward the direction of Bidong, where his father, Ban Jung-yang, was likely residing, before shifting his gaze back to his own Red Wolf Sword.

The crimson blade, forged in imitation of his father’s Blood Wolf Sword, was a symbol of his desire to be like him.

But no matter how much he wielded this counterfeit sword, he could never become his father.

It was nothing but a fake—just like the sword itself.

What he truly needed was a genuine blade.

A sword like the one he had seen recently.

“The Mukrang Sword that Seon Woo-jin carries… If only I could get my hands on that…”

At the thought of Seon Woo-jin, a cold, fierce light flashed in Ban Dae-ha’s eyes.

From the moment he first saw the Mukrang Sword, Ban Dae-ha had coveted it.

But he couldn’t just snatch it away recklessly.

If Seon Woo-jin’s Mukrang Sword was similar to his father’s Blood Wolf Sword, and if that was why Seon Woo-jin had come here, then it meant he had also unsealed his sword’s power—just like his father.

So Ban Dae-ha had sent people to track Seon Woo-jin while secretly gathering information.

Yet the intelligence they uncovered was surprisingly underwhelming.

Seon Woo-jin’s presence was so low-key it was almost suspicious.

All they learned was that he was considered a disgrace to the Seon Woo family and worked as a frontline soldier. That was about it.

Except for the time he earned the nickname “Flying Black Wolf” by defeating a top-tier master with first-rate martial skill, he had almost no notable achievements in the martial world.

“He’s just a nobody grunt,” Ban Dae-ha muttered, frowning without realizing it.

Just as he was about to decide to take the sword by force based on this lackluster information, he discovered that the men tracking Seon Woo-jin had vanished without a trace.

These warriors, nearly as skilled as elite assassins, had been wiped out as if they had never existed.

“This…?”

Something was definitely off.

The gap between the information and the reality was too great.

So Ban Dae-ha began investigating Seon Woo-jin’s movements from the very beginning.

What he found was astonishing.

Every place Seon Woo-jin had stayed was the scene of tremendous upheaval.

“When he was with the Seon Woo family, the Blood Sect’s supreme master Chuk Ho-tak and the Thirty-Six Star Tam Hwa Saekma Hwa Sa-yu were killed by Yeoryeong Saekma. When he was in the southern seas, Haenam Ma Sword Jin Tae-do and the demon realm’s Man Hak-sung were slain by the Southern Sea Saintess. Then at the Demon King’s Lotus, the strongest heir Gwe Jeong-gi fell. And now, the Hyungsan Sect itself has collapsed?”

It was incredible.

Wherever he went, massive incidents erupted—but Seon Woo-jin’s name was curiously absent.

Amidst these legendary events, he had somehow gained no fame at all.

At this point, that was even more surprising.

“Plus, his companions include Seol Poong—the Thirty-Six Star and heir to the Demon King’s throne—Hong Hae-ah Jeung Chil, a powerful supreme master, Ha Won-dal-gi Yeon Tae-jin, one of the four beauties of the demonic sect and a supreme master, and Jin So-eun, rumored to be the successor of the Jin family’s Natural Root in Guangdong. And yet, Seon Woo-jin is just a first-rate Flying Black Wolf? Does that make any sense?”

Only then did Ban Dae-ha realize something.

For reasons unknown, Seon Woo-jin had deliberately chosen to forgo—or rather, conceal—his fame.

For someone like Ban Dae-ha, who craved recognition above all else, this was utterly incomprehensible.

Moreover, with the fragments of information he had gathered, he could roughly estimate Seon Woo-jin’s martial prowess, which made it all the more baffling.

“That young swordsman who subdued Gui Do Baek Gi-ryang with sheer presence at the Demon King’s Lotus… That must be him, standing beside Seol Poong.”

Acknowledging this fact, Ban Dae-ha felt a deep sting of humiliation.

Even though Seon Woo-jin had done nothing directly to him, it felt like a personal insult.

His obsession only deepened.

“If only I had that sword—the Mukrang Sword…”

Shame, jealousy, self-loathing.

All these emotions fused into a burning greed for the Mukrang Sword.

Suddenly, Ban Dae-ha crumpled the letter he had been reading and hurled it against the wall.

“Damn it!”

He knew sleep wouldn’t come like this.

He had to do something to clear his mind.

Bang!

He slammed the door open, and the warriors guarding the corridor bowed deeply.

“Your Highness.”

Ban Dae-ha gave a curt nod and headed down the stairs.

He was going to the underground prison—the place where criminals were held.

The mountain villa’s subterranean dungeon housed a variety of prisoners.

From those who had dared to torment the weak in Zhejiang Province and were caught, to those foolish enough to challenge the Blood Wolf Swordmaster Ban Jung-yang and were locked away.

Among them were even those imprisoned simply for being part of the demonic sect.

Ban Dae-ha’s way of relieving his frustration was to torment these prisoners.

Since they were demonic sect criminals, he felt no guilt.

And as they were blood-sealed and powerless to resist, inflicting pain on them gave him a strange pleasure, gradually lifting his spirits.

“Your Highness!”

“Your Highness!”

The dungeon guards greeted him respectfully as he passed, descending deeper into the underground.

He paused before a particular cell.

Inside was a man who had brutally slaughtered an entire family in Zhejiang Province and fled—truly a man deserving death.

This was the place Ban Dae-ha visited most often to vent his anger.

But after a moment’s glance, he moved on.

Today, such lowly scum wouldn’t be enough to soothe his mood.

He needed a bigger sacrifice to restore his pride.

Deeper into the dungeon, he finally stopped before the thickest iron bars—bars as thick as a man’s forearm.

He smiled slightly, a hint of tension in his voice as he spoke to the prisoner inside.

“How have you been, Pyo Nosa?”

The man inside slowly lifted his head and opened his eyes.

A beastly gleam flashed from those eyes.

Pyo Nosa was an imposing old man with wild, white hair and beard.

His arms and legs were shackled tightly with chains, suspended so he couldn’t even sit.

He growled lowly, “How have I been? If you’re so curious, why don’t you try hanging here yourself? See if you can ‘live well’.”

Ban Dae-ha forced a casual smile.

“You still have plenty of spirit. Your tone remains as stiff as ever. I should tell the guards to cut back on your meals.”

The old man sneered.

“You bastard, coming to see me again. Must be something bothering you. What is it? Feeling inferior to someone else again?”

Ban Dae-ha’s expression hardened instantly.

That hit a nerve he could no longer mask.

The old man laughed, “Looks like I’m right, huh? Ha ha ha!”

Ban Dae-ha’s face flushed red with anger.

“How dare an ignorant old man like you!”

Without hesitation, he unlocked the cell door and stepped inside.

He grabbed a whip coiled in the corner and shouted, “Old man! Do you think you’re one of the Thirty-Six Stars even here? You’re nothing but a demonic sect parasite!”

With that, Ban Dae-ha lashed the whip hard across the old man’s body.

Crack!

The searing pain, white as snow, forced the old man to stop laughing.

But he didn’t cry out.

He gritted his teeth and endured the agony.

Still, Ban Dae-ha’s whipping continued relentlessly.

“You—!”

Swish!

“The Thirty-Six Stars of the Martial World!”

Whip crack!

“Let’s see how you handle this!”

Whip crack!

“Resisting, are you?”

Whip crack!

“I’m telling you!”

Whip crack!

“Muguk Paedo!”

Whip crack!

“Pyo Seogeuk!”

Whip crack!

Muguk Paedo Pyo Seogeuk.

Among the Thirty-Six Stars of the martial world, he was ranked near the top—a renowned swordsman.

He wasn’t exactly part of the orthodox sects, but neither was he a rogue who committed ruthless acts to be labeled a heretic. He was considered somewhere in the middle ground of the martial world’s factions.

His obsession with martial arts was so intense that he sometimes acted irrationally.

But he had never committed any crime worthy of imprisonment in a place like this.

If anything, he was more of a chivalrous rogue who had secretly helped others in need.

If he had any fault, it was simply that he was too consumed by his martial arts passion.

Driven by a single-minded desire to face the Blood Wolf Swordmaster Ban Jungyang, he had visited the mountain lodge on Antang Mountain every year for three years. When the swordmaster’s secluded training seemed endless, he had casually voiced his suspicions.

That was the day everything went wrong.

He had grown familiar with Ban Daeha after meeting several times and let his guard down.

After drinking the fine liquor Ban Daeha offered, he had passed out completely.

And when he opened his eyes, this was the state he found himself in.

Ban Daeha, who had been whipping him relentlessly, paused for a moment, a mad gleam in his eyes as he sneered.

“Ha ha ha! You used to laugh even while being beaten, but now it seems the laughter’s gone, huh? Is that the limit of the Thirty-Six Stars’ spirit?”

At those words, Muguk Paedo Pyo Seogeuk ground his teeth until they ached.

It was infuriating, but the bastard was right.

He no longer had the strength to endure the pain with a smile.

The poison he was forced to take regularly with his meals—Sangong poison—combined with the blood points Ban Daeha had pierced into him, had worn down even his formidable spirit over the past year.

Gnash!

Seogeuk glared at Ban Daeha with the eyes of a wounded beast.

But seeing the flicker of collapse in those eyes only made Ban Daeha’s smile widen with satisfaction.

A surge of intense pleasure coursed through him, making his whole body tremble.

The satisfaction of controlling one of the top-tier Thirty-Six Stars with his own hands was enough to heal the bruised pride he had felt earlier when reading about Seopung.

“Ha ha ha ha!”

Laughter spilled out uncontrollably.

It was addictive.

He wanted to break him even more, completely and utterly.

Then—

“Ke ke ke ke ke!”

Suddenly, Seogeuk began to laugh.

It was a laugh that seemed to signal he had regained some composure.

Ban Daeha stopped laughing and fixed him with a fierce glare.

“Why are you laughing? Want more beating?”

Seogeuk smiled as he answered.

“Isn’t it strange? No matter how fierce the tiger cub, how could a son like you come from the Swordmaster? Are you even his real son? Maybe the Swordmaster’s been drugged and locked away somewhere, and you’re just pretending to be his son, just like you did to me.”

Ban Daeha’s expression twisted with anger.

“What did you say?”

But Seogeuk didn’t stop.

“Isn’t it true? You told the women of the heretic sect that if they slept with you, you’d let them go, didn’t you?”

“!”

At those words, Ban Daeha flinched.

His face instantly hardened.

He was shocked that Seogeuk knew the truth.

Seogeuk scoffed.

“Ha ha ha! Don’t be so surprised. Lady Gyeong, who stayed in the room next to mine until last month, told me everything. And since she disappeared the next day, it’s safe to say she did what you said. Tell me, is that the kind of thing the son of the Swordmaster—the paragon of chivalry—would do? No way! If the Swordmaster knew, he’d have crushed you to dust first. So the truth is…”

At that moment—

Ban Daeha went berserk, whipping with all his might.

“Shut up! Shut your mouth!”

Whip crack! Whip crack! Whip crack! Whip crack! Whip crack!

The relentless lashes tore through Seogeuk’s skin, blood spraying everywhere.

The pain was so excruciating it felt like every hair on his head was standing on end.

But Seogeuk gritted his teeth.

He would never let out a groan in front of this bastard.