The Return of the Crazy Demon-Chapter 240: The Violet Seed
The White-Robed Scholar stopped immediately upon discovering the frozen corpses with Cheonak.
The two of them stared at the dead for a moment in silence.
“......”
Cheonak said.
“They were all cleanly killed.”
The White-Robed Scholar observed the corpses with his hands behind his back, then stepped into the center and looked at Cheonak.
“I released some cold energy here once.”
The White-Robed Scholar soared into the air, flipped mid-air, and landed.
“And then once more around here.”
Cheonak responded.
“You gave them Ice Arts?”
“In the past.”
“Then you’re the one who killed your own subordinates.”
“Do you have to phrase it like that?”
“It’s the truth.”
Cheonak spotted the Blind Scholar and quietly looked down at his corpse before asking,
“You gave him Thunder Qi too?”
“What?”
The White-Robed Scholar furrowed his brows, walked over, and checked the Blind Scholar’s condition.
“...Is it Thunder Qi?”
“Look at the condition of both temples.”
The White-Robed Scholar blinked and sighed.
“It wasn’t long since I gave it to him.”
Cheonak said,
“You’re planning to give everything away? He didn’t seem like someone you could control.”
“With you around, what’s there to worry about? If he bothers you, handle him whenever.”
“What the hell are you thinking these days?”
The White-Robed Scholar sighed.
“...Cheonak, Yi Zaha’s hatred isn’t aimed at us. Once he’s stronger, he’ll fight the Cult Leader. I feel bad that the Blind Scholar was lost, but you know the saying—‘the enemy of my enemy is my ally.’ We can use him.”
“And what if you’re the one being used?”
“That’s a blow to my pride. When have I ever just let things happen to me?”
Cheonak waved his hand.
“Step aside. I’m going to deal with the corpses.”
The White-Robed Scholar clicked his tongue.
“Tsk.”
In a flash, the White-Robed Scholar appeared some distance away, watching Cheonak with his hands behind his back.
Cheonak looked around, then stomped his left foot, caving in the ground in a wide area. Then he reappeared beside the White-Robed Scholar, stretched his hand into the air, and summoned a faint palm that blanketed the area before slamming into the pit, turning the corpses to dust.
Afterward, both Cheonak and the White-Robed Scholar waved their hands at once, dispersing the dust in a whirlwind.
The White-Robed Scholar looked at Cheonak.
“You’ve gotten pretty familiar with the Cult Leader’s techniques.”
“I merely imitated them. Baek family bastard.”
“What.”
Cheonak stared at the remains and said,
“Becoming the best in the world isn’t easy. You told me I was just one step away, didn’t you?”
“I did.”
“That one step is taking way too long. But let’s say I do become the best in the world.”
“Keep going. We’ve got mountains of work to do. What’s the issue?”
“Then what’s our next goal? You’re the one who told me to focus solely on training. You must have a plan.”
The White-Robed Scholar nodded.
“I do. Of course I do.”
“You do? I’ve never heard it.”
“Sit down. Let’s talk sitting. Don’t get mad.”
The White-Robed Scholar plopped to the ground and stared at the dispersing dust. Cheonak, still annoyed, looked at him.
The White-Robed Scholar said,
“If you find me that unbearable, just cut down my Celestial Spirit Dog.”
“......”
“If you’re not going to kill me, then sit.”
Cheonak sat beside him and stared at the pit.
The White-Robed Scholar began to speak.
“There is a next plan.”
“I hope it’s not another pointless plan to unify the other manor halls.”
“It’s not.”
Maintaining a calm expression, the White-Robed Scholar spoke in a composed tone.
“First and foremost, you becoming the best in the world is still the most important. That hasn’t changed.”
“Spare me the political analysis. I know everything now.”
“How can someone focused solely on training keep up with the shifting tides? Listen closely. Once you become a Martial God, there’ll be a lot of work. The other manor hall leaders will come to pay their respects.”
“They’ll really come?”
“Keep training in light footwork too. You’ve got to steal the title of Swift Party Leader.”
“Get to the point.”
The White-Robed Scholar nodded.
“My plan... always revolves around you. I’ve laid the foundation for you to become a Martial God with the knowledge I compiled. Now, take the most talented kid in the world as your disciple and teach him.”
“I already have a ton of disciples. What’s the point?”
The White-Robed Scholar smiled.
“Have you ever personally taught one? And you know they’re all slaves. Murderers, rapists, degenerates—rounded up and used as slaves. They’re not real disciples. I couldn’t bring myself to call them that.”
“There were a few decent ones, weren’t there?”
“I’m not talking about mine. I’m talking about your disciples.”
“So what would I do with a new disciple?”
“Kill another emperor. Kill another Cult Leader. Watch Cheonak’s disciple reign. Not resonating yet, huh? Your disciple, man. Ever taught anyone?”
“No.”
“Do you just not want to teach? Am I supposed to do that too? Then it wouldn’t be your disciple, but mine.”
“You want me to start a martial sect?”
The White-Robed Scholar laughed.
“That’s up to you. Whether you pass it on to just one, form your own secret society, or outright seize a mountain to establish a sect—it’s your call. Consolidate all you’ve learned, and pass it on to your disciple. Organize everything and create something new.”
“What’s the point?”
“Don’t think about meaning first. Think about fun. Interest, I mean. Your disciple could shake up the world, torment bastards like the Cult Leader. Who knows? If you raise him well, he might become the Martial Alliance Leader. Why not? We’re the ones who sinned. The new disciples won’t carry that burden. Don’t you have confidence? Your disciple wouldn’t suit the role?”
Cheonak thought for a moment and replied.
“Baek family bastard, think about it. If I teach him, he’ll be dead within a year or two. How’s that different from turning a kid into a corpse?”
The White-Robed Scholar trembled a hand and ran it through his hair.
“Look, that’s why I’m here. Listen carefully. I’ll explain the conditions for someone to become your disciple.”
“There’s such a thing?”
“I know you, don’t I? Your disciple must be physically strong. Born with natural strength. In simple terms, someone with the build to be a general. Their personality should be somewhat upright. They need that to survive your training methods. If they’re too clever, it won’t work. Doesn’t match your nature. They need to be straightforward.”
“If they’re dumb, they’ll never learn Ascendant Martial Arts.”
“I don’t even know what counts as ‘dumb.’”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve always thought the Beggars’ Sect Leader was dumb. But look—he’s still stronger than me. So what even is dumb? Oh, there’s dumb: raising a disciple like Noshin. That’s idiotic. The Beggars’ Sect Leader is a dumbass, sure. But you can’t do that. Your disciple will be better than Noshin at least, right?”
“If he’s like Noshin, I’ll beat him to death while teaching.”
The White-Robed Scholar pointed at Cheonak.
“That’s exactly what I mean. That’s a master’s duty. Beat him to death if needed. But you have to teach a proper disciple. A disciple of the Martial God... how’s that sound?”
“I’m not a Martial God yet.”
The White-Robed Scholar slapped his thigh repeatedly.
“You frustrating bastard. Become a Martial God, take a disciple, teach him, send him out! Make him the leader of the Alliance! Have him visit during holidays! Beat him if he doesn’t! That’s how it should be!”
Cheonak said with an annoyed look,
“I heard Yi Zaha had a similar plan. You’re not making this up to toy with me, are you?”
The White-Robed Scholar clicked his tongue.
“Hey, there aren’t many experts in Jianghu without disciples. Good point you made. If Yi Zaha raises a disciple, and your disciple gets beaten by his, how shameful would that be? You’d have to slap Yi Zaha’s face just for that. Am I wrong?”
Cheonak looked at the White-Robed Scholar.
“Then are you going to raise a proper disciple too?”
“I have too much work. No time for that. You’re the one delving into martial knowledge. I handle everything else. So raising a disciple suits you better. Think it over. What kind of qualities should a child have to inherit your martial arts? If you’re too lazy, I’ll scour the world and bring someone to you.”
Suddenly, Cheonak smacked the White-Robed Scholar on the head.
After taking the hit, the White-Robed Scholar replied,
“Why hit me all of a sudden?”
Cheonak said,
“Felt like I was getting tricked again. So I hit you. I’ll fall for it again.”
“Are you crazy? Don’t hit the head. This head of mine is why you and I are still alive. You trying to make me a dumbass?”
Cheonak replied,
“If you’re that smart, you shouldn’t have killed the Blind Scholar.”
The White-Robed Scholar let out a long sigh.
“Like I could make every plan work out. Listen. If Noshin had struck the Sect Leader first, things would’ve gone completely sideways. The chaos would've made it impossible to fight properly. If Noshin didn’t listen, I would’ve cut his head off and thrown it at Shin Gae. Could the Sect Leader have fought clearly?”
“Then why didn’t you?”
The White-Robed Scholar slapped his forehead.
“How could I have known that crazy bastard Yi Zaha would carry Shin Gae on his back and run? Carry him? Who does that? He ran off with one of the Three Calamities on his back. And that crazy beggar—why the hell did he allow it? There’s no way I could’ve predicted that. We lost the Blind Scholar chasing after them. His poor eyesight made him unfit for pursuit. The plan collapsed because of that. If I had seen that coming, I’d be the greatest genius in history. So what do you think? Was it my fault? Is it on me again? Am I the only villain here?”
Cheonak sighed as well.
“I didn’t expect that either.”
“That’s what saved the Sect Leader. He’s got luck. Leave him alone for now. Luck is a kind of skill. Or maybe a blessing.”
Cheonak muttered discontentedly.
“You’re supposed to be the strategist, but you don’t do anything right.”
“That’s an insult.”
“You want another smack?”
“I’ll take it as advice. Actually, this works better.”
“What does?”
“The Three Calamities should be defeated by skill. If we relied on luck, the Cult Leader could beat us. That guy’s not one for schemes. Since this was my mistake, go ahead and hit me again.”
“You dumbass. If you get any dumber, it’s a problem. Let’s go.”
The White-Robed Scholar stood and pointed ahead.
“Let’s go.”
As the White-Robed Scholar sighed, Cheonak asked,
“What was that sigh for?”
“Nothing.”
Following Cheonak, the White-Robed Scholar muttered under his breath.
“...Yi Zaha, you son of a bitch.”
***
I was walking while digging in one ear, thinking about Noshin.
How the hell did someone like Noshin end up as a disciple of such a fine man like the Sect Leader?
Maybe the Sect Leader had been too kind to him.
Noshin didn’t suit a beggar’s life. He had his eyes on the Sect Leader’s seat, and the scholar position too.
As I walked with Shin Gae toward the bridge, I thought about what kind of disciple I should take.
Given my personality, I’d never treat one kindly like the Sect Leader had.
That part was already solved.
Then what kind of person should I take as a disciple?
Someone who learns martial arts fast? Someone kind? Someone smart?
Thinking through it all, I suddenly realized I had incredibly high standards.
They had to be kind to the weak, unyielding to the strong, and sharp enough to survive. They shouldn’t be too naive or trusting—they’d get stabbed in the back. They needed to be suspicious when necessary. If they were to become a Grandmaster, they had to be smart enough to learn martial arts quickly, and also teach others well someday.
They needed natural insight and the ability to explain things clearly.
Looks didn’t matter much, but they shouldn’t hate their own appearance—that could lead to inferiority complexes. And those cause trouble.
But they couldn’t be too handsome either.
Otherwise, women would be all over them.
So internally, they needed self-esteem, pride, and confidence.
Externally, they had to fight well, speak well, not get fooled easily, know when to suspect others, not waste time on drinking and partying, and not hang out with friends every other day—so fewer human relationships were better. They’d be holed up training most of the time anyway. Ideally, they wouldn’t be too good-looking, but not too ugly either.
That was my disciple criteria.
Putting it all together...
I figured I might as well forget the whole thing. The Sect Leader asked me,
“Why are you sighing so heavily?”
I answered ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) calmly,
“There are too many sons of bitches in Jianghu.”
The Sect Leader nodded.
“That’s true.”
“Is there no martial art specifically for beating bastards?”
“I’ll come up with one. But we don’t use blades. We’d have to base it on the staff techniques passed down in the Beggars’ Sect. I’ll teach you once it’s done.”
“No.”
“Why?”
I looked at the Sect Leader.
“From now on, only those designated as the next Sect Leader should be taught exclusive martial arts or techniques. Make it a law in the Beggars’ Sect. That way, bastards like Noshin won’t steal them so easily. It’s a bit closed-off, but there’s no choice. It’ll prevent fools like Noshin from chasing empty dreams.”
Remembering what Noshin had said, the Sect Leader nodded with a bitter look.
“You’re right.”
Only after seeing the state of the Beggars’ Sect firsthand did I realize that a lack of rules created big problems. Fortunately, the Sect Leader seemed to agree with me.
