While the eldest brother faced off against the Pagoda King, I observed many things. Above all, the Pagoda King had brought along a large entourage of retainers.

Truth be told, the word "retainer" is rather old-fashioned.

For example, the terms “swordsman” or “assassin” originally derived from “retainer.”

But like all words, these too seem to shift in status, nuance, and meaning over time.

Right now, it feels to me as if “retainer” ranks below swordsman or assassin.

After watching the eldest brother begin to wield the Bright Sword...

I changed my mind again.

It felt like the swordsman stood at the pinnacle of all “guests.”

Maybe it’s because I’m a swordsman too.

In truth, the eldest brother holds “swordsman” in higher regard than even his own nickname, the Sword Demon. If that weren’t the case, we’d have already heard the screams of lost souls erupting from the blade.

It seems the Cult Leader always wished for the eldest brother to become a Sword Demon who devours the souls of men. And if I were to speak frankly, so do I. It’s better than watching him die. The difference is, I don’t intend to force him like the Cult Leader does. No matter how one fights, taking responsibility for the result is a personal burden.

Unexpectedly, the Pagoda King was stronger than I had anticipated.

Which means the late War Demon, who died by his hand, wasn’t just some average master.

Watching such an intense battle, a dark thought began to creep up from within.

‘Eldest brother, fighting like that—can you really defeat one of the Three Calamities?’

Just as the Cult Leader had constantly tempted the eldest brother to become a Sword Demon, I found myself looking at him with the same hope.

Because even if he becomes a demon, survival is the priority. 𝕗𝗿𝕖𝐞𝐰𝗲𝕓𝐧𝕠𝕧𝗲𝐥.𝚌𝐨𝚖

Just like the Cult Leader back during the succession wars.

Life is worth that much.

But perhaps what follows afterward is even more important? There’s a difference between those who can regret and those who never do.

At least I managed to resolve a long-held question.

I finally understood the difference between the Cult Leader and us.

The Cult Leader, in never regretting anything, is closer to being inhuman.

While we, who hold regret in our hearts, still walk the path toward completion. Of course, if we end up beaten senseless by the Cult Leader later, we’ll regret everything in a heap of agony.

But that’s life.

Every person I’ve seen carries their own regrets in their heart.

...The Sword Demon deflected the Pagoda King’s grotesque greatsword while thinking constantly of War Demon. He knew War Demon. Though younger by three or four years, War Demon was a man worthy of the Right Guardian’s seat.

How was their relationship?

They had none.

War Demon was a man who followed orders when given—nothing more.

As always, the Sword Demon had acknowledged him as a capable man, yet never once spoke to him kindly.

They’d never shared a drink.

Never exchanged small talk.

He merely knew the man’s face, his martial arts style, and had a vague grasp of his temperament. Like most subordinates, they shared only one trait: an intense hatred for defeat. War Demon’s death gave no real reason for grief, and if the Sword Demon were to die somewhere unknown, War Demon wouldn’t have mourned either.

Then why did he feel so unsettled?

Why was his heart boiling with rage?

Even as he wielded the Bright Sword, the Sword Demon couldn’t view his own state with clarity.

If he had walked a path more like the Great Elder’s, perhaps he could have drawn more people out of the cult. Lost in this hopeless thought, he chose to be honest with himself.

What truly enraged him...

Was the fact that in all those years, he had never even shared a drink with War Demon. The fact that, like the Cult Leader, he had never truly cared for his subordinates. In the end, he was no different from the Right Guardian he once was.

War Demon was a man who couldn’t flatter to save his life...

Yet he could smile on occasion.

By contrast, the Sword Demon had always looked at his subordinates with a stiff, emotionless face. A defector has no reason to avenge the cult.

This was simply—

Revenge for a slightly younger brother who, like him, had been stripped of a name and called by a number.

Whether cultist or defector—what did it matter?

As the grotesque greatsword of the charging Pagoda King clashed with the Bright Sword, the Sword Demon lost his footing mid-defense and was hurled straight through the air.

While regaining balance midair, he heard the third’s voice cut through his ears.

“...Eldest brother, are you out of your mind? What are you doing, lost in thought during a fight? Are you trying to get killed? You want me to snap you out of it? You gonna pull it together or not? Should I serve you dinner tonight to get your head straight? Maybe a taste of my noodles will do the trick?”

Whenever the third brother nagged, the Sword Demon often felt like blood might burst from his ears. This was one of those times.

“That damn nagging...”

The Pagoda King, approaching with a relaxed expression, spoke.

“Former Right Guardian—just as the rumors say.”

The Sword Demon replied.

“What rumor?”

“The one that says you shy away from demonic arts. So now, suddenly, you want to fight like a Murim Alliance leader? You’re weaker than the rumors say. It’s boring... If you fight like this, you’re no different from War Demon.”

The Sword Demon inhaled, then answered.

“If I’m stronger without using demonic arts, then there’s no reason to use them.”

“And you think you’re like that now?”

The Sword Demon shook his head.

“I’m still training. If I appear lacking, I ask your understanding. Pagoda King... based on your skill, you certainly deserve your nickname. But I don’t understand why you rely on the Wi Clan. If you were raised eating and sleeping under their roof, then I get it.”

Whatever rubbed him the wrong way, the Pagoda King charged again.

The Sword Demon discarded his distractions and entered the Dokgo Junggeom.

To enter the Dokgo Junggeom was to abandon defense.

It had always been difficult for him to shift his mindset away from his original sword style.

Dokgo Junggeom is purely offensive.

He had to discard all defensive and reactive forms he’d once learned, so adapting hadn’t come easy. He had come to realize this was a rhythm-based sword art, but mastering it was difficult—because following that rhythm meant staking his life on it.

To forgo defense...

He parried the Pagoda King’s strike with a near-identical trajectory. As the two were knocked back and clashed again, the Sword Demon found the optimal line and brought the Bright Sword to the Pagoda King’s throat a half-beat faster.

Forced to deflect it with his grotesque greatsword—

That was the moment the Dokgo Junggeom truly began.

With the initiative seized, the Sword Demon attacked like a man who had forgotten what defense even was. He stabbed for the throat, the side, targeted the feet of the retreating Pagoda King, then unleashed a burst of sword wind and pursued. He increased his speed, multiplied the afterimages of his sword, and struck in succession from above—head, neck, chest—until he discovered the rhythm of the assault.

It was a subtle rhythm...

One that changed depending on the Pagoda King’s response.

His breathing, movements, counterattacks, habits, internal energy, and external energy—all were absorbed into the rhythm of the Sword Demon’s blade. This was not a sword art that could be grasped through calculation alone.

More than anything, it had to be internalized by the hand.

And at the same time, the mind had to anticipate the opponent’s reactions in advance.

Even if one mastered all this, a single mistake would bring instant death.

That’s why unless you were willing to stake your life first, you could never unleash the Sword of Life and Death—this was what the Dokgo Junggeom truly was.

And in that moment, when the Sword Demon felt he had bet his life—

He realized the Dokgo Junggeom was more dangerous than the demonic arts.

Because demonic arts leaned more toward self-preservation. So then—what sword art best suits the Demonic Path?

In the end, the Dokgo Junggeom, with its moment-to-moment, life-on-the-line decisions, was the most fitting sword art for the Demonic Path under heaven.

This was something even a man like the Sword Demon had only realized after staking his life.

As he launched an unbroken chain of attacks against the Pagoda King—

He felt satisfied with himself for the first time in a long while.

This level of swordsmanship lacked nothing to be called Demonic.

He thought: he would no longer feel shame before the ones he had slain.

Nor before the subordinates who had died meaningless deaths.

Strangely enough, as the Dokgo Junggeom was delivered with more confidence and strengthened rhythm, its power grew ever greater.

It felt like swinging a sword while standing on the blade of another.

Like a madman, the Sword Demon danced with his sword and added a psychological trap into the Dokgo Junggeom.

At a specific moment, he subtly twisted the rhythm so it appeared as though there was a single opening in his sword dance.

That supposed opening lay in his left arm, which had already become impervious to blades due to the demonic energy seeping into it.

This act of revealing an opening had already been tested against the Sword King.

So, in the midst of battle, the Sword Demon once again realized just how terrifying Baekdo's biwu was. Because he had already experimented with this against the Sword King, he could now apply it quite naturally to the Dokgo Junggeom he was unleashing.

In other words, killing the Pagoda King...

...was equivalent to killing him alongside the Sword King, who had once fought him evenly.

While executing a flawless sword dance, the Sword Demon faintly exposed only a slight weakness in his left arm. Easy to say, but this ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) was a minute gap forged through a lifetime of training. Even then, the Dokgo Junggeom, woven into the rhythm, remained intact and relentlessly drove the Pagoda King back. The Sword Demon realized that had he fought the Pagoda King before going to Manjang Gorge, the fight would have been much harder.

Seeing the Pagoda King drenched in sweat yet maintaining an unshaken fighting spirit, the Sword Demon chuckled slightly.

He only laughed—yet for some reason, it reminded him of the Third.

Thinking about it, it was probably because this was the first time he’d laughed in the middle of a fight.

The Sword Demon, who had been ruthlessly overwhelming the Pagoda King with attacks, suddenly opened his mouth like a man who had completely let his guard down.

“Say, Pagoda King, about the War Demon—”

Before he could even finish speaking, the Pagoda King’s grotesque greatsword came crashing down vertically and struck squarely on the upper part of the Sword Demon’s shoulder.

Thud!

But the Sword Demon, having stepped in at that very moment, had already driven the Lightbringer Sword through the Pagoda King’s arm holding the grotesque blade. Without even allowing the strike to fully land, the Sword Demon gripped the Lightbringer Sword with both hands, split the Pagoda King’s arm into two, and in the same motion, instantly slashed through his neck.

Splurt!

The Pagoda King's right arm was torn apart, and as he instinctively moved to counter with his left, his hands instead moved according to human instinct—to grasp at his own throat. Blood spouted like fountains from both his arm and neck.

The Sword Demon shook the blood off the Lightbringer Sword and looked at the Pagoda King, who had fallen on his rear.

“......”

Never before had the Sword Demon embedded so many feints and tricks into his sword and movements.

Yet looking at the Pagoda King's expression now, why did it feel so satisfying?

The Sword Demon spoke.

“A traitor has no reason to avenge a cultist. But this is clearly revenge for War Demon, little brother. Pagoda King.”

The retainers shouted all at once and charged in. But before they could reach him, the Sword Demon swung his sword once more and lopped off the Pagoda King’s head.

As blood erupted high from the Pagoda King's body...

A rush of hidden weapons, sword wind, and sword energy surged toward the Sword Demon, as the retainers of the Myeongcheon clan launched a combined assault in defiance of Jianghu’s code.

The Sword Demon swung his left arm, sweeping away the multicolored ambush and sudden attacks in a flash, then lowered his sword diagonally to the lower right.

Just retainers of a house belonging to the outer division?

The Sword Demon wasn’t the type to assign meaning to the deaths of such people.

Wearing an unusual smile, the Sword Demon welcomed the approaching retainers.

“Come, then.”

In that moment, the ones charging in from the very front froze solid, and the Third dropped down from the sky. With a burst of ice arts, the Third instantly froze part of the retainers, then turned his head to look at the Sword Demon.

There was nothing in particular to say.

The Third gave a sly grin and, drawing his One-Kill Sword, spoke.

“Knew it’d turn out like this. Total chaos, as always. It’s always like this.”

The Sword Demon wanted to say something back to the Third’s blabbering, but couldn’t quite find the words in the moment. Instead, he walked up beside the Third, gave him a light tap on the shoulder, and walked off toward the remaining enemies.

“Let’s go.”

...A short distance away, Commander Geumho and Commander Eunyong let out a simultaneous sigh.

“......”

The sigh was followed by three more in succession. The former Left Guardian and the Haomun Master were already brandishing their swords against the more numerous retainers of the Jungcheon clan.

Commander Geumho and Commander Eunyong looked at each other’s faces.

Of course, the Jungcheon clan should be winning, but their expressions betrayed that they both knew otherwise. That was why the sighs kept coming.

Commander Geumho finally opened his mouth.

“What will you do? Are your injuries severe?”

Commander Eunyong cleared his throat and replied.

“The internal injuries are deep—I think I should stay back a bit. Will you come with me?”

Commander Geumho nodded.

“Let’s catch up with our subordinates first.”

The two of them chose to flee for now. The Seven Killers of Yunnan, watching nearby, looked on in disbelief, but they simply accepted it as a momentary disgrace and chose escape. As they hurried away, the ever-candid Commander Geumho added one more remark.

“Now that the Pagoda bastard’s dead, I feel refreshed.”

Commander Eunyong replied.

“That’s... a bit of a controversial thing to say, isn’t it?”

“In a life-or-death duel, what’s there to be controversial about? It was a fair fight.”

Even as he used light footwork to flee, Commander Geumho justified his own retreat.

“...Honestly, I just don’t want to fight the former Left Guardian. Not because I’m afraid.”

“Same here.”

Though they didn’t know exactly how the former Left Guardian fought, the deafening booms coming from the direction of the Sword Demon and Haomun Master suggested that things were not going poorly for their side—at least judging by the number of screams coming from the enemy.