There was still liquor left, but the Cult Leader stood up.

I could have spent the whole night drinking and rambling, but the Cult Leader gave me no chance to speak further.

I followed him, reaching out toward the entrance. Whether he wanted it or not, I intended to see him off.

The Cult Leader glanced around the Zaha Inn, then turned away.

Not simply because he was strong—but because he’d toured all of Ilyang County before appearing, even I couldn’t treat him carelessly.

Matching his pace, I walked beside him on his right.

From experience, it’s the crazy bastard who stands on the Cult Leader’s right. So I took the Right Guardian’s place and walked with him for a moment.

At the entrance, the Cult Leader gave me a look as if swatting away a bothersome fly, so I had no choice but to speak.

“When else will I get to walk with the Cult Leader? Let’s go.”

He probably wanted to tell me to piss off, but the Cult Leader had his own lines he wouldn’t cross, so he didn’t speak carelessly.

His steps were slow.

I walked beside him, as if clearing away the darkness that had cloaked the Zaha Inn. I wanted to call out my eldest brother and walk together, but I couldn’t drag along someone who didn’t want to come.

As we walked, I asked the Cult Leader:

“Will you also bring around ten people from the cult?”

“Fewer than that.”

“By the way... when did you surpass the other Three Calamities?”

“I already knew in the middle of a fight.”

I nodded and tried out a guess I had been mulling over.

“Senior Cheonak seemed to have an inkling. Was I right?”

“Each has their own thoughts. Who knows.”

Only now did I fully grasp that the ranking in the world was: Cult Leader, Cheonak, then Shin Gae. The reason the other Calamities secluded themselves in training was now crystal clear.

From what I guessed, the three of them probably never used mutually-destructive techniques on each other. Or perhaps they still held some final trump cards...

At any rate, no one had held overwhelming superiority back then.

Maybe a slight upper hand?

Over time, both Shin Gae and Cheonak must have realized the gap between them and the Cult Leader would only grow—so they dedicated themselves to training.

It was certain the Cult Leader held the advantage, but if both Shin Gae and Cheonak resolved to die taking him down, the Cult Leader wouldn’t survive either. That was reality.

Now, it was anyone’s guess.

Even walking beside him, I couldn’t read the Cult Leader’s breathing. I couldn’t gauge his level, nor detect any openings.

Just walking next to him made my hands and feet feel slightly clumsy.

Because I was tense.

But taking a beating before the real fight is often a better strategy, so walking with him like this might’ve been the smartest move I’d made since coming here.

Despite entering alongside the Cult Leader, the cultists all kept their mouths shut.

But all eyes were on me.

There wasn’t another attention seeker quite like me, after all.

They stared at me like I was some kind of exotic beast. I turned to the black-clad cultists and said:

“...Listen up, cultists. Since the position of Right Guardian is vacant again, I’ll temporarily take the role.”

“...!”

The Left Guardian, standing nearby, sharply turned his head, furrowed his brows, glared at me, then looked to the Cult Leader.

The Cult Leader, faced with my unexpected nonsense, just stared.

“......”

Sensing the moment was ripe, I locked eyes with him. The Cult Leader finally spoke.

“Lord of the Gate, what kind of bullshit is that?”

I ignored him and looked back at the cultists.

“The new Lightbringer Guardian got killed by the old one. The one before him left because his mental health was shaky. That means it’s vacant. I’ll fill the position until I meet your Cult Leader again at Mount Hua. If I die there, I’ll give up the post. Until then, even if you covet the seat, don’t aim for it. None of you are ready yet.”

The Left Guardian opened his mouth.

“Cult Leader, the Lord of the Gate’s joke is rather...”

The Cult Leader replied,

“It’s a joke. Let it go.”

“Yes.”

The Left Guardian turned to me.

“Lord of the Gate, save those jokes for the right setting.”

I stared him down. This bastard clearly didn’t know who I was. A man who can joke like this is someone ready to risk his life.

“Left Guardian.”

“Speak.”

“That greedy rat-face obsessed with money.”

“What?”

“You’re all about the money. With that devious mind and flattery, I bet you’re the best in the world at brown-nosing. If you want to claim the Guardian title, then go settle it with the old Guardian rotting in that abandoned inn over there. He's the one holding the Lightbringer Sword. So how can you call yourself Guardian? Have some shame.”

The Left Guardian pointed a finger at me, ready to attack.

I stared at that finger and said:

“...I hear you’ve been using the lives of cultists to grow your family’s wealth.”

His eyes widened instantly.

I continued,

“You’re not going to die peacefully. Don’t forget to come to Mount Hua. Whether I kill you or Senior Cheonak does, I want to see someone beat the crap out of you. Got it? I’ll spare you for today.”

The Left Guardian’s face turned crimson, as if struck by a blazing palm strike. With the Cult Leader silent nearby, he looked like he didn’t know what to do.

But I just chuckled to myself.

The Cult Leader said,

“Lord of the Gate.”

“Yes?”

“You really do have the sharpest tongue in all of Jianghu.”

I casually made a fist-and-palm salute.

“Too kind, too kind.”

Still not laughing?

I had just witnessed the best [N O V E L I G H T] in the world at holding back laughter.

“Impressive. Such deep self-control.”

The Cult Leader turned to provoke the man further.

“Left Guardian.”

“Yes.”

“If you’re that upset, settle it right here and now. Duel the Lord of the Gate. Or go fight the old Guardian inside. What’s your decision?”

The Left Guardian seemed quick-witted and answered immediately.

“...Cult Leader, I’ll ascend Mount Hua as well.”

The Cult Leader gave a mocking smirk and said to him:

“So much for your composure. Even you can’t stand the Lord of the Gate’s jokes.”

The Left Guardian finally came to his senses and bowed his head.

“Yes, I’ll keep that in mind.”

I asked the Cult Leader:

“Has the Third Young Master returned? Haven’t seen him in a while.”

“He’s busy settling his mother’s family affairs.”

“He’s got a subordinate named Sam Bok. Sharp and dependable.”

The Cult Leader replied,

“What do you want me to do with that?”

“It’s called a recommendation. Whether friend or foe, a loyal subordinate deserves praise. Just making you money doesn’t make someone loyal.”

I kept targeting the Left Guardian to the end.

The Cult Leader gave a faint smile and nodded.

“You’re right.”

From that slight shift in his expression, I knew—he didn’t particularly like the Left Guardian either. The Cult Leader was someone who always assessed and used his subordinates with precision.

The atmosphere had grown awkward, so I decided to seriously explain why I’d walked with him.

“...Though we stand as enemies, thank you for sparing my young disciple. And for sparing Jang Deok-soo, Hongshin, and the ordinary people of Ilyang County. Whatever the reason, today could have easily been the day the Sword Demon and I died.”

I looked at the Cult Leader and gave him a calm bow.

“Go safely. I’ll see you at Mount Hua.”

Showing respect to the Cult Leader was difficult for me. But when I thought of Yoran, of Deok-soo and his wife—I could show far more if needed.

The Cult Leader gave me a slight nod and stepped onto his carriage.

“Let’s go.”

The cultists all turned in unison, following the carriage. No one offered me any parting respect, but given the nature of our kill-or-be-killed relationship, it didn’t matter.

I stared at the departing carriage and watched the accompanying troops for a long time.

Though we hadn’t fought, each time I breathed, I imagined wiping out every cultist aside from the Cult Leader—and held myself back.

There was still more I wanted to say, but the mood stopped me.

“I should’ve talked more...”

It almost felt like the Cult Leader was leaving just to avoid hearing more of my words.

He wasn’t the type of man you could have a proper conversation with anyway.

In the end, I didn’t tell him what I wanted to say most: that if a full-scale war broke out, no matter the Cult Leader’s power, the rest of the cultists here would all die at my and the Sword Demon’s hands.

That on the day we meet again at Mount Hua...

I hope—just once in my life—I’ll get to fight a glorious battle, knock down the greatest masters, and feel something close to happiness. After all, I have no problem fighting martial artists like myself.

Someone so cloaked in darkness needs to feel happiness to change.

But the Cult Leader was someone who had enclosed himself within a mental fortress of eternal iron walls.

No one looked back at me, but I stood watching until all the cultists were gone.

Saying I wanted to become the Right Guardian was a joke—

—but my gratitude for him sparing Yoran and the weak was not. That’s the most important thing in my mental world. Saying it aloud was only natural.

I turned back and looked at the ruined Zaha Inn that had never even opened for business.

“It’s ruined again.”

But it wasn’t just the Zaha Inn that had failed.

I could have died too—so I had to make good use of whatever time remained.

I stood at the entrance and looked at the Seven Killers of Yunnan. Even Manbak Magun, usually full of petty antics, was completely silent. They looked like refugees left behind after a typhoon.

I thought of sending them away, but kept them for my brother’s meal.

“...Let’s eat.”

The one in charge of their meals replied in a quiet tone:

“Yes, Lord of the Gate.”

When I returned, my brother finally sat at the table and asked:

“Did you say everything you wanted?”

I sat down across from him and replied:

“No. He’s a difficult man. Seemed like he didn’t want to listen.”

My brother snorted and said:

“Yeah. Probably left before he got drawn in too deep by your words.”

“He’s that sharp?”

My brother nodded.

“No one’s ever talked that much in front of the Cult Leader. Still, when he limited the number to ten, it meant he wants to watch others fight too. His only hobbies since youth were fighting himself or watching others fight. Most of the cultists aren’t any different, really.”

I tilted my head.

“That’s strange, though. There’s no one but him or Senior Cheonak who could face a real master.”

“Someone like the Left Guardian might try to fight me or Cheonak. Or a bunch of them might gang up on a slightly weaker master. That probably feels balanced enough for them.”

“One match of Biwu. One duel to the death. Two rounds total. We’ll see what the situation calls for.”

We wouldn’t know for sure until we got there.

As my brother raised his drink to his lips, he paused and looked toward the entrance.

“....”

When I turned, I saw the Lecher—now likely head of the Beggars’ Sect branch—panting as he entered. His clothes were torn in places, and someone else’s blood was splattered all over his face and garments.

He came to the table and said to my brother:

“Master, I’ve returned.”

My brother looked him up and down.

“Any injuries?”

He looked like he’d torn through multiple battlefields like Zhao Yun, but the bastard answered confidently:

“No injuries, sir.”

“Well done.”

He sat to my right, and my brother poured him a drink. The Lecher downed it like water and let out a long breath. Steam rose gently from the crown of his head.

He turned to me.

“Anything happen here?”

I nodded.

“The Cult Leader was here.”

“I see... wait, what?”

“He took the One-Kill Sword. We agreed to meet again at Mount Hua.”

He nodded and reported to my brother:

“Master, the Fist King and Yi Gun-ak are both injured. The wounds aren’t bad, but they inhaled poison mist—they’ll be down for a while.”

The Cult Leader had said the Fist King’s side suffered the most. Guess the Lecher being involved explains it.

I poured drinks for the both of them.

As the Lecher drank, he suddenly turned his head and looked toward the Seven Killers cooking rice.

“Who are they? They look like Dark Path thugs.”

I answered for them.

“They’re not Dark Path.”

He looked at me.

“Then what?”

I looked at Manbak Magun and replied.

“Jomsoi and the kitchen staff.”

The Lecher lost interest in them quickly, then pulled a crumpled cloth from his coat. He placed it on the table and smoothed out the wrinkles.

“...Fist King said there were no flags, so I made one before coming. He asked me to pass it on.”

My brother and I looked at the wrinkled flag from the Fist King.

In bold handwriting...

The single character for fist was written.

I met my brother’s eyes, and we laughed at the same time. My strategy had been seen through and failed, but this felt like a gift.

I lifted the flag with both hands and admired it like a piece of art.

“A precious gift.”

It was a gift that touched only me.