Episode 205. Anyway, There Are a Lot of Madmen in This World.

In all my life, I had never practiced circulating qi and regulating breath with such a calm heart as I did now. But as the third day began, my inner condition was not so easy. At times I was terribly cold, shivering all over, and there were moments when the fear that I might freeze to death like this came over me.

Concentrating the mind is sometimes akin to dreaming, and it can show hallucinations more vivid than dreams.

This was one of those times.

To say a hallucination is vivid may sound illogical at first.

But when one studies martial arts, there are times when one enters realms difficult to explain in words or writing. It would have been nice if this had remained nothing more than a sensation, but I was actually cold.

It felt as though, before tormenting my enemies with ice arts, I was being punished in an icy hell first.

Within the hallucination, my two feet froze first. After that, I pushed through snow that had risen to my waist and headed for the summit of a snowy mountain.

How much time had passed?

I did not know.

At times like this, there was no way to tell. I simply walked, battered by a blizzard accompanied by gusting winds, with my eyes, nose, and mouth frozen stiff.

In situations like this, if I rashly borrowed the help of the Golden Turtle Wandering Art or tried to find an easier path upward, there was a chance I would fall off a cliff or remain frozen, unable to wake from the dream.

Naturally, I had to choose the path of hardship.

It was bitterly cold, moderately lonely, and all manner of worries and fears were mixed together, but I climbed while laughing from time to time.

I crawled up the snowy mountain, where there was nothing but the blizzard, for another half day and arrived at a vast snowy plateau. The air was thin, making it no easy matter to breathe, but the wind was slowly dying down.

Guessing that my realm in the ice art had risen another step, a sigh of relief escaped me.

I thought I had reached the very end of the Crescent Moon stage of the Moon Shadow Heartless Art.

‘That’s enough for today.’

I did not even dream of reaching the Full Moon stage. It was not divided into such detailed stages as the Golden Turtle Wandering Art, but it was clearly bound to be as vast as the Super Chicken stage and Golden Turtle stage combined.

I lay spread-eagled on the cold snowy plateau, then closed my eyes with an easy heart.

At the same time, I opened my eyes in reality and let out a long breath.

“Hoo……”

A cold mist flowed out with my breath. I tried to open my eyes, only to feel as if my eyelids were tearing.

It seemed the aftereffects of the ice art had truly affected my whole body, because I felt damp all over. When I finally managed to open my eyes, all of the Four Great Evils nearby were staring at me.

“Ah, shit. You scared me.”

“…….”

My heart dropped.

It was because, before my sense of reality had returned, I found myself surrounded by devils like the Lecherous Demon, the Ghost Demon, and the Sword Demon. Every one of their expressions was as murderous as could be. As I barely came to my senses, the Ghost Demon sighed and said,

“Sect Master, are you all right? I thought you had fallen into qi deviation.”

“As if. I’m fine.”

I had experienced enough qi deviation in my past life as the Mad Demon. It was an experience I never wanted to go through again.

The Lecherous Demon glared at me for a moment, then turned away without another word. The Sword Demon nodded once and said,

“You’ve worked hard.”

I checked the expressions of the three men. It seemed they had been watching because they thought something had happened.

I had definitely started circulating qi and regulating breath after it had grown dark, but before I knew it, the sun seemed to be high in the sky, and everything around me was bright.

“How long did this session take?”

The Ghost Demon answered my question.

“About a day and a half. The time keeps getting longer.”

I nodded.

“Good. I nearly froze to death. Circulating qi should be done in moderation too. Don’t do it as ignorantly as I do.”

The Ghost Demon gave a faint laugh and replied,

“Go wash up now. Then are you finished with circulating qi for the time being?”

“I need to recover. I’ll wash and be back.”

Because of the damp feeling wrapped around my entire body, even I could not stand it. I was about to go wash behind the inn when I heard clattering from the kitchen, so I briefly checked inside.

Sambok was cooking, and he answered with a start.

“Sect Master, you’re awake? Ah, you weren’t sleeping, were you. I’m preparing lunch.”

“Confirmed.”

I went straight out the back door, stripped off my clothes, and headed for the well. When I stirred the water that had been drawn in advance, it could not have felt warmer.

* * *

After putting two tables together, the Sword Demon, the Lecherous Demon, the Ghost Demon, the Third Young Master, Sambok, and I sat around them and began moving our chopsticks. Looking at the meal Sambok had prepared, I thought this.

“If we didn’t have Sambok, we might all have starved to death.”

The Lecherous Demon said,

“Would we really have starved?”

I spoke in a tone full of certainty.

“We would have. Every single one of us would’ve stayed here because going out to buy food was too much trouble. Or we’d have died because we ate something I made and it tasted awful.”

The Ghost Demon laughed as he ate, then said,

“Are your cooking skills that much of a disaster?”

I answered while moving my chopsticks as well.

“In the past, I made noodles for a certain customer. He took one bite, then threw the bowl at me.”

The Ghost Demon asked with a dumbfounded expression,

“So what did you do?”

“What do you mean, what did I do? I gave him a flying kick, then grabbed him by the hair and fought him.”

“Hahahahahaha……”

When Sambok burst out laughing by himself, everyone stared blankly at him. Sambok said with an embarrassed expression,

“Why am I the only one laughing?”

“…….”

“I apologize.”

In truth, I had been holding back my laughter, and since I had already held it in, I kept holding it in.

“Let’s eat.”

“Yes.”

The Sword Demon, who had been eating with a solemn expression, asked as if curious,

“Who won?”

“There’s a bit of local jargon from my neighborhood that says both sides got scared. When you’re beating each other, the fight stops at an appropriate point. Thinking about it, it was a fight over one bowl of noodles. Throwing the bowl was that bastard’s fault, and making it taste bad was my fault, so you let it pass at a suitable point. No matter how blockheaded people are, a murder case doesn’t happen over noodles. It doesn’t go that far. To sum it up, shall we call it a draw? That was how it ended.”

The Sword Demon nodded.

“So there were fights that ended in draws.”

As I ate, I asked the Sword Demon,

“What do you think? It’s about time the lunatics coveting the Sword of Radiance started coming.”

The Sword Demon said,

“Retrieve the Sword of Radiance. That is probably the order on the surface. The true meaning must be to kill the former Left Envoy of Radiance.”

The Lecherous Demon frowned and asked,

“Is that so?”

The Sword Demon nodded.

“There will be those who know this is the Cult Leader’s trap. There will be those who come even knowing it. In the end, it is because humans seek to accomplish great deeds. Some bastards will want a one-on-one duel, but these people might gather and turn it into an all-out brawl from the start. There will also be bastards who show up at the very last moment, seize the Demon Sword, and try to leave. And there will likely be supporters from allied clans seeking to advance to the center of the cult and secure a position through this opportunity. Therefore, this is no different from the Cult Leader dumping the cleanup on me.”

Gwima asked as if curious.

“Why is this a cleanup?”

Geomma answered.

“The Left Guardian merely needs to be appointed by the Cult Leader.”

The Third Young Lord, who had been listening to the conversation, nodded his head.

“Indeed. After all, everything that occurs within the cult rests upon the Cult Leader’s whim. If one day he brings in some man he has never seen before and introduces him as the Left Guardian from that moment on, then that man is the Left Guardian. Who would dare contest such a decision?”

I listened up to this point and then asked Geomma,

“Is the Cult Leader bored?”

Perhaps thinking the question odd, Geomma stared at me steadily.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, is there no chance the Cult Leader will come to watch the fight he has arranged? Would the Third Young Lord know better?”

The Third Young Lord explained his father’s temperament thus:

“If people are likely to expect him, he will not come. If people are unlikely to expect him, perhaps he will. It is something I do not know, so I cannot predict it.”

I looked at Geomma.

“How does Senior expect it to be?”

Geomma answered.

“I do not think he will come.”

“Why?”

Geomma looked around at the Four Great Villains and the Third Young Lord and spoke.

“He likely does not yet have the inclination to kill you all. He is probably merely curious about the outcome. What is clear is that if the Cult Leader comes here, it would be best for all of you to stop acting rashly and scatter in every direction. He probably will not come, but take my words to heart.”

If Geomma advises one to flee, then fleeing is the right thing to do.

I answered simply.

“Understood.”

Just as we were finishing our meal, Geomma suddenly set down his chopsticks and spoke.

“We have guests outside.”

“Already?”

Like people who hate washing dishes, we rose simultaneously and went out, leaving Sambongi behind.

* * *

Three carriages arrived in the open lot slightly apart to the left of the Cheonli Inn, and as the people disembarked, they bowed their heads toward us, who were watching. One of the men in the group looked at me and spoke.

“Lord Haomunju, we have not come to fight. We will temporarily set up a field camp here.”

They took out various tools and wooden frames needed to pitch the camp from the wagons hitched behind the carriages, and the men set to work building a field camp.

Some erected poles in front of the camp, set up a sunshade canopy over them, placed a table and chairs beneath it, and even laid out the Four Friends of the Study.

I asked Geomma,

“Does the Demon Cult have an arbiter?”

“It does not.”

“Is there an expert who pathologically enjoys recording and observing?”

“Not that I know of.”

“They must be from an allied force, then.”

I left the Four Great Villains at the inn entrance and approached the men setting up the camp alone, my hands clasped behind my back.

“...Hard work.”

The men who had been setting up the camp stopped their movements simultaneously and cupped their hands in salute toward me.

“We greet Lord Haomunju.”

I flicked my hand with practiced dignity, brushing aside the crude courtesies of the Demonic Path forces.

“Acknowledged.”

Looking at the workers’ faces and skin tone, they were all dark, as if they had just come from farming under the blazing sun. Moreover, they had all trained their external arts rigorously, for the speed at which they pitched the camp was incredibly fast.

I spoke to a man in his thirties who looked capable.

“Where did you hear news of this fight and rush over like ghosts?”

The man answered.

“We merely received orders. We did not know we would be the first to arrive, Lord.”

“What force are you from?”

The man answered with his head bowed.

“Please forgive me for being unable to speak of it with my own mouth.”

“I see. Keep up the good work.”

“Yes.”

“May I take a look inside the camp?”

The man pointed at the camp, over which they were just now draping the cover across the poles, and said,

“Ah, please look as much as you like.”

I inspected the camp, checked for flags, emblems, or family crests. However, I scrutinized the shape of the carriages and the form of the swords at the workers’ waists closely, yet could find nothing at all. In other words, there was not a single piece of evidence that could reveal their identities.

But that was fine.

Like a nosy neighborhood youth, I looked around here and there and then watched the movements and expressions of the silently working laborers for a moment. Holding my breath, I distinguished even the sound of their breathing before speaking to the man who appeared to be the leader.

“...Is the White-Robed Scholar coming to watch?”

I saw the eyes of one man who had been working with his back bent widen slightly. I also confirmed that another man glanced at me out of the corner of his eye before hurriedly turning his gaze away. Not a single one answered my question.

To such a question...

If not a single one answers instantly, then the silence itself is the answer.

I asked the leader again,

“Are you coming to watch? Or are you coming to fight? Make it clear. It is not as if I can kill all of you here without reason, now can I?”

Only then did a middle-aged man who had been arranging the Four Friends of the Study on the table rise to his feet.

“Lord, of course we are not coming to fight. We received word from the cult, and upon inquiring into the matter, among the party of the former Gwangmyeong Left Guardian...”

One of the workers cut in with a low tone.

“Quiet.”

“Yes.”

The man answered, his back turned as he fastened the ropes of the camp around a stake-like object.

“We are merely coming to watch, so there is no need to kill us, Lord. If we speak too much, our tongues may be pulled out, so please show us mercy.”

I nodded.

“Understood. Your tongues are precious too. Life is only enjoyable with a tongue—you taste and speak with it. To have one’s tongue pulled out... Ugh, how dreadful.”

I cackled alone amidst the workers before deliberately continuing to loiter and peer around. Whenever I approached them to look, everyone was sweating from their foreheads, whether from the heat or from nerves, I could not tell.

From the start, I had known that Magunja hailed from the Demonic Path. Of course, I had never dreamed that he was from an allied force of the Demon Cult. Thinking about it, since the current overlord of the Demonic Path is the Demon Cult Leader, it was not so strange after all.

In any case, after looking around for quite a while, I returned to the Cheonli Inn and spoke to the Eldest Brother.

“Senior, it seems a spectator faction claiming neutrality has arrived.”

The Sword Demon nodded.

“Who is it?”

“It would be the White-Clad Scholar I mentioned before. Wow, goosebumps.”

I rubbed my forearm for a moment. As the Four Great Evildoers and the Third Young Master looked at me, I said,

“Come to think of it, the White-Clad Scholar also has a certain share in the Thousand-Li Inn. In any case, the last owner was the Butcher, and I took it from him. Surely he didn’t come here to take back the inn, did he?”

Even after saying that, I had the feeling my guess was somewhat off the mark. Apparently, that was not it.

The Lust Demon watched the men setting up tents and asked his master,

“Master, wouldn’t it be better to kill them all now?”

The Sword Demon shook his head.

“Leave them be. If he has experts of that level as laborers, then it must be true that they came to watch. There is no need to deliberately make them our enemies.”

“Yes.”

Each of us, feeling bewildered, watched the laborers setting up the tents while digesting the meal we had just eaten.

I said while picking my teeth,

“In any case, this world is full of crazy bastards. Good grief, lunatics. Tsk, tsk, tsk.”