Chapter 333. Whose Life Shall I Ruin?

The White-Robed Scholar looked up at the sky pouring down rain.

His entire body was already soaked through.

As he took the unusually heavy sheets of rain full in the face and examined the shape of the sky and clouds, he saw that this was not rain that would stop easily.

When he checked on hell again…….

The Hao Sect Leader was dancing in a frenzy with his sword in hand.

Was that qi deviation, or was it madness?

Watching him like this, it also looked like a struggle to overcome his madness. It also looked like a desperate attempt to somehow live joyfully. Whatever the reason, the Scholar thought he was no ordinary madman.

“The greatest lunatic of all time.”

He was also a living subject of research. Even the strength of his martial arts changed according to his mental state. Though he had watched it with his own eyes, the Scholar still could not understand how he had slaughtered the Four Heavenly Kings. Toward the end, he had swung his sword while almost entirely engulfed in violet mist, making it seem like a martial art impossible to analyze. Not even the path of the sword could be seen.

‘Zaha Divine Art…….’

The White-Robed Scholar slowly strolled across rooftops and roofs as he watched the Hao Sect Leader dance and battle phantoms.

‘It would be a shame if he died…….’

The White-Robed Scholar stretched his right hand to the side, gripped his long robe with his left, and performed an elegant dance in the rain. It was a restrained dance in which he advanced one step, turned, and kicked away the rainwater pooled at his feet. If the Hao Sect Leader’s dance was a lower-class wild flailing mixed with utter madness, the White-Robed Scholar’s movements were a dance with etiquette and rules.

In a word, it was a learned dance.

Since there was no music, he drew notes from the sound of rain, screams, weapons clashing, shouts, and the splashing of feet. That was enough to become music one could dance to.

The Hao Sect Leader danced as if rampaging through hell.

The White-Robed Scholar danced leisurely as he wandered over the rooftops.

For now, he had no mind to help the Sect Leader, so he merely danced. If he grew bored, he intended to help then.

The White-Robed Scholar took out a white folding fan and spun his body as he performed a fan dance, moving while flicking away the pooled rainwater. Whenever he heard a long scream during the dance, he nodded once.

“……Farewell. Give my regards to Master.”

In the midst of it all, the sky flashed and lightning struck.

He climbed onto a railing and walked precariously along it, then stopped for a moment and watched hell.

He watched the Sword Demon fight like a fierce general, then his gaze was briefly stolen by Mongrang, who scattered snow-white cold energy wherever he went. Then he watched Master Yukhap, who looked dangerously close to death, wondering if he might die soon, but his defense was so exceptionally firm that he endured somehow. Whenever it was truly dangerous, Mongrang or the Sword Demon would mysteriously appear and support Master Yukhap.

In other words, they had been watching over one another.

The Hao Sect Leader, while fighting the phantoms a little distance away, slowly joined the place where the three were, and even watching him like this, the Scholar could not predict his attacks.

One moment he was fighting the opponent before him, then he leaped up to help Master Yukhap; at times he passed by the Sword Demon in a blur as he swung his sword, and when he saw someone covered in Mongrang’s palm force, he approached like an assassin and cut off their breath.

In any case, he fought efficiently and well.

Originally, the three had been battered by the phantoms, but once the Hao Sect Leader joined them, the situation flowed into a formation where they could breathe a little.

Even so, this hellscape did not seem likely to end easily, just like the pouring rain.

It was because all the phantoms were rare experts.

Moreover, in various places, the White-Robed Scholar could see phantoms who were fighting halfheartedly while conserving their strength, or had stepped back to watch.

They were waiting for their fellow phantoms to die and for the Sect Leader’s party to grow exhausted, and when they occasionally discovered someone retreating, they did not hesitate to kill their own comrades.

The White-Robed Scholar stared blankly at the scene of the hellscape as if grasping the state of a go board. The only mental states he could read from that situation were slaughter, murderous intent, cruelty, and heartlessness. Only the Sect Leader’s group, at least, was enduring while looking after one another.

‘Strangely enough, they’re holding out well.’

Suddenly, the Hao Sect Leader let out a long laugh tinged with madness. Then Mongrang laughed along, and Master Yukhap also joined in the laughter, though who knew what he found so pleasing. When the Scholar looked at the Sword Demon, even this blunt man was laughing.

What sort of mindset was this?

It was laughter difficult to understand, so the White-Robed Scholar thought about it for a while as he was struck by the rain.

‘Why are they laughing? Is it fun?’

It did not look like a particularly enjoyable situation, yet they were laughing, so he felt somewhat stifled inside. Then he reached this conclusion.

‘I’ll have to ask later. Why they laughed.’

To ask, he first had to keep them alive, so for now he had no choice but to help.

The White-Robed Scholar folded his fan, then pressed the lower part of the handle firmly with his finger. With a pak— sound, a steel needle jutted sharply from the tip of the fan. Holding it, he moved across the rooftop, then leaped down between buildings.

He entered the second floor of an unnamed inn, walked while dodging the corpses strewn here and there, took a chopstick holder from a table, and then stood by the window.

The fight he had been looking down on from above…….

Was now unfolding at a place level with his eyes.

“…….”

Now the phantoms and the Sect Leader’s group had gathered in a relatively wide open space and were clashing. The Sect Leader’s group, too, was now fighting as if they had become phantoms. Moreover, it was a day with mist as well, so visibility was poor.

‘They’re no ordinary evil spirits.’

The White-Robed Scholar looked at a phantom nearby who was driving Master Yukhap hard, then placed his folding fan on his palm, pulled out one chopstick, and laid it on top of the fan.

“…….”

He could see the movements and habits of the phantom pressuring Master Yukhap, as well as the characteristics of his footwork. The moment he predicted where the phantom would step, he struck the end of the chopstick with the One-Point Finger Flicking Art.

Tang!

As soon as the phantom planted his left foot on the ground to attack Master Yukhap, the flying chopstick pierced his ankle.

In that instant, Master Yukhap sent the phantom’s head flying.

Puak!

The White-Robed Scholar once again placed a chopstick on top of the fan and pondered whose life he should ruin. Just then, there was a phantom looking this way, so without even thinking it over, he sent the chopstick flying.

Swiiiiish!

As soon as the phantom turned his head, he swung his hand, but the flying chopstick pierced through his palm and embedded itself in his forehead.

Thuk!

The White-Robed Scholar muttered.

“A remarkable expert indeed.”

But that remarkable expert was cut by the passing Hao Sect Leader’s sword, and his head soon fell. He had only launched two surprise attacks, yet some of the phantoms were already looking around for him.

He had no choice but to change locations.

After moving a little to the side, he looked into the rain. Out of nowhere, the Hao Sect Leader’s voice came from somewhere.

“……There’s someone launching sneak attacks. Be careful.”

Mongrang answered.

“A phantom?”

The Hao Sect Leader answered while swinging his sword.

“No, it’s the White-Robed Scholar. He’s killing the phantoms. Over there, by the inn window. Helper of the Four Great Villains, White-Robed Martial Emperor of the Orthodox Path, comrade of the Hao Sect, sworn enemy of the Demonic Cult, junior to the Sword God. The brain of scholars—ah, and he can’t live under the same sky as the Demonic Cult.”

Mongrang answered.

“You mean the Martial Emperor is helping us? That’s reassuring.”

The White-Robed Scholar, who had been watching, let out a sigh.

“That…… that…….”

The moment something came flying in and shattered the window, the White-Clad Scholar stepped back. He had meant to watch from the sidelines and amuse himself by casually throwing hidden weapons, but before he knew it, a specter had appeared and was swinging a sword with all its teeth knocked out.

The White-Clad Scholar blocked the blade with his fan, then slashed the specter’s face with the part where the steel needles protruded. The instant a red line was drawn across its face, the specter opened its mouth and spat something out.

Acting on instinct, the White-Clad Scholar opened his fan to block it, held his breath, then extended three fingers toward the specter as it charged in. With a thud, the specter’s upper body scattered apart, but poisonous mist was spreading, so he left the inn and shot back up to the roof.

He stepped once against the wall and was about to leap again when the wall above was pierced through, and a pitch-black hand suddenly thrust out. The White-Clad Scholar kicked off the wall, shifted to the opposite side, and unleashed a burst of palm force.

As the wall collapsed, a bizarre figure with disheveled hair abruptly appeared and charged at him, swinging its hands like a wild beast. The White-Clad Scholar caught the wall and soared into the air. He intended to kill it if it followed him up, but the specter merely raised its head and glared, then spoke in an unexpectedly normal voice.

“You’re the Black Fan’s disciple. Your methods are similar.”

“Old man, how do you know my master?”

“It has been a long time since I shut myself away to train because of that bastard.”

The White-Clad Scholar looked down and smiled.

“What a pity. He died by my hand.”

The specter laughed as well.

“You alone? Impossible.”

Only then did the White-Clad Scholar wipe the smile from his face.

“Come up.”

The White-Clad Scholar withdrew and waited for the specter. In no time, the specter had leaped lightly onto the roof and was looking at the White-Clad Scholar as the rain struck it.

“I heard his disciples swarmed him and killed him. You must have been one of them.”

Only then did the White-Clad Scholar open his eyes wide and look the specter before him up and down.

“You… you’re the Scholar. You treacherous bastard.”

The specter answered.

“…While I was deployed to the Cult, my entire clan was slaughtered by your master. How, then, am I the traitor? Do you not know what sort of people the Cult takes in?”

The White-Clad Scholar swept his gaze over the surroundings once, then glared at the specter.

“Who are you blaming? This is the kind of world it has always been.”

The White-Clad Scholar examined his fan from side to side. It was one of his cherished weapons, but poison had smeared onto it, so it seemed he could no longer use it. Even as the specter suddenly closed the distance and rushed in, the White-Clad Scholar stood there motionless, staring only at the folding fan in his hand. Then he infused inner power into his fingers and pressed the handle. The moment a faint sound rang out, like a small piece of metal snapping, a steel needle shot out from the end of the fan.

Thuk!

The steel needle lodged itself in the forehead of the specter, which had come close and was swinging its hand.

The instant the specter’s head snapped back, the White-Clad Scholar thrust out his palm. As palm force erupted, the specter’s entire body shattered into pieces and was swept away by the wind and rain.

After standing still for a moment, the White-Clad Scholar tilted his head.

“Is there a traitor? How would a specter know this?”

The White-Clad Scholar went back to the railing and watched the fight. Ever since the Hao Sect Master had joined in, the number of specters had clearly dwindled.

At that moment, he saw a black-clad man watching the battle between the specters and the Four Great Villains.

As he watched for a while…

The black-clad man moved his head and fixed his gaze on the White-Clad Scholar atop the roof. The White-Clad Scholar sat on the railing, watching the fight while also looking at the black-clad man. Suddenly, new experts appeared from somewhere, and the specters were being slammed into the ground or torn apart while held in place.

As he looked closely to see who they were, he recognized the Fist King and his disciple, Yi Gunak. On the opposite side, a standing specter was split into two and sprayed blood everywhere; over there, the Blade King had appeared.

“……”

For a moment, the White-Clad Scholar swept his gaze broadly across the battlefield and searched for Im Sobaek, but he did not see any other King. He had no idea how the news had reached them and brought them here, but the Four Great Villains were fortunate. Only three men had joined them as reinforcements, but perhaps because they were Kings who had been conserving their strength, they were performing as if three generals had been added to the battlefield.

All of a sudden, the White-Clad Scholar fixed his eyes on a man he did not recognize.

The man did not look particularly skilled, yet he was throwing punches and beating up only the specters that had already been gravely wounded.

‘What is that fellow doing?’

Of course, the White-Clad Scholar could not recognize Cha Seongtae. From time to time, a crackling sound rang out from his hands, and no matter how he looked at it, that was the lightning qi of the Hundred Battles Ten Stages Art that the White-Clad Scholar had handed to the Hao Sect Master.

“……”

It was certainly a martial art the Sect Master had either learned himself or passed on to that stubborn mule. Watching a man who had learned a divine art counted among the finest in the jianghu beat up only gravely wounded specters, the White-Clad Scholar could not help but sigh.

‘So he’s from the Hao Sect.’

He seemed like someone not worth watching, so the White-Clad Scholar stopped paying him any attention. Then, when he moved his head slightly, he belatedly realized that the black-clad man had disappeared.

He had been watching the fight all this time, and now he was gone.

The White-Clad Scholar was looking over the battlefield, whose tide had shifted, without thinking much of it when he flinched in spite of himself.

“……!”

An unfamiliar voice came from behind him.

“Did Cheonak not come?”

When the White-Clad Scholar slowly tried to turn his head, the owner of the voice warned him.

“Your gaze is unpleasant, so do not look at me. Just answer.”

“He did not come.”

After maintaining silence for a moment, the White-Clad Scholar moved his eyes, then unleashed palm force the instant he turned around. The palm force, filled with all his strength, struck the empty air, and the downpour was swept up like a waterspout and sent flying far away.

But the owner of the voice had already disappeared.

Only then did the White-Clad Scholar let out a long breath. Though the rain had been pouring heavily, someone had still managed to get behind him, so a chill could not help but run down his spine. He could not tell whether the man was an expert among the specters or the one who, like the Grand Duke, had been controlling them.

Judging by his skill, one person did come to mind, but the White-Clad Scholar shook his head.