As I sat eating meat, I realized I’d gotten a decent amount of sleep. That meant I could fight for three days and nights straight if necessary.

Since you never know what’s coming next in Jianghu—especially when outer sect rats are skulking around—it’s smart to be full and ready.

So I stuffed my face with meat alongside the Lecher and the Drunk.

Sambok, like some beggar from the Beggars’ Union, was wolfing down meat but still managed to set aside a few pieces in a bowl for the Third Young Master.

Just as the rare meat feast was winding down…

The Third Young Master emerged from the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) inn, looking gaunt and weary, and silently stared at the wrecked table, Sambok, and us.

“……”

I was sitting with the Drunk and the Lecher in front of the inn, picking at my teeth, saying nothing. Sambok hesitated, then spoke up.

“Are you alright, Young Master?”

The Third Young Master sighed and sat a little ways off before speaking to Sambok.

“Sambok… you brought me here on purpose, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to live. I apologize if I offended you. Have you finished expelling the poison?”

“The poison… It’s more that I was too rattled to think straight.”

“Yes.”

“I think you told me to shut up a few times. What were you thinking?”

I stopped picking my teeth and glared at him.

“Hey. Third Young Master.”

“……”

“Shut your damn mouth and eat some meat. Before I slam you to the ground and crack that dumb skull open, stop picking on your bodyguard. He carried your sorry ass on his back to save you, and you can’t handle being told to shut it? You need your jaw torn open to get it through your head? Want to go back inside and start meditating again?”

“……”

The mood, of course, turned heavy.

But I wasn’t the only one ready to tear into him.

The Drunk also stared at him and said in a flat tone,

“Third Young Master. Whatever the case, you needed time for energy cultivation. The three of us were guarding you by grilling meat out here.”

“Mmm.”

“If you bought yourself time and expelled the poison, then instead of scolding your loyal bodyguard, you should start by assessing the situation. Hard to believe you were ever competing against the other Great Lords with that kind of attitude.”

I nodded at the Drunk’s words.

“Well said.”

The Lecher didn’t scold the Young Master directly. Instead, he jabbed at Sambok.

“What did you see in this guy that made you carry him around like that? Honestly, you’re the crazy one. Just eat the meat you saved for him yourself.”

Sambok pressed his hands together and nervously glanced between us and the Young Master.

When the Third Young Master didn’t say a word, Sambok fetched the meat he had set aside earlier and, obliviously, offered it.

“Young Master, please have some meat. It’s good.”

Ah… peak cluelessness.

The three of us turned our heads away and stared off into the distance.

The Young Master took the bowl but set it down like he had no appetite. After all the scolding—getting chewed out by his subordinates and then by us—he probably couldn’t swallow a thing.

I was about to scold him again on instinct when the Drunk nudged my knee.

He probably meant for me to hold off, so I kept staring ahead.

“……”

A strange and suffocating silence hung in the air until the Third Young Master finally spoke.

“Pavilion Lord of Haomun, Young Lord Mong, Master Yukhap. Thanks to you, I had time to recover. Sambok.”

“Yes.”

“You saved my life. I would’ve died back at the safehouse. Come to think of it, those harsh words you threw at me were nothing. It’s fine.”

Sambok responded in a subdued tone.

“Ah, yes. It was thanks to the Pavilion Lord of Haomun allowing us inside the inn that we survived.”

The Lecher said to Sambok,

“Pour the Third Young Master a drink. I bet his chest feels too tight to get meat down.”

“Oh, of course. I understand.”

The Lecher added,

“Still, this whole fight between the Great Lords is brutal. One side hires the Butcher and his elder brother, the other brings in experts from the Heavenly Alliance… What’s the Cult Leader thinking, letting his sons tear each other apart like this? Wouldn’t it be easier to just settle everything in a single duel? What do you think, bumpkin?”

I replied without much thought.

“Maybe he got the position himself by beating the hell out of everyone too. Just passing it down the same way?”

The Drunk answered,

“As I recall, when the current Cult Leader fought for succession, the Cult was in complete chaos. The whole organization fractured and fought amongst itself. Now it’s different—only the Great Lords are fighting, under the Cult Leader’s control, so the Cult itself isn’t taking much damage. He’s probably using this to suppress the maternal clans too. But in the end, even if one side wins, they’ll still have to obey the Cult Leader’s commands. It’s a pretty hollow victory.”

“Why’s that?”

“The Cult Leader isn’t stepping down. In terms of age and martial prowess, he’s just hitting his peak. Sure, he earned the title of the Three Calamities long ago, but he’s even stronger now.”

In the orthodox path, people usually say martial artists peak in their forties or fifties—when decades of internal cultivation bear fruit. But exceptions exist. Some prodigies peak in their twenties. Others become the best in the world after sixty.

Either way, the Cult Leader is seen as hitting his prime now.

If my guess is right, his presence alone has probably raised the overall standard of the demonic path. Not knowing when the next war between good and evil will erupt, people like Lim Sobaek are surely training hard.

Finally, the Third Young Master drank a cup of wine.

He probably didn’t have anywhere to go. Sambok, exhausted from running everywhere, sat next to him, staring blankly out at the inn’s front yard.

I looked around at the four of us with nothing to do and chuckled.

“…What a bunch of pathetic bastards. All gathered here like this—it’s almost impressive.”

The Drunk replied,

“Not too bad.”

As I gazed at the ordinary scene, I said to them,

“This is the view from the inn. Enjoy it. If you can’t enjoy the moment, you’ll never enjoy anything. We can’t enjoy things forever, so let’s at least enjoy the moment.”

The Lecher nodded.

“Listen to this crap. You sound like a goddamn philosopher. Did you find enlightenment?”

I shook my head.

“No, that’s our eldest brother. The three of us are a long way off.”

The Drunk asked curiously,

“Pavilion Lord, you think Sword Demon reached enlightenment?”

“Of course. He’s beyond us.”

“In what way?”

I turned to look. All eyes were on me—Drunk, Lecher, Third Young Master, and Sambok.

I explained Sword Demon’s level.

“Once the Left Guardian of the Demonic Cult. The only one who took orders directly from the Cult Leader. That’s like being the Prime Minister of a nation.”

Sambok chimed in.

“That’s right.”

“There was a Right Guardian too, sure—but they were equals. The Chief Commander was more like an honorary retired position. How many men in Jianghu would give up the second-highest position in the strongest faction just like that? Means he doesn’t care about power. The Bright Sword he owns is one of the Cult’s Four Great Swords. Yet he puts it aside and trains daily with a wooden one. That means he rejects gaining strength through improper means. Not easy for someone from the demonic path.”

Everyone fell quiet and listened.

“But beyond that—what kind of man is Sword Demon? The Cult Leader, the cult's teachings, even the demon sword couldn’t hold him back. He pursues his own path, one he carved out himself. And he doesn’t mingle with the mess of the outer sect, either. That makes him a Grandmaster in his own right. Even if he loses to the Cult Leader, even if all he’s got left is one disobedient disciple, Sword Demon is still Sword Demon.”

I stared ahead.

“It’s not easy to live your life while sticking to your beliefs without harming others. But even as the Great Lords and the outer sect fight each other, none of them dare to touch Sword Demon. That’s how a real man lives. Just following orders and kissing ass doesn’t make you demonic. Bowing your head to dogma and the Cult Leader isn’t the true path.”

I gave the Third Young Master a sideways glare as I said,

“If you’ve lived this long, at least learn the difference between a slave and a man of the demonic path. Cut the pathetic act. Even if you have a bunch of assassins kill your brothers, you’ll never inherit the cult. You think your father’s going to hand it all over to a clown like you?”

The Third Young Master said nothing, and Sambok cautiously asked,

“Then… who would he give it to?”

“He won’t give it to anyone, idiot.”

“Why not?”

I smirked.

“I’m not the Cult’s damn spokesperson, but here’s what I think. He’ll pass it on to whoever kills him—or at least, to someone capable of killing him. That’s how the demonic path works, right? Why are you all fighting like a bunch of idiots? None of you are even that strong. You’re being carried around by a bodyguard weaker than your enemies, and you want to be Vice Cult Leader? Get your head on straight. Now shut up and eat the meat Sambok grilled. You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

As I chuckled, the Lecher and Drunk both wore sheepish expressions.

The Third Young Master glared at me, then reached for the bowl and started eating with his hands.

For a while, he silently shoved meat into his mouth with his fingers, then drank a shot of wine with greasy hands.

The Lecher asked curiously,

“Hey, Third.”

“What?”

“Why are you so good at tormenting people? Where’d you learn to be this nasty? Was your old master some weirdo on a cliff who didn’t teach you martial arts but taught you how to talk people into coughing blood?”

I pointed at him.

“You’re worse. All you had to do was keep quiet, but no, you had to follow up and drive the nail in. What do you think, Second?”

The Drunk nodded emphatically.

“Agreed. If I were the Third Young Master, I’d choke on my food listening to the two of you.”

“……!”

Suddenly, we heard a hiccup. Turning around, we saw Sambok patting the Third Young Master’s back.

“Careful, Young Master. Chew slowly. Use chopsticks.”

The Third Young Master, face red as a beet, hastily drank wine.

Even I sometimes don’t understand myself. Why am I such a bastard? I don’t really care though—no point trying to make sense of the world.

I was mid-rant, roasting the Third Young Master, when I noticed the atmosphere around Cheolli Inn had shifted.

The outer sect scum had arrived.

Looked like their boss showed up too—someone capable of shutting their mouths. The newly arrived martial artists formed an orderly front, far more disciplined than before.

Meanwhile, the Third Young Master, still eating meat with his hands, looked up at the swarm of people coming to kill him.

Even to me, they seemed quite numerous.

They established a wide perimeter, then parted to reveal a tall man in black robes stepping forward. He looked around and asked,

“Explain who’s who.”

One of the underlings replied immediately.

“From the right: Pavilion Lord of Haomun, Master Yukhap, Mongrang of the Wind-and-Cloud Mong Family, the Third Young Master, and lastly, the Young Master’s bodyguard.”

The man in black scoffed.

“What kind of lineup is this mess?”

I answered him.

“You’re telling me.”

He looked at me and said,

“Pavilion Lord of Haomun. I’m Won Gaseong of the Heavenly Alliance.”

I nodded.

“You look like a monkey. What do you want?”

He glared briefly, then sighed.

“…We’re transferring the Third Young Master to someone else. You have no reason to protect him, so hand him over. We’re not going to kill him—we’ll deliver him alive to the client. Getting involved in cult affairs will do you no good. And interfering in the Heavenly Alliance’s operations isn’t wise either. You’re one of the Six Dragons now, gaining fame—surely you can make the right decision?”

The Third Young Master stopped chewing and asked,

“Is this under the First Lord’s orders? Or the second brother’s?”

Won Gaseong glared and replied,

“You shut up. I’m speaking to the Pavilion Lord.”

He turned back to me.

“If not for this, the Heavenly Alliance would’ve invited you to join us first. Word is you’ve got a solid black path network under your command. I think you’re a better fit for us than for Lord Lim.”

Wow… a recruitment pitch now?

Not the time.

I looked at the Third Young Master.

“You done eating?”

He patted his chest.

“Just a moment.”

I sighed and said to Won Gaseong,

“Look, pal. You keep pushing like this… Ah, that’s not quite it. Anyway, not many people in Jianghu can order me around. Not that none exist.”

Won Gaseong said,

“Just get to the point.”

I glared at him.

“You’re not one of them. And if you’re from the Heavenly Alliance, you should’ve done your homework. Haven’t you heard how I wiped out the Namgak Gang?”

Won Gaseong looked to his men, then replied,

“…I heard Lim Sobaek did all that. Wasn’t it him?”

“That’s right.”

“Then what are you?”

I sighed.

Looks like I haven’t made enough of a damn impression in Jianghu yet.

Guess that’s on me.