Whether Magunja eventually becomes the Evil Emperor or not, I have no way of confirming just yet—but if he’s anything, he’s a lunatic fit to be called the Mad Emperor, not just some Evil One.

That’s what I thought as I watched the people hammering away at the construction of barracks. There are just too many crazy people around here—it’s to the point where the word “madness” is losing all meaning.

In a world where everyone’s mad, being mad doesn’t mean much.

In that case, acting like the only sane person among lunatics might be the most insane thing of all.

I imagined the White-Clad Scholar for a moment, from the perspective of a normal person.

What on earth is he thinking, watching the fight over the Bright Sword so brazenly?

After some thought, I came to this conclusion.

Maybe he’s just watching the fight because it’s entertaining, just like we used to enjoy watching brawls when we were kids.

If that’s the case, then the White-Clad Scholar’s behavior is a pure, untainted form of madness. A madness befitting the title “White-Clad Scholar.”

However, more surprising than watching those setting up the barracks were the men approaching us with startled expressions—causing even the Four Great Villains to fall silent for a moment.

“What kind of entrance is this now?”

Members of the Martial Alliance had arrived.

I easily recognized Dan Hyuksan and Yun Jihak among them, both from the Seven Swords Division whom I had seen before.

For now, I welcomed them.

“Warrior Dan, Warrior Yun. Welcome.”

The Alliance members scanned the Four Great Villains with cautious expressions before bowing to me with clasped fists.

“Lord of the Gate, we meet again.”

“How did you manage to find your way here?”

Dan Hyuksan spoke.

“We received word from the Alliance. We were concerned for you and decided to come.”

“What kind of word?”

Dan Hyuksan glanced around the area surrounding Cheonri Inn before responding.

“There was a sort of voluntary report claiming that an internal conflict among the demonic factions would take place here. According to the letter, it was a clash between members of the demonic cult themselves, and they stated that there would be no harm to locals or to Baek Eung-ji. If any demonic faction members did intend to cause harm, the letter said they would be dealt with beforehand. It was both a report and a request—urging the Martial Alliance not to interfere.”

I replied with a puzzled expression.

“So you’re telling me they reported in advance that a fight would happen here?”

Yun Jihak, looking just as confused, answered.

“Yes. That’s what it seems like. The letter also mentioned they had an ally on our side who would look into things directly, so there was no need to worry.”

“An ally?”

Dan Hyuksan looked at me intently.

“That ally is, of course, you, Lord Yi. The letter mentioned the name Yi Zaha, which caused a bit of confusion at first, but we verified with others in the area that it’s your name.”

I nodded.

“I see. And who is this faction that considers me their ally?”

Dan Hyuksan studied my expression before answering.

“They called themselves the Samrak Seowok. Do you know them?”

I shook my head.

“Samrak Seowok? So I have an ally I don’t even know about. How heartwarming.”

I glanced at the Four Great Villains and found them uncharacteristically silent as well.

“Is this a group known to the Martial Alliance?”

Dan Hyuksan shook his head.

“We’re unfamiliar with them as well. Likely being investigated as we speak.”

I looked toward the ones setting up the barracks.

“If I don’t know them and neither does the Martial Alliance, then the most likely candidates are those people over there.”

I pointed at the men building the barracks.

Everyone, both the Four Great Villains and the Alliance members, turned to look. The construction crew was already packing up their tools into wagons after completing the barracks in no time at all.

Normally, the term “Seowok” refers to a scholarly study or reading hall, but “Seowok” as a prison is a term that doesn’t really exist.

If I force an interpretation, it means a prison where you read books.

As for “Samrak,” that one’s easier. It comes from the classic concept of “The Three Joys of a Gentleman.”

Having both parents alive.

Having siblings who are safe and well.

And having the ability to teach the worthy talents of the world.

These are the three joys of a noble man.

Of course, since we’re talking about a “Demonic Scholar,” you’d expect that the “joys” would be far from ordinary. Instead of teaching promising talents, he’d probably abduct scoundrels and teach them through torture and correction.

Like a butcher whose mind has rotted.

As I was lost in thought, Yun Jihak asked me,

“Lord Yi, shall we go over and ask them directly?”

I shook my head.

“No need. If they talk too much, it seems their master will rip their tongues out.”

Just then, one of the men from the barracks approached and reported to me.

“Lord Yi, we’ve completed the barracks. We’ll leave now, except for one man who’ll stay behind. Thank you for overlooking our presence. We wish you good fortune.”

He bowed deeply.

I nodded.

“You all worked hard, building under this blazing sun.”

“Thank you for your kind words.”

He turned and rejoined his team, and the wagons began to depart. Judging by their faces, these men didn’t seem like they’d lived normal lives. Yet they all showed courtesy, so it was likely they too lived as slaves under the White-Clad Scholar.

I turned to Dan Hyuksan.

“Warrior Dan.”

“Yes.”

“It just turned out that I’ll be fighting here. I’ll make sure the surroundings aren’t affected, so there’s no need for concern. As the letter said, it’s a battle between devils. The more that die, the better. I’m sure those people will keep things under control outside as well. Don’t get involved. They seem insane.”

There wasn’t anything for the Martial Alliance to do here. Understanding this, Dan Hyuksan said,

“Lord Yi.”

“Speak.”

“I’m not sure if I should say this, but our Lord often mentions you fondly, like a younger brother. We may not know what this battle is about, but we still wish you victory.”

At the mention of “younger brother,” I responded with a blank expression.

“Give my regards to our noble Alliance Leader brother.”

“Yes.”

As the Alliance members withdrew, Dan Hyuksan came close and whispered.

“Lord Yi, is there anything we can do to help? This is an unofficial question. We weren’t sent by the Alliance—we came on our own, ready to join you.”

I thought for a moment, then patted Dan Hyuksan on the shoulder.

“Hm, Warrior Dan. I appreciate it, but I’ll handle this from within.”

“Understood.”

Dan Hyuksan stepped back and looked at the Four Great Villains.

“Everyone, until next time.”

I waved to the retreating Alliance members.

“Good seeing you. Stay safe.”

“Yes, Lord Yi.”

Before the fighting had even begun, I already felt exhausted.

Just what kind of mind does it take to report to the Martial Alliance in advance and make them agree not to interfere?

We sat in the chairs outside Cheonri Inn without saying a word. From time to time, you could hear snorts of laughter at the absurdity of the situation.

Bored, I deliberately walked over to the barracks. The young man guarding it looked at me nervously.

“Lord Yi, welcome.”

I nodded and gestured at the table with my chin.

“Mind if I sit?”

“Of course not.”

I took the seat and waved my hand toward Cheonri Inn.

Geomma, the Drunk, and the Lecher just stared blankly in my direction, giving no reaction.

Annoyed, I waved more dramatically, but the Four Great Villains didn’t budge.

“Tsk…”

“Yes?”

“Bunch of cold-hearted bastards. Never respond to anything. If they don’t feel like it, they just don’t.”

I glanced at the inkstone, brush, and paper on the table, then looked back at the devils of the Evil Society seated outside Cheonri Inn.

Watching them like this…

I realized I’m not the only one here to spectate.

We’ll get to see Geomma fight—a rare sight. And if a real threat appears, he might even draw the Bright Sword. I don’t know if they know about the Lecher, but it’s practically guaranteed they’ll witness the Ice Technique of the Jade Flower Palace. Plus, they’ll get to gauge my skills and Master Yukhap’s too. If I were the White-Clad Scholar, I’d come here as well.

“Confirmed. So this is the feeling.”

I turned to the man standing guard.

“Your master draws, doesn’t he? This paper isn’t sized for books—it’s for drawing.”

He replied briefly.

“Yes.”

“Is he the type to demand yes-or-no answers only?”

“No, he’s not.”

“Then give me a full answer.”

“He told us to show proper respect to you, so I’m answering carefully.”

To know the enemy and oneself is to increase the odds of victory. And to train a subordinate is to get a glimpse of the superior’s nature.

I asked the man,

“What’s your name?”

“Chilgeom.”

“Seventh Sickle?”

“Yes.”

“Let me see your sickle.”

Chilgeom drew a sickle from his waist and showed me. It was a familiar type—I nodded.

“Sam Bok, Yukhap, now Chilgeom… Feels like fate, doesn’t it? Though I’m not sure what kind.”

“I don’t quite follow.”

“It’s fine. I often don’t either.”

“Yes.”

I glanced at the paper and brushes again and asked,

“When’s the artist coming?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh? So you admit your master’s an artist?”

Chilgeom’s face turned pale and he clammed up. I enjoyed watching his expression before turning to the road.

A wagon was approaching.

I asked Chilgeom,

“…Is it the Scholar?”

“No.”

“Then it must be a Left Guardian candidate here to die.”

The wagon slowed as it passed the barracks. The driver didn’t even glance at me, but the sunshade lifted, and a middle-aged man glared at me. Pale-faced like he had stomach problems, his eyes were sinister. He looked like a ghost. Creepy—but I wasn’t about to lose a staring contest.

“…”

The ghost-faced bastard smirked, lowered the shade, and passed on. I didn’t expect to know who he was, but I asked Chilgeom anyway.

“Who’s that bastard? He looks irritating.”

Chilgeom replied,

“He’s the head of the Ghost Spirit Demon House, affiliated with the external branch of the Cult.”

I nodded, taking on a solemn tone.

“I see. Is he skilled enough to contend for the Left Guardian position?”

Chilgeom answered,

“He’s one of the top masters in the ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) external branch—qualified to be here.”

“By ‘external,’ do you mean an allied force that operates outside the Cult?”

Chilgeom shook his head.

“If you belong to the external branch, you follow orders from the Cult. Allied forces don’t take orders—they’re just asked to cooperate.”

“Like you?”

“Yes.”

I clapped in admiration.

“Wow, you’re quite the scholar for someone your age. As expected from the Scholar’s disciple. Excellent.”

“Thank you.”

The ghost-faced head of the Ghost Spirit Demon House got off the wagon and stood in front of Cheonri Inn, alone. That alone takes guts.

He stared at Geomma. It left quite an impression. I, feeling possessed by the White-Clad Scholar for a moment, spread out a blank sheet and picked up a brush.

“Grind some ink.”

“Yes.”

As Chilgeom ground the ink beside me, I steadied my breath, holding the brush.

Then it hit me.

“Damn… I’m doing exactly what the Scholar would do.”

I asked Chilgeom,

“Hey, Chilgeom.”

“Yes, Lord Yi.”

“Did the White-Clad Scholar predict I’d sit here and start drawing?”

Chilgeom stifled a smile and replied,

“Yes, he predicted it. I believe he’ll be pleased.”

“Because he anticipated my actions? Or because I’m drawing?”

Chilgeom replied,

“He said you had a pure side, Lord Yi. That if you saw the Four Treasures of the Study laid out, you’d either start writing or sketch the view of Cheonri Inn.”

I responded in admiration.

“The Scholar really is above me. Impressive.”

At that moment, I looked up at the roof of the barracks. Something passed overhead and landed quietly—it was a black-clad figure, descending with the grace of a master assassin.

He didn’t even glance at the barracks and walked straight toward Cheonri Inn.

I couldn’t help but ask Chilgeom,

“Who’s that assassin-looking guy?”

Chilgeom shook his head.

“I don’t know either.”

I put down the brush and stood up, heading for Cheonri Inn.

“Sam Bok.”

From inside, Sam Bok burst out with a crash.

“Yes!”

I gestured at the head of the Ghost Spirit Demon House with my chin.

“Take the guest.”

Sam Bok wiped his wet hands on his apron and approached the ghostly man.

“Would you like to order?”

The ghost-faced master glared at him.

“No need.”

“Yes.”

Sam Bok then turned to the unidentified black-clad man.

“Would you like to order?”

“No need.”

“Yes.”

Then the ghostly master addressed Geomma.

“Left Guardian, introduce us, will you? Spent your whole life alone—has your heart softened? You’re keeping odd company these days.”

Geomma replied calmly,

“They’re disciples and brothers I met in Jianghu.”

As contenders for the Left Guardian position gathered, I watched Geomma’s expression alongside the Drunk and the Lecher.

Strangely, when the word “brothers” left his lips…

Geomma felt like a warmer man than before.

Bored, I added to the conversation myself.

“I’m the third, Yi Zaha. Don’t plant your stinky ass in someone else’s inn—place your order. We only accept silver here. No money? Then get lost. Go sit on the rocky dirt over there before I smash your skull.”

The ghost-faced master and the black-clad man both glared at me.

“…”

Yeah, I’d definitely soured the mood a bit.