‘What the hell goes through that bastard’s head?’

I stopped speaking mid-conversation and stared quietly at the White-Robed Scholar, who was fully focused on his painting.

Suddenly, I felt goosebumps crawl up my forearm.

It was because I found myself wanting to capture him, torture him, beat him, and threaten him just to hear what thoughts were buried deep in his mind. The reason this impulse gave me chills was simple—because the kind of man who would actually do that… was the White-Robed Scholar himself.

‘Curiosity about other people can be terrifying.’

Why is it that I can understand the minds of normal people doing their jobs, and at the same time, grasp the thoughts of lunatics like him?

I have no idea.

After finishing his painting, the White-Robed Scholar handed it over to Chilgyeom, then finally pointed at me with his brush.

“Master of Haomun, wasn’t Tai Chi originally a martial art created just to mock the Cult? It seems like you’ve reached some enlightenment about the combination of yin and yang. If so, ‘Yin Yang Divine Art’ or perhaps ‘Sun and Moon Divine Art’ would be a more fitting name. Just something to keep in mind. And since I’m curious, I’ll ask the Master and any friends from Jianghu…”

Still holding the brush high, he asked,

“Would anyone care to have a lightness skill duel with me?”

“……”

We were all speechless. A lightness skill duel? Right now?

The White-Robed Scholar tilted his head and continued.

“Not now is fine. You’re all probably exhausted—maybe next time. Sword Demon, not interested?”

The Sword Demon didn’t even respond.

With a sigh that sounded like he’d lost interest, the White-Robed Scholar stood up.

“Seems no one here cares about lightness skill.”

He got up with that bored expression, grabbed a nearby table, and casually flung it down the hill. Strangely, the table disintegrated into dust before even hitting the ground—vanishing without a trace.

I opened my eyes wide.

‘What martial technique is that?’

I was still staring at the fading dust when I hurriedly turned my gaze back to the top of the hill.

The White-Robed Scholar and Chilgyeom were already gone without a trace.

“Hm.”

Now that I think about it, even in the Swift Party, which was filled with people obsessed with lightness skill, he was one of the fastest.

It was absurd that someone like him still cared about dueling in this situation. And yet, knowing what kind of person he was, it somehow made sense. I stood in place, imagining what might be going on in his head.

‘Maybe…’

I allowed myself a ridiculous thought.

If I wanted to completely defeat or mentally break the White-Robed Scholar, maybe I didn’t need to overpower him with martial arts. Maybe I first needed to defeat him in lightness skill. The type of man who holds infinite pride in something would feel immense shame and despair if he lost in that very field. The White-Robed Scholar was crazy in his own specific way—it left even me bewildered.

Curious what the others thought, I had to ask.

“Did anyone see where he went?”

The Drunk replied.

“I instinctively looked down when the table fell. From a psychological warfare standpoint, that was a clean strike.”

The Lecher answered.

“Same here. I missed it while watching the table turn to dust.”

I glanced over at the Sword Demon to see his reaction. The eldest spoke up.

“There was nothing special. After throwing the table, he retreated like anyone else would.”

“Oh. As expected.”

It seemed the Sword Demon had been observing the White-Robed Scholar’s retreat. This was why he was our eldest. Just in case, I gave a directive to the Four Great Villains.

“If any of you happen to run into the White-Robed Scholar again, make sure to challenge him to a lightness skill duel first.”

“Why?”

I couldn’t come up with a solid reason.

“Just do it. He’s a lunatic. Better that than a straight-up martial arts fight. At least let him do what he enjoys.”

The Lecher, apparently confident in his own lightness skill, asked,

“What if I win?”

That outcome was unlikely, but I went along with the hypothetical.

“He’ll be happy.”

“He enjoys his own defeat?”

I nodded.

“You think a guy like that will sulk over losing? He’ll just challenge you again.”

“Hm, I think I get the type now.”

A little while later, I cleaned up the brutal battlefield alongside the Namyeonghui.

I did the killing, so cleanup was my responsibility too. We buried all the remains and rubble in a large pit, and then poured wine from the jars that Sam Bok and the Namyeonghui brothers had brought over the mound of earth.

As I poured the wine, I addressed the dead.

“In life, you were cultists, but in death, just men who once lived in Jianghu. I held no personal grudge against you. Had I lost, I would be the one buried here. Now that I’ve survived, I offer this wine to you. In your next lives, may you not die simply because you followed orders. What good is doctrine in the face of death?”

I emptied the entire jar over the grave. Nam Garak, standing beside me, spoke with a deflated tone.

“I came here fully prepared, but we didn’t even get to fight. Why did you suddenly become so strong?”

I looked at him silently. He had no way of knowing what I’d been through recently.

“Right? I got beaten around left and right, and somewhere along the line, I just got stronger. Anyone injured?”

Nam Garak laughed.

“You’ve got to do something to get hurt.”

A hollow chuckle escaped me too, and I sat down near the mound of dirt.

“Anyway, Lord Nam.”

“Go ahead.”

“I’m glad you came. It’s good to see your face.”

“I didn’t expect to hear your news through the Martial Alliance either.”

We both laughed.

And once my butt hit the ground, the fatigue hit me like a wave.

Only then did the Four Great Villains collapse to the floor as well, and the Namyeonghui brothers who had made the long journey here finally sat down. They hadn’t fought, but they’d run far, and clearly expected to face the Cult sooner or later. Now, it seemed, they were finally letting their guard down.

With tired expressions, everyone sat in a circle, passing around jars of wine. Drinking was the only act that offered some emotional relief.

The wine wet the throats of the Four Great Villains and the Namyeonghui brothers alike.

I didn’t know what they were all thinking, but after pouring wine over the grave, we all shared a drink.

Then, I found myself curious about how the Four Heavenly Kings would be treated now, and asked the Sword Demon.

“Senior, what happens if the Four Heavenly Kings return to the Cult after losing so many troops and failing to recover the Bright Sword? Will they be punished or beaten to death by the Cult Leader?”

The Sword Demon replied.

“Who knows what the Cult Leader is thinking.”

I looked at the Third Young Master. He gave the same answer.

“No way to know.”

I nodded.

“……Yeah. No way to know.”

Suddenly, I felt sorry for the Four Heavenly Kings. From what I saw, they each had extreme yang and extreme yin martial arts. The White Sky King and the Black Underworld King gave off a cold aura, while the Red King and the Blue Earth King seemed to possess extreme yang internal energy.

Which meant…

If they were later absorbed by the Heavenly Pearl, it would be bad for me. And if they survived and made a comeback, that would also be bad for me.

Getting involved with the Demonic Cult just makes life exhausting.

***

The Four Heavenly Kings, having returned to the main base, were now kneeling.

The silence was heavy—no one dared speak. Then, the sound of the Cult Leader’s footsteps echoed. The four of them lowered their heads as he approached.

The Cult Leader sat upon his throne, tapping the armrest with his finger. Only then did the Four Heavenly Kings lift their heads.

Resting his chin on one hand, the Cult Leader studied their faces and finally spoke.

“The reason your titles bear the word ‘King’ is because you are meant to grow strong enough to stand shoulder to shoulder with the Sword King and Blade King. Eventually, you are to defeat such figures and prove that our Cult has greater talent.”

The Four Heavenly Kings replied in unison.

“Yes, Cult Leader.”

“I’ve heard a summary of the situation… You failed to recover the Bright Sword, suffered substantial troop losses, failed to kill the traitor, failed to bring back the Third Young Master, and in essence, lost your entire force at Baek Eung-ji. And yet you return, breathing. Blue Earth, Black Underworld, White Sky, Red.”

As if rehearsed, the four of them offered no excuse.

“We accept punishment.”

The Cult Leader turned toward the hall outside.

“Right Guardian.”

“Yes, Cult Leader.”

A middle-aged man in crimson ceremonial robes stepped into the hall and approached the throne.

The Cult Leader addressed him.

“You must have thoughts of your own. Speak freely to the Four Heavenly Kings. I will listen.”

The Right Guardian gave a slight nod and turned to face them.

“Yes. I will share my thoughts with you.”

The Four Heavenly Kings bowed politely.

“We are listening.”

In a calm, detached tone, the Right Guardian said,

“Encircling someone with a formation does not mean they are truly trapped. The former Left Guardian is not a man who escapes easily. Had it been me, and with a large enough force, I would have sent an assassin every few hours for three days and nights straight, depriving him of sleep. You lost most of your forces. Do you consider my strategy of sacrificing one assassin per shift wrong?”

“No, we do not.”

“You already know the strategy of cutting off water supplies, blocking reinforcements, and sending assassins to wear down the enemy over time. Did you think you could win against the former Left Guardian simply by being polite? Black Underworld King, you're not the type to act that way. Explain yourself.”

The Black Underworld King answered,

“The elders opposed such measures.”

“The Four Heavenly Kings do not rank below the elders. If they disobeyed, you should’ve killed them first.”

He lowered his head.

“If it happens again, I will do so.”

The Right Guardian continued.

“Even if you had spent three days wearing him down, set up a temporary poison array in front of the main formation, and controlled your offense and defense, would you still have lost? White Sky King, answer.”

The White Sky King looked at the Right Guardian.

“Yes, I believe we still would have lost.”

“Why?”

“As you said, we made the mistake of treating the former Left Guardian with excessive courtesy. But more importantly, the martial art of the Haomun Master—the technique he used to massacre a large number of troops at once—was something we had no way to counter. Even if we had harassed him for days, it’s possible we’d still have been struck mid-operation. Everyone’s attention was on the former Left Guardian, so no one saw the Haomun Master as someone that important.”

The Right Guardian asked,

“And what exactly was that technique? Red King, explain.”

“With all due respect, the martial technique the Haomun Master used closely resembled the one the Cult Leader practices. It openly manipulated both yin and yang energy, forming a Tai Chi-like—or perhaps Heaven-Defying—technique. All troops attempted to block it, but nothing could interfere with the completed execution. The damage it caused was far beyond our expectations. Without the protection of White Sky King and several elders who expended vast internal energy to shield us, none of us would have survived.”

Blue Earth King added,

“His individual martial power is not much different from ours. But that one technique… ruined everything. As you said, the former Left Guardian didn’t avoid one-on-ones and was already worn down by repeated elder duels. Our siege tactics were proceeding as planned.”

The Cult Leader, who had been silent until then, finally spoke.

“So that’s how it was. What would you have done if you had been there, Right Guardian?”

The Right Guardian answered.

“I also did not consider the Haomun Master a threat, so I might have failed like the Four Heavenly Kings.”

The Cult Leader replied,

“Don’t defend them—just give your honest thoughts.”

With a thin smile, the Right Guardian said,

“Cult Leader, there’s something strange in their report. They describe the technique in such detail—so why didn’t they stop it? If it were me, I wouldn’t have allowed even a moment’s opening. I would’ve issued an order to scatter the troops and prevented the execution altogether.”

The Cult Leader nodded and turned to the Black Underworld King.

“Reenact what happened.”

Pale-faced, the Black Underworld King rose.

“Yes.”

He gulped, standing stiffly. The Right Guardian spoke.

“Why so unlike yourself, Black Underworld King? Recreate the technique the Haomun Master used. Describe the stance, atmosphere, shape, and traits in detail.”

Unable to bear watching, the Blue Earth King stood up in his place.

“Forgive me, but allow me to demonstrate instead.”

The Right Guardian gave a nod.

“Very well.”

Wrapping cloth around his palms, the Blue Earth King sighed briefly and stepped back. Turning sideways, he slowly extended both hands.

It was Tai Chi.

He deliberately adjusted his position to avoid pointing any energy directly at the Cult Leader—it was unthinkable to do so in a demonstration.

Regardless, the Blue Earth King began imitating the Tai Chi the Haomun Master had displayed.

And because reporting exactly as it happened was the rule, he had to move in the same sluggish, meandering way. He wanted to explain it verbally, but the sheer fear of the Cult Leader kept his mouth shut.

When he extended his hands in a wave-like motion, the Right Guardian said,

“What on earth are you doing?”

The Blue Earth King swallowed hard.

“I’m showing it exactly as it happened.”

“You’re saying he moved that slowly?”

“Yes.”

The other Heavenly Kings silently watched the demonstration. The Blue Earth King was faithfully copying the Haomun Master’s pathetic Tai Chi. And thinking about how the terrifying Cult Leader was watching nearby, they felt a deep, inexplicable sense of sorrow. It was all the more humiliating because it was true.

The Right Guardian asked,

“How long are you going to keep this up?”

The Blue Earth King answered,

“…Right about here, he turned around and combined red and white energy. That’s when the hallucinations began. By then it was too late—if the Haomun Master had unleashed it, not only we Four Heavenly Kings, but the remaining elders too would have perished. However, he seemed to realize he might die as well, so he threw the technique at a cluster of our troops instead. And then…”

Suddenly, the Blue Earth King looked startled and glanced at the Right Guardian. The Right Guardian narrowed his brow.

“What? Speak.”

“I… I remember nothing after that. I later learned I was pulled out by White Sky King.”

The Right Guardian sighed and bowed his head toward the Cult Leader.

“My apologies, Cult Leader. It seems not only the Heavenly Kings, but I too made mistakes today…”

Still resting his chin on his hand, the Cult Leader asked the Four Heavenly Kings,

“What did he call that technique?”

“There was no name given.”

The Cult Leader murmured,

“So he used slow, absurd movements to launch a psychological attack. Jianghu is full of strange men like that. Victory does not come from martial skill alone. But remember—this entire failure began with your courtesy toward the former Left Guardian. That misplaced courtesy could’ve cost you your lives. To think that people titled ‘King’ could be so soft… I’ll be laughing hollowly for days.”

At those words, the Four Heavenly Kings prostrated themselves flat against the ground.

And for the first time in a very long time, the Cult Leader let out an awkward, nasal laugh.