While eating, I kept glancing at Hongshin and Geum Hae.
I was curious if they were actually enjoying the food, and whether sharing a meal with me was making it go down smoothly or not.

Hongshin and Geum Hae were shoveling food into their mouths like they were digging trenches.

Some people labor all day just to earn a single meal. These two had thrown themselves into the martial world—what were they thinking as they ate?
Still, I didn’t ask.
It could’ve been just another meaningless daily meal, after all.

I didn’t eat as ravenously as Geum Hae, but I attacked the food like a soldier on the battlefield, praising my attendants’ cooking along the way.

“This is good, that’s good, everything tastes great.”

“It really does.”

Hongshin’s appetite was just as strong—no doubt because her diarrhea had finally ended.

Whatever was on each of their minds, we devoured every dish the attendants had laid out with spotless efficiency.

Afterward, like warriors resting after a skirmish, the three of us sat back and just breathed.

‘Hopeless fools…’

Hongshin asked with innocent curiosity,

“So, Brother, what are you planning to do now?”

“I need to fight Baek-yu, but it doesn’t really mean much to me.”

I was planning to kill the Great Rakshasa—what did becoming a Divine General matter?

“Tell me about the Great Rakshasa’s crimes. I get the feeling that hearing them will help me level up my martial arts.”

Hongshin replied,

“Hearing about his crimes helps your martial arts? How?”

I glanced at her and answered,

“To fight well, you need emotion. You need to get angry—pushed to the edge of madness.”

“But then you might make a mistake.”

“That’s when you deliberately douse yourself in cold water. Realize that getting worked up will cost you the fight. You calm yourself down. Keep your rage buried deep in your heart, and cover it with a blanket of ice. Ice and fire coexisting in your heart—like extreme yang and extreme yin in harmony.”

Geum Hae, looking puzzled, asked,

“You’ve learned yin-based martial arts too?”

I didn’t know why, but every time this rich kid opened his mouth, I felt a chill.
He was from a merchant family—he’d know things, have connections.

I answered cautiously.

“Nope. I’d love to learn, but haven’t had the chance yet. Do you know a good method?”

Geum Hae said,

“Yin-based techniques are rare. But there’s something I’ve heard of…”

I focused, listening closely.

“There was a woman who used to be a saintess of the Heavenly Demon Cult. She broke away and formed [N O V E L I G H T] a sect called Jade Blossom Palace. It was entirely composed of women, all trained in ice arts. The palace lord herself was especially powerful, so the sect grew strong. Once the power struggles in the Heavenly Demon Cult settled down, the first thing they did was move to crush Jade Blossom Palace. The sect requested help from Baekdo, and the two groups formed an alliance at Mount Okhwa. The Jade Blossom-Baekdo Alliance clashed with the Heavenly Demon Cult. This happened about twenty years ago.”

Well, well.

Since it was around the time I was born, I obviously had no idea.
No one ever explained martial history like this to a servant like Jomsoi.

“And then?”

“The damage on both sides was severe, but the Heavenly Demon Cult won. Jade Blossom Palace was engulfed in flames, and Baekdo retreated. Some survivors remained. But fearing they’d be dragged back and made into saintesses again, many of them got married off across various regions. The lineage of Jade Blossom Ice Arts wasn’t lost. Not a happy ending, though. Some disciples even became concubines just to lose their eligibility for sainthood.”

From what I knew, the Left Guardian was a member of a side branch.

So I asked the most important question.

“Anyone famous come from that lineage?”

“Not yet. They’re probably keeping it hidden. They brought great damage to Baekdo and were considered apostates by the Heavenly Demon Cult.”

So the Left Guardian is the child of apostates who returned to the demonic sect?

From the cult’s perspective, someone with the blood of a saintess returning with ice arts might’ve been welcomed, not rejected.

Which would make the Left Guardian a bastard child, born of a concubine, descended from apostates, and the heir of Jade Blossom Palace—an enemy of Baekdo and a heretic to the cult.

Shunned by Baekdo.
Regarded as a traitor by the Heavenly Demon Cult.
Likely treated as a bastard even in his own household.

It’s no wonder the guy turned into such a twisted freak.

He grew up utterly isolated.
A deeply damaged individual.

Still, no matter how twisted he is, I’m not about to let him get away with his perversions again.
He was in his mid to late twenties when he got caught harassing young women—meaning he probably hasn’t started yet in this timeline.

I’ll kill the Great Rakshasa, stop this freak from going off the rails, and avoid the previous Crazy Demon while I’m at it.

What an electrifying, busy life this is turning out to be.

This is why martial artists must grow strong.

If I were weak, I wouldn’t be able to kill the Great Rakshasa, stop the pervert, or dodge the previous Crazy Demon dragging me off to look at fish off the coast of Zhejiang.

Goddamned fish, turtles, deep-sea fishing…

Watching a monk fish at sea makes you start questioning the source of all things in the universe.
If it’s not that, then it’s “I want to smell the flowers on Mount Hua” or “Let’s go find the Great Peng.”
Every time, I wanted to beg him to just recite some sutras instead.
But the previous Crazy Demon would always say he was a defrocked monk and forgot all his sutras.

“Sister. Brother.”

“Yes, Brother.”

“You need to grow stronger. There’s nothing more pathetic than being weak in the martial world. Do either of you know what kind of fish live off the coast of Zhejiang?”

“No idea.”

“What’s the difference anyway?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

I was about to launch into another unbelievable story when the main hall doors opened and So Gunpyeong appeared.

“Pavilion Lord, the Divine Generals Hwang-o, Baekja, Hyeonchuk, and Jumi have arrived outside.”

“Out of nowhere? Have I been exposed?”

“Not yet, it seems.”

“Troops?”

“Just the Generals.”

I turned to Geum Hae.

“Why do you think they’ve all shown up?”

Geum Hae replied,

“Maybe Baek-yu’s on his way. The others probably came to spectate the Divine General duel.”

“Let’s go.”

As Geum Hae and Hongshin stood up, I said,

“You don’t have masks. Wait a bit, then blend in with my subordinates and watch from there.”

“Understood.”

***

A yellow horse, a black ox, a white rat, and a red sheep were huddled together in conversation—it looked more like a masked play than anything else.

As I stepped in wearing the mask of the Black Cat, all four turned to cup their fists in salute.

“Brother Myo.”

“It’s been a while.”

There wasn’t a shred of tension in their voices. Which only confirmed it for me—Baek-yu must really be on his way. But then, one of them suddenly sneered.

“So, is today finally the day one of the Divine General seats gets replaced? Can’t wait to see it.”

I ignored the bullshit and spoke to So Gunpyeong instead.

“You all stay back and hold the line. Like a mountain.”

“But isn’t the Pavilion Lord stronger than Baek-yu?”

A way of asking if they’d even get the chance to step in.

I glanced over at the smug Divine Generals and replied,

“Doesn’t feel like that kind of situation. Anyway, just stay sharp.”

“Yes, Pavilion Lord.”

Everyone wore masks, so I couldn’t read their expressions. Moments later, a figure with a white mask bearing a rooster’s crest dropped down onto the wall.

Those who had given me half-hearted greetings bowed politely to him.

“Greetings, Brother Baek-yu.”

Baek-yu waved a hand and ordered them curtly,

“Clear the center.”

As people dispersed, an open space for the duel naturally formed.

Baek-yu sat down casually on the wall and addressed me.

“Brother Myo, how have you been?”

I answered briefly.

“Same as always. And you, Rooster?”

“No major issues.”

The moment I saw Baek-yu sit down on the wall, I was certain—there were more visitors coming.

Behind me, Black Cat Gang officers had taken their spots. Around the courtyard walls, the lesser Divine Generals settled in.

Which meant someone would be occupying the remaining sections of the wall.

So Gunpyeong seemed to have noticed as well.

“Looks like all the Divine Generals are showing up.”

“Sure does.”

Soon after, Baek-in, Cheongjin, and Jeoksa arrived almost simultaneously and took their places atop the walls.

It looked like they were either securing prime spectator seats—or forming a watch net to keep anyone from running.

Either way, all of the still-living Twelve Divine Generals had gathered.

The lesser Generals busied themselves offering greetings every time a new one appeared. The higher-ranking Divine Generals, in turn, didn’t even acknowledge them beyond a slight nod.

I didn’t greet the Divine Generals. I just stared forward.

The Black Cat Gang’s main gate swung open with a heavy creak. Then the outer courtyard gate followed. And finally, the inner gate opened wide, giving me a direct, unobstructed view straight through all three entrances.

Must’ve been the attendants who came ahead and opened them.

A gaunt, black-haired man appeared at the main gate.

His long hair hung down, and the sleeve on his right arm fluttered in the wind—his right arm seemed to be severed around the elbow.

His face was full of small ridges.

Thick lips, protruding cheekbones, bulging forehead, and fish-like eyes.

Oily skin glistened across his entire face, and his eyes were sharp.

It was impossible to tell whether he was wise or foolish at first glance—but no one would doubt how stubborn he looked.

He seemed to be well past fifty.

The overall impression was that of a giant, black stag beetle striding into the courtyard.

At last, the Great Rakshasa entered the inner courtyard, and the entire assembly of Divine Generals bowed in unison.

“Greetings, Master.”

Even I, knowing my manners, cupped my fists briefly before relaxing my posture.

A servant followed behind and offered a chair. Without even glancing, the Great Rakshasa dropped into it.

His eyes locked directly onto me as he spoke.

“I was bored, so I came. Fight.”

“Yes.”

I responded and stepped down from the raised platform. That’s when Baek-yu stood up from the wall—the duel had been scheduled between us, after all.

But the Great Rakshasa spoke to Baek-yu.

“Fourth.”

“Yes, Master.”

He shook his head.

“He’s not someone you can handle. Sit down.”

Baek-yu cleared his throat awkwardly and sat back on the wall.

Meanwhile, I stood in the center of the courtyard, staring silently at the Great Rakshasa. He pointed a finger at me and said,

“The match list is wrong. Baek-in.”

“Yes.”

“Cheongjin.”

“Yes, Master.”

“And Jeoksa… All three of you, go down and face him together. That should be worth watching.”

The three, without a word of protest, stepped down into the courtyard.

The Great Rakshasa spoke again, his voice raspy.

“Today, our fifth disciple—who has apparently achieved a sudden leap in power—will face three Divine Generals at once. The duel will follow life-and-death rules. Kill or be killed. The rest of you are forbidden from interfering.”

I couldn’t help but be impressed.

This crafty old bastard.

I don’t know how he figured something was off, but he showed up under the pretense of dealing with internal matters. Surrounded the place in a flash, and even moved personally just to be sure. It was clean, quick, and efficient.

The fact that we both happened to use the phrase “sudden leap in power” made it feel like a twisted bit of fate.

I raised my hand and objected.

“Master?”

To his credit, he didn’t ignore me.

“Yes, our dear fifth. Got something to say despite having no shame?”

I clasped my hands together respectfully.

“There’s a problem with the match list.”

“Oh yeah? Want me to cut one of them? Or maybe throw Baek-yu in as well? Take your pick.”

I raised my voice.

“Ah, fuck this. Tch.”

“……”

This time, I said it in a scolding tone.

“That’s not what I meant. If this is a death match, you should be the one coming down here. Old man’s lost his damn mind—doesn’t make a lick of sense. Pissing me off.”

Silence.

It was dead quiet.

Too quiet. I looked around from behind my Black Cat mask.

Not a single person opened their mouth.

I gave a twitch of my shoulders and laughed to myself.
No one joined me, which made it awkward, but hey—when it’s funny, you laugh.

I kept going. Drew it out. Laughed as long as I could.

Eventually, I got bored and said to the Great Rakshasa,

“Caught you red-handed. That was fun while it lasted.”

And then I gave the Great Rakshasa a wink.