Hwang-o, the Divine General who’d emerged from the house with the weaving grandmother, walked straight toward the inn.

Just as I was pouring Jomsoi another drink, Hwang-o grabbed him by the hair without warning.

“You see anyone come out from back there?”

Jomsoi flinched and stammered,

“Ah, uh… no. I didn’t see anyone.”

Hwang-o turned his eyes on me.

“What about you?”

I stretched my left hand and pointed behind him.

“Not that way—over there.”

As soon as he turned his head, I used Absorption Technique to yank him toward me and grabbed his throat.

“Gurk!”

Hwang-o was a bastard I’d already told Hongshin to kill. A Divine General with a reputation for cruelty.

And he just grabbed Jomsoi’s hair in front of me?

With my left hand tightening around his neck, I slammed my right fist into his mask.

Crack!

The mask shattered on the first hit. When his real face appeared, I locked eyes with him and kept pummeling his face with my fist.

Smack! Crack!

His facial bones collapsed with every blow. I gave his face one last crushing hit, then flung his body into the center of the street.

Hwang-o’s corpse rolled several times before it stopped.

Jomsoi stood there trembling.

“Don’t be scared. That’s just how things go in Jianghu.”

I wiped the blood off my fist with some Dugangju.
Poured the rest into my cup, then offered one to Jomsoi.

“Drink.”

“Yes.”

Jomsoi, who’d always offered his cup with one hand, now held it out with both—classic survival etiquette.
I didn’t say anything. He looked way too shaken anyway, so I figured I should calm him down.

“Nok-sul was the one who died earlier. That was Hwang-o.”

“Ah, right… makes sense.”

If we’d actually fought properly, Hwang-o would’ve kicked and flailed and resisted like hell. But he let his guard down the moment he saw me drinking with Jomsoi.

I drank the Dugangju with Jomsoi.
But he still looked pale.

“Go inside and rest. I’ll send someone later to pay the tab. I’m gonna stay and finish this bottle.”

“A-all right. I’ll just…”

He practically ran into the inn to hide.

Just then, two minor Divine Generals rushed up to check Hwang-o’s body.

“He’s still nearby.”

Chewing my dried squid, I glanced at the Black Ox and Red Sheep.
Hyeonchuk, the Divine General, looked at me and shouted,

“What the fuck are you staring at, asshole?”

I calmly turned away and plucked a chopstick from the container.
Infused it with wood-element inner energy, then hurled it straight at Hyeonchuk’s forehead.

Thunk—

The chopstick embedded itself in his skull.

Red Sheep turned to flee and shouted,

“Brother! He’s here—!”

Thunk!

A half-full Dugangju bottle struck the back of his head.

Jumi, the Divine General, crumpled forward.
I pulled out another chopstick and hurled it into the back of his head as he lay there.

It hit clean.

Now two more of the Twelve Divine Generals were dead in the street.

Hwang-o had died because he let his guard down.
Hyeonchuk and Jumi had been weaklings from the start—bottom-tier among the Twelve.

Hongshin and Geum Hae had been lucky—got to eat, ride a wagon, and visit a doctor.
But war doesn’t care. It’s ruthless.

Still chewing my dried snack, I stood up and walked down the central road.

Baekja was charging toward me from ahead.

We made brief eye contact.
I ducked into a side alley and leaned against a wall.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

Arms crossed, I waited.
Baekja, sensing something suspicious, circled back and entered the alley.

But the moment he spotted me near the entrance, he panicked and unleashed a blast of energy with his right hand.
Judging by the reflex, he was a palm technique user.

Wham!

I countered with a left-hand block, twisted my wrist, and locked his arms.

Then, using Absorption Technique, I siphoned off his inner energy and sprinted like hell down the alley.

As his resistance weakened, I yanked him in and slammed my fist into his throat.

Gnk!

Then a flick between my thumb and forefinger to snap his neck.

Dragging his body behind me, I walked a bit, then stopped to listen.

I stripped him of his white robe and mask, changed into his clothes, and stared down at his dead face.

Then I laid him in a corner of the alley and covered him with an old ragged mat—something a local beggar had used.

“In your next life, try not to meet someone like me.”

I neatened my new robe and adjusted the mask just right.

If anyone notices my pants don’t match—well, they deserve the win.

The important thing now is to sow chaos, not cover every detail.
No one’s calm during war.

With that, only the Divine Generals and the Great Rakshasa remained.

I checked the match roster again.

Still a nasty 5-on-1 setup.

I had a rough idea of the Divine Generals’ skills based on what I’d seen from the Black Cat Pavilion.
But the Great Rakshasa’s strength remained unclear.
One more kill wouldn’t hurt.

I could feel my blood boiling. Took a deep breath and cleared my mind—an insight from Wooden Chicken Technique.

Stepped back into the open alley, where the Divine Generals were gathered, inspecting the corpses of their comrades.

As I approached, I heard Baek-yu speaking.

“We won’t catch him at this rate. He’s been faster than us from the start. He’s luring us out one by one. What do we do? If this keeps up, we’ll be playing into his hands.”

Cheongjin nodded.

“Let’s stay grouped. All four of us together—he won’t be able to touch us.”

I silently walked up and stood beside Jeoksa, staring down at the dead disciples.
Let out a quiet murmur.

“To die so meaninglessly…”

Jeoksa offered another idea.

“Let’s go back to Master.”

I glanced sideways at him.

He’d been the first to attack me earlier.
And even now, in a moment like this, he was thinking about the Great Rakshasa.
Was it loyalty? Or just ingrained slave mentality? Hard to tell.

Cheongjin disagreed.

“If we go back like this, Master will be even more furious.”

I quietly listened to the kings of the jungle deliberate.

White Tiger Baek-yu stayed silent.
So the others turned to Baek-in like they wanted him to make the call.

“Senior brother, your decision?”

Baek-in, the leader of the Twelve Divine Generals, finally spoke.

“Let’s keep tracking him. Like Cheongjin said, the four of us will stay together. Baekja, go report to Master. Tell him the Divine Generals pursued the target.”

I replied briefly,

“Yes.”

Cheongjin asked again.

“Are you saying we should stay away from Master for a while?”

Baek-in lowered his voice as he spoke.

“Either way, his target is Master. He didn’t do all this just to kill us. At first, I thought he was just rambling nonsense, but the thing about madmen is—sometimes their nonsense is genuine.”

“You mean he really meant it when he told us to stay out of it?”

“Seems that way.”

“Then why did he kill the other disciples?”

Baek-in saw straight through it.

“Because he’s insane.”

I nodded in agreement. The others seemed to silently accept it too.

‘Still, he speaks like a true senior.’

These useless bastards were seriously discussing survival in front of their dead comrades. Baek-in continued.

“If the four of us stay together, it won’t be easy for him to take us on. But from the way he kept talking about one-on-ones, there’s a good chance he’ll show up wherever Master is alone. You get what I mean? Master hates using lightness techniques, so he’ll be staying put in the Black Cat Pavilion.”

I heard Baek-in’s words and thought to myself,

‘Bad back, maybe?’

Judging from his severed arm, it was clear he’d survived more than a few injuries over the years.

The other disciples glanced at Baek-in.

If the Great Rakshasa dies, he’s the one who’d gain the most—so of course he’d say this.

Surprisingly, Baek-in even tried to win me over.

“…We can raise Baekja to the rank of Divine General. The four of us can start over. Like he said—how long are we going to keep living like slaves? I’m sick of watching young people get tortured.”

I nodded repeatedly like I agreed. But before I knew it, I’d opened my big mouth instead of just nodding.

“Then how about I just kill Master myself? Doesn’t that solve everything?”

All four—Baek-in, Cheongjin, Jeoksa, and Baek-yu—turned their heads toward me in unison.

“……”

I let out a sigh. Yi Zaha and the identity of Baekja were getting all jumbled up in my head.

The saying that masks worsen madness is no lie.

Look at me for proof.

Right now, Jeoksa was standing right next to me.

I struck with Wooden Chicken Finger Technique using my left hand to ambush him, and at the same time blasted forward with Flame Rooster Palm Force from my right.

In an instant, my palm flared crimson as an enormous force burst forth like Buddha’s open palm.

Baek-in, Cheongjin, and Baek-yu all responded with twin palms.

KWAHHHHHHHHH!

The shockwave varied depending on the depth of their internal energy.

Baek-yu flew straight back, rolling across the ground.

Baek-in and Cheongjin staggered back six or seven steps but managed to stay on their feet.

Jeoksa’s meridians had been struck—he couldn’t move.

I pulled off Jeoksa’s mask and layered it over the Baekja mask I was already wearing.

Then I spoke to the other Divine Generals who were facing me.

“I’ve got the masks of Black Cat, Nok-sul, Baekja, and Jeoksa. You think you’ll be any different?”

Since I had Jeoksa hostage, none of them dared move.

“I’ve always preferred one-on-one fights. Don’t push me. How could you bastards who call yourselves martial artists fight so disgustingly? If the Great Rakshasa and I fight and one of us dies, doesn’t that settle everything? It was a simple problem, but now you’re all living complicated lives just to die stupidly. Baek-in, what’ll it be?”

Baek-in answered immediately.

“We won’t come near the Black Cat Pavilion today. Just let Jeoksa go.”

I stroked Jeoksa’s head and replied.

“I can’t let him go.”

“Why not?”

“He’s the one who led the abductions of helpless women to be offered to the Great Rakshasa. Sure, the low-rankers may have handled the dirty work, but this bastard was in charge.”

Just as Baek-in lost his words, I grabbed the immobile bastard by the scruff and hurled him into the wall. Head first, Jeoksa flew with a sickening thud and crumpled beneath the wall.

Of course, that wasn’t the only reason I killed him.

He had struck first earlier, and the Twelve Divine Generals strategy guide said he was the most loyal to the Great Rakshasa. Hell, he’d even recently offered up a blue-eyed beauty—more than enough reason to die.

Looking at the three stiffly standing generals, I said,

“Guess we’re down to three now.”

I pointed at Baek-in, Cheongjin, and Baek-yu.

“If you’ve got no desire to live, come at me four-on-one in the Black Cat Pavilion. If you die, so be it. If you’re lucky enough to live, then go back to being the Great Rakshasa’s slaves. I’m leaving.”

Still wearing Jeoksa’s mask, I turned my back and walked toward the Black Cat Pavilion.

They could’ve ambushed me from behind, but I just kept walking.

I thought about going back to grab Jeoksa’s weapons—but that would’ve ruined the mood, so I let it go.

A man can’t show his back in a moment like this.

Even though the back of my head itched like hell, I kept my stride steady and walked on.

Honestly, if after all that «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» they still come at me again, they’re hopeless cases.

When I arrived at the Black Cat Pavilion, the doors were still wide open.

I muttered to myself as I walked toward the Great Rakshasa.

“Your disciple has returned. Jeoksa has come back. Baekja has come back. Having sent off Hyeonchuk and Jumi, Zaha has returned alive. Hwang-o has gone to the scorching hell, Jeoksa to the infinite hell… and where will I fall? Master? Where is our dogshit Master hiding?”

When I stepped into the inner courtyard, the layout had changed.

The Great Rakshasa was seated on the raised platform again, and all of the Black Cat Pavilion underlings on my side were kneeling.

So he’d found time during all this chaos to play king and slaves again.

Still wearing Jeoksa’s mask, I stared up at the Great Rakshasa, then called out to him once—my voice heavy with emotion.

“Master…”