The Sword Demon set his teacup down and said,

“If you don’t want to reveal your sect, there’s no need to force it. But how about we ask each other questions, answer them, and if something truly worth knowing comes up—we trade. Gradually, of course. Since we should at least understand each other a little.”

“You’re suggesting a structured exchange of questions?”

“Exactly.”

“Sounds good.”

“Ask what you’re curious about.”

But once I tried to ask, I realized—I had too many questions. I had to organize my priorities first.

As I fell into deep thought, the Guardian chimed in.

“Master, may I join in with a question now and then?”

“Go ahead.”

“Thank you.”

The three of us sat there, like warlords of Wei, Shu, and Wu picking through their words in a war council.

I started with my first question for the Sword Demon.

“Why are you teaching a filthy shitter like him?”

He replied calmly.

“I plan to make him the next Heavenly Demon. Does that answer it?”

It felt like he had just smacked me with a palm strike. That was not the answer I was expecting.

Both the Sword Demon and I turned to look at the Guardian, who quickly shook his head.

“I’ll pass on that question.”

Even this guy, who’d later become the Left Guardian, acted like a docile lamb in front of his master. The Sword Demon gave a small nod, then asked me a question.

“You don’t seem like someone from the Righteous Path, nor the Demonic Path. And if you were, there’s no way I wouldn’t know you. Which means your origins lie either in Tibet or with one of the Triad Masters… or, hard as it is to believe, you might be self-taught.”

I cursed internally.

My forearms broke out in goosebumps.

How the hell could he narrow it down that far without even seeing my martial arts?

He pushed again.

“Am I correct?”

“You are.”

I kept it as brief as possible. The longer we played this game, the more I’d learn.

I glanced at his wooden sword and then at the Guardian, and asked,

“What exactly are you teaching him? The shitter uses ice arts, and you seem to be a swordsman.”

The Sword Demon gestured toward the Guardian.

“He learned ice arts before he met me. Look at him—he’s a rough and unpolished one. Just because I wield the sword well doesn’t mean he would. The man downed a laxative before fighting—how much do you think I have to teach him? It’s better for each to deepen what they’re already good at.”

Hard to argue with that logic.

‘What a smug bastard…’

I nodded grudgingly. This time, the Sword Demon posed the next question.

“What’s the martial art you’re most confident in? Your hands don’t have many calluses.”

Despite the fact I had Fang of the Black Rabbit sheathed at my side, he didn’t peg me as a swordsman.

I realized—lying here was useless. This man could separate truth from falsehood instantly.

I answered in my own way.

“I’ve learned a variety of techniques. I don’t rely on just one. I’m confident in several, and I adapt based on the situation.”

He nodded with a blank expression.

“So you’re not exceptional at anything.”

A short sigh escaped me. It felt like he’d just sliced my arm with a clean sword stroke.

He held out his hand.

“Your turn.”

To understand why a man of the Demonic Path would stay in Baek Eung-ji, I threw out a broad question.

“What’s a figure like you doing in the Righteous territory?”

He thought for a moment before replying.

“I’m waiting for a duel with the Alliance Leader. He’s not the kind of man I can challenge at just any time, so I must wait. And recover from my injuries in the meantime.”

I wasn’t even surprised anymore. I scratched my head and nodded. Then, with a clean counterattack, the Sword Demon pressed again.

“You’ve never met me before—but you seem to know my disciple. If you hadn’t fed him poison, it means you wanted something. What is it you’re after?”

I stared at him.

Was this guy secretly using phantom sword techniques?

I suddenly felt like intangible blades had surrounded me—if I lied, they’d pierce me immediately.

It had started as a Q&A, but now it felt like a battle with my life on the line. Even the Guardian looked like he realized this wasn’t your average conversation.

But I’m not the type to hesitate long. I told the truth—clean, direct. Any inconsistencies, I’d patch up later.

“I want his ice technique.”

The Sword Demon’s expression changed instantly, and the invisible pressure around me vanished all at once.

He and the Guardian stared at me, suspicion in their eyes.

Figuring I’d already crossed the line, I decided to press further.

“Why’d you take this guy as a disciple? He’s a real pervert.”

“His desire for women is part of his nature. And nature is often inherited from one's parents. He likely takes after his father. Some children live cautiously, resisting their parents’ instincts. Others, like this one, embrace it fully. But his talent for martial arts is rare and remarkable.”

The Guardian’s surprise lay in how unsurprising he was. Even his master acknowledged that he was a born womanizer.

The Guardian didn’t even deny it, so the Sword Demon added, somewhat sheepishly,

“I didn’t stop him from chasing women. I simply told him not to harm them or speak crudely. But sooner or later, he’ll cause problems. The prettier and more naive the girls are, the more trouble he’ll attract. Eventually, he’ll face the consequences of his nature.”

It was practically a prophecy.

The Guardian, who’d been quiet until now, hesitantly asked,

“Master, what do you mean by ‘consequences’?”

“The consequences are…”

“Yes?”

“I don’t know either. But one day, when you finally meet a woman you truly love, there’s a good chance she’ll look at you like you’re scum—because of your reputation. Right now, you take joy in sleeping with many women, but love isn’t that simple or easy. Still, telling you this is like reading scripture to a cow. You’ll do whatever you want. That, too, is fate.”

The Guardian slumped in his seat like he’d been seriously wounded.

I let out a snort to mock him.

‘Pipe down, you filthy shitter.’

And just like that, it was back to me and the Sword Demon.

He asked,

“My turn again. Why do you want the ice technique?”

I scratched my forehead. At this point, I could see the form of each attack in his questions. This one was a clean, straight punch. No dodging it—I had to block head-on.

“To kill the Cult Leader.”

I managed to block it, but I still felt backed into a corner. In response, I slashed forward with a question of my own.

“Why do you want to fight the Alliance Leader?”

The Sword Demon crossed his arms.

“That’s such an obvious question. But since you don’t know me, I suppose it’s fair.”

“Right.”

“Men who’ve stepped into the martial world and fought ten major battles or more… they’re rarely truly exceptional.”

I interrupted the rhythm of the Q&A with a question of my own.

“Why is that?”

“There are ten men I need to defeat. That’s what it means. You train, then meet a great warrior, cross blades. If you’re lucky and survive, you train again for a long time. While searching for the next strong opponent, even going through ten of them one by one isn’t enough time. Among those warriors, there was the Cult Leader, and then the Alliance Leader caught my interest. That’s all.”

I shut my mouth for a moment, surprised by the Sword Demon’s arrogant reply.

The Sword Demon added,

“That’s what I consider a true demon.”

This man was a demon walking the path of a seeker through the sword.

This time, it was the Sword Demon’s turn to ask.

“I don’t think you can kill the Cult Leader just by learning Ice Arts. Do you have a backup plan?”

The answer to that was simple, so I spoke my mind.

“What matters is harboring the killing intent toward the bastard who needs to die. The result doesn’t matter.”

The Sword Demon narrowed his brows and stared at me. It was the look of someone chewing over my words.

“Ask your question.”

Suddenly, I thought of the sixth form of Gu Yang Muguk’s sword techniques—Wooden Sword Form.

It was because the Sword Demon was carrying a wooden sword.

I had already given up on the fifth form, Thunder Sword Form, but seeing him holding a wooden sword naturally made me curious. Gu Yang Muguk and the Sword Demon might not be from the same sect, but swordsmen share something in common, so I asked him this:

“Does that wooden sword represent your level of mastery?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“What a curious question. The wooden sword has been my focus recently. Mastery... that might be one way to put it. Since I haven’t yet conquered the wooden sword. Does that answer your question?”

If I hadn’t read Giseongja’s explanation, I wouldn’t have understood his response. But thanks to the brief commentary I read on Muguk Sword Art, I could at least guess the Sword Demon’s general level.

The Sword Demon asked a very practical question.

“My disciple has no reason to teach you Ice Arts. How do you plan to obtain it?”

I responded without much thought.

“If I can’t get it, I’ll have to figure it out myself.”

The Sword Demon snorted, then nodded.

“Our questions and answers are done. I figured out your background first.”

I thought to myself, ‘Ah, so it’s that kind of duel.’ It was just that strange a match of questions and answers.

“So, where do you think I’m from?”

The Sword Demon answered,

“You’ve probably been influenced by a few people, but you’re someone without a true master. Basically, the kind of person who rises alone—like founders or great martial patriarchs. Your tendencies, your nature, your way of thinking—they’re all that of an independent man. You’re not seeking Ice Arts because you need it itself, but because it’s information for your next step. After all, ultimate yin techniques are part of the larger martial system. Those who invent their own martial arts tend to show these traits. You have no sect. Self-taught, that’s what fits. You’re still young, so you’re using bits of what you’ve picked up, but if you continue to improve, you’ll eventually create your own martial arts.”

For the first time since my regression, I was at a loss for words.

For a chatterbox like me to be speechless? That was a serious matter.

The Sword Demon asked to confirm.

“Was my guess wrong?”

“It’s correct.”

“A rare disposition is valuable in and of itself.”

The Sword Demon nodded without much expression, then looked toward the Left Guardian.

“If my disciple has wronged you in any way, please forgive him. Since he’s still alive, it must not have been a crime worth dying for. It’s my fault for not teaching him properly. If you’re willing to forgive him, then if you ever get stuck in your training or have something you want to ask, feel free to come find me.”

“……”

The Sword Demon continued,

“Besides, Ice Arts are like the soul of my disciple’s clan. Even if his heart changes and he chooses to pass it on, you won’t obtain it by taking his life. Still, whether by coincidence or fate, both of you seem to want the Cult Leader dead. Let’s end today with that confirmed.”

I turned to look at the Left Guardian with genuine surprise.

The little bastard didn’t even flinch. As if the Sword Demon’s words weren’t shocking at all.

‘You want to kill the Cult Leader?’

I stared at him and recalled his behavior, his speech, and his expressions back at Manjang Gorge. Then I came to a conclusion.

‘This bastard chased me down in a panic because he wanted to swallow the Heavenly Pearl for himself.’

No surprises that a lecher is a lecher.

But the real twist was that this bastard never intended to return the Heavenly Pearl to the Cult Leader in the first place. From the start, he wasn’t the type to hand over such a rare elixir to someone else.

Even when I slaughtered a hundred of the Heavenly Demon Cult’s elites…

It meant «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» the Left Guardian just followed behind, watching.

He was never concerned about my life. All he cared about was retrieving the Heavenly Pearl. That thought belonged solely to the Left Guardian. And if a faction like Okhwa Palace had been destroyed by the Heavenly Demon Cult, it would be even more natural for the survivors to seek revenge.

The Left Guardian spoke with an awkward expression.

“Master.”

The Sword Demon replied immediately.

“You.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t dwell on the fact that you got hit with a laxative. Just consider yourself lucky you didn’t get poisoned. If things had gone more viciously, you’d be dead by now. You fool, I told you to be careful.”

The Left Guardian answered with a flustered expression.

“I’ll take it to heart, Master.”

The Sword Demon pointed at him and delivered the finishing blow.

“You didn’t survive just because you were lucky. This man had something to gain from you. The Ice Arts of your clan are what kept you alive. I’m curious how long you plan to keep drinking and harassing women.”

With his head hanging low, the Left Guardian grabbed his hair and, to my surprise, answered,

“I’ll train harder from now on.”

“Women.”

“I’ll work harder at that too…”

The Sword Demon moved his wooden sword, and with a smack— the Left Guardian flew off the bench and rolled across the floor.

I stood with my arms crossed, watching him. Honestly, I was kind of impressed.

‘Damn, this little bastard’s something else.’

I looked at the Sword Demon for a long moment, then offered a genuine word of sympathy.

“You must have it rough.”

I began to wonder if maybe the Sword Demon died from liver failure in a past life.

As I glanced around the courtyard again, it became clear.

The Sword Demon, walking the path of a seeker with the sword.

The lecher, true to his lust.

And me, the madman.

All three of us bore nicknames that suited our true nature.