To summarize—

The Sword Demon has yet to face the Alliance Leader.

After that duel, it seems the Alliance Leader offered him a position within the Alliance. When that happened, even I don’t know.

If we assume the Sword Demon trained again after fighting the Alliance Leader and then went off in search of another strong opponent, it makes sense that his whereabouts became unknown from that point on.

Once the Sword Demon who beat people with a wooden sword disappeared, his disciple, that bastard Left Guardian, ran wild, gained a reputation as a lecher, and possibly joined the cult with the intention of killing the Cult Leader—that would tie everything together neatly.

Truthfully, the Q&A match had ended. But since the Sword Demon said I could ask anything if I was curious, I immediately threw out a question.

“In a rare martial arts manual I came across, there’s a level called Thunder Sword Form. What are your thoughts on it, Senior?”

The Sword Demon chuckled.

I didn’t even bother to feign humility and went straight into martial arts talk, which must’ve amused and intrigued him.

The Sword Demon replied.

“What does it say about Thunder Sword Form? There should be some description.”

‘The sword aura turns into thunder and lightning.’”

“…That’s it?”

I nodded.

‘So I’m not the only one who thought that was weird.’

Even {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} the Sword Demon was a bit thrown by how brief that explanation was. Who in their right mind could possibly learn the Muguk Sword Art with that?

But the Sword Demon asked for more context.

“If Thunder Sword Form is the name of a level, what comes before and after it?”

I took a deep breath.

I hesitated for a moment, but since I was the one seeking guidance, it was only right to speak.

“There are different stages. In order, they are Long Sword Form, Short Sword Form, Ten Thousand Swords Form, Blade Drawing Form, and then Thunder Sword Form.”

“And after that?”

“Wooden Sword Form, Energy Sword Form, Muguk Form.”

The Sword Demon thought for a moment, then nodded.

“It’s a structured system. They’ve assigned names to the levels one reaches while training in the sword. And it’s interesting that the sword art isn’t centered around complex techniques. Muguk Form must be the strongest move created by whoever developed this style. But I’ve never heard of a sect that defines its forms so simply. Sounds like it’s from at least a hundred years ago.”

“Most likely.”

The Left Guardian, forehead still swollen from the wooden sword, had quietly sat back down on the bench.

Since the Sword Demon was lost in thought, I also closed my eyes and crossed my arms. The three of us each reflected on Giseongja’s teachings in our own way.

The Sword Demon finally spoke.

“I’ll give you my opinion.”

I opened my eyes.

The Sword Demon continued.

“Take it for what it is—it’s just my theory. Don’t get too hung up on the term Thunder Sword Form. This senior likely developed inner strength with extreme yang properties. Naturally, if the sword aura exploded with overwhelming force, he would name it accordingly. Since energy often mirrors nature, it makes sense to describe it as thunder. But that doesn’t mean you have to create sword aura that looks like a thunderstorm. Do you understand?”

“I do.”

“Then explain Wooden Sword Form.”

I answered without pause.

“A level that allows you to execute from Long Sword to Thunder Sword Form using a wooden sword.”

The Sword Demon looked impressed.

“Ah… it’s like you're describing my current state. Then Energy Sword Form must be where you manipulate sword energy without the wooden sword?”

I nodded toward the perceptive man.

The Sword Demon furrowed his brow and muttered,

“So Wooden Sword Form isn’t the final step… Was this sword art created by someone who was once the greatest in the world?”

“I’m not sure. It’s said to be Gu Yang Muguk’s sword art, but I’ve never heard the name before.”

The Sword Demon nodded.

“Sounds like some long-lost master. I’ll ask the Alliance Leader about it later. If I learn anything useful, I’ll let you know.”

After hearing that, I nodded as well. The Alliance Leader probably knew. Their organization keeps meticulous records.

I realized I wasn’t truly stuck at Thunder Sword Form.

This was merely a matter of inner energy.

Right now, I was cultivating internal strength by drawing on the Heavenly Pearl, so in time, I’d naturally be able to use Thunder Sword Form.

Of course, I hadn’t trained deeply in the sword in my past life, and I hadn’t often used it to channel energy, so my sword aura likely wouldn’t resemble a thunderstorm.

But the Sword Demon had made it clear—that didn’t matter.

Then I suddenly thought of a plum blossom tree.

‘If the sword aura scattered like plum blossoms instead…’

Plum blossoms and thunderstorms weren’t things to rank against each other. They just reflected the user’s nature.

In the end, if I interpreted Thunder Sword Form through my own lens, it might become Plum Blossom Sword Form. And if I combined that with the warmth of the Golden Nine Free-Wandering Method, it might become something like Plum Blossom Fragrance.

But the technique’s strength would have to rival a lightning strike to be meaningful.

Most of the conversation was between me and the Sword Demon, but the Left Guardian was also lost in thought. Since he didn’t use a sword, he was probably reinterpreting everything in terms of Ice Arts.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

At a strangely profound moment, the Sword Demon spoke.

“Junior, I haven’t used my real name in so long, it’s lost all meaning.”

I didn’t get what he meant at first—until I realized he wanted me to reveal my identity. So I told him the most important thing.

“I’m Yi Zaha, Master of Haomun.”

“Did you create Haomun yourself?”

I nodded. The Sword Demon turned to his disciple.

“From now on, don’t provoke or insult anyone from Haomun with your careless mouth. You’ll start a conflict with the Master. Especially women—be even more careful.”

The Left Guardian looked for cues before replying.

“Understood.”

The Sword Demon leaned on his hand and frankly dismissed us.

“Thanks to what you’ve told me, Master, I won’t be able to sleep tonight. I’ll enjoy brooding over it, so both you and my disciple—leave me to myself for now.”

He looked at me.

“Master, will we meet again?”

I nodded and replied,

“I imagine you and I have many more things to talk about, Senior.”

The Sword Demon, who had kept a calm expression throughout, slightly curled the corner of his lips.

“We’ll meet again.”

His tone was polite, but he wasn’t a formal man.

He rose, hands behind his back, and bid farewell to the Left Guardian as well.

“You must’ve gotten something out of this, too. Stay home quietly today. If you reek of alcohol, even Enlightenment will turn tail at your door.”

From the look of it, this was the kind of master-disciple relationship where the teacher gives broad direction and the student finds understanding on his own. That worked because the Left Guardian was already a skilled martial artist.

We were all gruff men, so our parting was curt and wordless.

But as soon as the Left Guardian and I stepped outside together, we naturally glared at each other.

The Left Guardian spoke in a low, steady tone.

“Country bumpkin, you better know how lucky you are. You got a teaching from my master.”

I replied,

“Piss-stained brat, want to test who’s really lucky?”

Just then, the Sword Demon’s heavy voice rang out from inside the house.

“I have more to say. Piss-stained brat, come back in.”

The brat, ready to stir things up again, hurried back inside.

“Yes, Master!”

Having lost my opponent, I smacked my lips a few times, then turned away. On the walk back to my lodging, I cleared the brat from my mind and reviewed the conversation I’d had with the Sword Demon.

I hadn’t obtained Ice Arts, but I felt as if I’d gained a sword instead.

In my past life, I didn’t use the sword often.

By the Sword Demon’s standards, it was probably true that I didn’t have any exceptional martial arts. If someone’s criticism stings, it usually means they’re right.

If I had to name my most confident techniques, it’d be the bizarre staff techniques handed to me by Gwangseung—the kind powered by an unbreakable conviction. But those had relied heavily on the sheer toughness of the staff.

The fact that the Sword Demon’s level felt slightly higher than mine was honestly annoying.

But since I’d only regressed recently, in terms of overall martial development speed, I was growing at an abnormal rate.

So, there was no need to rush or compare myself to others.

I purposely didn’t ask the Sword Demon about Giseongja’s remarks on the way of the chivalrous warrior.

The Sword Demon was walking a different path.

In fact, he might be walking a path that has nothing to do with the chivalrous at all. That’s why I thought of him as one of the pillars of the demonic path.

A man uninterested in justice or righteousness—solely pursuing martial strength.

That, I thought, might be the true form of the ancient demonic path.

And as for the “path” itself—who can define where it starts and ends?

If a man like the Sword Demon calls himself part of the demonic path, then that’s what he is.

As for me...

What really stuck with me was when he said he fought the Cult Leader just to determine who the real demonic master was. It wasn’t until I met the Sword Demon in person that I finally understood what that meant.

A man—should at least be that much.

That thought churned restlessly in my chest.

***

The Sword Demon let out a sigh from the bench.

“Disciple.”

“Yes, Master.”

“It was my mistake to let you both leave at once. I called you back because I figured another brawl was coming.”

The Left Guardian nodded with a conflicted expression.

“Honestly, it probably would’ve happened.”

“Mongrang.”

“Yes, Master. Speak.”

“I’m a private and selfish man. Dedicating my time to someone isn’t something I do easily. For someone like you, who’s naturally sociable, that might be hard to understand.”

“That’s not true. I understand.”

“Have you lost interest in your training lately?”

“It feels like I’ve hit a wall, so yes, I suppose so.”

“Hitting a wall while training is something every martial artist experiences.”

“I imagine it is.”

“How you overcome that wall—how you face the problem and find a solution—that’s what the people of Jianghu call 'five-star aptitude.' Many mistake it for quick learning of martial techniques, but that’s not what it is. Genius memory, analysis, comprehension, retention—those are just signs of intelligence. Gifts from your parents. But five-star aptitude… is something else entirely.”

“……”

“Don’t drink, stay away from women, do this, don’t do that... I’ve told you all these things. But when I see the Haomun Master, a man your age growing stronger without a teacher, what do you think I feel? You were praised as a genius since childhood. But are you really more gifted than Yi Zaha?”

“I don’t know about gifted.”

“You heard what he said earlier. That boy is wandering around trying to create a new martial art. I don’t know what Haomun really is, but his goal is clearly martial arts. Once he’s fully prepared, he’ll go to kill the Cult Leader. He knows it won’t be easy. Do you remember what he said?”

“Yes.”

“What was it?”

‘He said the important thing is harboring killing intent toward the one who must die.’

“You train while embracing women. He trains while embracing killing intent. One year passes, two years pass, and the next time you’re standing at the gate arguing with him, trading sharp words—will you still be able to face the Haomun Master as confidently as now?”

The Left Guardian sat quietly, his expression subdued.

“……”

“Disciple, look far ahead. This isn’t wordplay—I’m telling you to think seriously about the future coming your way. If the man who tricked you with a laxative becomes far stronger than you… how will you live with that shame? You, once called a genius—can you endure that humiliation? That bastard showing up before you now is a blessing. Jianghu has always worked that way. You need a rival to grow stronger.”

“Yes.”

“You’re someone who grows strong easily thanks to five-star aptitude. That’s your gift.”

“Yes.”

“But if Yi Zaha defeats you, what good is that aptitude? You’re a young man, and yet I nearly sighed several times watching how cautious you were throughout your conversation with him, as if trying to hide your inner fire. Where do you think you learned that caution from? Go home and reflect. Think of how you’ll defeat Yi Zaha a year from now. Two or three years from now. What method will allow you to overcome his reckless killing intent? In the end, that resolve—that mindset—is what five-star aptitude really is.”

The Left Guardian stepped down from the bench and bowed deeply to the Sword Demon.

“I’ll reflect on it thoroughly, Master.”

“I’ll be entering meditation for a few days in search of insight, so take note of that.”

“Yes, Master.”

“From what I can tell, that boy’s suppressing a kind of madness. Don’t fight him lightly. If you call him a country bumpkin, he’ll call you a piss-stained brat. If you call him Master, you might—might—get a 'senior' in return. He’s got a foul temper. You don’t poke a mad dog. He wants to kill the Cult Leader—so consider him, broadly speaking, an ally and a rival. And really, how many people in this world can you and I have deep conversations with? Don’t treat him lightly.”

“Yes. As expected, the answer is not to poke the mad dog.”

“Exactly. And if you keep calling Yi Zaha a mad dog, he’ll start calling you a horny mutt. Now get out.”

The disciple, thoroughly beaten to the end, bowed his head deeply with a tearful expression.

“Master, your unworthy disciple will take his leave.”

The Sword Demon nodded with a solemn expression.

“Good. As long as you understand.”

The disciple staggered as he stood, then walked toward the gate like a defeated soldier. Behind him, his master’s sigh echoed through the courtyard like a sword—once more piercing the disciple’s heart.