I looked out at the front yard and thought about my past life. Were these so-called Emperors all taken down one by one in my previous life? Since Baekdo is at its strongest when united, the current martial world revolves around the Murim Alliance. But when the Emperors fight among themselves or compete with Im Sobaek, Baekdo isn’t all that formidable. When emotional fights turn into battles of pride, the Emperors don’t support each other either. Back when I was known as the Mad Demon, Baekdo was being defeated piecemeal, yet Im Sobaek led the Murim Alliance and put up a good fight. How this Emperor’s Martial Tournament ends might determine whether Baekdo preserves its strength or breaks into pieces. In truth, if these people were the kind to easily swallow their pride, they wouldn’t have been called Emperors to begin with. For better or worse, Baekdo’s strength lies in its pride—and its weakness too. But why the hell am I the one thinking about this? I let out a small sigh, but I considered it a responsibility I had to shoulder since I’d been granted the luck to live life again. After all, I was the one who pulled the Sword Demon, Ghost Demon, and Lust Demon a little more toward the light and got them all gathered here in the Murim Alliance. I might as well try changing the Emperor bastards too. Of course, I’m no Zhuge Liang—I don’t have a pouch filled with the right answers, and no brilliant schemes come to mind. As I stood there lost in thought, gazing out at the front yard... A low voice echoed out, and a swordsman in his early thirties, guided by a member of the Alliance, arrived at the entrance of Wolhwaru. “Thanks for showing me the way.” The member spoke to the man politely. “...Then please rest well.” Over a dark, weathered martial robe, the man wore a long coat that looked like it had been worn for three or four years. A pitch-black sword hung from his waist. His untended hair was nearly disheveled, and he had it tied in a ponytail at the back of his head that swung side to side as he walked. Just watching him jogged my memory. I couldn’t forget him—he looked exactly like he did the few times I’d seen him before, in that ragged outfit. ‘It’s the Blade King.’ The Blade King took a few steps forward, then lowered his gaze and stared out at the front yard. I followed the direction of his gaze to where the Lust Demon had fought Baekri Hyeok. Because the Lust Demon had mixed ice-step techniques into his footwork, the footprints were still clearly imprinted on the ground. The Blade King’s eyes followed the trail of footprints until they stopped at the spot where Baekri Hyeok had collapsed and drooled all over himself. Then, turning to me, seated on the steps, he asked, “...Looks like someone already fought. Did you see it?” “Can you tell me who?” “Baekri Hyeok, second son of the Baekri family, and Mongrang, second son of the Pungunmong clan.” The Blade King nodded. When I just nodded in response, the man came over and plopped down next to me. “So the Sword King has arrived. Anyone else?” “The Fist King is here too.” “They’re gathering one by one.” The Blade King pulled a leather pouch from his coat and took out a hefty piece of jerky. He tore it in half and offered me a piece. I didn’t bother asking what it was—I just took it and started chewing. It tasted fine, but I didn’t say so. Too much hassle. As he chewed his own piece of jerky, the Blade King said, “You might get diarrhea from that.” “Thanks for the heads-up.” “When someone gives you food, you shouldn’t just eat it without a second thought.” “As long as it’s not poison, it’s fine.” I decided to ask what I was curious about. “How did you end up here?” “I ran into a member of the Alliance by chance and heard about it. Had nothing better to do. Didn’t want to come—too much trouble—but figured I should show up at least once.” Ah, I see now. Looks guy’s sense of ‘trouble’ was contagious. Must’ve caught it when our eyes met at the entrance of Wolhwaru, like some sort of plague latched onto me. The Blade King raised one knee and rested his left arm on it. If left alone, he looked like he’d just topple over sideways and fall asleep. Then again, being in the Murim Alliance must make it easy to sleep. Sure enough, his head soon drooped and he nodded off. When I sighed, he startled awake and exhaled sharply. “You should go inside and sleep.” “I can’t do that. I came to see the Emperors... I’ve got to wait.” I looked at the Blade King and cleared my thoughts a little. Anyway, the fact that I’d once lost to this man was something that happened in a past life—not something happening now. There was no reason to let it hurt my pride anymore. Back then, I had a bit of a reputation, sure, but so did the Blade King. His was no joke either. Come to think of it, the foolish pride I criticized Baekdo for... I hadn’t escaped it myself. That’s why Im Sobaek told me not to obsess over defeat. And yet, the moment I saw the Blade King, I found myself brooding over that old loss. What a pathetic fool. “Who are you here to fight?” “You know me? You sound like you do.” The Blade King chewed his jerky and said, “Then why ask so certainly?” “You were guided to Wolhwaru, so you must be an Emperor.” “Then are you one too?” “But you’re planning to fight the Emperors?” The Blade King looked out at the front yard and asked, “For personal honor? Or to advance your martial arts? Or something else?” I glanced at him and whispered, “Just to mess with them a little. If they all challenge the Alliance Leader, he’ll be exhausted, won’t he? So I figured I’d give them some experience first.” “You’re a cheeky bastard.” “You’re one to talk.” “Only one other guy’s been this shameless lately—turns out that was you, the Haomen Lord.” “That’s me. You here for the duels?” “Just to watch. Where else would I see the Emperors fight? Gotta see how good they are.” This guy rarely interfered in the affairs of the martial world, so calling him a senior didn’t sit right with me. The Blade King was just a wanderer carrying a single sword. But come to think of it, he was also the guy who’d killed the most Demonic Cultists in the previous life. One day, he joined late and started mowing them down like weeds. In this life, I hold that title. But back then, he was the one who filled that role to a degree. He kept slaughtering cultists... There were rumors he even fought the Cult Leader. Not that he got famous for it—he got even more famous for turning tail and running. The Nameless Blade King (無名刀王) sat beside me, chewing jerky. He used to be called the Nameless Swordsman (無名刀客), but since he was guided here by the Murim Alliance, it seemed he’d shed that old moniker. A mysterious, eccentric figure from my past life... Not quite someone I could call a friend, but not a stranger either. Why did you run from the Cult Leader? That kind of question—I couldn’t ask it. That event hadn’t happened yet in this life. Well, he probably ran because he couldn’t win. There’s no need to overanalyze unlucky bastards. They’re just unlucky, that’s all. The Blade King asked me, “Ever seen the Three Calamities?” “Seriously? Who did you see?” “You’re a strange one. How do they compare to Alliance Leader Im?” “All three are above him.” He let out a long sigh. “That’s... troublesome.” Shaking his head, he asked, “Did you spot any weaknesses?” “Weaknesses, huh... Senior Divine Enlightenment is too kind—that’s his weakness. The other two have none.” “Thousand Evil listens to people, so he’s got a slight opening. The Cult Leader—none.” “So their ranking is Cult Leader, Thousand Evil, then Senior Divine Enlightenment?” “They can’t kill each other, so the ranking’s meaningless.” “As time passes, openings become weaknesses, and weaknesses hold you back. So there’s still a gap between them.” True enough. But the incident that resulted from that opening in Senior Divine Enlightenment—I’ve already resolved it. The Blade King muttered, “If I run into Thousand Evil, I’ll try talking first.” “And if it’s the Cult Leader?” And just like that, one of my past life’s lingering questions was answered. Felt kind of refreshing. “Are there rankings among the Emperors too?” “My opinion, that is?” “I don’t mind. I told you about the Three Calamities—fair trade.” “Those rankings aren’t worth much. They change constantly. Still, if I had to guess based on the current times, the top would be the Sword Saint of Kunlun. Second would be Senior Divine Spear. Both are old masters—they should hand their titles back to the martial world once they pass. We only treat them with respect because they’re old. If they actually fought, who knows? Divine Spear might be too old to even hold a spear anymore. And the Sword Saint’s holed up in Kunlun—no one knows why he still holds the title. They say he used to be something in his youth.” It had been a while since I met someone this blunt. It felt nostalgic. “Bit of a debate there. Might be good to settle the rankings during all this. But really, all of them would run if they met the Three Calamities, so what’s the point of ranking them?” “Pick one or the other.” The Blade King looked at me. “We’ll only know by fighting. How would I know?” A grumpy voice snapped from the lodging. “...You want to settle the rankings ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) now?” The Blade King snorted. “Sword King, stop eavesdropping like a rat.” I gave him a subtle scolding. “Hey, watch your mouth. He’s your senior.” The Blade King replied, “What’s senior among Emperors? Anyway, if he wants to settle the rankings, tell him to come down. You gotta take responsibility for what you say.” This guy never backs down. But then, why would someone this brave choose to flee at the sight of the Cult Leader? I decided to point that out. “You say you’ll run from the Cult Leader, yet you speak of courage and spirit.” He grabbed my shoulder. “Haomen Lord, I’m not dying that easily.” “Throwing your life away in a fight you can’t win—is that strength or martial pride? If I gain the power to face the Cult Leader, I’ll go to him myself. That’s when the real match happens. Now’s not the time. He’s trained twenty years longer than I have. I need time too for it to be a fair fight. You think he trained alone? The cult poured money, resources, and elixirs into him. The environment’s completely different. That bastard.” Suddenly, the Blade King drew the sword at his waist and asked me, When I reached for his sword, he said like he was haggling a trade, “Let me see your wooden sword. It’s a real blade pretending to be wood. Means it’s used by a killer. Lemme take a look. Don’t be sneaky and just inspect mine.” I reluctantly handed it over. Something about it felt off, but I couldn’t tell what. His weapon was a straight-bladed sword. The hilt looked so worn, I couldn’t even guess when it was made. “It doesn’t have one. That’s the name—Nameless Blade.” “Why doesn’t it have a name?” “Why name a sword made for killing? So what’s this one called?” Why was this conversation so unhinged? “The name of your sword is Wooden Sword? What a shit name.” “Nameless Blade and Wooden Sword—same difference.” The Blade King touched the blade, then infused his finger with energy and flicked the blade. Twang—the sword bent dangerously, trembling as if it’d snap. Turns out he was testing the wooden sword’s durability. Seeing whether his Nameless Blade or a finger technique could break it if we fought. So that’s why I’d felt uneasy earlier. I couldn’t take that lying down. I infused my own energy and flicked his Nameless Blade in return. THWANG! The blade shook like it was about to shatter. The Blade King flinched and shouted, “...Hey, it’s gonna break. Give it back.” We returned each other’s weapons. As he stroked his beloved sword, he said, “You’ve got a real nasty temper.” “I oughta teach you a lesson. Wanna spar? Warm up a bit?” “Let’s not draw blades.” “True. Can’t kill you.” We stood up together and walked into the yard. I spoke slowly. Mid-sentence, I grabbed my wooden sword and smacked his side from the right. The Blade King leapt back, grabbing his sword. Even with such a cheap move, he remained calm. “...You’re asking for it.” Honestly, I hadn’t planned on fighting an Emperor this soon. I thought I’d watch the duels and pick a couple fights later. But that changed now. The Emperors learned martial arts before me, and their fame touched the heights of the martial world. If I get the chance, I’ll fight every last one of them. I’ve always been good at quickly picking up others’ techniques. If I can make even one of the Emperors’ techniques my own— That, right there, is what Im Sobaek meant by the purpose of these duels. If it means growing stronger, I’ll endure countless defeats within the format of these martial contests. That mindset—I never had it in my past life. Back then, I only thought of winning no matter what. And that didn’t make me the best under heaven. I raised my wooden sword upright and emptied my mind. Erased every thought of victory or loss, wiped my mind blank. Then I sealed away all 23,460 of my tricks and faced the Blade King. Did I finally see the sword standing straight before me.