Is deeply moved something you say at a time ? Downgrading the Lecher from a reincarnated pervert to just some creep who lusts after women—that was my doing. It might sound the same, but it’s completely different. If that bastard really were still acting like a lecher right now, he’d have been beaten to death on the spot by the combined assault of the Fist King, the Blade King, and the Alliance Leader. Seeing him take this duel seriously, of all things, made me chuckle on the inside. You dumb bastard, you don’t even realize your fate has changed. Since the standoff between the Lecher and Yi Gun-ak dragged on, my idle thoughts did too. Then the Lecher opened his mouth first. “Yi Gun-ak, you can’t beat me in a duel. In a deathmatch, I’m not sure what would happen. But this is my conclusion. I’ll give you a chance to surrender.” “I thought you were deep in thought, but you’ve just been lost in delusion.” The Lecher turned to Alliance Leader Im Sobaek. “...Alliance Leader, if we want a proper outcome, one side has to be seriously injured. What do you say we decide victory by who falls off the stage?” Im Sobaek looked to Yi Gun-ak. “Would that be acceptable?” “He’s already been knocked off once. Shouldn’t be hard.” Im Sobaek extended his hand. “Let’s go with that.” Looks like the Lecher was playing tricks again. It reminded me just how crafty this bastard is. But even so, I couldn’t guess how he planned to knock Yi Gun-ak off the wide stage. After all, he’d been running away from the start. Yi Gun-ak approached the Lecher. “You’re relying on your light footwork—” Before he could finish, the Lecher charged in. As Yi Gun-ak’s fist flew toward the Lecher’s skull, the Lecher leaned back and parried his arm. Then their fist techniques and Golden Palm Style clashed at full speed. The Lecher moved as if deflecting Yi Gun-ak’s attacks more than directly blocking them. Each time, his filthy hands brushed Yi Gun-ak’s wrist, forearm, or fist. Only then did I realize the Lecher’s intention. He’s stacking Cold Energy. A move worthy of the Ice God himself. Yi Gun-ak had trained in the Fist King’s defensive arts, so he wouldn’t go down from ordinary blows. The Lecher seemed to be layering Cold Energy inside Yi Gun-ak’s body. But would that even work? Yi Gun-ak’s body techniques were high-level, so the plan would only work if the Lecher could avoid being grabbed until the end. If Yi Gun-ak got a grip—even once—the one flying off the stage would most likely be the Lecher. At one point, a ripping sound split the air as Yi Gun-ak’s punch barely got blocked by the Lecher’s palm, sending him flying to the edge of the stage. But the Lecher just barely managed to land one foot behind him, tapping the ground and soaring back into the air. What followed was a one-sided beatdown by Yi Gun-ak. Until now, he’d only used his hands, but once he started incorporating foot techniques, each kick he landed made the Lecher stagger. With both grappling and footwork mixed in, the Lecher was forced onto the defensive. Oddly enough, he defended mostly with his hands. He’d fall from a kick, slam the ground, and rise again. He blocked knee strikes with both hands, got pushed back, blocked fists with his palms, and when he had the chance, deflected Yi Gun-ak’s strikes with Golden Palm Style. At one point, when he crossed his arms to block a kick, the Lecher’s face went pale. As soon as I saw his expression, I asked: “Why? Feels like your forearms are about to snap?” I’d never seen someone cough up blood from purely defending before, but I had a feeling the Lecher was about to be the first. Stupid bastard’s a stubborn ox. But the Lecher had grit. His expression slowly changed to that of someone who just soiled himself, then he charged at Yi Gun-ak again. I saw Yi Gun-ak give a slight shake of the head and felt a chill. You fool, are you letting your guard down? If I’d been fighting, I wouldn’t have relaxed. But it seemed Yi Gun-ak thought the Lecher might die from his next punch, so the force behind it lacked the same weight as before. You’re gonna hold back ? Suddenly, the Lecher backed off and glared at Yi Gun-ak with a serious face. “...You bastard. Are you not taking this seriously?” “Mong Gongja, do you have a death wish?” The Blade King, who had been silent, interjected. “Gun-ak, he’s not someone who’ll die so easily. Even if this is Baek Eung-ji’s duel, your attitude isn’t right. In the martial world, you can’t survive with soft-hearted thinking like that. Whether you injure or knock him out, you do your best—that’s proper conduct. If your skills are comparable, it’s hard to avoid getting hurt.” Yi Gun-ak looked at the Blade King. The Lecher spat out a string of curses and charged forward. “You cocky little bastard—” The two clashed again. The Lecher’s hands had become fast as footwork, and the pressure from his palms struck Yi Gun-ak’s body multiple times. There wasn’t much impact, so rather than saying he landed hits, it was more accurate to say the Cold Energy had seeped in. Even when using palm techniques, the Lecher wasn’t lagging behind Yi Gun-ak in speed. Yi Gun-ak showed no signs of injury, hurling deadly punches—until he finally grabbed the Lecher by the collar with his left hand. Startled, the Lecher raised his hand to block the incoming punch. Thud! The Lecher rolled across the ground, then stood with a grimace and looked at Yi Gun-ak with a smirk. Triggered, Yi Gun-ak rushed in again—this time, some anger mixed into his movement. At close range, the Lecher suddenly spat the blood he’d been holding in his mouth. The blood sprayed directly into Yi Gun-ak’s eyes. Then, like a rat bastard, the Lecher’s palm strikes landed hard on Yi Gun-ak’s chest, shoulder, and abdomen, striking vital pressure points with finger jabs. The Lecher was so vicious, he didn’t even bother blocking the punches flying at him. He just kept stabbing with his finger techniques. Finally, Yi Gun-ak’s punch reached the Lecher’s face—and stopped as if frozen. It seemed the accumulated Cold Energy had finally taken effect and locked him up. The Lecher spat bloody saliva onto the ground, then kicked Yi Gun-ak’s ribs with his left foot. With a thwack, Yi Gun-ak went flying off the stage... And the Lecher let out a groan. He collapsed in a lopsided pose, clutching his foot. He’d clearly infused the kick with internal energy, yet he was still in pain. Im Sobaek and the Blade King turned their heads and looked at each other. “That was ridiculous.” The Lecher hobbled to his feet and asked Im Sobaek, “Alliance Leader, I won, right?” When Im Sobaek said nothing and simply stared, the Lecher slowly turned his head. Yi Gun-ak was already standing behind him with a furious expression. He’d recovered and closed the distance. Honestly, if this weren’t a duel, this would be when the real fight started. The Lecher recoiled in shock. “Whoa—what the hell? It’s over! The duel is over!” Yi Gun-ak stared at Im Sobaek in disbelief. “Gun-ak, you’ve now learned what happens when you let your guard down. Let it be. A promise is a promise.” “If you’d rushed in to stab him right after, would you even have had time to stop it?” Yi Gun-ak nodded, then looked at Im Sobaek. “I see. Alliance Leader, I lost. I never imagined he’d use a technique where he spits blood in your eyes.” Though he lost, he didn’t look like someone defeated. He barely suppressed his anger. He truly wasn’t an idiot in his past life. Even the Blade King comforted Yi Gun-ak first. “Gun-ak, there are worse bastards in the martial world. Treat this as a valuable experience.” Next to him, the pathetic victor was wiping blood off his lips. Somehow, Yi Gun-ak looked like he’d keel over if asked to duel again. But in any case, the Lecher had won. Since no one else was applauding him, I clapped lazily on my own. “Wow, truly vile. As expected of Baek Eung-ji’s Mongrang. A filthy victory, disgraceful strategy, master of dirty tricks, spit-flinging scum—a marketplace brawler like you deserves the win.” The Lecher looked at me. “I was complimenting you. Why the tantrum? You won, didn’t you?” “I won, but I don’t feel happy.” “Good. Then we’re clear.” Only then did Yi Gun-ak tilt his head back and burst out laughing. He had the voice of a tiger, so his laugh rang out thunderously. “Go rest. More kings will arrive tomorrow. If you want more experience, you’ll need proper rest.” Then he turned to the Blade King. As Im Sobaek left first, the atmosphere turned awkward. Everyone was headed to Wolhagwan. Turning my head, I noticed the Ghost Demon silently watching the duel without saying a word. I headed to Wolhagwan with him. After a short while, the Ghost Demon spoke. “He’s incredibly strong.” “Yi Gun-ak? He’s the Fist King’s disciple. Of course he’s strong. What came to mind while watching?” “I kept imagining my sword snapping over and over.” He’d seen it right. The Fist King grows stronger by seizing or breaking his opponent’s weapons. Those who lose their weapons shrink mentally. He knows all the techniques to disarm. Though the duel was between Yi Gun-ak and the Lecher, there was much to gain even for spectators. Looking back, I saw Yi Gun-ak and the Lecher trailing behind, quietly exchanging jabs like children. Not unusual for kids. Having already gone a round with the Blade King myself, I entered my room quietly and lay down. Strangely enough, I felt like Yi Gun-ak had gained more from this duel. The Lecher’s spit trick wouldn’t work again, and if Yi Gun-ak revised his strategy against Cold Energy, the Lecher would be in trouble. So it was a valuable loss. As the Blade King said, he wouldn’t be caught off guard again by someone equally sly. As I stared at the ceiling lost in thought, footsteps approached, and someone knocked. “The Alliance Leader wishes to see you.” “He should’ve called me earlier... Let’s go.” I followed the alliance member past the main building. From the way we kept heading deeper in, it seemed we were going to the Alliance Leader’s office. The guards stationed at the entrance to the Murim Leader’s Office didn’t acknowledge me or greet me at all. When we reached the office door, the alliance member announced, “I’ve brought the Lord of Haomun.” As he opened the door, he glanced at me. It was my first time seeing the office of the °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Murim Alliance Leader. It wasn’t as big as I’d imagined, nor was it filled with decorations. It was more like a sealed room designed purely for giving and receiving reports. Naturally, my gaze turned toward the wall. Several weapons were displayed, so I asked the Alliance Leader, “Do you use all of these yourself, senior?” “Does it look that way to you?” “No, I don't think so.” There were not just swords, but spears, sabers, twin blades, and even curved swords with unusual blades that seemed to have come from the western regions. Im Sobaek also looked at the weapons. “Some were gifts, some lost their owners, some were left behind by seniors after retiring. Some were d by former Alliance Leaders who lost interest after using them.” As we were looking over the weapons, someone spoke from outside. “Alliance Leader, you called for me?” When I looked toward the entrance, Gongson Wol appeared and offered a formal bow. Then he looked at me. “Lord of Haomun, it’s been a while.” I returned the greeting. “Strategist, good to see you.” Im Sobaek asked Gongson Wol, “You know that the Blade King and the Lord of Haomun had a duel, right?” “Yes, I’ve already received the report and logged it. It was recorded as a draw...” “A draw with the Blade King means the Lord of Haomun’s ranking will rise quickly, don’t you think?” Gongson Wol, not quite understanding, nodded anyway. “Delete it. The duel never happened.” “Understood. Is there a reason?” “The Lord of Haomun doesn’t want it recorded. Even if there are more duels, no need to log them. Let his ranking rise intentionally slowly.” Gongson Wol looked at me. He had that expression—What’s with this guy? He stared so openly I finally opened my mouth. “What are you staring at?” “N-no, nothing. Alliance Leader, do you have any other instructions?” As he turned back to Im Sobaek, the Alliance Leader shook his head. “Also delete the record about killing the Number One of the Evil Path in Dongho. If the Lord of Haomun’s ranking rises too quickly, report it separately. Anyone accompanying him should be treated with similarly adjusted rankings.” “Yes, sir. Understood.” Once Gongson Wol left, Im Sobaek spoke. “That should do it, yes?” He hadn’t forgotten the request I made the other day when we were counting stars. But even so, calling me here just for that, and even summoning the strategist—it was a bit much. I didn’t quite get why he went that far. “How was it, fighting the Blade King?” “He said the same. He’s a man of pride.” “When you agreed to a rematch after dinner, he said he’d have to sever one of your arms to win. Probably said it because you weren’t there to hear it.” “What did you say to that?” Im Sobaek looked at me. “...I told him if you lost an arm, it would be a huge loss for Baek Eung-ji.” Whoa now. This man... He kept pulling me one way, then the other. “It really would be a great loss.” “I think so too. I tried to lift his spirits a bit. When I asked if he was really going to go that far, he just sighed.” “So that’s what happened.” Im Sobaek suddenly fought to suppress a laugh, then took a sip of tea from the table. Something amused him, but I couldn’t tell what. “You’re a fine martial artist.” “Your consistent mindset will make you even stronger. It seems meeting women isn’t in the cards for you right now, so focus on your training.” What the hell kind of nonsense was that? But when I thought about it, he probably summoned Gongson Wol—the most beautiful person in the Alliance—just to read my reaction. “You’re a fine martial artist.” Somehow, that compliment now felt more like teasing than praise. A strange new experience. So I gave the same line back to this damn bachelor. “...You’re a fine martial artist too, Alliance Leader.” And just like that, Im Sobaek spat out his tea.