The Return of the Crazy Demon-Chapter 253: The Swordsman Who Maintains Anonymity

At the Ja-Ha Guest House, the Sword Demon was immersed in training with a grim expression, and Mo Yong Baek was busy gathering herbs and devoting himself to internal energy cultivation, so I didn’t bring him.

As for Dong-su, my former monk senior... let’s not even talk about it.

From my past life, I already knew I hated traveling with monks. The ones who constantly urge you to show mercy are frustrating, but the wild monks who beat people to death on sight—well, they’re still monks at the core.

It probably started from back then.

That urge to harass anyone with a shaved head...

Three people were enough to collect the unpaid balance: myself, the Drunk, and the Lecher.

Honestly, this lineup is more comfortable.

Sometimes, when I look at the Sword Demon’s perpetually brooding expression, my breath gets caught in my throat. But since the Sword Demon wasn’t with us, there was no way to stop the Lecher’s constant grumbling.

That’s how the world works—when you gain something, you lose something.

“I can tolerate being the youngest among the Four Great Villains,” the Lecher muttered.

I nodded.

“Then how about you keep tolerating it?”

“But I can’t accept being the youngest of the Southern Six Dragons. That list doesn’t even include my master.” 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

What kind of dogshit logic is that?

I was listed on both rosters, but somehow the Lecher had excluded me in his logic.

Still, I went along for strategic reasons.

“You’re right. It’s shameless. As martial artists, we should determine rank only after testing strength.”

The Drunk agreed.

“True enough.”

“At the very least, we should settle it with a game of Go. That’s the righteous way of Jianghu, isn’t it?”

The Drunk nodded with a serious face.

“Jianghu’s principles have hit the floor. But... do you even know how to play Go?”

“Shut up. Don’t bring up Go.”

“You’re the one who brought it up.”

“It was a metaphor.”

In a serious tone, I declared the true nature of this visit to the Woonhyang Sect.

“We, who are extremely busy, are going to collect unpaid debt. But don’t think of it so simply. Think of it as going to restore the righteousness of Jianghu.”

The Lecher and the Drunk answered in unison.

“Understood.”

The moment had come for us martial relics of a past life to restore the path of Jianghu. I didn’t know why it had to be now, but it had come nonetheless.

***

We arrived at the Woonhyang Sect and took a moment to observe the front gate. It ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) was bigger than I expected. It almost felt like visiting a prestigious orthodox sect. I didn’t think Woonhyang Sect counted as one, but they definitely looked rich.

The Drunk looked at me.

“Wasn’t Woonhyang Sect part of the black path?”

“No way. All the Southern Four Dragons are white-path elites. Let’s go in.”

I knocked on the main gate of Woonhyang Sect. It swung open shortly, and a man peeked out and asked,

“Where are you from?”

“I’m Yi Zaha, Master of Haomun. Here regarding the Dragon Head Forge matter.”

“Please come in.”

The man guided the three of us. As we walked in, I saw disciples performing a synchronized sword form. One glance at the hilts they gripped was enough for me to know the swords hadn’t come from Dragon Head Forge.

There were no dragon heads.

As we passed, the disciples executing the sword form kept sneaking glances at us.

A man supervising their training shouted,

“Where are you looking while swinging your swords? Jang-il, Byeok-chun, Im Tak, Go Byeong-chan—add sandbags to your arms and legs. Anyone else who let their eyes wander without being called, strap some on yourself.”

Six or seven disciples immediately ran off somewhere and came back with sandbags wrapped around their limbs.

I made eye contact with the supervising man. He gave a polite nod and said,

“Welcome, Master.”

“A pleasure.”

Seems like he already knew I was coming. That didn’t make me feel any better. We passed through the outer and inner courtyards and were swiftly led into the reception hall. The guide said,

“Please wait a moment. I’ll go inside and report.”

“Will the sect master come out himself?”

The man answered with a stiff expression.

“It’s a sudden visit, so I’m not sure.”

There’s something uniquely unpleasant about collecting money—it always makes you feel like you’re the one groveling. This was one of those moments. Judging from the expressions on the two villains’ faces, they looked equally annoyed.

The Drunk and the Lecher sat at a table to wait while I took a look around the hall.

You can usually tell how wealthy a sect is just by glancing at a few decorations, and Woonhyang Sect clearly had money. You can also infer a sect’s history from the wall scrolls and paintings—this one didn’t seem too old.

To be honest, I’d only heard of Woonhyang Sect a few times in both this life and the last, so I didn’t know much.

These mid-tier sects are prime prey for demonic cults. Since they’re not closely tied to the Martial Alliance, cozying up to someone like Yongmun First Sword is probably the smartest way to survive.

As I suspended judgment and waited, five swordsmen from Woonhyang Sect emerged.

They lined up beneath the elevated platform, and a middle-aged man whose age was hard to guess arrived last and addressed me.

“Master Yi, you’ve come a long way. I’m Yeo Un-byeok, Master of Woonhyang Sect.”

Yeo Un-byeok offered a cupped-fist greeting first, and I returned it. He had an incredibly emotionless expression—it was hard to read anything from him.

He sat down on the platform and gestured to the swordsmen.

“Actually, my disciples were the ones who ordered the weapons, so I called them here. And these people with you are...?”

The Lecher spoke from the table.

“I am Mong Yeon of the Mong Clan.”

Yeo Un-byeok looked at him.

“You must be Young Master Mong of Baek Eung-ji. And this one... ah, a swordsman slightly older than Master of Haomun—then you must be Master of Six Harmonies, yes?”

The Drunk gave a curt nod.

“Correct.”

Yeo Un-byeok continued.

“My disciples told me that they only paid half for the weapons. I recently looked into the matter myself. There was no major issue with the arms. In fact, the quality exceeded their price. Was it two chests of silver?”

A disciple nodded to him.

“Yes, Master. The deal was for twenty-five boxes.”

“It was a clean transaction, but since Master Yi came all this way personally, the fault lies with my disciples. Bring three chests of silver for Master of Haomun. Go.”

“Yes.”

Yeo Un-byeok pointed to an empty seat.

“Master Yi, please don’t stand. Have a seat.”

It was then I realized what had been making me uncomfortable. This was the classic white-path response.

I didn’t really understand his intentions.

In any case, they’d deliberately withheld the payment so I’d come personally. I had a hunch that Yongmun First Sword might’ve asked Yeo Un-byeok to observe me.

Yeo Un-byeok spoke in a bland tone.

“The silver is in the warehouse, so it’ll take a bit. Would you like some tea in the meantime?”

“No.”

I declined and observed the disciples’ energy. They didn’t seem weak, but they weren’t extraordinary either. However, I couldn’t get a read on Yeo Un-byeok’s level at all.

What even is etiquette, anyway?

Right now, I felt like a trained mutt about to receive three silver chests. And there wasn’t even anything to call out directly—it was all done with the polite tactics of the white-path.

A case of etiquette being weaponized.

I couldn’t just go berserk like a madman, so I let out a sigh.

One of Yeo Un-byeok’s disciples, about my age, spoke to me in a flat tone.

“Why are you sighing, Master Yi?”

Though he was Yeo Un-byeok’s disciple, he was my peer in age. I just happened to be unusually young for a sect master.

I answered him,

“The reason for my sigh... well, the head of Dragon Head Forge probably already told you everything. There was no issue with the weapons’ quality. Back then, you all likely broke swords just to claim defects—on weapons crafted by someone not even skilled in martial arts. You only paid half. Yet when I come here personally, the rest of the money comes out so easily, as if nothing happened. It’s all so hollow. I’ll just take the money and leave, but I doubt the workers and master of Dragon Head Forge feel good about this. They worked hard. Not that they were appreciated.”

Another disciple abruptly cut in.

“That’s why we’re giving you more silver, aren’t we?”

The moment he said that, I felt my face flush with heat. I held back and replied.

“It’s not just about money.”

“Didn’t you come to get money?”

I let out a laugh.

“Heh.”

As the heat in the hall rose and I reached the limit of my patience...

The Lecher slammed the table and exploded.

“...You fucking bastards—what the hell is this? Are you screwing with us? Is the Woonhyang Sect collectively mocking us?”

When he began hurling curses, Yeo Un-byeok responded.

“Master Mong, your words are excessive.”

He then scolded his disciples.

“Mind your tongues. Even I found your words unpleasant.”

The disciples bowed toward him.

“Sorry, Master.”

I slipped into informal speech without realizing.

“Master Yeo.”

All the masters and disciples of Woonhyang Sect turned to look at me.

“...”

“What’s the real reason you called me here? You must’ve known I was part of Haomun when you contacted Dragon Head Forge. If you did a basic check, you’d also know I’m not someone who lets things go. Judging by how your disciples reacted at the gate, you were expecting me. Don’t hide behind courtesy and mock me—just speak your mind. That’s easier for me.”

Yeo Un-byeok answered.

“Master Yi, I understood the situation, returned the money, and extended proper courtesy. What more do you want? I admit the fault of my disciples. I won’t fault your tone, knowing it’s your usual style. Compared to the Dreaming Winds Clan, Woonhyang Sect is weak. I’ll let Young Master Mong’s vulgarity slide.”

Not all white-path sects piss me off. But this one had all the traits I despise—in both past and present life.

“This could’ve been avoided if you’d just paid Dragon Head Forge properly.”

Just then, the disciples returned from the warehouse carrying medium-sized chests filled with standard silver.

Did I really come here to collect that?

No.

One of the disciples addressed me.

“Master Yi, please take one each.”

I looked at Yeo Un-byeok.

“Master Yeo, I don’t want the money. Bring me all the weapons delivered from Dragon Head Forge. I’ll return the partial payment myself.”

Yeo Un-byeok responded.

“Why such unreasonable demands?”

“It’s not unreasonable. I simply don’t want Dragon Head Forge’s weapons to go to Woonhyang Sect. I’ll return the money—bring the weapons.”

I glanced at the Lecher and the Drunk. They both nodded.

“That’s better.”

“No point letting someone who tried to cheap out now pay full price. Master Yi can return the money, end of story.”

Yeo Un-byeok asked calmly,

“Is this the Haomun way?”

I looked at him.

“Master Yeo, do you still have sarcasm left to dish out? Go ahead. Want me to cause a scene? It’s not hard.”

His disciples simultaneously emitted killing intent as they stared at me.

I looked at them.

“Draw your swords. That’s what I want. Honestly, I prefer that over talking. When people exploit etiquette, I’d rather deal with the rude. At least they’re honest.”

Yeo Un-byeok gave a faint smile.

“How could my disciples match a Master of the Southern Six Dragons? Outwardly, we follow Yongmun First Sword. It was he who suddenly demanded a large order of weapons, so my disciples had to act. None of the weapons from Dragon Head Forge are here.”

Only then did I reflect on Yeo Un-byeok’s speech and examine his expression closely.

I now saw it—he disliked Yongmun First Sword and me alike. Since my ties with Alliance Leader Im Sobaek were known, he must’ve lumped me in with the white-path.

I asked him,

“So what you’re saying is—take the money and get lost?”

Yeo Un-byeok answered with his usual flat expression.

“I repeat, my disciples’ rudeness is acknowledged. I should apologize to the forge master, too. I’ll send a proper letter. Since this is our first meeting, shall we leave it at that?”

At that moment, the Drunk stood and grabbed the chests. He handed one to the Lecher and picked up the other two, then looked at me.

“Let’s go, Master.”

The Drunk’s eyes were particularly complicated today. The Lecher glared at Yeo Un-byeok briefly, then snorted.

“Let’s go.”

I said to Yeo Un-byeok,

“See you again, Master Yeo.”

Yeo Un-byeok nodded and gestured toward the hall.

“A pleasure to meet you, Master of Haomun, Young Master Mong, Master of Six Harmonies.”

***

We left the Woonhyang Sect and spent a moment in silence. The Lecher finally broke it.

“...Who the hell was that guy?”

Naturally, he meant Yeo Un-byeok.

The Drunk offered his conclusion.

“The disciples were ordinary, but Master Yeo’s skill is not below ours. No matter how I looked, I couldn’t gauge him—no openings. His sword’s tassel and engraving differed from the disciples’. It’s an ancient famous blade. What do you think, Master?”

I shared my thoughts.

“His name seems like an alias.”

Honestly, the name ‘clouded cliff’—Yeo Un-byeok—reminded me belatedly of the White-Robed Scholar’s study. The vast skill gap with his disciples was similar too.

The conclusion:

“...It really did feel like he only came out after hearing his disciples’ report. A swordsman maintaining anonymity. Strange, isn’t it?”

Strange... usually means dangerous.