The Return of the Crazy Demon-Chapter 254: Among the Hundred Schools of Thought

I had no intention of heading straight back, so I made my way toward a nearby inn. On the way, I noticed something odd—many of the martial artists I passed seemed to be more skilled than the disciples training at Woonhyang Sect. It left me slightly confused.

The Drunk asked me,

"Why?"

I came to a halt and stared silently at the back of a man walking away.

"It's nothing."

There was a vague sense of unease, though I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. Some of those so-called merchants didn’t look like merchants at all, so I took mental note of a few of their faces.

Once we were seated at an outside table and ordered some drinks, the Drunk carefully opened a box and checked the silver coins inside.

"All intact."

The reason I left Woonhyang Sect quietly was because Sect Master Yeo Un-byeok remained courteous until the end.

He had both manners and skill. There was no reason for a martial master of his level to be working under Yongmyeong the First Sword of Dragon Gate. That alone made him suspicious.

I gathered the new information I had learned about the Scholar faction and explained it to the others.

After listening, the Lecher crossed his arms and said,

"...So you're saying there are more experts on the level of the White-Robed Scholar. And that even among themselves, the Scholars operate in competition or opposition?"

"Rather than competition or opposition, I’d say ‘independent’ is a more accurate term."

The Lecher asked,

"Could they be enemies of the martial world?"

I shook my head.

"I don’t know."

We went silent as Jomsoi arrived with the drinks and food.

Then, a strange thought crossed my mind.

If the Demonic Cult and the Scholars were to clash, whose side should I take?

Would staying out of it be the right move?

Suddenly, a single word came to mind.

‘Localized warfare.’

If the Scholar faction had secretly embedded itself in both the orthodox and demonic sides of Jianghu, and if they had clashed with the Cult in my past life...

Then that too would have been a localized war.

Jianghu had always been full of incidents and conflicts. But if "localized war" meant the Cult Leader versus the Scholar faction, then the Jianghu of my past life had really been split between those two sides. Once the Beggars' Sect Leader disappeared and the Martial Alliance lost power, there probably wasn’t much the so-called righteous alliance could do.

Could it be that the undercurrents of Jianghu were fiercer than I’d thought?

Calling it an undercurrent was a polite way of saying it was a struggle for supremacy. In that fight, even one of the Three Calamities—the Beggars’ Sect Leader—fell.

I sniffed the alcohol the Drunk poured for me, then set it back down.

After checking for poison, the Drunk flicked the wine off the silver needle and said,

"Drink it. Should we head back?"

I nodded.

"Let’s head back for now. Training comes first. I also need to—"

I trailed off.

The Drunk and the Lecher both turned their heads toward the street.

Just as we’d decided to retreat, Sect Master Yeo Un-byeok appeared—alone.

He came from the direction we had, and I could see passersby stepping aside for him.

As he approached our table, his hands behind his back, he spoke.

"I had a feeling you'd be nearby. Mind if I join you?"

I pulled out the empty chair beside me and nodded.

"Go ahead."

The table was small, and with four of us gathered around it, it was quite cramped. Cramped enough that if someone released their internal energy, our palms would practically collide.

The Drunk picked up the wine bottle.

"Here."

Yeo Un-byeok nodded and extended an empty cup. He accepted the drink with one hand while keeping his eyes on us.

"..."

We each raised our cups. There was no toast, no greetings—just silent drinking.

It felt like someone might die mid-sip.

After setting down his cup, Yeo Un-byeok spoke.

"You three are sharp. That makes it hard to know what to say."

The Lecher asked bluntly,

"Who are you really? Not trying to insult Woonhyang Sect, but your skill is far beyond what a sect master should have."

Yeo Un-byeok looked at him.

"Master Mong, such questions don’t really help conversation."

The Drunk added,

"There are many experts who don't want their names known, even in the orthodox world. But if you’re with the demonic side, then we’ll have a bit of a problem."

Yeo Un-byeok replied again,

"How can one divide Jianghu into just the orthodox, unorthodox, and demonic paths? Surely, it’s more complicated than that."

I asked him,

"...Why did you follow us?"

He answered,

"Impulsively. I felt uneasy."

"What made you uneasy?"

Then he said something unexpected.

"I heard you’re impatient, but watching you just walk away was surprising."

"Huh. According to Jianghu rumors, I’ve become the Hot-Headed Man now, have I?"

The Drunk and the Lecher grimaced at my nonsense.

Yeo Un-byeok said,

"Rumors and reality often differ."

Since I still didn’t know exactly who he was, I figured it was best to throw something wild out there.

"Master Yeo, what’s your connection to the Scholar Cheonak?"

His eyes shifted ever so slightly. His brow furrowed for a split second before returning to normal.

That kind of reaction can’t be faked. It’s instinctive.

That confirmed my suspicion.

A ridiculous question followed by a direct hit—he didn’t have time to brace for it. Which means this guy’s part of the Scholar faction.

Yeo Un-byeok muttered,

"Quite the ambush. I’d heard you were clever, but frankly, you’re just wildly unpredictable."

"I get that a lot."

I tried to gauge his strength. I was confident I wouldn’t die, but if we ended up in a three-on-one, the Drunk or the Lecher might get hurt.

Right now, both of them were beneath Yeo Un-byeok in power.

I spoke up first.

"Since we’re caught, let’s just talk openly now."

"..."

"The White-Robed Scholar, the Scholar Cheonak, and the Blind Scholar attacked the Beggars’ Sect Leader. Maybe you already knew, but I figured it was worth sharing."

Yeo Un-byeok looked at me.

"What happened?"

"You didn’t hear?"

"I did. But one can’t believe everything they hear. How can I trust what I haven’t seen with my own eyes?"

"Cautious. Don’t you think three-on-one is ★ 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 ★ a bit much? Especially against a member of the Three Calamities. They even manipulated the Sect Leader’s disciple to betray him, lured out his heart demon, and struck together to finish him off. So what do you think? You think he survived?"

Yeo Un-byeok answered,

"If he did, he’d be gravely wounded. Saying that now makes me realize I fell for your setup. But no matter."

I nodded.

"Doesn’t matter to me either. If you don’t like what I said, we can settle it with a duel."

He nodded too.

"Fine."

"Your assumption was wrong, though. The Beggars’ Sect Leader survived without a scratch. And the Blind Scholar? I killed him."

"Are you sure?"

"I’m sure."

I didn’t miss Yeo Un-byeok’s expression as I spoke.

He tilted his head.

"Doesn’t sound like a lie, but it’s still hard to believe."

Come to think of it, the White-Robed Scholar did join the Martial Alliance. So a Scholar hiding inside a small orthodox sect isn’t that surprising.

I answered flatly.

"That’s how it went. If you were close with him, I won’t say sorry—but I do regret it. Not enough to die over it, though."

Yeo Un-byeok chuckled.

"That’s fair. You’re as arrogant as the rumors say. Mind telling me how he died? With your current skill, I imagine you struggled. Not an insult—just that he had a lot of subordinates."

"You want an expensive story for free?"

So now I’d dangled a juicy tale in front of someone I wasn’t sure was friend or foe. If he didn’t care, he’d attack. If he was curious, he’d hold back.

Stories are powerful like that. Only I could tell how the Blind Scholar died.

Yeo Un-byeok fell into deep thought.

He was probably picturing a fight between me and the Blind Scholar. I let him dwell on it—he didn’t find any major inconsistencies.

After a while, he looked up and said,

"I still don’t get it. His subordinates were competent."

"Master Yeo."

"Speak."

"No one can know everything in the world. Not you, not me. Not even Mongrang or Master Yukhap here."

"True enough."

After sorting my thoughts, I said,

"Let’s do this. If you're an enemy of the Cult, let’s not dig into each other’s secrets today. Let’s just share a drink and go our separate ways. I haven’t fully sorted out how I feel about the Scholar faction yet."

For the first time, Yeo Un-byeok smiled.

"Arrogant, aren’t you?"

The Lecher nodded, and the Drunk agreed.

"Indeed."

"True."

Yeo Un-byeok slowly looked at the three of us while still holding his empty cup.

"So all three of you are enemies of the Demonic Cult?"

The Drunk answered,

"Who in Jianghu isn’t?"

The Lecher sighed.

"I’m the second son of the Dreaming Winds Clan."

Yeo Un-byeok stared at us for a long time. Then he let go of the cup in his hand.

The cup crumbled into dust—no sound, just disintegration.

I glanced at Jomsoi.

"Bring me another cup."

"Yes, sir."

When Jomsoi returned with a new one, I pointed at Yeo Un-byeok.

"This guy turned his cup into powder."

Jomsoi looked flustered.

"Ah... it’s fine, really."

"What’s fine about it?"

Blushing, Jomsoi bowed and scurried off.

Yeo Un-byeok said,

"As you can see, I may be weak in power, but I am still the sect master of Woonhyang, a group that works with the orthodox side. Of course I’m an enemy of the Demonic Cult. I even hold a personal grudge against one of their experts."

I asked,

"Who? The Cult Leader?"

He replied,

"Blood-Scented Right Historian."

That was another title for the Right Guardian.

Strangely enough, the name ‘Woonhyang’ also had the character for ‘scent’ in it.

I asked bluntly,

"Are you weaker than the Right Guardian?"

"Have you seen him yourself?"

"I haven’t."

Well, I had—back in my past life. So half a lie.

Yeo Un-byeok chuckled.

"Good. So none of us are Cult lackeys. Here’s the deal: tell me how the Blind Scholar died, and we’ll part as friends today. My identity’s blown, but a well-known Haomun leader like you won’t go blabbing."

I asked,

"Not a bad offer. But what makes you so confident you’ll let me go?"

He glanced around and snapped his fingers twice.

Instantly, everyone outside—the pedestrians, the vendors, even the inn’s customers—froze in place.

Even I was stunned by that.

Everyone around us began staring at us with cold, sharp glares.

That explained the earlier sense of unease.

They weren’t just passersby—they were all Yeo Un-byeok’s subordinates.

We scanned the crowd, checking their expressions and energy flows.

Turns out, the real fighters weren’t inside Woonhyang Sect—they were outside, blending into everyday life.

This was easily a top-tier faction among the Hundred Schools of Thought.

Yeo Un-byeok said,

"Does that add weight to my warning?"

I nodded.

"Very impressive. Got it."

He waved his hand lightly, and everyone resumed moving.

Suddenly, I remembered something.

The Hundred Schools of Thought were never a unified bunch.

Makes sense, doesn’t it?

Confucianists and Taoists are nothing alike. Mohists and Legalists have completely different ideologies. Of course the Scholars wouldn’t get along.

The problem was, I couldn’t tell which lineage any of them came from.

I asked Yeo Un-byeok,

"You really didn’t know the Blind Scholar was dead?"

"I did."

He continued,

"I heard he died by the Haomun Leader’s hand. But I didn’t believe it. I suspected it was the White-Robed Scholar’s ploy to pit us against each other. He’s always loved his schemes. I thought maybe he and Cheonak killed the Blind Scholar together."

The air turned chilly.

Yeo Un-byeok spoke with a calm voice.

"To summarize, the Blind Scholar was someone closer to me. Now here you are, casually admitting you killed him. And I just... can’t believe it, Haomun Leader."

"Wow..."

My mouth fell open.

What the hell is this?

Did the White-Robed Scholar actually confess to this guy and stir the pot?

Yeo Un-byeok grabbed the wine bottle.

"...Let me pour you one. When someone you’ve known a long time dies, it’s only natural to want to know how they died."

I accepted the drink and looked around at the crowd. I could now tell the difference between actual civilians and those pretending.

Then I turned to Yeo Un-byeok and said,

"So, you were the Juzi of the Mohists."

He stared at me.

...I know a bit about the Mohists. The Juzi is their leader—equivalent to the head of a martial sect.

And I know this because Mohists were originally artisans—just like Yeon Ja-seong.

They were workers, but also warriors.

That’s why everyone in the area around Yeo Un-byeok was practically brimming with killing intent.

Among the Hundred Schools, they were closest to Haomun in philosophy.

The Confucians had dominated, so the Mohists had long faded—just like I had in my past life. 𝕗𝐫𝐞𝕖𝕨𝐞𝗯𝚗𝕠𝘃𝐞𝚕.𝐜𝗼𝚖

It made sense that they hid under a name like Woonhyang.

Mohists oppose conquest and war by principle.

So if I could just explain why I killed his friend properly... He wouldn’t become my enemy.

But for some reason...I really didn’t feel like explaining.