The Return of the Crazy Demon-Novel

This is the first drinking party in fifty days.

I didn’t have time or thought to drink before today because I was busy training my martial arts. I come down from the pavilion, walk on the street, and soon see a quiet guest house. I head inside and see a lot of shabby shops on this street.

Most mountain climbers like to drink alcohol, so they typically sit together and drink.

However, the people in the guesthouse look at us, realize that we are different, and cough as they leave one after another.

I didn’t mean to kick them out, but it just happened.

The atmosphere around the Sword Demon must be daunting for them. Even though he looks like a decent man, his atmosphere must be hard to deal with.

The disciple sees this and then says to me as he drinks.

“Everyone seems to avoid this place because Lee Zaha gives the wrong impression.”

“…”

I ignore his words and drink my own cup. Then, whenever a question appears in my mind, I turn and ask the Sword Demon.

“Senior, are you staying away because of the cult?”

The Sword Demon answers.

“Not necessarily. There are those who will try to kill me wherever I am and continue to send people. I also cannot be in a place with people.”

“Why?”

The Sword Demon smiles.

“Because I am prepared to cause a lot of damage.”

Come to think of it, he is a man who killed his would-be killers and made his escape. This time, his disciple asks a question.

“Master, as you have competed against the Alliance Leader and our cult leader, can you judge who is better?”

This is a strong question and sends the Sword Demon into thought.

“Alliance Leader and cult leader…”

To be honest, I am curious about the answer as well. This is because the two of them have never fought until now.

“Since each of them have many subordinates, I wonder if they would have to deal with each other. Judging from my point of view, I think the skills of the Demonic Cult leader are higher. If we proceed with a spar, our cult leader will win.”

The disciple then asks with a surprised expression.

“If it isn’t a spar, then?”

The Sword Demon replies with a grin.

“The Alliance Leader risked his life and did many things in his life. Even the cult leader would not be able to shake off attacks made by that man. It would be difficult for the two of them to be able to live a normal life after that. Whoever won would at least lose an arm or a leg. My guess is that the two of them would be able to grasp this situation and continue to spend time and practice. Thanks to this, the Kangho can stay quiet as the balance between the two of them is just right.”

Clearly, this is a time for both sides to gather up strength.

This is also the time given to me.

I then ask about something I am curious about.

“Has senior mastered the demonic arts as well?”

The Sword Demon nods his head.

“Those who have learned martial arts in our cult since childhood starts with that. The basic principles of cultivation also change.”

I am learning the Shadow Moon Martial Arts, so what differences exist?

“Different in what way?”

“There are many cases of choosing a short way in the process of qi construction. After about thirteen years of training, mastering it will come naturally, and there is no other way to avoid the aftermath of getting it done so fast.”

The disciple then asks.

“Isn’t thirteen years too short?”

The Sword Demon nods his head.

“That is why the cult often has troubles. Normal cult members would die fighting in a mission or conflict before any physical problems appear. The average lifespan is short.”

This is an internal issue of the cult that I am not aware of. He then continues.

“The thoughts of those in power are, frankly, heartless. They do not care about the lives of the low-level members of the cult, to begin with. They are expendable and can be replaced with another. Some are smart enough to overcome the situation, survive fatal crises, and naturally rise to the top as they age. They are then recognized by the cult. Their loyalty is deepened thanks to money, women, and luxurious surroundings. They then become a somewhat useful and welcomed expendable piece.”

I smile as I pour a glass.

Surprisingly, the Sword Demon and I have similar thoughts about the Demonic Cult. The people there don’t see people as people.

The Sword Demon is aware of this. He then asks as he checks my expression.

“Why are you laughing?”

“I laughed because it felt like our thoughts were similar. Then, is the Alliance different?”

The Sword Demon nods his head.

“It is an organization that tends to follow the thoughts of the person at the top, after all. Any mob can transform into a sect. Any number of sects could also end up being run by blinded men. This is a problem of leadership and not the sect. I might not have left if the current cult leader was someone like Im Sobaek.”

I nod and then ask him.

“Were you having a hard time dealing with the cult leader?”

“My true defeat will be death. Even the cult leader cannot kill me.”

I listen to him and doubt if my guess is accurate. But his words allow me to learn some truth in what he says.

‘Is he really a man of the sword?’

This time the Sword Demon asks me.

“But you, leader, seem to have a different atmosphere. Have you learned any new martial arts?”

“Senior, how did you know? I don’t feel like anything has changed, though.”

The Sword Demon smiles.

“It is subtle.”

“Please explain.”

The Sword Demon raises his glass.

“Let us suppose that this wine glass is made by a craftsman who makes the most beautiful alcohol glasses in the world.”

I nod.

“On the other hand, let’s assume that a disciple’s glass is just an imitation of this. Ordinary drinkers could not tell the difference between the original and the copy because the shape was the same. However, the eyes of craftsmen who make glasses would be able to feel a difference. Why?”

The disciple responds.

“Isn’t it because the difference in precision is visible?”

The Sword Demon puts down his glass.

“It is the same with warriors. The three of us are not complete warriors. If a counterfeit is headed for the real thing… we would still be able to discern tiny differences. It is right if I can feel something different from our last meeting. On the other hand, my disciple is…”

The disciple’s face reddens.

“Master.”

The Sword Demon nods his head.

“It is good to be consistent.”

“Yes.”

“But the day will come when you, too, will be enlightened.”

It isn’t clear if he is joking or being serious, so I ask.

“Why so?”

The Sword Demon answers.

“Because he is the disciple I teach.”

The Sword Demon continues as his disciple becomes slightly emotional.

“Even if the cult leader dies, the cult will not disappear. It is because a lot of old members are still clinging to it. So, you need to set up the right teacher for it all. Even if you kill the current cult leader, the cult will continue to move forward. Whether the disciple becomes the leader now or someone else takes the mantle, there is one thing to do. The current leader has to die.”

The disciple could not sit straight, no matter how often he heard this.

“Master, I do not want to be a sect leader.”

“Why?”

The disciple answers.

“I just think they are all crazy. It is the fact that the logic of the world is contained in books.”

“Although I am a madman who reveals a lot to women, such books are hard to accept.”

The Sword Demon laughs as his disciple asks.

“Why are you laughing?”

The Sword Demon answers.

“They are the Demonic Cult. They are not a group of people you could convince. They rule and subjugate by force. Fanatics cannot be reasoned with but can only be killed and destroyed. It might be early now, but the day will come when you become complete.”

The Sword Demon looks at me.

“Make sure that you keep it in mind. A part of the world is already crazy from long ago.”

For a conversation in a shabby guest house, it is quite deep. We aren’t even sure if anyone is listening in or not.

Anyway, this drinking party is good for me.

I learned a little about how the Sword Demon thinks and lives. I chat with the Sword Demon about various things, such as the thoughts of scumbags and how things are changing. At the end of our drinking, I ask.

“Senior, I have a request for you.”

“Go on.”

“I don’t know who your next sparring partner is, but please call me even then.”

“I think the training time will be wrong, but I will do so.”

I look at the face of the Sword Demon. Because his expression is that of a person ready to die, I feel like he can’t imagine living for long. He must have been attacked by many warriors who attempted to kill him.

However, since I’ve crossed paths with this man, I would hate to see him die in vain. I will need to check out the shadow of death that clings to the Sword Demon.

I then have a thought out of nowhere.

‘It cannot be Gwang Sung, right?’

The timing of when Gwang Sung appeared in my past life is quite vague, so I cannot be sure. There is a period when Gwang Sung appears and makes a name by doing evil deeds, causing various accidents, and more.

In any case, it isn’t easy to kill the Sword Demon. It is possible that the cult leader dealt with him directly.

I get up after finishing our drinks. They return to their residence while I prepare to leave for the Black Rabbit Union. I then say goodbye to the pair after sharing a couple of words.

I pull out my blade as I walk the road back alone.

I can’t help but think of the Alliance Leader’s technique.

As a drunk man walking down the road is swinging the sword, the vendors I pass end up panicking and moving back when they see me.

I knew it. It’s impossible for me to understand it.

When he used it, it looked like an extremely difficult technique. It isn’t a simple sword technique that others can copy by just looking at it.

But as I keep swinging my sword down this quiet road, it is fun to see the blade change colors. Another woman walking down the street runs away screaming when she sees me.

“Ah…”

Is this world telling me that I cannot practice as I please?

Wasn’t this too much?

I think I’ve done enough to scare people away, so I sheathe the sword back and practice with my bare hands.

As I walk back while moving, people occasionally still scream. They look scared, and even I am becoming scared after seeing their faces.

This is why I always feel like crazy people are more comfortable.

All of a sudden, my left hand is wrapped in fire, and my right is encased in ice. I then perform my moves using both.

After a few repetitions…

It feels so frightening that I have to restrain myself.

A man who does not cross the line, that is me.

I walk down the mountain road, the busy street, and then the quiet roads. Then, while heading back, I look at the lake.

“Peace is like a lake to me.”

I carefully search for a flat thin stone to bounce on the water and watch as the wild geese begin to flock to me.

“…”

The flock of geese coming to me suddenly moves away from the shore. As they move away, some humans who aren’t afraid of me have gathered behind me.

I cross my arms without turning back.

“Who dares to disturb my time of peace?”

“…”

They seem to have enough killing intent to scare the geese away. So why didn’t they attack and surround me?

I turn around in curiosity.