Would there ever be another journey this long?

Each day was filled with unfamiliar scenery and meals I had never tasted before. Sometimes, we walked until dusk. On cool nights, we walked straight through till morning.

There were days we got soaked in the early dawn rain and fled to an inn. Whenever a lake came into view, we tossed stones and played, made camp, and swam under the moonlight. After all, we were planning to fight in Dongho, so it made sense to get used to the water.

It was pleasant eating at decent taverns, but I also got used to diving into lakes, catching fish, and roasting wild animals over a fire. Our journey gradually turned into something special—like we had sliced off a part of our lives and slapped the word “travel” on it.

So then...

Am I going to kill the Number One of the Evil Path?

Or am I just enjoying the trip?

Strangely, I stopped thinking about martial arts training or circulating internal energy. The impatience was gone. The loneliness temporarily faded. Just staring at unnamed mountains and fields made the hatred recede.

We hadn’t even mapped the route properly...But we kept heading east.

Even if we hit the sea, I wouldn’t mind. We could just look at the ocean and circle back to Dongho afterward.

I gave my enemies and allies more than enough time. To figure out who’s coming to kill me. To figure out who’ll come to help me.

At some point, I stopped caring. To me, the meaning of this fight is this:

Even people who don’t know me—I want them to remember what happens in Dongho.

Why did that guy called the Lord of Haomun fight?

Why did the guy once known as Lord of Haomun try to kill the Number One of the Evil Path?

That reason—others knowing it—is what matters. Success or failure is just up to fate.

And so, I moved forward with the resolve of Jing Ke.

Thanks to the Drunk’s terrifying face and the Sword Demon’s heavy presence, there wasn’t a single person on the road who dared act disrespectfully.

If it had been just me and the Lecher, we’d probably have beaten dozens of people to death already. Even when we ran into a group from some unknown Jianghu sect, we passed each other without exchanging a single greeting—just a clear, open path ahead.

It was clear they didn’t want to fight, and we didn’t say anything either. No words. No emotions. Just walking past each other.

Will the Four Great Villains grow?

Who knows?

Still, something that had once felt suffocating gradually loosened. Only after it loosened did we realize how tightly it had gripped us. Had we not taken this journey, we wouldn’t have known how narrow our view had been.

Forty-some days passed like the wind.

And I realized—my body felt much better than before. Eating, sleeping, resting, playing—it all seemed to restore and regenerate my body.

It felt like I’d reached a new level physically. Though I hadn’t intended it... Maybe the old saying was right: doing nothing is the best way to heal.

I came to understand—that sitting in front of a wall and training isn’t the only way to get stronger.

So does that mean I’ve finally escaped the mindset of a mad monkey?

Honestly, it didn’t matter anymore whether I was a mad monkey or not.

***

Dongho was a land of strange cliffs, peculiar rocks, and twisting waterways. As soon as we arrived, I had no idea where we were supposed to go to find the Number One of the Evil Path.

Beyond the water was a rocky islet. Beyond that islet, more water. Some small boats ferried people back and forth, and it was hard to tell who was a Jianghu warrior and who was just a boatman.

Turn your head and you’d see a lake as vast as the sea. Turn the other way, and a bustling town stretched along the lakeside, looking nothing like Dongho.

What I felt immediately upon arrival was—how did someone in this vast place come to be called the Greatest Sword of Dongho?

It felt like we’d arrived in an entirely separate martial world.

The Lecher said,

“If he’s the Greatest Sword here, he might as well be a king.”

The Drunk looked around and said,

“Looks like we arrived before the proclamation posters did.”

I shook my head.

“Really? Even after we took our sweet time?”

The crowd was thick enough that our shoulders brushed past strangers. Even the Drunk’s terrifying face and the Sword Demon’s weighty aura had little effect in this sea of people. It was loud—so loud that conversations disappeared under the noise.

Food stalls, clothing vendors, street performers, barkers, locals, tourists, and god knows what else all mixed together into a chaotic street scene.

We had to adapt to this mess first.

But before the unfamiliar scenery could even settle in, a loud voice called out from somewhere.

“Lord of Haomun!”

I stopped and looked up at a building rooftop. A man I’d never seen before was glaring straight at me.

As soon as he shouted, the previously chaotic street went eerily silent.

......

So quiet it was almost impressive. Passersby stopped and stared at us. Four or five out of ten people scurried away. But plenty stayed and watched—and from windows, alleys, rooftops—I could feel killing intent.

The Lecher muttered, amazed,

“Wow... what the hell.”

We didn’t even need to say anything. Our group instinctively shifted into a cautious formation, scanning the surroundings.

Then another voice came from somewhere.

“...You finally arrived? Took you damn long enough.”

At this point, it was obvious—they had taken control of this entire district just to wait for me.

I looked around in disbelief and said,

“...Did that idiot really have this many underlings? I’m the Lord of Haomun.”

As soon as I finished speaking, weapons were drawn all around us. It was my first time hearing the sound of hundreds of blades being unsheathed at once. It was chilling.

“Wow. Fucking lunatics.”

Such brave and reckless bastards. The number of enemies glaring at us matched the gap between my intentions and the mindset of the Number One of the Evil Path.

I said # Nоvеlight # to them,

“This is absurd.”

It was so quiet that my voice rang out crystal clear.

“I said I’d settle things one-on-one with the Number One of the Evil Path. Are you all planning to die here instead?”

Laughter spread from all directions. We joined in, except for the Sword Demon.

“Hahahahaha...”

Then I spotted a man by the third-floor window raising his hand. As he dropped it—an order.

“Kill them.”

No one charged forward. Instead, throwing weapons rained down from all directions.

How the hell are we supposed to block all that?

I blasted a gust imbued with Crescent Frost Air forward. The Drunk, the Lecher, and the Sword Demon each responded with their own counterattacks.

I immediately leapt into the air and charged toward the building where the command had come from. Mid-air, I drew my wooden sword and tore through a window diagonally, landing in a spacious room. Without hesitation, I released a sword wave infused with Wood Flow Energy.

As soon as someone inside unsheathed a sword to respond, I dashed in. With a twist of my waist, I struck their lower body and then pierced the man’s throat with my wooden sword.

I realized then—he wasn’t even a real expert. I was a little surprised.

Back at the shattered window, I looked out. The silence was gone—replaced with a chorus of screams.

The Drunk was charging with his sword, The Lecher rampaging with both hands glowing white.

And the Sword Demon—he was smiling.

Like he was glad the dull routine had finally ended.

With a grin, I watched the dying men in the chaos.

“Fucking idiots...”

The moment I saw more throwing weapons flying toward me again, I jumped from the broken window back into the air. I decapitated the man who had been watching from the rooftop. Once I landed, I could see the whole battlefield.

......

Only then did the ambushers on each rooftop start rising, leaping across the buildings with light footwork. It looked bizarre—like a swarm of multicolored locusts pouring across the rooftops.

Through them, I realized the Number One of the Evil Path wasn’t some average man. Some of them wore matching black outfits—clearly from an assassin group or martial sect hired in full. I’d expected boatmen and lakefolk as his followers—guess I was wrong.

These people were drowned in killing intent. There was no reasoning with them.

For a prelude, this was brutal.

They probably didn’t think they could kill us outright—but this felt like an attempt to dominate the stage early.

I slashed through the torsos of enemies mid-leap between buildings, cutting them clean in half.

Even as their bodies fell, more throwing weapons rained down, forcing me to keep moving.

Suddenly, someone nearby tossed a sack into the air. A yellow powder exploded above us.

“Shitshow.”

To just dump poison so openly...

Those enemies who weren’t on the same side as the poison-throwers breathed it in and collapsed instantly.

Holding my breath, I dashed across rooftops, slashing limbs and torsos as I went.

Below, I heard the Lecher laughing like a maniac. He’d completely lost it.

Our enemies seemed fearless. So I responded with deliberate cruelty. I grabbed heads and hurled them off the roof, bisected people while they stood, blasted clustered groups with Flame Palm.

I had no room to retreat.

Even if my internal energy ran dry, I kept killing. Over twenty enemies fell brutally before I saw the shift—panic spreading. I chased only the ones trying to flee, severing arms. Leaving them alive—just armless—filled the battlefield with screams. Even the ones ready to die couldn’t help but flinch.

I’d forgotten about the ground entirely. All the projectiles were coming from the rooftops.

I left the battlefield below to the other three and continued cleaning up the rooftop front.

Some tried to parry my sword—those with strong internal energy. But none lasted more than a few exchanges.

Those who resisted fiercely—I crushed with raw power.

At one point, my feet began splashing.

Jumping from rooftop to rooftop, I realized I was stepping in puddles of blood. My pants and shoes were soaked crimson.

Once I’d finished slaughtering everyone on the rooftops, I rested my bloodstained foot on the ledge and looked down.

The corpses were sprawled out like grotesque fish. Some buildings had collapsed. Some bodies were frozen stiff.

From one building, a man flew horizontally and smashed into the wall across, his head bursting.

Whack!

From that spot, the Lecher emerged, drenched in blood.

The Drunk was examining his torn robe. The Sword Demon stood unscathed—no wounds, no blood, calm and composed.

How many had we killed?

Looking down from the rooftop at the three of them, I muttered,

“Fucking hell, what a start.”

The Lecher grinned through his blood-smeared face. White teeth flashing.

“They thought we’d back down from this?”

The Drunk said, unfazed,

“There were a lot.”

The Sword Demon looked up and said,

“Come down. Let’s eat.”

“Sure.”

I guess we’ll be waiting here with these corpses for the next batch. I jumped down into the pile.

Splurt—

Blood sprayed up where I landed. Didn’t mean much, but I wiped my wooden sword clean before sheathing it.

Taking a deep breath—the smell of blood and fish pierced my nose.

One hell of a stench.

If the Four Great Villains and the Number One of the Evil Path are fighting, this is the kind of stink it should make.

The Drunk said,

“No real masters here. Just hired thugs. Mostly ronin and assassins.”

The Lecher kicked a corpse away from the inn entrance and called to the Sword Demon,

“Master, this way. Let’s wet our throats first.”

I looked at the table he was about to sit at and said,

“Shitpants.”

“...What?”

“Don’t touch it.”

There were drinks and snacks on the table. Suspiciously untouched.

Despite all the taverns and restaurants nearby, I had a feeling these were meals people died mid-bite.

The Lecher grimaced.

“Poison?”

“Not drinking here.”

I was thirsty too—but the only things we’d get from this place were the smell of blood, corpses, fish, rot, and flies.

Our bodies were marked with blood and stench. We bore the brand of unwanted guests.

So, we walked on—like the uninvited we were.

As we walked together again, the Drunk looked at me.

“Still pressing forward?”

“Someone will offer us water eventually. No way everyone here’s an enemy. Let’s go.”

The Sword Demon, after taking a deep breath, stared ahead and said, “Finally feels like I can breathe again. Like...”

I picked up where he trailed off.

“...Like we’ve arrived home.”

That thrill—like every hair on my body standing up—wrapped around me in a wave of strange, familiar joy.