While drinking, Im Sobaek asked me how I’d been.

How I was feeling these days, what I’d been thinking, who I’d fought with...

Since we were drinking, our talk drifted into various topics.

A few times in between, the Special Unit stopped by to escort us to our lodgings, but after taking a cup offered by the Alliance Leader, they vanished somewhere.

Come to think of it, Im Sobaek was a man who listened very well to others’ stories.

He listened to the Drunk talk about revenge on behalf of the Six Harmonies Sect, and from the Lecher he heard stories about the Wind-and-Cloud Mong Family.

But not all our stories came up.

Even the Sword Demon never spoke of his personal matters to the Alliance Leader.

In a way, there are few in Jianghu who carry as many turbulent stories as the Martial Alliance Leader, and yet even Im Sobaek didn’t drag out his own tales.

No matter how much liquor flows, it’s not easy to bare everything inside.

After who knows how many rounds of drinks, I asked Im Sobaek something I’d been curious about.

"Senior Alliance Leader."

"Hm?"

"Tell me about the Six Combat Blade."

"The Six Combat Blade."

Im Sobaek muttered those words again, an unreadable expression appearing on his face.

"Six Combat Blade..."

Could a person's face change this much at just those words?

To put it bluntly, his expression was filled with regret. It seemed the Six Combat Blade carried a great deal of emotion for him. Not just me—this time even the Sword Demon looked at Im Sobaek intently, as if listening carefully.

As expected, swordsmen can never resist a tale about sword arts.

Im Sobaek asked me,

"How much do you know about the Six Combat Blade?"

"I know that the unit you led was called the Sixth Combat Division."

Im Sobaek nodded.

"The difference between a Sword Unit and a Combat Division is just in expression. Back then, if there were many who didn’t use swords, we simply called it a Combat Division. I had comrades I’d been with since youth, juniors too. Friends, and men I hated. Some followed me like a shadow, others rebelled at every turn. The Cult Leader and the Alliance Leader of the time met under a condition that limited the number of people. We were tasked with escort and miscellaneous duties. Do you know why that meeting was held?"

He looked at the Sword Demon.

The Sword Demon replied,

"To determine who was the greatest under heaven?"

"That was just the official reason."

Im Sobaek continued,

"The real purpose was a negotiation to exchange spies—those the Cult had captured from our side, and those we’d planted within theirs. But we didn’t even get the chance to bring it up. They told us outright—they’d already killed them. The Alliance Leader at the time immediately ordered a retreat. The negotiation had failed, so he decided there was nothing to gain. Even though both sides had agreed to limit their numbers, a pursuit began. While fleeing, I felt something was wrong. Why retreat? Just end it here. But after they caught up and we clashed, I realized why. The martial power of the elites the Cult Leader brought was far beyond anything we’d imagined. The Alliance Leader told us: they were masters from the old main base—don’t fight, just fall back. Do you know of them?"

The Sword Demon answered,

"The ghosts of the old base. Some were even my masters. Their martial arts are incredible, but their social skills are nonexistent. Many believed they were unfit for the position of Cult Leader. The side effects of dark arts warped their minds. You couldn’t call them sane. If those ghosts stepped in, annihilation was inevitable."

He spoke with certainty.

Im Sobaek asked,

"Tell me more about the ghosts."

"The old base... was strange. It was both a place of exile for the guilty and a training ground for martial arts. Whether exile or not, if the ghosts didn’t like you, they’d beat you to death. When an official order came down for someone to return from exile, it felt like being dragged to hell. The Cult Leader didn’t get involved in what happened there. Whether you lived or died, it didn’t matter."

Im Sobaek nodded.

"From what I recall, not all of them were mad. Some were retirees from high positions. Back then, our Alliance Leader’s title had no frills—he was simply called the Divine Sword. But while killing those ghosts, his sword broke. He killed the Cult Leader at the time too. We thought the chase ended with the Cult Leader’s death. I was escorting our critically wounded leader while retreating, but we had to keep fighting the ghosts who weren’t dead yet. It was hard to even stay conscious."

The Lecher said,

"The previous Alliance Leader must have been incredible."

Im Sobaek nodded.

"Trying to run while carrying him, men kept dying. But if I focused on the men, the Alliance Leader would’ve died. Truth is, the moment our leader killed the Cult Leader, he became the undisputed best under heaven. And that man was dying on my back."

Im Sobaek clutched ⊛ Nоvеlιght ⊛ (Read the full story) his cup, and the Lecher quietly poured him another.

After drinking, Im Sobaek said,

"My comrades urged me to get the Alliance Leader to safety. Carrying him, I asked, ‘What about you?’ I still remember what Gyeongcheon—the one always cracking jokes—said. ‘Captain, we’re not the best under heaven. You go.’ That’s when I understood how this kind of situation could break a man’s spirit. My light footwork was the fastest, so it had to be me. I wouldn’t have minded dying with them... but I had no choice. I ran with him on my back, thinking over and over, This is how the Sixth Combat Division disappears. I’m the captain, and all I’m doing is running. Just when I was about to lose my mind, the leader on my back said—"

Im Sobaek recited the words from memory:

"Sobaek, put me down. I must fight more."

He nodded and continued.

"That’s when I disobeyed an order. But that’s the kind of man he was. So I kept running. That was the right choice. I saved him—and lost the Sixth Combat Division."

Im Sobaek looked at me.

"The Six Combat Blade has no forms. No grand doctrine. It’s just a name I gave to the martial arts I learned. A name I gave to the people I won’t forget, to the memories and moments I still carry. And if those memories made me strong, then yes, my sword should be called the Six Combat Blade."

He spoke with unwavering clarity.

It was a story that couldn’t be heard without alcohol—so I drank.

As I drank, I realized something: this Six Combat Blade was akin to my own Zahashin Arts.

But it wasn’t the time to bring up my story, so I kept it to myself.

The Sword Demon nodded.

"So that’s how it was born."

He looked like he’d finally solved the mystery of what martial art had once bested him.

The Lecher asked curiously,

"Did you train really hard afterward?"

Im Sobaek smiled.

"Mongrang."

"Yes?"

"I always trained hard."

"Ah. Yes."

Suddenly, Im Sobaek looked at the Lecher and me.

"You might not believe this, but when I was your age, I was weaker than both of you. It’s not that I was strange—just that you two are... unusual."

The Lecher scratched his head.

"That’s too kind."

"It wasn’t meant as a compliment."

"Yes, sir."

Listening to the story, I asked the Alliance Leader,

"By any chance, in that pursuit force..."

"......"

"Was the current Cult Leader there?"

Im Sobaek nodded.

"Of course. He was. He lost his father, the previous Cult Leader. I lost my comrades. He entered the succession battle. We stayed in crisis mode until our leader recovered. I think that’s when people first started calling you the Sword Demon. I heard you got involved in the succession fight."

The Sword Demon nodded quietly.

"Back then, the Cult Leader was quite a cool man."

Im Sobaek asked,

"And now?"

"It seems he’s cast even that aside."

"I see."

Suddenly, Im Sobaek grabbed his sword from the table, stepped outside the inn, and turned to face us. Looking around, he said,

"I’ve tried to teach the Six Combat Blade a few times, but it’s not a sword art that can be passed on. But you can watch. If you gain anything from it, take it. This is the Six Combat Blade."

He held his sword upright and said,

"I won’t use internal energy. Just watch closely."

Was the Alliance Leader drunk?

Im Sobaek began performing the Six Combat Blade right in front of us.

Curious about how it would unfold, I fixed my posture.

At first, he moved like the head instructor of a local dojo.

Downward slashes, cuts, thrusts.

He moved from right to left like a man showing off by cutting apples tossed into the air.

Somehow, I ended up watching a live demonstration of the Alliance Leader’s swordsmanship.

Then his movements began to change—not that they became especially flashy. He ducked and slashed, struck downward, thrust, spun and cut, thrust again, struck upward. The final move was like a clean bisecting strike—he seemed to know the exact start and end point. There was nothing excessive or missing.

As he walked back to his original position, Im Sobaek asked,

"Did you see?"

We looked at each other. Complimenting it felt awkward, so we just nodded or gave a short answer.

"Yes."

In truth, it didn’t leave much of an impression.

Returning to his seat, Im Sobaek smiled faintly, as if he’d expected that reaction.

"You know I showed it slowly, right?"

The Lecher replied,

"Yes, sir."

Im Sobaek raised his sword upright again and spoke with a slightly different tone.

"This time I’ll move as if in real combat. Still without internal energy."

As soon as he finished speaking, he shot from left to right like a storm. Within that storm, all the previous slow movements were contained. Slash downward, cut, thrust, duck and slash, cut downward, thrust, spin and repeat—ending in the final bisecting strike.

A blade wind surged into the empty space ahead.

Im Sobaek looked back at us.

"Did you see?"

"Yes."

This time, it looked like just a single strike.

Watching my expression, he asked me,

"What do you think?"

Clicking my tongue, I answered honestly.

"It looked like a single sword."

"You mean it looked like one continuous attack?"

Im Sobaek nodded, then asked the Lecher,

"Mongrang?"

"I don’t really know... It just felt... too fast."

He nodded again and looked at the Drunk.

"And you?"

The Drunk replied,

"I’m not sure. It looked impressive... but I don’t understand what it means."

Im Sobaek turned to the Sword Demon.

The Sword Demon frowned slightly and asked,

"Alliance Leader."

"Speak."

"Was that... just random swings? Against an imaginary opponent?"

Im Sobaek nodded.

"Swung it randomly. You never know how the enemy will move. So yes, it was more or less wild."

The Sword Demon asked,

"Are you saying you can maintain that from the start of a fight to the end?"

Im Sobaek shook his head.

"Not maintain. I can evolve it from start to finish—faster and stronger than what you saw now. For now, forget about internal energy. Just remember the sword art. Especially if I ever appear as your opponent—think about how you’d block it. That’s where your current training should start."

I had a thought.

Most would die to that single sword.

Anticipation and response—those two happened simultaneously in his form. Though the movements were distinct, they were combined in a single flow of expectation and strike. That’s why it looked like one sword. And that final bisecting move? It surely held the strange overlapping technique he’d once shown at the mountain lodge.

I don’t mince words, so I asked him directly.

"Senior Alliance Leader, do you have any rivals alive today?"

Returning to his seat, Im Sobaek answered,

"I do. Not many, but they exist."

"Who?"

"The Three Calamities. The Emperors. Some surviving ghosts. High-level masters I’ve never fought. Poisons. Traitors. Once you grow stronger, you too may find yourselves unsure of the outcome. The man I considered my master was mortally wounded the moment he became the greatest under heaven. What use is that title? People age. Even a body honed through deep training can be pierced by a sword. So don’t slack in your training. You are both my rivals now."

"Hm."

"I think the previous Alliance Leader truly believed he was the best. And look at what that pride brought. Now the next Cult Leader dreams of revenge, and I’m sitting here burdened by what I lost that day, carrying the title of Alliance Leader."

Im Sobaek picked up his cup.

"A hard life, one way or another."

I poured him a drink.

Then I stood and poured for the Sword Demon, the Drunk, and the Lecher.

I filled my own cup with what remained.

Late in the night, Im Sobaek offered us a final blessing.

"...It’s a relief that the second son of the Wind-and-Cloud Mong Family became this strong thanks to the Sword Demon. And the young Lord is now among the strongest of his peers. Once the old fade away, you two will have to endure the weight. Got it? Don’t go running off into some deep mountain valley. I’ll send people to drag you back."

He looked at the Drunk.

"You too—create a sect like the Six Harmonies."

We Four Great Villains raised our cups to Im Sobaek.

We didn’t need to answer.

We engraved his words in our hearts.

And poured the liquor down our throats.