We boarded the last boat and departed from Baeksado. Since the boatmen were high-level martial artists who had previously fled into the island, the boat cut through the water with exceptional speed.

We passed around some snacks and quietly watched the moonlight stretch across the lake. It felt completely different from the time we gazed at a lake before heading off to kill the First Apostle.

Im Sobaek looked at me.

“Does the Lord of the Sect have any equals among martial artists under thirty?”

What was he getting at?

If I said no, I had a feeling he’d try to arrange a match. If I said yes, he’d ask who. Truthfully, I had no intention of losing to any expert under thirty.

“Probably none.”

“Are you sure?”

“I haven’t fought them all, so I can’t be certain, but no. Could there be? Even if there is, they won’t last long.”

Im Sobaek burst out laughing.

In truth, the world of martial artists isn’t one where strength follows age. Inner energy certainly deepens with time, but with luck and circumstances, someone like me can emerge.

And I’d heard how the Beggars’ Union leader, one of the Three Talents, had gained power. Senior beggars had poured their inner energy into healing a young prodigy’s internal injuries, and combined with the leader’s natural aptitude, he ended up possessing an extraordinary level of internal strength.

The Lecher said,

“Don’t the noble families have a few?”

Im Sobaek tilted his head.

“There are a few in the noble clans, and the Fist King's disciple is about your age. I heard he's skilled enough to deserve the Fist King title already, but no one’s confirmed it. Mongrang, want to check for us?”

The Lecher made a ridiculous face.

“Even if he’s the disciple of the Fist King, do you really think that kid could stand up to me?”

“Quite the confidence. He’s actually a few years older than you.”

“Regardless, beating me with fists or palm techniques would be near impossible.”

“I thought your only talent was drinking.”

“It’s not.”

Introducing an unusual woman is one thing, but arranging fights between juniors is a specialty only a martial alliance leader could handle well. I understood what Im Sobaek was getting at, but I didn’t offer any opinions. The Lecher kept bragging, and the Alliance Leader subtly let him.

It was clear—he truly lived up to the title of Alliance Leader.

He was even nodding along to this childish fool’s boasting.

Im Sobaek continued.

“Come to think of it, the disciples and sons of various Warlords are about your age. Their masters’ reputations overshadow them, so they’re not widely known yet, but soon they’ll take center stage in Baekdo. Still, I doubt they’ll be a match for Mongrang or the Sect Lord.”

The Lecher nodded.

“That’s true.”

“They’re holed up in their own little power spheres, acting like kings of small countries. Sooner or later, someone needs to put them in their place...”

Guessing his intention, I spoke.

“Even if we meet them, we’ll avoid fatal fights, so don’t worry.”

Im Sobaek laughed.

“Worry? You think I’m worried? You’re not kids anymore. I’m not worried. Back in my day, I crossed swords with a few of those so-called Warlords too. It had to be done.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Before I became Alliance Leader, I mostly lost. But a few years later, I either went to find them again or they visited the Alliance, and I properly settled the score. That period was when my martial arts grew the most.”

We all nodded.

“There were twisted bastards, ones pretending to be magnanimous but actually obsessed with training. Some were stubborn fools who believed that only the strongest should be Alliance Leader. The Warlords I defeated in my youth kept challenging me, wanting to settle the score after one win and one loss.”

Come to think of it, I’d heard from the Sword Demon that even Im Sobaek had lost matches in his younger days, only to go back and defeat every one of his opponents later. Judging by the flow of conversation, he seemed to believe that both victory and defeat serve as fuel for growth.

If strength increases through combat, maybe sparring really is worth it. But I wondered if there even were any young experts who could handle me or the Lecher. Honestly, at our level, wouldn’t it make more sense to duel with the Warlords themselves?

Or maybe not.

I couldn’t say for sure.

Im Sobaek stared at the rippling waves and spoke.

“This desire to prove oneself to others—that’s a small flaw of Baekdo. Even I wasn’t free from it. But looking back, it’s also what makes Baekdo special. What’s the point of a martial world without competition? I haven’t retired yet, and I’d love to put those annoying Warlords in their place, but I’m only one man and too busy.”

Then he glanced at the Sword Demon.

“Luckily, you’re not the type to cling to a loss. What do you think about going up against the Warlords? In my opinion, anyone who holds a sword shouldn’t train just by staring at a wall.”

The Sword Demon nodded.

“The Warlords don’t sound bad. But my martial arts aren’t suited to non-lethal duels.”

Surprisingly, Im Sobaek rebuked him.

“Don’t make excuses. It’s not just you at a disadvantage. Baekdo’s top masters are the same. With so many eyes watching, you can’t go all-out like in a real battle or assassination. Even so, a duel holds meaning.”

“What kind?”

Im Sobaek answered.

“Winning is obviously good. But losing gives you an even greater experience. Some masters from the Sects of Evil look down on duels, but they shouldn’t. Don’t be afraid of losing. Losing to a Warlord is normal. Still, I recommend experiencing it. Yukhap, same goes for you.”

The Sword Demon smirked coldly.

“As if I’m afraid.”

Startled, I looked at Im Sobaek. He looked like a man raising the stakes at a gambling table.

The Lecher asked him,

“Alliance Leader, when is your reevaluation period?”

“It’s already passed.”

“Ah.”

I asked the Lecher,

“What’s that?”

Instead, Im Sobaek explained.

“The Alliance Leader has no official term.”

“Really?”

“That doesn’t mean no one challenges me. There are always those who try to oust me with strength. But if I accept every challenge, I can’t get any work done. So the top clans started calling it the reevaluation period. Every three or four years, a few challengers show up in an unofficial capacity. It’s how they check if I’m still fit to lead. It usually happens every three or four years, but it’s been over five now.”

I nodded.

“Ah, I see.”

Even in my previous life, the Alliance Leader had never been replaced abruptly. So it seems Im Sobaek trampled over any Warlords who challenged him.

Im Sobaek was considered above the Sword Demon and was seen by the world as the rival of the Cult Leader. His strength was regarded just below the Three Talents. Below him, people shamelessly slapped titles like Emperor or King onto themselves. In the old days, such titles would’ve been unthinkable, but now they were everywhere.

The Lecher muttered,

“There are so many Warlords in the martial world now. Even third-rate nobodies use that title.”

Im Sobaek said,

“Do you know when this trend of calling oneself a Warlord began?”

“No idea.”

He explained.

“After the royal princes of the Sima clan all died one after another.”

That meant the descendants of Sima Yi—shockingly, they’d killed each other in endless infighting.

“Starting with the Rebellion of the Eight Princes—King of Yeo’nam, King of Chu, King of Euiyang, King of Huinam, King of Jin, then the King of the East Sea, Emperor Hui, Emperor Min... A countless number of Warlords dragged the people into hell through endless civil wars and met pitiful ends. The title ‘Warlord’ lost its value.”

“Hmm.”

It felt like I was hearing the origin story of the Martial Alliance itself.

“They not only lost their dignity, but became known as power-hungry madmen. That’s when martial artists began using ‘Warlord’ as a rebellious title—Sword King, Blade King, Saber Emperor, Sword Emperor... In a way, they’re like those fallen royal princes—men who aimed for the peak and fell. They’re simply people who want to be the best in the world.”

The Lecher asked,

“How come you don’t have such a title, Alliance Leader? I ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) heard you’ve never used one. Didn’t the previous Alliance Leader go by the title ‘Sword God’?”

The Sword Demon and Ghost Demon stayed quiet, but they turned their heads with every back-and-forth.

Im Sobaek nodded and said,

“I don’t need such titles. My job is to make the title of Alliance Leader heavier, more respected, and stronger than any Warlord’s. Titles may change meaning with the times, but I believe ‘Alliance Leader’ should encompass all martial artists. No exceptions—not even the Sword King or Blade King types.”

That pride and fighting spirit seemed to be the very foundation that had kept Im Sobaek standing through so much. He was someone who added weight to the title of Alliance Leader itself.

The Sword Demon nodded approvingly and muttered,

“A fine mindset.”

As always, our big brother only admired people’s mindsets.

Im Sobaek continued.

“Still, I need to find a successor soon, and it’s not easy. Some promising youths emerge now and then, but one is too violent, another too obsessed with women. I might have to look among the Warlords’ successors. I’ll retire eventually, after all.”

Nodding along, I suddenly realized—I was the violent one.

I looked at the Lecher, avoided cursing, and turned my head.

The Ghost Demon asked,

“Do Warlords still challenge the Alliance Leader these days?”

Im Sobaek nodded and looked around at us.

“I’ve rejected quite a few already.”

When the boat reached the shore, Im Sobaek made us an offer.

“...If you four visit the Martial Alliance, I might as well finally hold that unnecessary reevaluation event.”

So that’s where this was going?

Given his earlier explanation, I quickly understood his intention. If he accepted every Warlord’s challenge, it’d become an endless waste of time.

He concluded.

“Watching duels has its value. You four facing the Warlords, or comparing your skills against their disciples—that would be meaningful. It’d be entertaining for me too.”

He provoked the Sword Demon.

“I’m curious if your skills would work on a Warlord.”

Then he poked at the Ghost Demon.

“You still need to grow. Watch a lot, think a lot.”

Finally, he looked at the Lecher and me.

“You two are itching for it, right?”

The Lecher answered simply.

“Yes.”

Since I didn’t reply, the Alliance Leader looked at me.

“What about you, Sect Lord?”

“I’ll just watch.”

“Why?”

“I have no intention of losing to those under the Late-Stage Earth Realm. But I’m not confident against the Warlords.”

“Were you always this modest?”

“So I’m saying—I’m confident I could kill them, but not confident I could win in a duel.”

Im Sobaek nodded.

“Were you always this arrogant?”

“Yes.”

“They’re not men who die easily.”

“Exactly.”

When the boat docked, the Martial Alliance members were waiting and formally greeted the Alliance Leader.

“Welcome back, Alliance Leader.”

Im Sobaek nodded from the bow and gave orders to the waiting staff.

“Special task force, well done. Make sure to hand over everything to the branch dispatchers.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The First Apostle is definitely dead, so focus on securing his assets and stabilizing the residents of Dongho.”

“Understood.”

Im Sobaek lightly leapt from the boat onto the dock. We also took to the air and, half-competing in light footwork, landed casually. Dan Hyuksan approached the Alliance Leader and asked,

“Sir, are you returning directly?”

Im Sobaek nodded.

“It’ll be more uncomfortable if I stay. I’ll head back. Also...”

He looked at us, who were just standing around.

“These four will escort me back, so no need to assign extra guards.”

“Understood.”

“I need to interrogate them.”

“Pardon? Did they cause trouble?”

Im Sobaek said flatly,

“Not that. I need to make them fight.”

Dan Hyuksan nodded like he understood the absurd statement perfectly.

“Got it.”

I exchanged glances with the Four Malefics, then looked at Im Sobaek.

He looked at us and casually ordered,

“I’m returning to the Alliance, so you four can escort me. I can’t return alone—it’d be improper for the Alliance Leader. Might run into some enemies on the way.”

“......”

What should one say at a time like this? I wasn’t his subordinate. Neither were the others. But I turned to the big brother for his decision.

The Sword Demon said,

“Let’s go.”

The Ghost Demon nodded.

“Let’s do it.”

The Lecher said to Im Sobaek,

“Sir, summon that disciple of the Fist King too. Since we’re visiting, we might as well sort out the rankings.”

Im Sobaek replied,

“If I say I’m undergoing reevaluation, all the riffraff will come running. No need to worry.”

Even if the Alliance Leader dressed it up with words, in the end, we were being invited as guests—no real excuse to refuse. I suddenly realized—he was inviting the former heroes of the past life to the Martial Alliance.

Then this thought occurred to me:

I’m a martial artist, the head of a sect. I should at least visit once, as a man of standing—not as a criminal. I finally spoke to the people who had been patiently waiting for my answer.

“Let’s go. To the Martial Alliance. We should escort the senior Alliance Leader safely.”

It might be temporary, but for now, I had become the Alliance Leader’s bodyguard.