Chapter 125: The Fist Demon Extends an Invitation to the Fist King's Inn
The Fist Demon Invites to the Fist King's Inn
Chapter 125: The Fist Demon Extends an Invitation to the Fist King's Inn
As Dan Woo-sung paid minimal respects to the dead, silence lingered between him and Mad Demon.
Dan Woo-sung was lost in thought, reflecting on having slain the enemy of his past life.
Meanwhile, Mad Demon, having witnessed the deaths of Wi Ji-cheon and Yeon Ja-heun—men he could almost consider fellow disciples—found himself inevitably recalling their past.
Neither had personalities he particularly liked, but their martial talent had far surpassed their peers.
Mad Demon had once thought to himself while watching them: These two will either kill each other or die together because of their bond.
The outcome had been the latter.
However, Mad Demon had expected their deaths to be more spectacular—a grand, heart-pounding battle befitting their stature.
Like the previous Heavenly Demon, who had clashed with all Three Saints at once.
Yet both Wi Ji-cheon and Yeon Ja-heun had met their ends in overwhelming defeat at the hands of a single young man who called himself the Fist Demon.
Human expectations rarely played out as imagined.
Now that the Fist Demon's silence had ended, it was Mad Demon's turn.
He smiled.
Truthfully, time was slipping away in Mad Demon's favor. The Fist Demon had consecutively slain both the Heavenly Demon and the Sword Demon. Any rational fighter would immediately press the attack to exhaust him.
But Mad Demon was, by definition, a madman.
If he was going to stake his life on this fight, he wanted to face the Fist Demon at his peak.
Dan Woo-sung pulled the longsword from Sword Demon's abdomen, flicked it with his fingers, and snapped the blade. The Demon Sword, now reduced to an ordinary weapon, shattered effortlessly.
After tossing the broken sword before Sword Demon's corpse, Dan Woo-sung stood. Mad Demon, who had been waiting, spoke.
"I'm hungry. Let's eat before we fight. Today calls for drinks too."
Dan Woo-sung turned to look at him.
Mad Demon had waited silently while Dan Woo-sung observed the rites of death—a courtesy from a man who likely cared nothing for such customs.
"Let's go," Dan Woo-sung said.
Glancing back at where White Cat had been, he saw the now-smallened white cat lock eyes with him once before licking its lips and trotting off in another direction.
Dan Woo-sung had no intention of restraining White Cat's freedom.
Perhaps it would return after filling its belly. Like how it had tracked Mad Demon, it likely already remembered Dan Woo-sung's scent.
He believed White Cat had to choose him willingly if they were to walk together.
People were the same.
Only those who sought you out—or whom you sought—could be called true companions.
As the two men searched for an inn, a light drizzle began to fall. They walked silently through the rain before deliberately choosing a quiet establishment. Mad Demon haphazardly ordered an assortment of dishes, and Dan Woo-sung, watching silently, paid the server upfront.
Once seated across from each other, Mad Demon asked,
"Why pay first?"
Dan Woo-sung didn't answer. Instead, he placed four cups on the table.
One for Mad Demon, one for himself—and one each to the east and west, for Yeon Ja-heun and Wi Ji-cheon.
The Fist Demon had invited four guests to the Fist King's Inn.
When the server returned with drinks, he blinked at the empty cups arranged on the table. But Mad Demon's fearsome aura deterred any questions, and he retreated without a word.
As Dan Woo-sung poured wine into all four cups, Mad Demon scoffed.
"What's this? Mocking the dead?"
Dan Woo-sung ignored him and drank alone. Having completed his vengeance, he simply wanted a drink.
Resting his chin on his hand, he gazed at the wine on the table.
The dead could not drink what was poured for them, while Mad Demon—still alive—sipped with a sour expression.
While waiting for the food, Dan Woo-sung spoke.
"You have two options left. Die by my hand, or rot in prison."
Mad Demon grinned.
"If you've got the skill, just kill me. Why bother with prison? How dull. You slaughtered the Sword Demon and Heavenly Demon without hesitation."
Dan Woo-sung explained.
"That's because of Ten Thousand Demon Palace. You know where he is."
"Ah..."
Mad Demon nodded as if finally understanding. He was not a man who hid things—and he recalled how even Yeon Ja-heun, before dying, had confessed about Ten Thousand Demon Palace as if entrusting the matter to Dan Woo-sung. The admission that Yeon Ja-heun would have slain Ten Thousand Demon Palace's elders had he become a Demon God was news even to Mad Demon.
After downing a cup, Mad Demon dug into the food the server brought and spoke between bites.
"There's an order to things. You don't need to seek out Ten Thousand Demon Palace."
"Why not?"
Dan Woo-sung listened while eating.
Mad Demon, unusually solemn, replied,
"He'll show up on his own. And there are beings in this world you shouldn't provoke. Most people mention the Three Saints—even Murim Alliance Leader Yoo Jung-hong is helpless before them. But they aren't the only ones. For those in Ten Thousand Demon Palace, the elders are like that. Yeon Ja-heun believed only a Demon God could face them. The Sword Demon, Heavenly Demon, and my masters. The key is that one of these elders' disciples was the previous Heavenly Demon—and who killed him? The Three Saints joined forces to do it. Who could possibly stand against them?"
Dan Woo-sung asked,
"How many elders are there?"
Mad Demon pointed upward.
"No idea. They're holed up in libraries across higher realms, reading books. I've only seen one—seemed like he'd been traveling for a long time. Look there."
Outside, a peddler trudged through the rain with his bundle. An ordinary man.
Mad Demon watched him and said,
"That elder who loved traveling looked just like that. Utterly ordinary. You wouldn't know his true nature even if you spoke to him. Their martial prowess varies, but they all appear mundane. Because they've reached the state of Transcending Demonic Path. I remember this from childhood. That elder had returned from watching the Five Peaks Tournament. When the other elders asked about it, he said he'd write it down later. The old man was an elder who wrote travelogues."
The two paused their chopsticks to drink.
Mad Demon pointed at Dan Woo-sung.
"If Ten Thousand Demon Palace appears, deal with him alone. The elders won't intervene. No need to poke a hornet's nest. The problem is even those in Ten Thousand Demon Palace don't know all the elders. Understood?"
Dan Woo-sung nodded.
"The Five Peaks Massacre was ultimately the work of the previous Heavenly Demon, raised by those bastards. Twenty years later, a similar monster emerged. If time passes, another Demonic Path will rise—so I have no reason to stand idle."
"You madman... Even with your strength, you'd stand no chance. Not even if all Three Saints came."
"If those lunatics are so invincible, why hasn't the Demonic Path ruled the world?"
Mad Demon cackled.
"Weren't you listening? The elders don't care about ruling the world. They just practice martial arts they like, read books, enjoy hobbies, and observe people. If the Heavenly Demon causes trouble, they listen and move on."
He continued as if revealing a crucial truth.
"True evil enjoys life. They don't live stifled like the stubborn madmen of the White Path or deranged like the Black Path. The Demonic Path is just their entertainment. Oh, look how humans turn out. This one has talent—he'll grow into a Heavenly Demon. You're good with a sword—we'll raise you as the Sword Demon. Look at this one—born with madness in his eyes, so 'Mad Demon' fits. And that guy's too lustful—tsk tsk... Just hole up somewhere and live with the woman you love. Oh, and when you have time, be the Ten Thousand Demon Palace Lord. Heh heh heh... Occasionally, an elder might teach a disciple outside, but the disciple wouldn't even know their master's true identity. They're true eccentrics. That's why the martial world is vast."
This was Mad Demon's understanding of Ten Thousand Demon Palace's reality.
"They have no interest in power or fame. Even those things are trivial to them."
As Mad Demon tried to intimidate him, Dan Woo-sung shook his head.
"What you know isn't the whole truth. When was the last time you saw these elders?"
"Long ago."
"Of course they seemed like transcendent masters back then—you were weak. Now, you'd see differently. And the world can't have that many supreme experts. Everyone's abilities, efforts, and stories differ. Some might be as strong as you say, others utterly ordinary. I won't assume I understand Ten Thousand Demon Palace just from your words."
He refused to believe the Demonic Path was filled with masters surpassing the Three Saints. In his experience, that wasn't how the world worked. The pinnacle always belonged to one or two; beneath them, numbers expanded like a mountain's base. Mad Demon's words were just his opinion—not reality.
Mad Demon grinned and raised his cup.
"Think what you will."
Suddenly, his smile vanished as he set the cup down and scanned their surroundings. The atmosphere had grown heavy.
Annoyed, Mad Demon muttered,
"Quite a few experts mixed in here. Since you've been spotted, show yourselves. I want to see your faces."
When no one responded, he roared.
Only then did the White Path forces lurking in the shadows tighten their encirclement, step by step.
These were, of course, the Imperial Society's troops.
But Mad Demon, having enjoyed drinks and a hearty meal, was in high spirits. Alone, he might struggle against them—but tonight, the Fist Demon was with him.
He glanced at Dan Woo-sung as if suggesting they play another round, like when they had slaughtered Ten Thousand Demon Palace together.
Then, for the first time, Mad Demon saw Dan Woo-sung smile. Until now, his expression had been stoic, devoid of emotion—making this sudden brightness startling.
Their reasons for smiling were, of course, different.
The moment Mad Demon realized this, he demanded,
"Why are you grinning like an idiot?"
Dan Woo-sung replied,
"Didn't I say? You have two options left. Die by my hand, or go to prison. Though since this is Anhui, you'll be imprisoned by the Imperial Society, not the Murim Alliance."
Mad Demon's brow furrowed as he glanced between Dan Woo-sung and the encircling Imperial Society forces.
Two leaders stepped forward, smiling as brightly as Dan Woo-sung.
"Grand Prince, it's been too long."
It was Moo Yong-bin, family head of the Moo Yong Clan.
Dan Woo-sung stood and bowed respectfully.
"Family Head Moo Yong, it's been a while."
But the man he was truly glad to see stood beside Moo Yong-bin, fanning himself. Once greetings were exchanged, he finally spoke.
"How disappointing. If you're in Anhui, shouldn't you seek me out first? Hahaha!"
Dan Woo-sung grinned openly.
"You've crossed my mind often, Young Master Autumn Wind Falling Leaves."
Hwa Eun-wol burst into laughter.
"Hahaha!"
Dan Woo-sung gestured to the table.
"Please, join us."
As Mad Demon gaped, Dan Woo-sung poured out the wine he had set earlier. Now that his White Path friends had arrived, he would serve them personally.
When Hwa Eun-wol and Moo Yong-bin approached, Dan Woo-sung pointed at Mad Demon.
"Be careful—he's a madman. Goes by 'Mad Demon.'"
Moo Yong-bin nodded, flicking his sleeve back before sitting.
"So the murderer is here. I am Moo Yong-bin."
Hwa Eun-wol smirked and took his seat, eyeing Mad Demon.
Furious, Mad Demon spat at Dan Woo-sung,
"You were White Path all along?"
The question carried layers of meaning. Hwa Eun-wol and Moo Yong-bin laughed, assuming Dan Woo-sung had deceived Mad Demon to capture him.
Dan Woo-sung answered plainly.
"Why wouldn't I be? I'm that stubborn, mad White Path member."
Mad Demon had entered the inn of his own will—but leaving freely was no longer an option.
And so, the Mad Demon found himself trapped in the Fist King's Inn.