Chapter 72 : A Good Friend, a Bad Friend

Chapter 72: A Good Friend, a Bad Friend

“Given the nature of Living Jiangshi, the sacrifices will be great. I don’t see anything wrong with lending a hand in something like that. However.”

“However?”

At the Cult Leader’s question, the Strategist replied.

“We should think about what those bastards squatting in the Northern Sea would be lacking enough to step forward and help.”

“Didn’t they once suffer badly in the past? Maybe they’re scared because of that.”

“Even if we concede a hundred times and assume they want to end things before Living Jiangshi reaches the Northern Sea because of past experience, wouldn’t the Green Forest have been more convenient than us?”

“That’s true. Those bastards have been playing patty-cake together lately.”

“That’s exactly why it’s strange. They announced that the Tang Clan—judged to possess Living Jiangshi—had joined the Unorthodox Alliance centered around the Green Forest, yet it looks like the Northern Sea Ice Palace, which joined earlier than the Tang Clan, is the one bouncing out.”

At the Strategist’s words, the Cult Leader nodded slowly and asked,

“Internal strife?”

“When people who banded together saying they’d face a powerful enemy like the Martial Alliance split apart, it’s only when irreconcilable interests clash. But the overlap between the two sides is far too small for that.”

“Well, it’s not like the Northern Sea Ice Palace would covet the Green Forest’s interests in the southern Central Plains, nor the other way around. Then is the Tang Clan the problem?”

“The Tang Clan’s interests are distant as well. They hold interests in the western part of the Central Plains.”

“Then what the hell is the reason?”

At the Cult Leader’s slightly irritated question, the Strategist answered carefully.

“If we first exclude the Tang Clan as the variable and also rule out internal discord as the cause, then why did the Northern Sea Ice Palace extend a hand to us rather than the Green Forest? What made them think we were better than the Green Forest? I gave it some serious thought.”

“And?”

At the Cult Leader’s question, the Strategist replied.

“Experts.”

“Experts?”

“Yes. Even at the peak and near-peak levels there’s a difference, but once you reach the Transformation Realm, comparison becomes impossible—and decisively, we have the Cult Leader and the Vice Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult.”

“Why would they suddenly need experts?”

“Doesn’t that mean there’s an expert they need to deal with?”

“That Ice Heaven Blade King bastard is also in the Transformation Realm, so it’s not like they’d need the Five Demons.”

“Yes. I also judged that it wasn’t a Transformation Realm issue. I suspect that an opponent requiring someone of the Cult Leader’s or the Vice Cult Leader’s caliber has appeared.”

At those words, the first thing that came to the Cult Leader’s mind was the other Four Heavenly Forces.

The Taiji Sword Emperor of Wudang was dead, and it had been over fifty years since news of the Man-Sa Calamity Emperor had vanished. So the possibilities were……

Just as the Cult Leader’s thoughts reached that point, the Blood Sword Unit Commander entered with a stiff expression.

“Cult Leader. A guest has arrived.”

“A guest? What kind of guest?”

Before the Cult Leader’s question had even finished, the one who shoved past the Blood Sword Unit Commander and barged in had a gleaming shaved head.

“It’s me.”

The moment the Cult Leader confirmed who it was, his eyes twisted sharply.

“You damned monk bastard. Why the hell are you here?”

“Why else? I came to receive alms.”

“Alms, my ass. Do you know how much we lost because of you lot, and you’re talking about alms?!”

“You’re still sulking over something from more than two hundred years ago?”

“Two hundred? Try three hundred. Is that something you can just forget?”

“You petty bastard!”

“You thick-faced Eightfold Confusion monk bastard!”

The one trading insults back and forth with the Cult Leader was dressed like a monk. The problem was that his attire wasn’t from the Central Plains.

If he wasn’t a monk of the Central Plains and yet dared to spew abuse at the Cult Leader to his face, then…!

“A-a Living Buddha!”

The startled cry came from the Strategist, but the Cult Leader snapped back at him.

“Living Buddha my ass! That bastard’s just a pure scoundrel monk!”

“Hah. You’re consistent as ever, past or present. How can someone be so ignorant without learning? How can you call a monk a bastard, a bastard?”

“If you don’t like hearing it, then don’t come, you bastard.”

“Tsk tsk. An uneducated fool.”

“And you’re so damn educated that you go around begging?”

“An uneducated fool who can’t even distinguish begging from alms!”

“That son of a—!”

As the Cult Leader sprang to his feet, the atmosphere turning rough, the Strategist stepped between him and Monk Eightfold Confusion.

“Easy, easy. Both of you, please calm down for a moment.”

At the Strategist’s words, the Cult Leader reluctantly sat back down, while Monk Eightfold Confusion snorted and turned his head away.

Looking at the two of them with a dumbfounded expression, the Strategist asked,

“You knew each other?”

“I don’t know him. Why would I know some Eightfold Confusion monk bastard like that?”

“My words exactly. Why would I know an uneducated brute like you?”

“He called me uneducated again!”

The Cult Leader roared as he rose once more, his momentum fierce.

As the Strategist, startled, instinctively stepped back and then tried to intervene again, the Blood Sword Unit Commander grabbed him.

“But……”

“It’s just a greeting between the two of them.”

“You knew the two of them were acquainted?”

“It’s an old connection. About fifty years ago, I believe? Back when the Cult Leader was still the Young Cult Leader.”

Come to think of it, the Blood Sword Unit Commander was quite old himself. He always looked like he was in his mid-forties, so it slipped my mind, but he was already approaching eighty.

Then again, the Cult Leader, who looked even younger than the Blood Sword Unit Commander, would be ninety in a few years. A full-fledged old man.

Thinking about it, that man was truly something else. At thirty-three, he’d become friends with a twelve-year-old kid.

That twelve-year-old kid was me, the Strategist. Back then, I’d just thought he was a same-aged friend who looked older.

Looking back on it, he really was immature.

Ah! Not me—the Cult Leader, that is. How did he mesh so perfectly with a twelve-year-old?

Thanks to that, I ended up having my ankle grabbed by an uncle-aged bosom friend and became a Strategist for a martial sect I had no destiny with.

Perhaps, as the Iron Demon said, all of it had been the Cult Leader’s scheme from the start.

That he’d recognized my potential from the moment I was a sprout.

Ah! Not that he’d known from childhood that I’d become a Grand Scholar of the Hanlin Academy—but that he’d foreseen he could suck the marrow out of my spine later on.

I couldn’t entirely deny it……

Still, to me, he had been quite a grateful friend.

Like everyone who held office, how could I not have faced crises on my way up to Imperial Grand Scholar?

I’d gone through prison, and I’d been exiled.

Throughout all that time, it was the Cult Leader who had tenderly looked after my aging parents, and whether I was in prison or exiled a thousand li away, the only one who would casually show up with a bottle of liquor and tell me news of my parents was him.

How else could it be that, when my parents passed away, they clasped the Cult Leader’s hand tightly into mine and said that even if the whole world became your enemy, with one good friend you had nothing to fear?

To be honest, that was why I came to the Bright Cult.

I didn’t care if other scholars wasted away or died off within the Bright Cult.

Frankly, while serving in office, I’d done far worse things than that.

Still, because a friend was needed—because even if the whole world became one’s enemy, that single friend would be enough—the Bright Cult was a place that had followed me because I was needed.

Come to think of it, before I entered the Bright Cult, I didn’t really know what the Cult Leader had been doing with his life.

The only thing I knew was what the Cult Leader constantly muttered like a verbal tic……

“Back then, I was running myself ragged raising the Vice Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult…….”

“The Vice Cult Leader joined the cult shortly after that. The Cult Leader brought him in right after returning from his travels through the martial world.”

“They say the training was brutal…….”

“He had already broken through the Transformation Realm and entered the Manifestation Realm—what hardship could that be……? Not being able to drink, not being able to go out and have fun, that must have been the hard part.”

“I heard there were more than a few times when the former Cult Leader’s harsh training put his life in immediate danger…….”

“Well, I do recall a few times when he got smashed after being caught secretly stealing and drinking the former Cult Leader’s treasured liquor.”

“Hmmm…….”

The Blood Sword Unit Commander glanced at me as I clenched my teeth and let out a low groan.

“To be honest, even bringing in the Vice Cult Leader wrapped in swaddling clothes was all part of the former Cult Leader’s attempt to screw over the current Cult Leader. He dumped the child on a disciple nearing fifty and didn’t even look back.”

It meant that since he couldn’t get revenge through strength against a disciple who had grown to match his own skill, the former Cult Leader instead brought in a newborn and forced the responsibility onto him.

“Then he really was nothing more than a full-time nanny……?”

“That’s true. Strangely enough, the current Cult Leader devoted himself completely to caring for the Vice Cult Leader. He even quit drinking his beloved liquor, spending his days begging for milk and washing diapers.”

As I listened to the Blood Sword Unit Commander, I looked at the Cult Leader and Monk Eightfold Confusion, who were in the middle of hurling accusations at each other with fingers pointed.

Their words were coarse, but somehow—call it trust forged over a long time—something like that seeped through their exchange.

“So they’re friends.”

At my faintly bitter remark, the Blood Sword Unit Commander shook his head.

“Friends, my ass. They’re enemies. Enemies who once tried to kill each other.”

My eyes widened at that. And yet, despite that, they were being left alone like this.

“Th-then you should stop them!”

As I panicked and tried to jump in, the Blood Sword Unit Commander grabbed me again.

“They won’t fight. After clashing to the death more than a dozen times, they settled it as a draw.”

“When was that?”

“About fifty years ago.”

At the Blood Sword Unit Commander’s indifferent reply, I asked,

“And after that……?”

“As far as I know, they never met again. The Cult Leader was always busy, and Monk Eightfold Confusion inherited the Potala Palace.”

“Doesn’t that mean that for fifty years, they never once tested whose strength was greater?”

“Well…….”

The Blood Sword Unit Commander stopped mid-sentence, his eyes widening.

The martial world was a place where people grew by leaps and bounds, and martial artists of the rivers and lakes changed day by day.

In fifty years, who knew how large the gap might have become.

Only belatedly did the thought strike him that one of them might want to confirm that.

I shot the Blood Sword Unit Commander a look and hurriedly stepped between the Cult Leader and Monk Eightfold Confusion.

“Alright, alright. Let’s stop now and have some tea.”

Perhaps his temper was still up, because Monk Eightfold Confusion snapped at me for interrupting.

“Who the hell are you!”

“I am the Strategist here—”

“Then stay crushed down!”

He shoved me aside and resumed his finger-pointing argument with the Cult Leader. I stared blankly at the two of them for a moment, then my eyes twisted sharply and I stepped back in.

“You said to stay out of it…….”

“I’m his friend. Anyone can see he’s a guest—is this how your household teaches manners?”

At my stiffly clattering words, Monk Eightfold Confusion stared at me blankly for a moment, then asked the Cult Leader,

“You—you have friends too?”

“Ah! That’s right, you don’t. Hahahaha! A monk bastard with not a single friend. Yeah, he’s my friend. Hahahaha!”

The Cult Leader laughed uproariously, as if it were the funniest thing in the world.

Monk Eightfold Confusion shot back,

“I—I have one too!”

“You did have one. The bastard who smashed the back of his friend’s head and then tried to ruin that friend’s entire household.”

“N-not that guy!”

At those words, the Cult Leader’s laughter gradually faded, then disappeared entirely.

There was no wavering in Monk Eightfold Confusion’s gaze as he looked at him.

“S-so it’s really true!”

“Yeah. You uneducated bastard.”

“Hmph…… Being friends with a monk bastard like you—he must be pretty deficient himself.”

“Hah. No, he’s not. He’s seriously incredible.”

“Incredible, my ass. Probably some empty-headed fool trying to ride on the monk bastard’s reputation and throw his weight around.”

“Hah! Lucky you. Your fellow disciple is an empty-headed fool.”

“What the hell are you talking about! Why is our Han Yi coming up here?!”

As the Cult Leader and Monk Eightfold Confusion sprang to their feet again, I stepped in between them once more.

“Are you saying that you are friends with our Vice Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult?”

I emphasized the word friends, and Monk Eightfold Confusion answered,

“Yeah. By the way, earlier you were acting like my equal—why are you suddenly so polite now?”

“If I’m allowed to treat you as an equal, I will.”

Monk Eightfold Confusion stared at me for a moment, then snorted.

“Hmph! You really are his friend. A penniless sentient being with a provocative look in his eyes.”

At that jab, the Cult Leader’s veins bulged.

“What do you mean he has nothing? With one word from him, you’d be burying your bones right here today.”

Meaning that with a single word from me, every martial artist of the Bright Cult—including the Cult Leader himself—would rush in.

Monk Eightfold Confusion merely puffed out his cheeks and said nothing further.

Thinking that both sides had more or less cooled down, I ordered the Blood Sword Unit martial artists stationed for guard duty to bring tea.

Watching this, Monk Eightfold Confusion asked,

“No grain wine? A guest comes, and you serve nothing but boiled grass-root water? What a nasty disposition. Reflect on yourself a bit. Practice some Sixfold Almsgiving too.”

“See? A monk talking about liquor and meat—that’s why I call him the Eightfold Confusion among monk bastards.”

At the Cult Leader’s jab, Monk Eightfold Confusion shrugged his shoulders as if to say, So what?

Seeing that, I smiled bitterly and spoke to the Blood Sword Unit member standing awkwardly nearby.

“Please prepare liquor and meat.”

When the Blood Sword Unit member bowed and left, a smile finally settled on Monk Eightfold Confusion’s face.

The Cult Leader asked him curtly,

“You didn’t come just to mooch liquor and meat. Why did you really come?”

“Sichuan is noisy.”

There was only one reason Sichuan had been in turmoil lately.

Living Jiangshi.

“What does that have to do with you?”

As a place belonging beyond the frontier, what business did the Potala Palace have meddling in Central Plains affairs?

And yet—

“Did you forget? What that bastard tried to turn the people of the Potala Palace into back then?”

“That bastard?”

“The one I once called a friend—and who met his end by your hand.”

At Monk Eightfold Confusion’s reply, the Cult Leader’s eyes widened as memories of the past resurfaced.