Chapter 73 - The Greater the Master, the Simpler the Answer

After leaving the Wind Heaven Cult Leader’s quarters, I went to see Yi An. She was still devoting herself to training, and her Heaven-Soaring Sword Art had improved by leaps and bounds.

“Yi An.”

“Yes?”

“Once you undergo the Bodily Toxin Purification Procedure, you’re free to leave whenever you like.”

“What? Why are you suddenly saying that?”

As I left the Wind Heaven Cult Leader’s quarters, thinking how ill the shackles suited the man wearing them, Yi An had suddenly come to mind. Perhaps she, too, had shackles around her ankles. After all, not every shackle was visible.

Even my determination to kill Hwa Mugi was bound by invisible shackles. The Blood Heaven Saber Demon and Single Flower Sword Supreme were also linked by shackles of hatred that were difficult to break.

Then what about Father? Perhaps he was bound to his throne just as that man was bound before the Thunderous Sound Bell, bearing the heavy responsibility of protecting the Cult on his shoulders.

“I mean that you’re free to choose your own life. You don’t have to become commander of the Ghost Shadow Squad. You could leave the Cult and spend your life traveling the Central Plains. You could live as a hidden master in some peaceful village. You don’t need to repay me for teaching you martial arts. You’ve already done more than enough for me, so you can make your choice with a clear conscience.”

Yi An listened quietly, then smiled and said, “It looks like I have no choice but to reveal another tail.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m happier by your side, Young Master, and my life is better. Traveling would only be fun for a day or two, and so would being a hidden master. Under your protection, I’m happy every day. I’m not an idiot. If I’d truly hated it here, I’m the sort of bitch who would have risked her life to run away in the night. I don’t know why you insist on thinking I’m so nice.”

I looked at her and chuckled. “How many tails do you still have hidden away?”

“About seven, perhaps?”

“Plenty, then. Get back to training.”

I was about to turn away when needless concern prompted me to add, “Still, make sure you keep at least one tail hidden.”

Life had taught me that this was every bit as important as a secret finishing move. I left, seeing the look on her face that said she knew that much without being told. Good. As long as she knew.

* * *

The Demonic Buddha came to see the Wind Heaven Cult Leader. He had come with a purpose, and it showed in his eyes from the moment he entered.

“Have you just been out killing someone? You’re brimming with killing intent for a man who follows Buddhist teachings.”

“The Buddha I serve occasionally breaks the precept against killing.”

“One moment a Buddha of Lust, the next a Buddha of Slaughter. He truly is a busy fellow.”

Rather than sit, the Demonic Buddha stood where he was and stared at the Wind Heaven Cult Leader. He was almost level with the Cult Leader, who sat with his back straight. Sensitive as he was about his height, meeting the other man’s eyes this way was a clear indication of just how angry he was.

“Listen here, Wind Heaven Cult Leader!”

“What is it?”

“How long have we known each other?”

“I don’t quite remember.”

“Exactly. We’ve known each other so long we can’t even remember, yet you would do this to me?”

“Sit down. Let’s talk sitting down.”

But he remained standing, glaring at the Wind Heaven Cult Leader. The golden light radiating from his body grew more intense.

“I never imagined you would resort to such a transparent scheme!”

“A scheme, you say?”

The Wind Heaven Cult Leader’s expression hardened, but the Demonic Buddha had come prepared for a confrontation from the start. The Single Flower Sword Supreme and Blood Heaven Saber Demon had begun approaching the other Demon Supremes to persuade them. Their responses differed depending on whether they were speaking to the Demonic Buddha or the Blood Heaven Saber Demon. Each had lived on their own terms, heedless of others’ opinions, so there was no telling whom they would listen to in the end. That was why the Demonic Buddha had come to work on the Wind Heaven Cult Leader directly.

“Enticing the Soul-Seizing Demon’s young disciple into becoming your own? Just what are you playing at?”

“I didn’t entice her. The girl came to me of her own accord.”

“Then you should have sent her back! You’re the adult here. You should have sent her back!”

“Why should I?”

“Why are you trying to become the master of a disciple of the Cult?”

“Because the martial arts the ghost sorcerers practice are the Blood Cult’s demonic arts!”

“Are you saying you belong to the Blood Cult, then? Are you serious?”

Everyone knew that the Wind Heaven Cult was the Blood Cult’s successor, but that did not mean he could mention the Blood Cult or associate himself with it. The Blood Cult had a history of waging war against the Divine Cult of the Heavenly Demon on several occasions. He had been invited strictly in his capacity as the Wind Heaven Cult Leader.

“Are you twisting my words now?”

“When you staged that theft of your sacred relic, part of me could understand. But this is something I simply cannot tolerate.”

“Staged? You come to a friend whose sacred relic was stolen and call it staged? I came here trusting you alone, only to have even my sacred relic stolen. Instead of taking responsibility, you make these absurd accusations!”

“Did you think we would believe that? The Demon Supremes aren’t fools.”

“Judging by you, they don’t seem particularly clever either.”

“What?”

“How many times in your life has anyone called you clever? Be honest.”

The Demonic Buddha’s expression stiffened. He knew very well that he was not particularly clever. Lashing out at others with cruel remarks was also a means of cowing them so he could steer the conversation to his advantage. When the Wind Heaven Cult Leader struck straight at his insecurity, the Demonic Buddha chose a harsher approach.

“Listen, my friend. You are not beyond the frontiers now.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I’m not threatening you. I’m telling you the reality. I’ve been your friend for many years, but the other Demon Supremes feel differently. I cannot know what they might do.”

“With your meager imaginations, what else could it be? They’ll put you at the forefront and try to kill me.”

“If only that were the case, we would at least have a chance to say farewell.”

A taut tension hung between them.

“Do not underestimate the Demon Supremes. They will seek to destroy you far more miserably than that.”

“You tell me not to underestimate you, so why do you underestimate me so much?”

“I don’t underestimate you. You simply have a fatal weakness.”

“A weakness?”

“If the Demon Supremes decide to eliminate you, they will not make the foolish choice of attacking you directly. Instead, they will drive a wedge between you and our Cult Leader and have him dispose of you. Could you handle him? Our Cult Leader, I mean.”

Faced with a threat involving the Heavenly Demon, the Wind Heaven Cult Leader could say nothing. The Heavenly Demon’s dislike of the Blood Cult was certainly a weakness for him.

“Pretend to search for the sacred relic for a few more days, then leave. Expel your disciple as well. I will smooth things over with the Demon Supremes.”

“And if I refuse?”

Instead of answering, the Demonic Buddha gave a derisive chuckle and walked out. Perhaps that offended him even more, for the Wind Heaven Cult Leader remained silent for a long time. At last, he spoke.

“I’ve just made up my mind.”

Looking at the shackled man before the Thunderous Sound Bell, the Wind Heaven Cult Leader ground his teeth. “I will make the Second Young Master the Heavenly Demon, no matter what.”

* * *

“What brings you here, Second Young Master?”

Chief Strategist Sima Myeong was buried in work today, as always.

“I came because I wanted to have some fun with you, Strategist. If you have time, why don’t we go to Demon Family Village together?”

Sima Myeong was startled by my suggestion. “Demon Family Village?”

“You may be the most important person in the Cult, but it won’t collapse if you slack off for one day.”

“The sad secret is that it wouldn’t collapse even if I slacked off for a year.”

“Then shall we go have fun for just two double-hours, so no one discovers your secret?”

“Very well.”

Without hesitation, Sima Myeong closed his documents and stood up. He must have guessed that I had not come merely to have fun.

“Without you here, the Orthodox Martial Alliance will invade at once.”

“You only say that because you don’t know Heaven-Reaching Pavilion. There’s a whole line of clever strategists just waiting for me to step down.”

“They’ve certainly chosen a difficult path.”

We left his office laughing. I took him to Merry Life Tavern.

“This place, just as I thought.”

That meant he knew Merry Life Tavern well. Of course, since he knew everything about me, he would naturally know all about the tavern too.

“Are you disappointed? Were you hoping we’d visit the finest courtesan house in Demon Family Village?”

The joke was a little bold, but Sima Myeong took it with a smile. “I was hoping to follow along while pretending you’d talked me into it.”

“This is why preconceptions are dangerous. I’ll make a reservation right away the next time we slack off!”

“Hahaha.”

I sat across from Sima Myeong at my usual table on the second floor of Merry Life Tavern. When Jo Chunbae came to take our order, I introduced him. “This is the Cult’s chief strategist. Say hello.”

“Oh heavens!”

Looking as though he might faint, Jo Chunbae bowed to Sima Myeong. The visits from important people had left him quite overwhelmed lately. A pavilion master, Demon Supremes, and now even the chief strategist. More than any of the others, the title of chief strategist carried a different weight.

“I have always admired you. You’re the person I respect most.”

“So the person you respect most isn’t my father?”

Jo Chunbae jumped at my teasing. “Of course not! The strategist is the person I respect second most.”

“Oh, I thought I was second.”

“That’s not what I meant. Actually, Pavilion Master, you’re the one I respect most...”

He played along, pretending to be flustered.

“I’m joking. Bring us some wine first, and please make us something delicious today.”

“Yes!”

After serving the wine, Jo Chunbae hurried to the kitchen. I poured Sima Myeong a cup.

“This is the first time we’ve had a drink alone together, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

“I should have invited you long ago. I’ve left it too late.”

“Not at all. You’ve been very busy, haven’t you?”

“You’re the busy one, Strategist. I’m always slacking off.”

“If you say that, what are the real slackers supposed to do?”

He knew better than anyone how diligently I had been running around lately. We drank while chatting about everyday matters. Sima Myeong could hold his liquor better than I had expected.

“You’re quite a drinker.”

“Certainly. In my younger days, I could drink by the bucket.”

“That’s a surprise.”

I had trouble picturing a young Sima Myeong drinking heavily.

“So, what is this about?”

Sima Myeong knew I had not come simply to have fun. I, too, went straight to the point.

“There’s something I’d like to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

“What makes a good strategist?”

The question must have surprised him, for Sima Myeong looked at me with widened eyes. Then his gaze turned to his wine cup. “I used to ask myself that question often when I was young, but I’ve forgotten about it for some time now.”

Questions like this were always difficult. What if someone asked me what made a good martial artist? What would I say? Yet Sima Myeong’s answer came immediately.

“To me, a good strategist is one who is cleverer than the opposing strategist. There’s no profound meaning behind it. Quite literally, a strategist cleverer than the enemy’s. That is my answer. There can be someone cleverer than me within the Cult. There can be someone here in this tavern. You can be cleverer than me, Second Young Master. But...”

After a brief pause, Sima Myeong continued. “I must be cleverer than the Orthodox Martial Alliance’s strategist. I must also be cleverer than the Unorthodox Alliance’s strategist. That is all I need.”

It was an answer I had never expected. As though he had anticipated my reaction, Sima Myeong smiled and asked, “A rather bland answer, isn’t it?”

“That’s why it struck home.”

“When I was younger, I would have given a different answer precisely because I thought too much. It might have been a little more pedantic, too.”

I could imagine how he felt. The older one grew, and the greater one’s mastery, the simpler the answers tended to become.

“Martial artists in the field can improvise. They can change their plans to suit the situation. But a strategist cannot. One badly devised plan can mean total annihilation. If they died because of their own choices, at least they would have fewer regrets. But how bitter would it be to die because their superiors made the wrong judgment? That’s why I always tell the younger strategists: strive desperately to become cleverer! Everything depends on it.”

This was the first time I had learned that Sima Myeong thought this way, just as it was the first time I had learned he was quite a drinker.

Sima Myeong filled my empty cup and said, “Now, it’s my turn to ask a question.”

In truth, I had not come to hear his answer about what made a good strategist. I had met with him today to hear this question.

“Why did you ask me that?”