Chapter 200 : The Vice Cult Leader’s Assignment

On ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍the way back after withdrawing from Tibet, I gathered twelve Possessed Martial Artists.

“Since ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍the agreement has been honored, you are now free. Of course, the promise that you will not commit evil deeds still stands. And the agreement that if you break it, I will find you and punish you in the worst possible way will also be upheld.”

At ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍my words, joy spread across the faces of the twelve Possessed Martial Artists.

Though ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍it bothered me that, for a fleeting moment, greed and killing intent flickered in their eyes, a promise was a promise.

“You ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍may leave now.”

At ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍my declaration, the expressions of the Possessed Martial Artists—who had been looking up at me with delighted faces—turned deathly pale in an instant.

At some point, my pupils had begun burning with a blue light.

Naturally, strength drained from their legs.

Thud.

The Possessed Martial Artists collapsed weakly to the ground, bowing their heads as they spoke in terror.

“P-Please, don’t abandon us. P-Please…….”

Words that did not match their hearts spilled out endlessly from their mouths. Half of their minds turned blank, and only a single voice echoed—ordering them to submit.

A sense of crisis and fear surged, telling them they would never survive otherwise.

Their reason halted, and thought ceased.

Clinging to a single objective, the Possessed Martial Artists prostrated themselves at my feet and begged.

“Please don’t abandon us, Master. Please.”

Seeing their sudden change, I drew my sword and checked my eyes.

Reflected in the chillingly cold blade surface, my eyes were dyed in a cold blue.

‘Blue Eyes!’

I did not know why the Blue Eyes had suddenly activated.

Well, even the Red Eyes—the first stage of Ghost Eyes—still manifested on their own without my will quite often.

Since I did not know why it manifested, there was no way I could know how to control it.

In the end, I spoke.

“It doesn’t have to be now. If there comes a time when you can leave, you may depart without a word. I will not interfere.”

At those words, the Possessed Martial Artists burst into sobs and clung to me, begging not to be abandoned.

Watching them, I couldn’t tell whether I should laugh or cry.

The Vice Cult Leader returned to the Bright Cult.

Thirty thousand had departed, and twenty-eight thousand returned.

After countless battles and fierce combat that brought Tibet to its knees, there were many who were astonished that only two thousand had been lost.

Of course, the families of those two thousand felt differently.

To those bereaved families, I distributed the plundered supplies.

Taking care of the families of the dead—

This was something unprecedented not only in the Bright Cult, but even in the Demonic Path.

Originally, in the Demonic Path, the share of the dead belonged to those who survived.

Naturally, during the council meeting, questions arose as to why this should be done.

“Why do you think it shouldn’t be done?”

At my immediate counter-question, no one answered.

Looking at my eyes, which were gradually turning blood-red, no one dared to say something like, ‘Because it’s a waste to give it to the families of the dead.’

In the end, a considerable amount of wealth was distributed to the families of the fallen martial artists.

And that wasn’t all.

Those who had suffered severe injuries and could no longer live as martial artists were also given far more wealth than expected.

It was more than double what those who returned safely received.

Naturally, dissatisfaction erupted.

Why should those who had become useless receive even more wealth?

Some even went as far as suggesting that the wealth given to the severely injured should be taken back.

The mid-level commanders, who should have stopped and persuaded them, instead sided with that claim.

If they had been Bright Cult martial artists, such a thing would never have happened.

In fact, the roughly three thousand Bright Cult martial artists who had participated in the Tibet campaign voiced no complaints at all.

It wasn’t that they had no dissatisfaction. They were, after all, people of the Demonic Path. Their thoughts were likely no different.

Yet their reaction differed for one reason.

Might Makes Right.

Even if they had complaints, if it was the decision of the strong, they followed it—this unspoken rule of the Bright Cult applied in any situation, under any justification.

But ordinary Demonic Path martial artists were different.

For them, their own interests came first.

Of course, they also respected Might Makes Right.

The Demonic Path was a world where strength ruled everything.

Even so, they easily put their greed first—that was their nature.

Perhaps because of that, even the leaders of the Demonic Path sects who had taken back their conscripted martial artists seemed to accept that argument as reasonable.

Seeing this series of movements as opposition, the elders of the Bright Cult raged, saying they would slaughter them all if given the order.

The Cult Leader merely shrugged, as if telling me to solve the problem I had created.

In the end, I gathered the twenty-eight thousand who had returned outside the city walls once more.

Then, standing atop the gate tower, I spoke.

“Whether it’s a hood or a piece of cloth, cover your eyes with whatever you can use.”

They murmured, not understanding the command, but it was the Vice Cult Leader’s order. Disobeying it could mean a blade flying at them instantly.

The martial artists fumbled around and covered their eyes.

Watching them, I continued.

“In that state, without using your legs or arms, anyone who climbs up here—right beside me atop this gate—will receive as much wealth as they desire. Come up.”

A cheer of joy erupted, but it lasted only for a moment.

The vast majority of the martial artists lined up were First Rate.

Though a few Peak Masters were mixed in, with that level of skill, it was impossible to climb a wall over five zhang high—let alone reach the gate tower—while blindfolded and without using arms or legs.

Here and there, complaints arose that they had been given an impossible task.

Hearing that, I spoke again.

“Very well. You may use your legs. If you come up beside me, I will give you wealth.”

Instantly, dozens of Peak-level martial artists launched themselves into the air.

At the Peak level, even blindfolded, one could sense and evade an opponent’s blade.

Finding my position should have been easy—

The position that had been clear just moments ago blurred.

No—it multiplied.

My presence was detected from all directions.

Not just in front—left, right, even behind.

Those who had leapt into the air lost their sense of direction.

Thud. Bam.

From all around, people crashed into the wall after misjudging their direction.

A few managed to climb the wall by following their memory of the initial presence, but not a single person succeeded in reaching the gate tower where I stood.

Looking at them, I spoke.

“Remove your blindfolds.”

As their vision slowly returned, sighs spread among them.

Looking at them, I said:

“The standard for the severely injured was those who lost both eyes, or both legs, or both arms.”

I paused, then looked at those standing atop the wall with regretful expressions and continued.

“I heard you asked why such people are given more wealth. Why do you think that is?”

A martial artist who had climbed closest to me answered hastily, his face full of regret.

“I-It’s because we lost our sense of direction.”

Dissatisfied, my gaze shifted to another martial artist slightly farther away.

Understanding the meaning of my gaze, he answered quickly.

“It’s because we cannot display our full ability.”

Still not the answer I wanted, my gaze moved several more times.

Finally, I turned to the martial artists below the wall.

“I’ll give you ten days. Find the answer. When we gather here again in ten days, those who give me the correct answer will receive the same wealth as the severely injured. As a hint, try living your entire day blindfolded. Living as if you cannot use your legs or arms may also help you find the answer faster.”

Leaving those words behind, I stepped down from the tower without another word.

Outside the walls, the temporary encampment of Demonic Path martial artists fell into chaos.

Those who covered their eyes and those who refrained from using their arms or legs collided and fell over, creating disorder everywhere.

From the highest point where the Cult Leader resided, he watched the scene quietly and asked the Blood Sword Unit Commander beside him.

“What do you think?”

“It seems he intends to make them realize the discomfort of loss.”

“If you understand that so well, why are you still hovering around the Supreme Peak level?! You trying to screw me over?”

“N-No!”

Startled as the blame suddenly fell on him, the Blood Sword Unit Commander stammered.

The Cult Leader snapped.

“What do you mean no?! The Vice Cult Leader’s people are improving rapidly—so why are you, whom I teach, still stuck there?!”

“I-I apologize.”

“If you’re sorry, why do you have time to watch?!”

“Ah! I-I will train immediately!”

“Do you train with your mouth? Move your body!”

At the Cult Leader’s roar, the Blood Sword Unit Commander hurriedly began training.

The Cult Leader watched him with irritation.

Why was he suddenly irritated?

He didn’t know.

It simply meant that he had no idea why I—his junior disciple—was saying such things or making them do such tasks.

After all, he was also a true Demonic Path practitioner to his core, unable to understand why wealth should be given to those who had become useless.

Through this incident, the Cult Leader became convinced.

“That bastard thinks too much, so he doesn’t improve. If I grind him down so he can’t think useless thoughts, he’ll improve.”

His cold mutter reached the Blood Sword Unit Commander, who was drenched in cold sweat as he trained.

Thus, as the Blood Sword Unit Commander became a wreck under the Cult Leader’s intense training, ten days passed.

Then, by my order, the martial artists gathered outside the walls once more.

“Give your answers.”

At my words, about twenty people raised their hands and answered. Their answers varied slightly, but were largely similar.

That it was uncomfortable.

None of the answers satisfied me, so I gave them more time.

This time, five days.

The conditions were clearer.

Everyone had to cover their eyes. As for arms and legs, they could choose—but they were forbidden from using one of the two.

To supervise this, I even sent out the Thirteen Bloods.

At a time when every moment was precious, they were forced into this task instead of training, and their tempers flared.

Those who carelessly uncovered their eyes began to glimpse the gates of hell.

Those who said they wouldn’t use their legs but walked unconsciously soon truly couldn’t use them anymore.

Because broken legs cannot walk.

Those who half-heartedly followed the rules—uncovering their eyes when needed, using their hands, or walking—were now completely controlled.

No one could even eat properly.

Just covering their eyes made it impossible to eat anything except rice balls properly.

The entire encampment turned into chaos.

Five days passed like that.

Once again, I asked those gathered outside the walls.

“Have you found the answer?”

Many remained silent. They had begun to vaguely grasp what I wanted.

But many were still blinded by greed, unable to discern the truth.

Hands rose here and there.

After hearing all their answers, I spoke.

“I’ll give you four more days. Find it again.”

The expressions of the Thirteen Bloods—who had to supervise this again—were even more twisted than those of the martial artists.