The Witch King Contest... one had to admit, the descendants of the Twelve Witch Ancestors who devised it were ruthless enough—and clever enough.
They had wielded "buy a horse's bones for a thousand gold" and "kill three scholars with two peaches" to perfection.
Even if there were people like the old man who understood that this was a trap, they still could not change anything.
After all, no one was being forced to participate. It merely exploited the Witch Clan's desire to grow stronger.
Moreover, every promise made had been fulfilled. People had indeed gained enormous benefits because of it.
This was no longer merely a conspiracy. It had entered the realm of an open scheme.
It was like the decree of favor from his previous life. Even knowing its harm, for second sons and illegitimate sons who could not inherit and would ultimately be left with nothing, what did family or bloodline matter?
Just as the legitimate heir would never share power with his other brothers, once second sons and illegitimate sons finally had a legitimate reason to obtain power, they naturally would not give it up.
The situation now was the same.
The title of Witch King would surely belong to oneself—that was probably the mindset of those participating.
As for risks, or whether they might die, they either dismissed such matters outright without ever considering them, or they had considered them but possessed absolute confidence in themselves.
Most living beings only see themselves clearly at the instant they face death.
And even if they did see themselves clearly, once they were safe and returned to their original environment, they would still repeat the same mistakes.
Just like history, endlessly cycling.
The Dragon-Han Great Calamity was clearly right before their eyes. Whether it was the Twelve Witch Ancestors