Chapter 1006

Rustle.

A thick animal hide unfurled across the large table. Its surface, tanned by human hands, was covered edge to edge with drawings and writing that detailed the terrain.

“As you can see, this map was made by our sect. We’ve spent many years documenting every feature of Gansu in detail, revising each change as it occurred, until it was complete.”

Sima Gong’s voice was calm, but every leader gathered around the table understood what the map meant.

A province might sound like a mere piece of the world, but even the smallest was comparable in size to a country. And it wasn’t as if they had drones or satellites. Making a map like this took enormous wealth and manpower.

The Black Dragon Demon Gate’s ability to produce one so vast and detailed showed how much control it held across Gansu. It also showed the reach of Sima Gong’s intelligence network.

“You must’ve put a lot of work into this. So what, are you trying to brag that you’ve got this whole area locked down?”

Jeok Cheongang had no use for subtlety. A faint smile appeared on Sima Gong’s lips.

“Of course not. The Kongtong Sect is one of the pillars of the Central Plains. How could we presume to claim Gansu for ourselves?”

His words were humble, but everyone knew where Sima Gong and the Black Dragon Demon Gate stood in Gansu Province.

And besides…

“This is an important meeting, but that very pillar is missing.”

It was true. The Kongtong Sect wasn’t here.

Even after I’d pointed that out, Sima Gong’s smile didn’t waver.

“No need to worry. The pillar is elsewhere, preparing to hold back the downpour that’s about to come.”

“So the Kongtong Sect has already been sent to the front lines.”

Sima Gong nodded at the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord, who’d cut in.

“Just as the Sect Leader guessed. We’ve established three lines of defense stretching across Dunhuang, the Great Snow Mountain, and the Qilian Mountains in Gansu Province.”

“Three lines? Aren’t your forces spread too thin?”

The others in the room nodded at the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord’s concern.

If Dark Heaven’s vast army marched into Gansu, a single great battle could decide everything. But Sima Gong’s expression remained unchanged.

“They may not rival Kunlun, but the Great Snow Mountain and the Qilian Mountains are both among the ten most treacherous mountain ranges under heaven. And our enemies have that bizarre dark art they call the Moving Formation. We judged it too dangerous to concentrate all our forces in Dunhuang.”

“I agree with you, Sect Leader Sima. The question is whether you have enough forces to hold three fronts.”

Being outnumbered was our greatest obstacle.

The enemy had an army of a hundred thousand. Even if they split their forces to attack three provinces at once, that still left more than thirty thousand pouring into each one like a pack of dogs.

To face that many, we need to gather in one place. And we’ll only stand a chance if we make the most of the terrain.

That was how we’d fought in Shanxi Province not long ago. Luck and determination together had won us the day.

Anyone could see the problem, whether they knew military strategy or not. And Sima Gong was no village bumpkin. He was the Black Night King, the man who’d built the Black Dragon Demon Gate into a major power. Could he really have missed something so obvious?

No way.

He met everyone’s gaze without a trace of unease. I could sense the confidence behind his calm.

“You already have enough forces in Gansu.”

Sima Gong’s smile deepened.

“About a month ago, I put all of Gansu Murim on alert. Our sect, the Kongtong Sect, and every other martial faction in the area had already been keeping watch for some time, so we were able to gather our forces quickly.”

Which means…

“Thirty thousand. That’s how many we’ve assembled so far. We’ve mobilized everything Gansu Murim has.”

“…!”

“…!”

The leaders’ eyes widened. Mine did too.

Thirty thousand?

It was an enormous force. Shanxi Province had fielded only fifteen thousand to hold Eight Spring Gorge against the forces of the Great Steppe.

And Sima Gong had specified Gansu Murim. All thirty thousand were martial artists. There was no comparing that to Shanxi’s army, more than half of which had been government soldiers.

Granted, Shanxi Murim had already suffered grievous losses in the conflict with the Mount Heng Sword Sect and the Head Elder’s betrayal. Even taking that into account, thirty thousand was almost beyond imagining.

“W-where did you find that many people?”

The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord had voiced what everyone must have been wondering. Jeok Cheongang, who’d been watching with a frown, spoke before Sima Gong could answer.

“Unorthodox factions have always had numbers, if nothing else. Isn’t that right?”

Sima Gong smiled and nodded.

“I won’t deny it.”

“Even so, thirty thousand would be nearly impossible for the Nine Sects and One Gang of the Central Plains.”

“That’s also true. Would the Great Nation have stood idly by if this many ruffians, liable to turn the swords at their waists against the state at any moment, had gathered?”

The phrase the government and Murim shall not interfere in one another’s affairs had been rendered nearly meaningless since the Son of Heaven declared Dark Heaven traitors. But the principle had arisen for a reason.

It was an unspoken rule that had arisen naturally alongside Murim itself.

A stone that stuck out was bound to get hammered down. The countless martial factions scattered across the land had long checked one another and made agreements to avoid conflict. In turn, the Great Nation tolerated them so long as they posed no threat to its foundations.

People even said that dynasties changed, but Murim remained.

Now Gansu Murim had crossed that unspoken line. They’d gathered thirty thousand martial artists in the frontier, not even the Central Plains. That was an army they couldn’t have raised even if they’d turned every martial faction in Gansu Province upside down and shaken them out.

Which means…

Only one possibility remained. The majority had no affiliation with any particular sect. They were the sort of people who followed only their own needs and interests.

“You even scraped together the dark-path figures. You must’ve been desperate.”

The dark path.

Those people had coexisted uneasily with Murim for ages. Several faces darkened at the mention of them, and the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord’s eyes grew especially grave.

“Sect Leader Sima. Is what Great Hero Jeok said true?”

Sima Gong answered calmly.

“Some of them are dark-path figures. Is that a problem?”

“Well…”

“I won’t pretend otherwise. I’m an unorthodox martial artist. The Yangtze River Channel League and the Green Forest Alliance have their roots in the dark path. Ah, and so does that son of mine over there.”

Sama Pyo, silent until now, looked shaken at being singled out by his father. But Sima Gong spoke again, drawing everyone’s attention back.

“And all the people I just mentioned have one thing in common. Do you know what it is?”

They did. Everyone in the room knew.

Yet they remained silent, their expressions heavy.

All but one.

“They fought for the Murim Alliance, and they’re fighting for it now.”

Jeok Cheongang.

Sima Gong’s reflection appeared in his reddish, fever-bright eyes, befitting the title of Fire King.

“Unorthodox, dark-path figures, or nobodies who crawled in from God knows where—I don’t give a damn. If the weapons in their hands are pointed at Dark Heaven, that’s all that matters.”

Sima Gong nodded, his face set.

“As it was in the past, so it will be this time.”

“I’m not doubting you. But dark-path figures who’ve drifted all the way out to this frontier must be a rotten lot. If something goes wrong…”

“I’ll stake my head on it.”

Jeok Cheongang stared at him in silence. Then he turned and swept his gaze around the room.

“What do you all think?”

Respected elders of Gansu Murim had come to greet us alongside Sima Gong, but Jeok Cheongang wasn’t asking them. His question was for the senior members of the Zhongnan Sect who’d traveled with us.

The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord stood at their center, hesitating. His Senior Brothers, the Roaring Fury Swordsman and the Taeeul Merciless Sword, answered one after the other.

“Someone once said it doesn’t matter whether a cat is white or black, so long as it catches mice.”

“The Sima Gong I know is a comrade-in-arms and a hero, someone who weathered the war alongside us, before he is an unorthodox martial artist. That a man like him should have to stake his life on this—isn’t that a crying shame?”

I watched the two old Daoists pour out their answers as smoothly as if they’d been waiting for their turn. Then Jeok Cheongang looked my way.

“So, are you done stuffing your face with honey?”

He meant I’d been sitting there with my mouth full, acting like I couldn’t speak. I smacked my lips and answered.

“Yeah. It was sweet.”

“You’ve held that precious honey in your mouth long enough. You must have something to say by now.”

“Is this something I get to decide?”

“Not a chance. Who do you think you are?”

I gave a short laugh and looked around.

Most of the faces were unfamiliar; I knew neither their names nor their titles. There were senior members of the Black Dragon Demon Gate and leaders of Gansu Murim, each of them heading a martial faction large or small.

Sima Gong was at their center.

“Can I ask a few questions?”

“Anything.”

“I doubt you made all these decisions alone. Am I right?”

“Of course. The Sect Leaders here agreed, as did the Kongtong Sect.”

“Then if Dark Heaven isn’t targeting Gansu…”

“We’ll leave some forces behind and head straight for Qinghai. But that won’t happen.”

“Why not?”

“The signs are troubling. The enemy beyond the desert used to be the Demonic Cult; now it’s Dark Heaven. Either way, they’ve always been our greatest concern, even after the Great Faction War.”

“What signs?”

“It’s too early to say. I’ve already selected people I can trust and sent them to scout beyond the desert. We’ll know for certain when they return. So…”

Sima Gong’s gaze moved from me to Jeok Cheongang.

“Please leave Gansu’s defenses to us and go to Qinghai, Senior. Even with reinforcements from Huashan and the others, Qinghai is the place where every moment counts.”

“Qinghai… Qinghai.”

Jeok Cheongang murmured the name, almost groaning.

That was when a frantic voice rang out through the gap between the tightly shut doors.

“S-Sect Leader!”