Chapter 1007

For anyone born and raised in Gansu Province, the pale sandstorms that swept through year-round were nothing unusual.

Their ancestors had recorded the loess-colored plateau’s existence as far back as the days when the river flowing through the region came to be called the Yellow River.

No one knew exactly when the plateau had formed or why, but it was still there. Whenever a strong wind blew in, a cloud would rise like a waterspout and sweep across the area before vanishing, scattering fine loess like stars.

That was probably why the Black Dragon Demon Gate martial artists standing watch atop the city wall felt nothing in particular as they watched a cloud of dust approach from the far north.

“Damn it. Here we go again.”

One of the martial artists frowned. The middle-aged squad leader pulled a scrap of cloth from inside his clothes with a practiced motion.

“Shut your mouth and put on your mask. Don’t stand there trying to tough it out like last time, then complain for days afterward.”

“I really couldn’t help it that time. How are you supposed to dodge it when it hits all at once? You can’t even breathe.”

“Suit yourself. If you’d rather eat a handful of sand than your next meal.”

The others were chuckling when someone watching the cloud of dust spoke up.

“Still, this one’s little. Almost cute. Looks like it’ll die down before it reaches us. The scouts way out front are going to get covered in it, though.”

“Oh, you’re right. Captain, why’d you put on your mask?”

They’d been through this often enough to know what they were looking at. This wasn’t a sandstorm towering more than ten jang¹ high. There was no need to make a fuss over a little cloud of dust.

Without bothering to take another look, the martial artists teased the Captain for putting on his mask so early.

“Look at you, Captain. You’ve lost your touch.”

“The Blood-Death Sword will be weeping. Heh.”

“Come on, you can tell how big it is at a glance. Why the rush? I used to be a mounted bandit, and I know thirty riders galloping side by side kick up a cloud about that size. It’s nothing.”

The Captain’s already fearsome face twisted into something monstrous.

“What?”

The laughter slowly died. His subordinates remembered how notorious the Captain had once been in the area and swallowed hard.

“W-we didn’t mean it like that, Captain…”

But his next words left them staring at him in confusion.

“No, not that.”

“Pardon?”

“The last thing he said. What was it?”

Everyone turned toward the former mounted bandit. He blinked.

“Me?”

“Yes. Say that again.”

“Uh, you can tell how big it is at a glance, so why the rush—”

“Not that, you bastard! The part after it!”

“Th-that a cloud of dust that size means about thirty riders…”

“And how many scouts left half a shichen² ago?”

“Exactly thirty. Was that when they got their horses earlier? I remember because they made a huge fuss, demanding better mounts since they had to patrol until sunset……”

His voice cut off.

Only then did the martial artists realize something was wrong. Their eyes darted between one another as they carried on a silent conversation.

Wait. What’s going on?

An unusually small cloud of dust. Thirty riders. And thirty scouts.

Something feels off.

Why are they back already if they’re not due until after sunset?

That feels even more off.

Maybe someone had to take a dump?

You can shit anywhere, cover it up, and call it a latrine. What kind of lunatic would abandon a mission just to come back and relieve himself?

Doesn’t everyone? I do.

You’re a real lunatic.

This feels seriously wrong.

No matter how they put their heads together, no matter what explanation they came up with, something was clearly amiss.

Gulp.

In the strange tension, just as someone swallowed dryly—

Fwoooosh! Boom!

Hundreds of jang away, red smoke shot up from the pale cloud of dust. The Captain recognized what the signal flare assigned to the scouts meant and forced his voice out.

“Suspicious person spotted…!”

That was the signal for someone acting strangely—an unfamiliar intruder.

At last realizing what was happening, the martial artists atop the wall shouted as if coughing up blood.

“This is real! It’s really happening!”

“What are you waiting for, you bastards? Move your asses!”

“L-let the Sect Leader know! Hurry!”

The wall erupted into chaos as if a powder magazine had exploded. Meanwhile, the flare that had burst brilliantly in the sky slowly drifted down over the thirty scouts racing toward them with all their might, raising a cloud of dust.

On one of the dozens of winding hills, a group stood watching with the shadows at their backs.

“Well… this is a hell of a mess.”

There were about fifty unidentified riders. At their head, a giant of a man let out a low groan. Another man beside him scratched vigorously at his shaggy hair.

“Ah, damn it. This is driving me crazy. Didn’t your little brother tell you we should approach slowly and gently?”

The giant frowned.

“I didn’t think they’d panic and run. We even brought a white flag just in case. Why are those bastards so scared?”

“Do you really need to ask? Look at your face, Big Brother. Who’s going to take a white flag as a friendly gesture from someone who looks like you?”

Agreement erupted from all around them.

“He’s right. Your face is downright terrifying. What good’s a white flag going to do?”

“They probably thought you were offering your condolences in advance to the poor bastards about to die.”

“It wouldn’t have helped if you’d gone over dressed in white instead.”

“Then they’d think you’d put on mourning clothes in advance to offer your condolences to the poor bastards about to die.”

“No need to say another word. Not even the Heavenly Demon’s granddaddy could beat Big Brother at looking vicious.”

“Damn it. This whole thing’s going to shit, and now I’m getting nervous. What if we ride over there and they shower us with arrows?”

“Can’t be helped. Big Brother, since it’s come to this, let’s just turn around and go back.”

“Second Brother, are you scared?”

“Bah! Who’s scared? I just remembered I left something important behind!”

“Looks like you brought your shriveled-up guts along… Ah, you left your balls behind.”

“Bah! Third Brother, how dare you!”

“There you go again with the bah, bah. That only sounds impressive when a Supreme Peak master says it. You can’t pull it off, Second Brother.”

“Bah! Must you see your own coffin before you learn your lesson?”

“I’m going to lose my mind if I have to keep listening to that. You’ve picked up a weird habit. So, Big Brother, what are you going to do?”

At the question from the man called Third Brother, the giant, who’d stayed silent through the rapid-fire exchange, finally spoke.

“We’re not turning back.”

His voice was as heavy as his build. He fixed his gaze on the loess-colored wall rising beyond the heat haze.

“I know what you’re all worried about… But Great Sir asked this of us himself. If you’re men who understand loyalty, follow my lead.”

“…!”

“…!”

The six men who called him Big Brother stared at him, their eyes trembling at his stern words.

The mutters that followed, however, weren’t the reaction he’d hoped for.

“There he goes, putting on a show again.”

“Now we’re the bad guys.”

“He’s a bear until it suits him to be a fox. Am I right, brothers?”

“Still, we should do as Big Brother says. Besides, Great Sir himself asked us. What choice do we have?”

“Bah…!”

“Please, someone gag Second Brother. Listening to him is going to give me qi deviation.”

Most of them grumbled like children whose sweets had been taken away. But they knew, as did the giant and the dozens of riders watching from behind them, that their purpose hadn’t changed just because things had turned out this way.

The strongest reason for that certainty was the person who had sent them here.

“Let’s go. The sun’ll set at this rate.”

With the late sunset beginning to spread from the west, the giant led the fifty or so riders over the hill.

Before long, they reached the wall. Hundreds of arrowheads were trained on them, with unfamiliar faces visible between them.

“Stop! Stop! Stop! Hands up! Move and we’ll shoot!”

At the shout from some young pretty boy, the giant calmly reached inside his clothes for the white flag he’d prepared.

Or rather, he tried to.

Before he could pull it out, the young man gave an order he hadn’t expected.

“Fire!”

“…Huh?”

Fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh!

Hundreds of arrows tore through the air.

Some carried more force than others, but every arrow, large or small, had been imbued with internal energy. Instead of arcing, they plunged straight down at the unexpected visitors.

Clang-clang-clang-clang!

Sparks flew in every direction.

The giant had ridden ahead alone, leaving his dozens of subordinates behind. He survived the net of arrows that covered a thirty-jang radius and bellowed.

“Are you out of your damn mind? Who starts shooting arrows without warning?”

Jeok Cheongang, standing beside me, nodded.

“He looks vicious as hell, but this old man has to agree with him. Has some inner demon taken hold of you?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Then why?”

“I told him to put his hands up, and he didn’t listen. That bastard tried to pull a fast one.”

“You’re insane.”

“Honestly, I didn’t think they’d actually shoot. I thought they’d ignore my order. Judging by his level, though, I figured he’d survive a volley like that, so it was a warning too. Anyway, no harm done, right?”

“Infinite Life Buddha…”³

The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord looked appalled by my clear-cut conclusion. The Black Night King, Sima Gong, burst into hearty laughter instead.

“Haha! Straight to the point. We could’ve used someone like you on our side.”

“…”

Was that a compliment or an insult?

While I considered how to respond, the giant—whose face was so vicious I could hardly believe anyone could look like that—shouted again.

“Don’t shoot! I said don’t shoot! Can’t you see what I’m holding?”

Flap.

So that was why he’d reached inside his clothes. He was waving a large piece of cloth.

It was covered in sand and loess, leaving it a thoroughly ambiguous yellowish color.

“What on earth is that supposed to mean? What does he want us to see on that dingy yellow thing?”

“Yellow cloth… Wait, could he be a Yellow Turban?”⁴

“That’s ridiculous. What era do you think this is? How could the Yellow Turbans still be around?”

Watching everyone debate, I felt the weighty responsibility of providing another clear-cut answer.

He’s acting suspicious, he looks vicious, and the men with him look like they’ve each got at least eighteen prior convictions.

No matter how I looked at it, only one solution came to mind.

“Prepare a volley.”

“Uh…?”

“Fire!”

Fwoosh, fwoosh, fwoosh!