Chapter 1009

If Ma Junggeol had given even the slightest suspicious or flimsy reason, he would’ve been thrown straight back out the gate—or stuffed into the underground prison somewhere inside the city to have a long chat with the torture specialists.

But when he lowered his voice, the reason he gave was more important than I’d expected.

“Dark Heaven. I have important information about them.”

“…!”

The moment he said it, everyone among the leadership, myself included, realized our unwelcome visitors might be a lot more useful than we’d thought.

“Well, we’ve kept our distinguished guests standing outside for far too long. Why don’t you come in for a cup of tea?”

At Sima Gong’s subtle invitation, Ma Junggeol straightened his shoulders as though nothing had happened and nodded.

“Sounds good. Just so you know, of all the teas, my brothers and I favor grain tea most.”

“I heard the Seven Masters of Baekma Bang were renowned drinkers. You’re every bit as forthright as they say. Come on in, then.”

Important conversations were best held with as few people watching as possible.

A few moments later, Ma Junggeol and his six men—no, the Seven Masters of Baekma Bang—had gone from unwelcome visitors to honored guests, each with a seat in the grand meeting hall.

“Ahhh. That’s good.”

Starting with Ma Junggeol, his six sworn brothers drained a small wine jar in one go, then smacked their lips.

“Whew, that’s really something.”

“What kind of liquor is this? It just melts on your tongue.”

“Right? It’s insane.”

“…It’s liquor. Of course it does. What the hell do you mean, ‘melts’? This is why people call you an idiot.”

“Enough! Fourth, is that any way to speak to your brothers?”

“Whew, look at you raising your voice again the second you can breathe easy. Honestly, I’d like to crack this wine jar over the back of your head right now.”

Naturally, no one’s head met the wine jar.

That was thanks to one remark from Jeok Cheongang, who’d been silently watching the seven-colored mounted-bandit rangers—or rather, the Seven Masters of Baekma Bang.

“Did you come here to drink?”

“…!”

“…!”

“You’ve wet your throats. Now, go on and spit it out.”

Ma Junggeol flinched at the menacing aura rolling off Jeok Cheongang, then stammered out a reply.

“F-first, I assume you already know something about the situation in Ningxia.”

“I’ve heard the basics. Because of mounted bandits like you, the place nearly became a battlefield, but it’s been quiet for the past few years. Is that right?”

“We’re no longer mounted bandits, but yes. Great Hero Jeok is right.”

“Still look like a bunch of mounted bandits to this old man, but go on.”

“There’ve been a few minor disputes over the years, but it’s become a fairly livable place. Anyone who’d done something they might feel guilty about left long ago. The ones who remain have completely turned over a new leaf and live ordinary lives, like me and my brothers. Sect Leader Sima here knows this well, too.”

Everyone’s eyes turned to Sima Gong. He nodded calmly.

“It’s true. As Ningxia Province settled down, various merchant caravans began passing through, and we heard all sorts of things from them. That was when I first heard about Baekma Bang.”

With Sima Gong backing him up, Ma Junggeol quickly picked up the thread.

“I don’t know exactly what you heard, Sect Leader Sima, but Baekma Bang is by far the largest group in Ningxia Province. Recently, we’ve even been opening a new trade route to help Ningxia Province prosper.”

“Wait. This new trade route you mentioned—is it perhaps…?”

“It’s probably where you’re thinking.”

Surprise spread across Sima Gong’s face. Watching him, I had a sudden thought.

“West. You mean west.”

“…!”

My sudden words sent an invisible ripple through the room.

Naturally. The west I meant wasn’t Gansu or Qinghai.

“Xinjiang…”

The word slipped through the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord’s lips like a groan.

The Taeeul Merciless Sword and the Roaring Fury Swordsman had been watching Ma Junggeol with obvious disapproval for a while now, as though something about him rubbed them the wrong way. They frowned and spoke up, too.

“So that’s what this is about. Xinjiang, huh. Hah.”

“I can’t listen to this anymore. How long are we supposed to sit here listening to such ridiculous nonsense?”

Much as I hated to admit it, theirs was the reasonable reaction.

What kind of place was Xinjiang?

It was even called the Land of Ruin.

A cursed land of endless deserts, teeming with Fiends who proclaimed the world belonged to the Demonic Path.

And a mere horse-caravan group—not one of the Nine Sects and One Gang or the Five Great Families—was supposed to open a trade route to Xinjiang?

What a joke.

And yet I could feel my heart beginning to beat faster.

The Taeeul Merciless Sword and the Roaring Fury Swordsman had forgotten the most important thing.

This wasn’t a pitch for investment or a business presentation.

Ma Junggeol’s story wasn’t over. The real story was only just beginning.

“That’s enough preamble, isn’t it?”

Jeok Cheongang’s low question left no doubt what he meant. Ma Junggeol drew a deep breath and spoke again.

“Even after things settled down, Ningxia Province was still in bad shape. The land was barren, and the nomads from the Great Steppe along our border raided us every harvest season. We needed a new way out.”

“So you wanted to cross the desert and open a trade route?”

“That was the idea, but it was nothing more than a dream. Even an uneducated fool like me knew people like us had no business dreaming of something so far beyond our reach. But…”

Ma Junggeol’s gaze suddenly shifted toward me.

“Not long ago, an opportunity came out of nowhere. The many nomads occupying the western Great Steppe suddenly began a mass migration.”

“Jamukha.”

The name slipped from my lips before I could stop it.

Only then did I understand why Ma Junggeol was looking at me, and what he’d meant by an unexpected opportunity.

Jamukha’s massive army had controlled the western steppe. They’d taken almost all their forces and marched into Shanxi Province. The gap they left behind had given Baekma Bang its chance.

“Then were you trying to reach Xinjiang through the steppe?”

At my question, gasps came from around the room.

Of course. There was another route, one so obvious now that everyone had forgotten it.

To the people of the Central Plains, the Great Steppe had long been another forbidden land, just like Xinjiang. But it was also the fastest shortcut across the desert.

Under everyone’s gaze, Ma Junggeol nodded, his face tense.

“That’s right.”

“…!”

“I picked out the men under me who were good riders, and we kept driving our horses without stopping. After riding like mad for ten whole days, we finally saw a vast yellow stretch of land in the distance. We’d reached the desert.”

Just then, his six sworn brothers, who’d been keeping an eye on everyone’s reaction behind him, nodded and chimed in.

“Man, it was a real shitshow. Honestly, I wanted to say to hell with the Chief and the whole damn venture and turn back.”

“But what could we do? We’d already come that far. We figured we might as well set foot on the sand before going home.”

“Then we traveled another ten days or so, right?”

“Don’t remind me. Even now, just thinking about that goddamn desert makes my knees buckle.”

“Enough! What a bunch of weaklings. Even through all that hardship, I trusted Big Brother and followed him.”

The diminutive middle-aged man, who looked rather old, delivered a stern rebuke. The man with the bulbous nose snorted.

“They say even if a horse’s hooves go crooked, you should keep the reins straight. So at least get your story straight. What did you do the moment those black bastards showed up on the tenth day, Second Hyung¹? You didn’t even look back. You got ready to run.”

“Enough…!”

The dwarf’s face turned as red as a ripe persimmon. He lunged at the bulbous-nosed man, but I was much faster.

Snatch.

His small fist landed squarely in my grasp.

I’d caught the dwarf’s punch with ridiculous ease. I fixed the bulbous-nosed man with a cold stare.

“Say that again.”

“W-what?”

“You just said those black bastards appeared on the tenth day after you entered the desert.”

He’d said it in passing, but everyone in the room had heard him clearly.

And the moment we heard it, our suspicion turned to certainty.

“It was Dark Heaven.”

Ma Junggeol spoke up in place of the bulbous-nosed man and continued.

“There were only a few dozen of them, but I’m certain. I’ll stake my life on it.”

Sima Gong spoke in a grave voice.

“What makes you so certain?”

“We followed them.”

“What?”

“For a day and a half. That was the best we could do. But I saw it with my own eyes. That night, when the moon was unusually bright, at least a thousand tents covered the sand dunes.”

“…!”

“There’s only one force in the western desert that could mobilize an army that large. Dark Heaven. Isn’t that right?”

A cold silence filled the meeting hall instead of an answer.

A thousand. Not a thousand people—a thousand tents.

What’s more, Ma Junggeol’s route across the desert was clearly closer to Gansu than Qinghai.

Even by the lowest estimate, that meant thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, of enemies were targeting Gansu Province.

And that might not even be all of them.

My mind went cold. Meanwhile, my heartbeat had grown so fast it was thundering in my ears.

Of course, it was too soon to be certain. There was still a question I needed answered before making a decision.

“You’re lucky you made it back alive.”

Sima Gong’s low voice broke the silence. Under his unfathomable gaze, Ma Junggeol licked his parched lips.

“It was close. I thought my heart was going to burst.”

“You know what I mean. Are you pretending not to?”

“We followed at a distance of exactly a hundred li.² The beginning was hard, but after that, their numbers kept growing, which made it much easier.”

“A mere horse caravan followed Dark Heaven without being spotted? Is that possible?”

“I’m ashamed to say it, but we’re not an ordinary horse caravan, are we? We may not wear our hair in queues, but when it comes to riding and keeping a sharp eye out, we’re no different from the nomads.”

“You could have turned back as soon as you spotted them. Why follow them for another day and a half?”

“That… well…”

Ma Junggeol hesitated, glanced at Sima Gong, then answered cautiously.

“I’d heard that if you render a service for the good of the realm, no one holds your origins against you.”

“You were thinking about a reward?”

“Yes.”

They’d managed it because there were few enough of them to avoid notice, and because their years as mounted bandits had taught them how to survive.

Their reason was clear, too.

After a moment’s thought, I turned to Jeok Cheongang and spoke.

“Now we know for sure which battlefield we need to be on.”