Chapter 1013

“G-Great Sir?”

Ma Junggeol and his sworn brothers stared at me, eyes wide. It took them a moment to recover.

“No, why Great Sir all of a sudden…?”

I answered calmly.

“It’s not all of a sudden. He’s connected to this situation to some extent. And I’m sure you know why I’m asking, so I don’t need to spell it out, do I?”

“You suspect me… no, us of being Dark Heaven’s spies?”

“Not exactly. At least, not the people here.”

“Then you suspect Great Sir?”

I shrugged. Ma Junggeol and the rest of the Seven Masters of Baekma Bang went rigid.

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Damn it, how many times do we have to tell you he isn’t?”

“As our Chief already told you, Great Sir is absolutely not that kind of person. You heard it all for yourself, didn’t you?”

Of course I had.

I’d learned only that he was a highly unusual person—the kind you rarely came across.

But this wasn’t the time to think, Huh. People like that exist, and let it go.

“Hah! I’ll stake my neck on it if I have to!”

I scratched my chin and looked at the short man who’d shouted a beat late.

“You over there. You’ll stake your own neck?”

“…Huh?”

Apparently he hadn’t expected me to take him up on it. He flinched and worked his lips.

“I-I mean, my neck might be a bit much. Maybe my wrist…”

“A man’s word is worth a thousand pieces of gold! Of course he’ll stake it! Cut off Second Brother’s head!”

“Hey, you crazy bastard!”

While the shorty flailed at the bulbous-nosed man’s sudden offer to wager on his behalf, I spoke in a low, measured voice.

“Wrist or neck, the math doesn’t work out either way.”

“What do you mean…?”

“I’m asking because I’m curious. Do you think all these people are taking a casual trip to the next town over just because they’re bored?”

“……!”

The mood turned heavy in an instant. Their wavering eyes were fixed on the backs of the countless people riding far ahead.

The Black Dragon Demon Gate. The Zhongnan Sect.

Martial artists from large and small sects throughout Gansu Murim.

And finally, me and the members of the Fire Dragon Pavilion.

That wasn’t all. In the direction those thousands of men and horses were racing lay tens of thousands of our allies, who could be in danger at any moment.

Even if all seven of them staked their lives, not just the short man, those lives couldn’t be weighed against what was at stake.

“Am I the only one here who’s heard that war isn’t a gamble?”

I’d said it almost to myself, but neither Ma Junggeol nor anyone else dared answer.

Of course they didn’t.

They knew how absurd it would be to dismiss every suspicion about a mysterious Supreme Peak master on the word of a few horse-caravan men.

The Great War that would decide the fate of the world was still underway. War was no gamble.

Besides…

There’s good reason to be suspicious. This isn’t paranoia.

I looked Ma Junggeol straight in the eye, recalling the Sound Transmissions the Seven Masters had exchanged the day before.

“I heard something interesting in your Sound Transmissions. What do you make of that?”

“Something interesting? What…?”

“I heard you say Great Sir had told you a thing or two about which way to go. Quite recently, too.”

I put particular emphasis on the last part. Ma Junggeol’s eyes, already lowered with worry, visibly wavered.

“T-that…”

“Now I’m curious. Exactly how recently was it? And what did he tell you? Don’t you think?”

I turned to Jeok Cheongang, who had been watching. He nodded.

“Hearing you say that, this old man is curious too. Why did you keep something so important to yourselves until now?”

Looking back, it was more than enough to make anyone suspicious.

How had the Seven Masters of Baekma Bang—former mounted bandits, unremarkable wanderers who had never distinguished themselves—come up with the audacious idea of crossing the desert of the Land of Ruin?

I’d only watched them up close for a short time, but I remembered every word of their Sound Transmissions. I already had a guess.

“The idea of opening a new trade route west wasn’t yours to begin with. Am I wrong?”

“……!”

“……!”

If I hadn’t followed Namho’s advice the day before and moved back early, quite a few people might have been startled by what I’d just said.

But for a little over thirty meters¹ around us, there was no one else. Ma Junggeol had only one choice left.

“…There’s nothing more to hide.”

The words slipped out after a heavy silence. They were as good as an admission.

Before his sworn brothers could hurriedly shout something, I raised a hand to silence them and calmly continued my questions.

“Why did you hide it?”

“Because Great Sir wouldn’t have wanted us to tell anyone. Thanks to him, we changed our ways and have lived well ever since. We’re not beasts. How could we go around talking openly about what he’d done?”

“Tell me more.”

“This wasn’t the first time. From more than ten years ago right up until today, Great Sir has given my younger brothers and me all kinds of advice. When we first met him, we were so overwhelmed by his divine might that we asked to become his subordinates. He refused us outright and said…”

Ma Junggeol slowly looked over his sworn brothers and their complicated expressions before continuing.

“A caterpillar ought to eat pine needles. He asked whether we wouldn’t be better off gathering mounted bandits like ourselves, men who could still change their ways, and forming a group of our own. So my brothers and I took his advice.”

“Baekma Bang…”

“That’s right. That was how Baekma Bang began. Whenever we ran into trouble after that, Great Sir showed us the right way forward. The new trade route was no different.”

“Then when you said you’d been considering a western trade route for years, was that…”

Ma Junggeol understood what I was asking and hurriedly waved his hands.

“I don’t know if you’ll believe me in a situation like this, but that part is absolutely true. Great Sir simply advised us to do it. Afterward, we started searching for a new route west and realized the grasslands were our only option. Of course, we hadn’t dared attempt it all that time.”

“And that’s how you noticed the opening in the western grasslands so quickly,” Jeok Cheongang muttered.

Ma Junggeol nodded.

“Yes. Of course, we had no idea things would take such an unexpected turn. Great Sir probably didn’t either.”

Naturally.

Even if Hong Dao, the Dharma King who could read the heavenly patterns, were still alive, how could he have predicted something years in the future in such detail?

That wouldn’t be reading the heavenly patterns. That’d be prophecy. Prophecy.

And as Ma Junggeol went on, Great Sir’s advice didn’t sound particularly extraordinary.

He’d started by helping a few good-hearted mounted bandits, who had nowhere to go and had never farmed a day in their lives, put their skills to use and establish Baekma Bang.

A new trade route beyond the desert?

It was a bold idea, not one an ordinary person would come up with easily. But from what I’d heard of his martial prowess and his past, Great Sir was far from ordinary.

It was also the kind of wish the heads of the great groups bordering the desert or ambitious merchant-house leaders might have entertained at least once.

But what was this strange feeling I couldn’t explain?

What the hell?

I shook my head to clear away my stray thoughts, then parted my lips, which had been closed for a while, toward Ma Junggeol, who was swallowing nervously.

“One last question. Whose idea was it to come find us?”

“I’m ashamed to say that was Great Sir’s advice too.”

“Thought so.”

“We could have arrived half a day sooner. But this was too serious for us to decide on our own, so we went to see Great Sir as soon as we entered Ningxia.”

“Go on.”

“We told him what happened on the grasslands and in the desert. He knocked back several bowls of liquor as though he were listening to a dog bark, then said, ‘You idiots should’ve gone to Gansu ages ago. Why are you still sitting on your asses here?’”

“……!”

“And after that, well, here we are. Damn it.”

Ma Junggeol fell silent, looking half resigned. For a while, the only sounds were the horses’ rough breathing and the thunder of hooves. The bulbous-nosed man glanced around and cautiously spoke up.

“Seven days and nights. I think that should be enough.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jeok Cheongang asked with a frown.

The man panicked and pointed at me.

“Y-your Disciple asked us earlier how long it would take to bring Great Sir back. I was answering him.”

The first time is hard. After that, it gets easier.

Ma Junggeol’s sworn brothers, who had been moving their lips without speaking, finally chimed in.

“Third Brother’s right for once. Seven days and nights will be plenty.”

“Just leave it to us. We’ll bring him back, even if we have to give it everything we’ve got.”

“W-well, it’d take seven days and nights if we’re going to the Qilian Mountains. It might take longer if it’s the Great Snow Mountain or Dunhuang.”

“It’s not as if Great Sir is some vicious fiend. Rather than stay shut away in that remote backwater, he could take this chance to serve the Murim Alliance. Don’t you think?”

“Hah! ‘Not a bad idea,’ you say? He’s already done a great service by sending the seven of us to warn you about Dark Heaven. It’s bound to be an excellent choice for Great Sir too, since…”

Whoosh! Smack!

“Gah!”

“You little shit! I told you to stop shouting ‘Hah!’ Did my words go in one ear and out the other?”

Jeok Cheongang moved like a ghost, kicked off the saddle, soared through the air, and smacked the shorty on the back of the head. Then he returned and turned to me.

“So? What will you do?”

I slowly swept my gaze across the Seven Masters of Baekma Bang and answered.

“Six days. No—five.”

“What?”

“Five days. Whether this march stops at the Qilian Mountains, the Great Snow Mountain, or Dunhuang, you’ll be back by then.”

“……!”

“One of you stays behind, no matter what. I don’t think I need to say who.”

“W-wait. You mean our Chief…!”

The Seven Masters of Baekma Bang began to object all at once, having realized what my words meant. Then Ma Junggeol suddenly spoke.

“Fine.”

“Chief!”

“I can stay here. The rest of you, bring Great Sir back as quickly as you can. Go!”

Perhaps they sensed something in his firm manner. They worked their lips as though they wanted to argue, but at my quiet nod, they hurriedly turned their horses and left the formation.

Thud-thud-thud!

Ma Junggeol watched the six grassland horses disappear into the darkness, a deep look in his eyes.

And though his face was resolute, his barely moving lips held the words he couldn’t bring himself to say aloud.

“Fuck. I’m so fucking screwed…”

“……”

“……”

What the hell is with this guy?

Jeok Cheongang and I stared at him in disbelief. His eyes had grown damp.

Then Namho rode up, performing what looked like acrobatics on his bouncing saddle.

“I need to talk to you. Have you got a minute?”

I meant to report what we’d learned to the command staff right away, so I was about to shake my head.

Then Namho lowered his voice and whispered in my ear.

“It’s important. And I can only tell you now.”