Chapter 1016

I’d had a vague sense of it since we first met, but Wolhwa was impossible to figure out.

What on earth possessed her to send me a missive like this out of nowhere?

A Meeting When the Yellow River Runs Clear.¹

I didn’t know much about classical idioms, but even a rough, literal translation left plenty of room for misunderstanding.

A meeting like the river running clear.

Wasn’t that the sort of thing you’d say only to someone you were at least flirting with?

This is going to give the gossip mill a real boost.

Of course, I wasn’t delusional enough to get the wrong idea over a single missive.

I’d known for a long time that Wolhwa’s interest in me was limited to her being a member of the Lower District Sect. It had absolutely nothing to do with romantic feelings.

But…

The problem is that Young Lady Ju might misunderstand—not me.

I muttered to myself and put the crumpled missive back in my Inventory.

It bothered me a little, but there was nothing I could do about it for now. Time would sort it out eventually, and far more important problems stood in my way.

And at this very moment—

Whoosh.

A cold wind swept across the plateau, and a vast mountain range finally came into view. It was a sign that we’d taken another step toward those problems.

That’s…

My eyes widened before I knew it.

Vast. Dazzling.

That was my first impression of the Qilian Mountains.

“I’d only heard about them. But seeing them for real… wow.”

Hyuk Mujin murmured, sounding dazed.

But he wasn’t the only one. Everyone was staring in wonder, myself included.

Sheer cliffs lined a mountain range that stretched on without end like the body of a dragon. Between them, peaks pierced the clouds, rising so high they seemed to hold up the sky.

And that wasn’t all.

Perpetual snow painted the mountains white in places, lending them an air of mystery, as though we’d stepped into another world.

Yet the narrow gorges between the cliffs were long and constricted, like entrances to hell. The mountains were a natural fortress.

This is even more than I’d heard.

The Eight Spring Gorge, which had changed Shanxi’s fortunes time and time again, felt like a hill behind the village compared to the Qilian Mountains before us.

But the drawback was just as obvious.

“It’s too vast.”

At Song Ilseom’s brief remark, I nodded quietly.

He was right. The Qilian Mountains weren’t merely large. They were immense.

The range stretched for thousands of li², beginning in southwestern Gansu and reaching all the way to Qinghai. Spread a hastily assembled net across all that ground, and it would be torn apart in an instant.

Especially if the big fish we were trying to catch was Dark Heaven.

So, as soon as we entered the Qilian Mountains—which were already surrounded by the Gansu martial artists’ tight defenses—the leaders gathered in one place to discuss this problem first.

Or, more precisely, Jeok Cheongang and I did.

“There are too many troops stationed in the rear for what they’re meant to do. So, what I’m saying is—”

“Pull them out. All of them.”

Jeok Cheongang cut in before I could finish. He picked at his ear, then added, “I had a bad feeling when I heard about it, but seeing the place confirms it. Even if we threw every last man at the Great Snow Mountain and Dunhuang into this, we couldn’t seal it off completely. We’d be better off gathering them all and throwing them onto another front.”

Jeok Cheongang swept his gaze over the gathering like a landlord telling a troublesome tenant to clear out. Then his eyes came to rest on one man.

“I thought you, at least, would know that much. Was I mistaken?”

The Black Night King, Sima Gong, answered with a gentle smile.

“Thank you for thinking so highly of me. But I, and the Sect Leaders and Family Heads gathered here, know the Gansu region better than anyone. The Qilian Mountains included, of course.”

“Know it better than anyone…”

Jeok Cheongang repeated Sima Gong’s words softly, as if turning them over, then spoke in an even voice.

“That sounds like you’re telling me to shut up if I don’t know enough.”

“How could we dare show such disrespect to you, Senior Jeok, of all people? Please take back your words.”

“Please calm yourself, Great Hero Jeok.”

“We reached this decision only after thorough discussion.”

After Sima Gong’s smooth apology, the Sect Leaders and Family Heads of Gansu Murim, who’d been watching for a cue, clasped their hands in salute one after another.

Like lackeys following their boss.

And that was when, as I silently watched the scene before me, I noticed the only one among them holding his back straight.

Sama Pyo.

Our eyes met for a moment. He wore that same unreadable expression of his. Then Sama Pyo quietly lowered his head too, following his father’s lead.

Swish.

Perhaps it was the sudden silence that made the brush of clothing sound so loud.

The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord spoke.

“It is difficult for this poor Daoist to judge. Everyone here is a leader of Gansu Murim, and I would like to believe you have made the right decision. But… I also think Great Hero Jeok’s concern is entirely possible.”

“More than possible. I’d say there’s a nine-in-ten chance he’s right.”

Everyone turned to look at me. I went on without the slightest embarrassment.

“Even with thirty thousand allied troops and several thousand more, splitting them up to maintain three fronts means we won’t be worth a damn anywhere. There’s a reason people say you live if you stick together and die if you scatter.”

“Thank you for reminding us all of the most basic principle, which everyone here had somehow forgotten.”

The Roaring Fury Swordsman let out a short, derisive laugh. I shrugged at him.

“You don’t have to thank me that much. People forget things now and then when they get old. Though this one’s pretty basic.”

“……!”

“Oh, sorry. Was that too cheeky?”

I hadn’t said it to get under his skin. I meant it.

Seeing the Roaring Fury Swordsman’s face turn red, I realized I might’ve gone too far—but what could I do when the words came out on their own?

Well, we were all in the same boat now. He’d understand.

Or not.

“You—no, you…”

Maybe the cheek of a young punk talking back had made his blood boil. The Roaring Fury Swordsman glanced at Jeok Cheongang, and seemed to be starting to hyperventilate. Someone else stepped in for him.

“Stick together and live, scatter and die. True enough. But not in a situation like this.”

I guess that was what fellow disciples were for.

I looked straight at the Taeeul Merciless Sword, who’d stepped in at just the right moment.

“What do you mean by ‘a situation like this’?”

“Are you asking because you don’t know, or are you pretending not to?”

The Taeeul Merciless Sword frowned.

“You seem to have forgotten what monstrous dark arts they wield.”

Nobody here failed to understand what the Taeeul Merciless Sword meant. I certainly hadn’t.

“The Moving Formation. Right. They have that.”

I nodded, then spoke again, as calmly as if nothing were wrong.

“So?”

“What!”

“What did you say?”

The questions came from all sides at once.

But I’d expected that reaction. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have brought it up.

“On the way here, I thought of something I wanted to ask…”

I let the words trail off and slowly looked around the gathering.

“If you’re so wary of the Moving Formation, why did you station an army of over thirty thousand in the front in the first place?”

“……!”

Silence pressed down on us.

It didn’t lift until someone, who’d been watching the situation with calm eyes, suddenly spoke.

“For the greater good.”

The Black Night King, Sima Gong. Him again.

Speaking on everyone’s behalf, Sima Gong continued in a low, steady voice.

“What you said earlier was right. If we spread ourselves out carelessly, we’ll accomplish nothing. So we put our heads together and considered it carefully, and this is the conclusion we reached: divide our forces among three fronts, so they can return to the rear at any time.”

At first glance, it sounded reasonable.

It was the same argument they’d made when the leaders first gathered.

But…

That was only true, as I’d just said, at first glance.

“It seems like a long way to go back. If Dark Heaven appears in the rear through the Moving Formation, how are we supposed to catch up with them?”

If tens of thousands of locusts descended on a field, it wouldn’t take even half a day for everything to disappear.

Dark Heaven was that swarm of locusts.

And their fangs and wings were too savage and fast for us to make up a delay of several days and catch them.

By the time our allies arrived, Gansu would already be laid waste, and Dark Heaven would be heading for the Central Plains.

Did these men really not know that? They’d been fixtures in Gansu for decades, some for more than a century.

Of course they knew.

They had to.

Sima Gong’s next words turned my suspicion into certainty.

“That’s right. Without a doubt.”

“……!”

“……!”

At that brief reply, Jeok Cheongang and I understood what he meant, and our gazes grew intent. But not everyone understood. The Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord, for one, was looking at Sima Gong with a puzzled expression.

“Sect Leader Sima. What exactly do you mean by…?”

His words trailed off.

But the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord led the great Zhongnan Sect. Before Sima Gong’s reply had faded, a thought occurred to him, and his face stiffened.

“Surely you don’t mean to stand by and let it happen? Even if they use the Moving Formation to bypass our lines and ravage the rear?”

Sima Gong answered evenly.

“Stand by and let it happen? Nothing of the sort. We’ve simply chosen the option with the best chance of victory.”

“Wait. Then what happens to the rear? To the common people and martial artists still there?”

“I told you. It’s for the greater good.”

“Sect Leader Sima!”

Crash!

The chair shattered in an instant.

But even as the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord shouted and sprang to his feet, Sima Gong’s voice didn’t waver in the slightest.

“If Dark Heaven crosses the desert and attacks us head-on, we’ll immediately concentrate every force there. They might use the Moving Formation to take the rear instead… but that would be the worst move they could make.”

A fish that tore through a net from the outside could come and go as it pleased. But if it passed through the net as if by teleportation, it would find itself trapped inside.

A two-front war.

That was Sima Gong’s plan.

Effective, but it would demand enormous sacrifice.

A truly unorthodox scheme.

But…

Was that all there was to it?

“Whether we defend this place or burn it to the ground is our choice. Neither the Zhongnan Sect nor the Jin Family of Taiyuan owns it.”

Sima Gong’s icy gaze silenced the Wind-and-Cloud Sword Lord. I watched him, my own gaze sinking deep.