Chapter 998

As Jin Wikyung had already said, the most likely place for a major battle with Dark Heaven was Qinghai, where the Kunlun Sect was located.

It was a strategic foothold the enemy would have to take before advancing into the Central Plains—and one the orthodox Murim would have to defend with their lives.

That was exactly why I could answer Hyuk Mujin’s question about how we would get to Qinghai without hesitation.

“We run. Fucking hard.”

“I know that much. What I wanted to ask was…”

“Running fucking hard is fine, but how long do we keep it up?”

“Ah, Captain. You know exactly what I’m thinking.”

“Keep going.”

“…Excuse me?”

“Keep going. All the way.”

“Wait, all the way to Qinghai?”

I asked without easing the reins of my galloping horse.

“Otherwise?”

“I think taking the water route would be better. We can travel overland as you said, then take a tributary of the Yangtze from Shaanxi straight to Qinghai. It’d save us about half a day and take a lot less effort.”

On the face of it, the suggestion made sense.

Half a day wasn’t much, but we’d arrive sooner and conserve our Stamina before an important battle.

Besides, even the Yangtze River Channel League—the river’s gangsters, notorious across the country for generations—was part of the Murim Alliance. If we were lucky, we might be able to hijack a swift ship… No, borrow one.

Or at the very least, a Great Nation military vessel.

But I shook my head at once.

“The land route is better.”

“Why? Do you get seasick?”

“……”

“Even if you do, try to bear with it. I’ll pat your back.”

Was this bastard looking down on a Supreme Peak master?

And I wasn’t some newly minted Supreme Peak master, either. I’d reached the pinnacle of martial arts and completed Bone Transformation. I was a superhuman among superhumans.

I could ride a Wolmido Disco Pang Pang¹ and feel perfectly steady. Seasickness?

I stared at Hyuk Mujin in disbelief, momentarily at a loss for words. Just then, a fierce gust of wind swept toward the back of his head.

Whoosh—smack!

“Gah!”

It was the sort of impact that felt satisfying just to hear. Jeok Cheongang, who had expertly smacked the back of Hyuk Mujin’s head, clicked his tongue.

He’d found the saddle uncomfortable, so he was traveling by stepping from branch to branch along the trees lining the road.

“You stupid fool. Why do you talk so much? If your superior tells you to do something, you do it.”

If anyone but me had smacked Hyuk Mujin on the back of the head, he’d have been glaring daggers. But when that someone was the Fire King, Jeok Cheongang, it was a different story.

Unable to talk back, Hyuk Mujin rubbed his aching head and glanced around before speaking.

“I was just offering a better suggestion. Why are you doing this to me?”

“A better suggestion? Do you really think so?”

“Wasn’t it…?”

“I’ll admit it sounded plausible. But you overlooked the most important thing.”

Before Hyuk Mujin could answer, Jeok Cheongang’s low voice carried through the wind.

“Dark Heaven. Whether those devious bastards are truly targeting Qinghai.”

“……!”

“We know nothing for certain yet. No one knows where Dark Heaven’s army, said to be marching beyond the desert, is headed. Qinghai isn’t the only route into the Central Plains.”

I nodded. Jeok Cheongang had the situation exactly right.

There wasn’t just one route. There were three, maybe more.

Qinghai, Gansu, and even Tibet, beyond the borderlands and counted among the Outer Lands.

Qinghai was the likeliest main target because of its strategic importance, but an invasion through Gansu or Tibet was entirely possible too.

And besides…

They have a Warp Gate—or rather, a Moving Formation.

The Moving Formation gave the enemy more options, while serving as a painfully sharp dagger aimed at our backs.

They could send as many as a thousand people—at least, that was the number we’d confirmed so far—to somewhere in the Central Plains through a Moving Formation. How could we take that lightly?

Of course, there was a way to deal with it.

The Zhuge Clan, renowned as the finest in the world at mechanisms and formations, possessed a formation called the Demon-Sealing Formation. As its name suggested, it could suppress and seal magical power.

When a “rift” had opened at Dongting Lake, the Zhuge Clan had managed to contain it with the Demon-Sealing Formation, led by their Family Head, Zhuge Feng. That was why the incident had been brought to an end without even greater losses.

If they can stop a rift, they should be able to neutralize a Moving Formation, too. I’ve seen the Demon-Sealing Formation myself, so I know it works. The problem is time and manpower.

The world was vast.

And no one knew how many Moving Formations Dark Heaven had built somewhere in that boundless sea of sand.

We’d found a way to deal with them well over half a year ago, yet several sects near Shanxi Province had still hesitated to send reinforcements, even for a short while. That alone showed how serious the risk was.

Even if just one Moving Formation remained, it would be like a sharp shard of glass, digging deep into the sole of someone walking carelessly across the sand.

That’s why we have to travel overland.

Qinghai had been a battlefield whenever foreign invaders came over the centuries. The Murim Alliance would have prepared the best defenses it could.

Those defenses wouldn’t be so flimsy that half a day—or even a full day—would make the difference between holding and falling.

Tibet should be reasonably safe, too. Even if the Potala Palace has joined hands with Dark Heaven, the forces stationed in Sichuan should be able to hold out.

The Sichuan Tang Clan, which the Western Heaven Demon Lord had targeted personally, had suffered tremendous losses. But Qingcheng and Emei were still intact.

And some unexpected guests were staying in Sichuan as well.

The Nanman Beast Palace.

Though we’d left in a hurry with a long road ahead, I’d heard news of them from time to time.

The warriors of the tropics had finally left their jungle in an unprecedented mass migration. They’d readily accepted the Murim Alliance’s request and were now defending Sichuan.

“The western front will have made preparations to some extent. Except in one place.”

I wasn’t speaking to Hyuk Mujin alone.

After finishing my train of thought, I suddenly spoke. I looked around at the Fire Dragon Pavilion members riding alongside me, then added quietly,

“Gansu.”

“……!”

“……!”

“If Dark Heaven goes against everyone’s expectations and targets Gansu, that’s where the biggest battle of this war will be fought.”

That was no exaggeration.

Dark Heaven had always found ways to catch us off guard.

Thanks to the efforts of countless people, myself included, who’d practically shit ourselves trying to stop them, their schemes had been thwarted time and again. But that didn’t mean the Murim Alliance had gained the upper hand in this war.

No. It would be more accurate to say Dark Heaven had been toying with us.

Shutting the stable door after the horse has bolted.

If we’d caught the arsonist before he set fire to the stable, that would have been a victory.

But the stable had burned every time, and countless people had been slaughtered like livestock.

As the person who’d repeatedly run around dousing the stables wherever I went, I was sick and tired of all of it.

So…

This time, we have to stop them. No matter what.

Before another fire started. Before there were more terrible losses.

We had to be cautious, then cautious again. Test the stone bridge before crossing it. I needed to see the situation in Gansu with my own eyes before moving on to Qinghai.

That was the biggest reason I’d chosen the land route over the slightly faster, more comfortable water route.

And this choice should be a lot more reassuring for him, too.

I glanced at one man.

Half a day had passed since we left the Jin Family of Taiyuan, and Sama Pyo still hadn’t said a word. He simply held his reins in silence.

He’d always been taciturn, but lately it had grown more pronounced.

No wonder. If Dark Heaven’s army is crossing the deserts of Xinjiang right now, his family could be in danger.

Along with the Kongtong Sect, one of the Nine Sects and One Gang, the Black Dragon Demon Gate was one of the two powers that divided Gansu Province between them.

As the Black Dragon Demon Gate’s Young Sect Leader, Sama Pyo was bound to have a lot on his mind. All the more so after hearing what Jeok Cheongang and I had just said.

But I didn’t try to console him.

Comfort was a luxury in a situation like this. When our eyes met, Sama Pyo gave me a slight, silent nod. I looked away and tightened my grip on the reins.

“Hyah!”

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

The grassland horses, said to surpass even sweat-blood horses in endurance, galloped on without a trace of fatigue.

Night and day passed once more, and the moon and sun crossed paths overhead.

Three days swept by like the wind. We left Shanxi Province and reached the border between Shaanxi and Gansu.

“Stop. We’ll rest here for half a shichen.²”

The man who suddenly spoke, bringing everyone to a halt, appeared to be around sixty. He was slender, with strikingly narrow eyes.

Of course, the several hundred people following him knew appearances didn’t tell the whole story.

Just as what they saw with their eyes wasn’t all there was, the old man had lived far longer than he looked. Only his formidable martial prowess could account for it.

Great age and formidable skill.

Of everyone present, only one person could refuse an order from a man who possessed both.

“A rest, out of nowhere? What on earth do you mean, Eldest Senior Brother?”

A half-white-haired Daoist in a clean robe hurried over, looking confused. The old man answered without a care.

“This old body of mine is giving me trouble. I can’t go any farther, so I thought we’d rest for half a shichen. Is there a problem?”

“Eldest Senior Brother!”

“Lower your voice, Junior Brother Sect Leader. How can you be so rude to Eldest Senior Brother?”

Someone else had cut in. The graying Daoist turned toward the reproachful voice and sighed.

“Why are you doing this too, Senior Brother? It’s been two days since we left the main sect, and we still haven’t reached Gansu. You both know that…”

“Enough.”

The man he’d called Senior Brother—an old Daoist with a luxuriant white beard that made him look like an immortal—raised a hand to cut him off.

“What can we do? Our bodies have grown weak. There’s a limit to how far we can travel. Eldest Senior Brother and I are disappointed in you, Junior Brother Sect Leader.”

“What do you mean?”

“After spending so long recuperating, your two Senior Brothers have only just become able to get around again. Why must you rush us?”

The graying Daoist’s lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but no words came. He turned away.

Even if he had spoken his mind, the outcome would probably have been much the same.

At that very moment, pounding hooves rang through the deserted forest.

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

Several grassland horses burst through the rising cloud of dust. They spotted the group halted in the middle of the forest path and began to slow.

More precisely, they slowed when they saw the flag rising above the group.

The Great Zhongnan Sect.

From atop his panting grassland horse, the young man riding in front read the characters embroidered in a single flowing stroke and muttered under his breath,

“I think there’s a typo…”