There's No Such Thing as a Peaceful Trade Journey (4)
“Master Myeong, if you were going to hide it, you should have hidden it thoroughly.”
“I did my best! But how could I possibly conceal it completely when that massive secret vault collapsed in its entirety?!”
If a vault that large had collapsed, it made sense. Unless it was in some remote wilderness, word was bound to spread no matter what.
Such a commotion had erupted, and someone must have seen Master Myeong fleeing—or perhaps one of his subordinates had betrayed him.
Betrayal upon betrayal. This was the Central Plains, all right.
“Hand over the manual and I’ll spare your life!”
“As if.”
It was obvious they planned to slaughter everyone to silence them. There was no way they’d let anyone live.
Judging by the killing intent rolling off them, these were definitely unorthodox sect members. Their swagger alone gave it away.
“Elder Baek, do you know where the Geumyeongmun is based?”
“They’re an unorthodox sect operating out of Mubong County, just north of Seomun Prefecture. I’ve heard their leader, Geumyeongmun, wields the Swift Sword technique called Flash Lightning Sword as his specialty. Word was he recently reached the Peak realm, but I never expected to see him here…”
“Geumyeongmun… is that his name?”
“It’s both his name and the sect’s name.”
Couldn’t be bothered to come up with two names, apparently.
Swift Sword, huh… One side had a swift sword, the other a swift saber. Plenty of people obsessed with speed in this world. Not that speed wasn’t useful.
From the looks of it, they were after the Eighteen Light Division Swords because it was a high-level swift sword art. Or maybe just because it was a high-level manual in general. Even if they couldn’t use it themselves, they could sell it for a fortune.
That aside, it was time to negotiate. I met Hajin’s eyes.
You handle it. I’ve already done my part just by sizing up the situation.
Hajin nodded and approached the sect leader, who looked like he could carry a tune.
“How did you know to ambush us?”
“Everyone who needed to know already knew that Master Myeong had obtained something valuable. We also heard it came from the land where the earthquake struck. We got the caravan’s route from the escort agency Master Myeong contacted and tracked you down.”
…I’d thought he was a sharp merchant, but he was an even bigger fool than expected. Classic Master Myeong. Never failed to disappoint.
“Surely you realize what you’re doing is no different from common bandits?”
“Who doesn’t know that? But if the potential gain outweighs the risk, it’s worth a try—especially when it’s a lost manual containing the supreme martial art of a once-great sect!”
They were willing to take the risk for a high-level manual. Even if they were outmatched individually, they probably figured their numbers gave them a chance.
“We are disciples of the Hainan Sword Sect.”
“We know that! No martial artist in Guangdong Province wouldn’t recognize the Hainan Sword Sect’s uniform!”
“And yet you still intend to make enemies of us?”
Hajin tried using the sect’s name to make them back off. Not a bad move. Since these were unorthodox fighters, no one would complain if they bullied a minor sect. Even if the Hainan Sword Sect was the weakest of the Nine Great Sects, it was still one of the Nine Great Sects. Minor sects couldn’t stand against them. No matter how many fighters they had, they couldn’t overcome the fundamental gap in martial arts.
The Hainan Thirty-Six Swords was a renowned supreme sword art. The Flash Lightning Sword, on the other hand, was something only their own people had probably heard of. As a typical minor sect, their martial arts couldn’t be particularly refined—though reaching the Peak realm meant it wasn’t completely worthless.
“But we have the numerical advantage! Even the Hainan Sword Sect can’t overcome such odds. And in these remote mountains… who would know if we buried you quietly?”
Convinced of their advantage, he openly mentioned silencing witnesses.
“You seem to have forgotten about us.”
“Cheol Muryeong of the Falling Sun Gate. Even combined, you number fewer than thirty. But we have over a hundred!”
Was that bluster or truth? From this angle, I might have miscounted.
“Most of them are second-class or below. Did you really think those weaklings could handle our Falling Sun Gate?”
“Numbers always win in the end. We’ve also raised quite a few experts while building our forces. We have at least twenty first-class masters!”
They knew they were outclassed in quality, so they were betting on quantity. With nearly three times the numbers, even a simple wheel tactic could become extremely dangerous.
“Are you so eager to shed blood? If you draw your swords, we won’t hesitate any longer.”
Hajin issued an ultimatum. It was a threat thrown out in the faint hope they might retreat. The Hainan Sword Sect’s reputation made it a fairly effective card.
But the response was a cold rejection.
“Everyone! Draw your blades!”
“So you’ve chosen punishment.”
Well, why not? I’d always wanted to say that line.
Ignoring the stares, I walked slowly toward Geumyeongmun. The sect leader regarded me with puzzled eyes as I appeared beside Hajin. In southern Guangdong, seeing foreigners involved in maritime trade wasn’t unusual, but a sect leader entrenched inland like Geumyeongmun would rarely encounter one. His reaction was understandable.
“A foreign warrior in the mix? Life never ceases to surprise.”
“Listen, Geumyeongmun of Geumyeongmun. We have no intention of handing over the Eighteen Light Division Swords. Turn back now if you don’t want to be cut in half.”
“Wait, the foreigner speaks the Central Plains tongue?”
Of all things, that was what surprised him?
“Does it matter whether I speak the Central Plains tongue or Eastern tongue? You came here ready to fight us, so you should be worrying about your own neck.”
I shrugged as if mocking him. Geumyeongmun’s temple twitched visibly at my dismissive reaction.
“Disciples of Geumyeongmun! Surround them! Don’t let a single rat escape!”
A thunderous roar shook the mountain path, startling birds into flight. The Geumyeongmun fighters began encircling both the Hainan Sword Sect and Falling Sun Gate disciples.
“We’re surrounded.”
“We won’t lose to unorthodox scum!”
“That’s right!”
The sound of swords being drawn behind us made both the Geumyeongmun fighters and the orthodox martial artists radiate killing intent. No one had engaged yet.
William calmly assessed the battlefield.
Numerically, we’re at a severe disadvantage. But in terms of individual skill, we hold the upper hand. We need a strategy that minimizes casualties.
What was the most dangerous emotion in war? Anyone who had experienced it would answer fear, nine times out of ten.
“Cheol Muryeong! Elder Baek! Young Hero Hajin! Step forward!”
At William’s call, the three Peak experts lined up beside him. The Hainan Sword Sect disciples obeyed without question, having witnessed his performance against the Demonic Cult. Cheol Muryeong followed out of concern for his own disciples.
“Sir Wi, what’s the plan?”
“We take the sect leader’s head. Quickly.”
Once the leader dies, they’ll be nothing but a disorganized mob.
Any group collapsed without its head—especially an unorthodox sect bound by looser ties than orthodox factions. That was why William intended to show no mercy.
“I’ll handle the sect leader—”
“No. All four of us will take his head.”
“What?”
“What did you just say?”
“What do you mean?”
Hajin and Elder Baek stared at him in shock. Targeting only one person with four Peak experts? But William explained his reasoning as if it were obvious.
“Once the sect leader dies, what meaning do the rest have? Do owls fear ants just because there are many of them?”
“Then why announce it loud enough for Geumyeongmun to hear?!”
At Elder Baek’s pointed remark, everyone turned to look at the sect leader. Geumyeongmun had realized he was now the target of four Peak experts and was sweating coldly.
Just who is that foreigner to speak so boldly? And why are the Hainan Sword Sect orthodox disciples actually listening to him?
“But…”
“Are your disciples’ lives more important, or is your honor?”
The most terrifying thing on a battlefield wasn’t a master. Even masters could fall to an unexpected stray blade. The Peak experts were relatively safe, but Mu-gwang, Hyeryeong, and the Falling Sun Gate disciples were not. They too understood that William’s proposal was the most efficient approach.
“Ahem…”
Elder Baek and Hajin glared at Geumyeongmun with reluctant expressions. Cheol Muryeong also seemed to agree, raising his saber and pointing it at the sect leader.
This is insane!
With the situation like this, Geumyeongmun couldn’t move recklessly. Most of his men were second-class or below; even gathered together, they couldn’t hope to block Peak experts. With four of them, any wrong move would see Geumyeongmun’s only Peak expert eliminated in an instant. In the martial world, where groups didn’t fight with military discipline, the value of a single expert was immense. The strategy of using numbers to tie down the experts and have the sect leader pick them off one by one was now impossible—especially since he led unorthodox ruffians rather than orthodox disciples.
“How shameless of so-called orthodox martial artists to gang up on someone!”
“Then you’re free to leave.”
Geumyeongmun had no retort to William’s reply and could only roll his eyes.
If those four charge me, I won’t last even one exchange! If I die, what good is the manual or anything else?
Unable to accept that his own carelessness had led to this, the foolish sect leader spat out curses.
“Damn it, you cowardly bastards… How can you call yourselves orthodox after this?!”
“If you want to have your head cleanly severed by these cowardly bastards and go meet the King of Hell, I won’t stop you.”
A crooked smile spread across William’s lips. The sight only deepened the crease between Geumyeongmun’s brows.
“If you’re going to fight, I’ll at least let you see the cover of the Eighteen Light Division Swords before you die.”
William quietly slipped a hand into his robe. All eyes turned to him. The Eighteen Light Division Swords manual—was it in the foreigner’s possession? Even those who knew it was a lie watched to see what he would do.
His hand slowly emerged from his robe. The manual that had once represented the Diancang Sect did not appear. Only an empty hand came out.
William snorted.
“Fooled you, didn’t I, Geumyeongmun?”
“Y-you son of a—!”
“I’ve shown you enough. Now leave. If you retreat now, you can preserve your forces. As long as you stay out of Seomun Prefecture, you can live comfortably. If you withdraw quietly, we’ll let this matter go. If not…”
Instead of finishing, he raised his thumb, flipped it halfway down, and drew it across his throat. It was a gesture no one had seen before, yet everyone understood its meaning without explanation.
Geumyeongmun gritted his teeth and turned away. He didn’t expect his unorthodox subordinates to shout about justice and avenge him like orthodox disciples would.
“Damn it! We’re leaving!”
These vicious bastards! Calling themselves orthodox while shamelessly planning to gang up on me!
The once-confident sect leader of Geumyeongmun had no choice but to swallow his tears and order a retreat under William’s ruthless threat.