Chapter 79 - Stratagem of Discord
The weather was erratic. Torrential rain poured down, only for the sun to break through, and before long, another downpour would unleash itself. Yeon-hoo stared at the clouds blanketing the upper reaches of the mountain range, lost in thought.
‘A frontal assault is impossible. If even one of us gets hurt, it’ll be our loss.’
He needed to find the best way to cross the mountains without casualties. But it wasn’t easy. Unless he sprouted wings like a bird, getting this many troops—past a chokepoint guarded by two of the White Night Eight Great Families—was next to impossible.
Meanwhile, the others watched Yeon-hoo in silence, each pondering their own solutions.
Akso glanced at Cheol-u. “No way around a frontal push, right?”
“Correct.”
“I think the same.”
Dongbang Ri and Sama Song remained silent. They trusted Yeon-hoo to find the optimal path.
Akso muttered while eyeing the mountains. “Should’ve made them come to us here...”
The two allies they were set to rendezvous with waited beyond those peaks.
Cheol-u watched Yeon-hoo. ‘With my lord’s temperament, he’d charge straight through without a second thought...’
The Yeon-hoo he knew would opt for the direct approach without hesitation. Yet here he was, deliberating far longer than expected. It felt strange, almost unfamiliar.
Then, Yeon-hoo turned.
All eyes fixed on him with anticipation.
Sama Song asked, “Have you found a way, my lord?”
“We’ll use a stratagem of discord.”
“A stratagem of... discord?”
“This situation might actually be an opportunity for us. Naturally, we should seize the advantage, don’t you think?”
“Damn it all. Chasing some ghost we don’t even know where he went, and for what? Making all these troops suffer like dogs.”
“Tell me about it. If they haven’t found him by now, he’s probably crossed into White Night Cartel territory already. But the elder’s terrified of getting chewed out by the patriarch, so here we are. Ptoo! If that old fart had treated us right, I wouldn’t say shit like this. Damn it.”
“Watch your mouths, you idiots. If someone hears, we’re all done for!”
The Northwest Murim experts mobilized to capture Yeon-hoo vented their frustrations. The heavenly net had long since unraveled. Yet An-gong refused to give up, pulling in every available force and stationing them at the mountain passes leading to Baekya-beol.
He was convinced anyone heading from the North to Baekya-beol had to pass through here. A detour would add too much distance, making it impossible to attend the grand assembly on time. With the cartel’s event starting tomorrow, they had to show today—that much An-gong was certain.
His meeting with Son Geon of Hwangha Suryeon—someone he’d never gotten along with—was to prevent clashes between their overlapping deployments and discuss joint operations if Yeon-hoo appeared.
But Son Geon proved far stingier and greedier than expected. He demanded a fortune for any cooperation.
‘This bastard...’
An-gong seethed inwardly but had no choice. With his fate on the line, he’d play along for now.
Still, he had no intention of yielding completely.
“Ten thousand nyang is too much. Let’s settle at one thousand.”
“We lost dozens of men, plus three massive ships that cost a fortune to build. Don’t bring up nonsense if you want a discount.”
“Listen, Son Protector.”
“Don’t make me repeat myself. Or I’ll take my leave.”
An-gong swallowed his rising killing intent. Killing Son Geon would be child’s play. But it risked turning Hwangha Suryeon into enemies needlessly, so he endured.
“Fine. But I decide the troop positions.”
“Why change positions?”
“Your forces are scattered across key passes, messing up our formations. To lead the operation, we need to reposition first.”
“Very well. Hm. Draw up the deployment map, then. I’ll have my men adjust accordingly.”
“One moment.”
An-gong headed toward his subordinates. Son Geon’s eyes gleamed with malice as he watched the retreating figure.
‘No matter how green he is, the head of the North’s future is worth more than ten million gold. You think I’d hand him over for a measly ten thousand silver?’
Then—
“Protector!”
Two Hwangha Suryeon warriors raced toward him like the wind.
“What is it?!”
“Well...”
The warrior switched to sound transmission.
“Just now, Northwest bastards attacked two of our passes, slaughtering over fifty of our men before fleeing!”
“...What?!”
Son Geon’s face twisted in fury.
“Elder!”
An-gong’s aide rushed up in panic. An-gong, waiting for brush and ink, turned.
“Has he shown?”
“No... Just now, Hwangha Suryeon attacked several of our guarded passes, butchering over fifty before fleeing.”
“What?!”
“Survivors say they mocked the elder council leader’s assassination, claiming we couldn’t catch the North’s lord even if we died and revived—so get lost!”
An-gong’s face flushed with rage. But he fought to stay composed.
“Could be a spontaneous clash. Contact all passes—order no engagements with Hwangha Suryeon, under any circumstances.”
“Reconsider, sir. How could underlings act without orders? Even if accidental, we must demand answers!”
“You dare lecture me now?”
“That’s not—”
“Do as I say!”
“...Understood.”
The aide headed to the messenger birds, glaring murderously at distant Son Geon. Relatives of his had died in the attack.
Not just him—nearby warriors who’d overheard glowered coldly at Son Geon’s position.
“Should’ve never teamed with those river-rat scum from the start.”
“Fucking dogs. Attacking us Northwest folk without balls... At this point, why not lop off that bastard’s head first?”
Meanwhile, Son Geon—watching An-gong after the report—noted the shifted mood and hardened his gaze.
“So they finally show their true colors.”
“Protector, we must withdraw now. Delay, and we’ll regret it forever.”
Grind.
“Fall back.”
Whoosh!
Son Geon leaped first, followed by his Hwangha Suryeon elites.
A Northwest Murim warrior shouted, “Elder! They’re fleeing!”
Then—
Clang!
“Argh!”
“Gah!”
Son Geon and his men slaughtered several Northwest guards at the escape route. Fresh from scouting, they were mistaken for blockers.
An-gong, turning at the death cries, flushed deeper with bewilderment.
‘How did it spiral like this...’
Flash!
“Gurk!”
A beam of light severed two necks. Invisible attacks threw the Northwest experts and warriors into panic.
“Hold formation!”
“Stay in position!”
Despite shouts, another flash claimed two more heads.
“Tell the elder—the North’s lord has appeared! Hurry!”
A middle-aged man yelled urgently, assuming Yeon-hoo’s group was behind the ambushes.
Then, two yellow-robed figures emerged ghost-like from the shadows.
Someone spotted the black skull emblem on their left chests. “Hwangha Suryeon!”
“What?!”
“Heh heh heh. You lot always looked down on us as river rats. Figured we’d test how great you really are... What a pathetic mess.”
“...So you attacked other spots too?!”
“Eh, couldn’t kill many. They bolted like cowards before we could fight.”
“Ridiculous. Mocking us with that trash skillset. Heh heh heh.”
“You bastards! Do you even grasp the gravity of what you’ve done?!”
The two yellow-robes bared teeth in laughter at the middle-aged man’s threat.
“Worst case? War. Which is exactly what we want. Honestly, tired of scraping by on rivers like you said.”
“Damn right. Time we claim fertile Central Plains turf like you. For our wives and kids’ future. Heh heh heh.”
At the same time, identical scenes unfolded at Hwangha Suryeon sites. Northwest attacks killed over a hundred across four spots.
Hwangha Suryeon’s famously vicious warriors were helpless against overwhelming might. Yet they didn’t retreat—charging for mutual destruction.
But they crumpled before closing in, repeatedly.
“Northwest... these mad fuckers dare.”
“This means war, bastards!”
“Shouldn’t have messed with us. River trash thinking they can play with the big boys. Heh heh heh.”
“Shut it, you dog!”
Scree!
Thud!
“Arrrgh!”
The leader’s head exploded in gruesome death. Only then did Hwangha Suryeon warriors falter backward.
Two black-robe figures appeared before them.
“B-Black Ghosts...”
They wore garb like Northwest Murim’s dreaded Black Cloaks.
Of course, one was Yeon-hoo, the other Baek-un. They’d slain two real Black Cloaks en route and donned their robes.
“My lord, look over there.”
Baek-un pointed left. Son Geon was leaping into the area.
Dongbang Ri and Sama Song sat out the operation—Yeon-hoo’s order.
Perhaps because of that, Dongbang Ri felt sour. She took it as doubt in her abilities.
Sama Song soothed her. “The patriarch worries for your safety. Don’t take it to heart.”
“I’m not mad at my lord—it’s myself I’m angry with. Guess I really can’t help after all.”
Dongbang Ri stepped to the cliff edge. Flashes flickered everywhere; screams rode the wind to them.
If she were stronger, she’d be down there now.
Whoosh!
A gust from below clawed her body.
Then, a faint energy pricked her senses. Simultaneously, Sama Song drew his sword behind her.
Shing!