Between Peace and Turmoil (7)
The Shadow God Yayul Jeok’s assassination plot, far beyond anyone’s imagination, was brought to a close with minimal casualties thanks to the combined efforts of the Uijeong Army, the Beggars’ Sect, and the unexpected arrival of reinforcements.
Of course, many officials still lost their lives. The death toll reached twenty-nine, and every one of them had held important posts in Guangdong’s administration and public security.
Yet the twelve most critical figures at the very heart of the province survived. Yeon Hojeong and the hidden masters of Foshan had acted swiftly enough to stop the assassins at the final moment.
Thus the operation to minimize chaos in Guangdong achieved only half-success. The damage was severe, but if Left Governor Jong Myeong and the officials of the Provincial Military Command worked together, they could restore order to the province in short order.
The losses, however, were not confined to Guangdong alone.
The Tangma Army under the Uijeong Army had suffered grievously. The troops who seized Night Castle and fought the enemy had lost nearly half their number.
It was a staggering toll. Given the strength of the Shadow Cult, some casualties had been expected from the outset, yet the blow struck both Moyong Woo and Yeon Hojeong to the bone.
Still, considering the numbers and skill of the Shadow Cult assassins, ending the battle with only that level of sacrifice was itself a remarkable achievement. Moreover, the assassins had been thoroughly familiar with Night Castle’s terrain. To have held them at such a cost was worthy of praise.
Yes, it had been a fine victory. The numbers alone proved it. But the hearts of those who belonged to the army could never see it that way.
A mission that had brought heavy losses and deep wounds from every angle.
Yet the matter was far from over.
“Are you all right?”
“I am.”
Ga Deuk-sang let out a quiet sigh as he studied Moyong Woo’s face.
“My condolences. Our intelligence unit’s delayed response played a part in the Tangma Army’s casualties.”
Moyong Woo shook his head.
“Do not say that. You did everything you could, Junior Beggar. Not only you—everyone did. Who could we blame for this operation? We all gave our best. We all risked our lives.”
“Huu.”
Ga Deuk-sang would normally have tried to lighten the mood, but no amount of effort could make the moment feel right.
He spoke again, carefully.
“How is the atmosphere in the Tangma Army?”
Moyong Woo answered honestly.
“It is not good.”
“……”
“That is only natural.”
“I have always believed our Tangma Army to be a well-trained force. But inexperience cannot be helped. That inexperience includes the loss of comrades.”
“……”
“I have always known that one day my men—and I myself—would fall to an enemy blade. There was a time when I tried not to grow attached to them.”
Moyong Woo looked up at the sky. Today it seemed especially dark.
“But that is not how people live. When you do not know when you will lose someone, you must cherish them all the more and create good memories together.”
“You are right.”
“Before we marched, we exchanged our final words with one another. We will do so again. That is the duty of every warrior in the Martial Alliance’s regular forces, and the fate of every martial artist who belongs to a combat unit.”
In times of turmoil, everyone stakes their life day after day.
Yet those who belong to an organization lay down their lives not for themselves, but for orders. Whether for a greater cause or otherwise, few people truly live only for themselves.
That made the sorrow all the deeper.
“I hear the Beggars’ Sect also suffered heavy losses.”
“As you said, it is our fate.”
In that regard, Ga Deuk-sang was far senior to Moyong Woo.
Every day for a Beggars’ Sect disciple was a chain of missions. Death could come without warning, and finding time to cultivate was nearly impossible.
Ga Deuk-sang had endured countless such deaths to reach his current position.
“By the way, how are the men looking at us?”
“What do you mean?”
Ga Deuk-sang smacked his lips.
“This was the first mission the Tangma Army received after its founding. The Myeolsa Army suffered almost no losses, yet the Tangma Army…”
Moyong Woo gave a small laugh.
“Since I cannot read every heart, I cannot give you a definite answer. But there is one thing I can say with certainty.”
“……?”
“There is no fool in the Tangma Army under my command who would shift the blame for our own losses onto others.”
Ga Deuk-sang shook his head.
“Reality may differ. The mind may understand, but the heart does not always follow.”
“If a soldier cannot even manage that much, he has no right to remain in a regular army unit. Should any of my men truly harbor such thoughts, I will demand their immediate discharge.”
“Then that is a relief.”
Even as he said it, Moyong Woo could not be certain that none of his men resented Yeon Hojeong.
As Ga Deuk-sang had said, human hearts were never so simple. No matter how much one tried to reason, becoming a victim made calm thought impossible.
‘We must overcome this.’
No matter how exceptional Yeon Hojeong’s abilities were, he could never perfectly read every hidden intention.
His vision for grand strategy had reached the pinnacle of the Central Plains, yet once battle began, responding flawlessly to the endless variables that erupted moment by moment was never easy. Even someone greater than Yeon Hojeong would face the same difficulty.
Moyong Woo sighed.
“In any case, has the situation in Guangdong been settled for now?”
“Only halfway.”
“Halfway?”
“Yeon Dae-su’s mission was never simply to eliminate the Shadow God Yayul Jeok. The order from above was to stabilize the entire province of Guangdong.”
Moyong Woo’s eyes deepened.
“I never heard him mention that.”
“There was no need. It would not have mattered if you knew, but there was also no reason you had to know.”
“True enough.”
“I expect the Tangma Army will be left to reorganize for the time being. The rest will be handled by Yeon Dae-su and the Myeolsa Army.”
A question appeared on Moyong Woo’s face.
“By the way, where is the Dae-su now? I have not seen him since yesterday.”
“Ah, about that.”
Ga Deuk-sang scratched his head, looking troubled.
“Something unexpected has come up.”
“Yeon Gongja.”
“Oh, you are here.”
Thud!
Yeon Hojeong set down the Mad Dragon Axe and wiped the sweat from his brow.
“Are you training?”
“Something has been bothering me. I felt I had to deal with it now or never.”
Muk Bi’s eyes grew solemn.
She was one of the people who knew Yeon Hojeong best. She could tell he felt deeply responsible for the deaths of his subordinates.
But training? Now?
Muk Bi spoke plainly.
“One mission may be over, but you said the next one remains.”
“I know.”
Muk Bi stared at him in silence before speaking again.
“You have not even visited the Tangma Army yet, have you?”
“So?”
“……”
“Moyong will handle it.”
“Even so, should you not go? So many people died.”
“Now is not the time.”
“……”
Yeon Hojeong’s expression was remarkably calm—too calm for a commander who had lost his men.
After studying his face for a long moment, Muk Bi nodded.
“Very well. Then give me the next mission.”
“I will inform you when the time comes. Until then, rest and recover. Your internal and external injuries have not healed yet.”
“That is not what matters right now.”
“It is the most important thing.”
“What?”
Yeon Hojeong looked Muk Bi straight in the eye.
“The mission is not over. Our future path may be even more dangerous. Even if it were not a mission, we cannot know when or where an enemy might appear.”
“……”
“Maintaining peak physical condition is the bare minimum for anyone in an organization. If you want to fulfill your role no matter the situation, you must first preserve your own combat strength. That comes first.”
“Yeon Gongja.”
“Death can come at any time, anywhere. The Myeolsa Army could vanish completely tomorrow. That is the way of the martial world. That is the way of the world.”
Yeon Hojeong lifted the Mad Dragon Axe and slung it over his shoulder.
“Go and tend to your body. I will issue new orders tonight.”
With those words, Yeon Hojeong walked away.
Watching his retreating back, Muk Bi murmured softly.
“Yeon Gongja… I thought I knew you well, yet sometimes I do not understand you at all.”
The place Yeon Hojeong headed after leaving the temporary quarters was a remote mountain.
Whooooooosh.
Yeon Hojeong wandered without a set path, glancing here and there, when he suddenly felt a powerful, resonant energy rising.
It was calling to him. He immediately turned toward it.
A short while later—
“You have come.”
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes lit up.
There stood Beom-oh, standing respectfully, and beside him an old man seated at ease.
The old man’s appearance was truly peculiar.
His age was impossible to guess. At a glance he looked well past eighty, yet his white teeth and mischievous expression made him seem forty years younger.
His hair stood out like a lion’s mane, and his clothes were so filthy their original color could not be determined. They might once have been monk’s robes, but even that was uncertain.
The old man spoke with a playful face.
“Hah, in all my life I have never expected respect from others, but even so, is it proper to greet an elder without so much as a word?”
“Who said you were my elder?”
“Hmm?”
“I do not know who you are. I have no intention of treating as a senior some eccentric who suddenly interfered in our mission, threatened people at will, and then ran off.”
Beom-oh shouted.
“Yeon Dae-su! Mind your words! This person is—”
“Enough.”
The old man raised a hand to stop Beom-oh.
“Heh heh, there have been various misunderstandings. But calling it a threat? That is going too far.”
“If that was not a threat, then what was it?”
“It was not.”
What was this childish response?
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes narrowed.
“You said that if I did not come at this hour, the government offices of Guangdong would be reduced to rubble. If that was not a threat, what was it?”
“Heh heh heh.”
“You may not need to know this, but I will speak plainly. I am holding back a great deal right now. If Beom-oh had not shown you such respect, I would already have split your skull with my axe.”
Beom-oh spoke in a strained voice.
“Yeon Dae-su. This person is someone neither you nor anyone in the Martial Alliance may treat lightly…”
“Over two hundred of my subordinates died in this operation.”
“……!”
“I could not even apologize to the dead or tell them to resent me. Do you know why? Because I sensed something was wrong. Because of your existence, and because of the ominous feeling that the remaining mission will be far more difficult.”
The old man could no longer smile. He merely watched Yeon Hojeong with deep, solemn eyes.
Yeon Hojeong’s gaze grew colder by the moment.
“I will have no more word games. Do not expect any respect as a senior. Explain why you summoned me and why you made that statement before running off. If you try to waste time without a proper explanation, I will not spare you—or Beom-oh.”