Chapter 241
Chapter 241
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 241
Chapter Title: Chapter 6. The Road is Long, but the Steps are Sluggish (1)
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Shaolin Temple was visited by guests after Dam Ho departed.
"Welcome, Strategist Namgung."
"I'm sorry for being late."
The one whom Abbot Gwangcheon of Shaolin greeted warmly was Namgung Chang, the Strategist of the Murim Alliance. He had arrived late, leading warriors of the Murim Alliance.
"You must have had a hard journey coming all this way."
"How could upholding the justice of the martial world be called hardship? I'm only sorry for arriving late."
Namgung Chang bowed deeply.
Behind him stood over two thousand Murim Alliance warriors lined up in formation. Exhaustion filled their faces, but their eyes shone with vigor.
They were all elites drafted by Namgung Chang from the Murim Alliance. Gwangcheon greeted them as well.
"Amitabha! You have toiled on the long road. Rest today, though you must be weary."
"We thank you for your consideration."
The Murim Alliance warriors shouted in unison.
Their voices echoed thunderously across Mount Song. In response, the Shaolin monks and the earlier arrivals among the gathered heroes cheered wildly.
"The Murim Alliance reinforcements have arrived!"
"Waaaaah!"
The massive roar kicked up dust from the training grounds, blotting out the sun high in the sky. Startled birds took flight, and beasts fled in all directions, creating a spectacular scene.
With the Murim Alliance warriors joining them, morale soared to the heavens. Sensing this, Gwangcheon smiled quietly.
"Amitabha! I was a bit uneasy with Hero Dam having left, but with the elites of the Murim Alliance joining us like this, I feel truly secure."
"Hero Dam? Do you mean the Fist Demon?"
Namgung Chang's voice rose involuntarily.
He was an extremely rational man, but matters involving Dam Ho always excited him. It was inevitable. Every incident linked to Dam Ho had brought massive losses without any proper justification.
Even Namgung Cheon, the family head of the Namgung Clan, had died at Dam Ho's hands. They were mortal enemies who could not coexist under the same sky, yet the urgent state of the martial world left him no choice but to let Dam Ho be—for now—which was utterly frustrating.
Gwangcheon closed his eyes, sensing the hostility in Namgung Chang's voice. He knew of the bad blood between Dam Ho and the Namgung Clan.
Under normal circumstances, Shaolin would side with the Namgung Clan. But these were chaotic times. With every bit of strength needed, he could not turn an absolute expert like Dam Ho into an enemy over personal grudges.
"When was the Fist Demon here?"
"He came a few days ago and left two days ago."
"Two days ago."
Namgung Chang's gaze darkened deeply.
"He's already gone, Strategist Namgung. Don't trouble yourself over it."
"I suppose so."
"You are wise as expected. Rather than standing here, let's go inside."
"Go ahead first. I'll settle these men and follow."
Namgung Chang gestured to the warriors who had come with him. Gwangcheon nodded.
"Understood. Handle your affairs and come in at your leisure."
"Thank you for your understanding, Sect Leader."
"Not at all. Then..."
Gwangcheon offered a formal bow to Namgung Chang before entering first.
Namgung Chang summoned his officers and ordered them to lead the troops to their lodgings.
The officers moved with crisp efficiency. The Murim Alliance forces that had filled the vast training grounds soon dispersed, leaving Namgung Chang alone.
He stood unmoving in the center of the grounds, his face etched with anguish.
'Fist Demon.'
The name stuck in his throat like a thorn, ever pricking at him.
Namgung Chang was blood kin of the Namgung Clan before he was the Murim Alliance Strategist. He wrestled between his cool rationality as a public figure and his private emotions as a direct descendant.
After long deliberation, a resolute light finally appeared on Namgung Chang's face.
He called out to someone.
"Jinhong."
"Yes! Strategist!"
With the response, a middle-aged warrior appeared abruptly and knelt on one knee before him.
His name was Namgung Jinhong, a warrior dispatched from the Namgung Clan to assist Namgung Chang.
"Track the Fist Demon's movements. He hasn't been gone long, so it shouldn't be hard to find him."
"And once I do?"
"Inform... inform the Demonic Cult of his whereabouts."
Startled, Namgung Jinhong looked up sharply.
"That's dangerous. We might burn down the whole house to catch one louse."
He loathed Dam Ho to the bone as well. But he thought this was going too far.
Namgung Chang was resolute.
"Do it. Anonymously, and there will be no issue."
"Are you serious?"
"Yes."
"Under...stood."
In the end, Namgung Jinhong replied with a helpless expression.
He vanished as suddenly as he had appeared, leaving Namgung Chang to mutter softly alone.
"You and the Namgung Clan can never coexist under the same sky. Never!"
***
"Hua!"
Bang Jinbo gaped in awe.
Before them flowed a river of immense scale. Its muddy yellow waters churned massive waves, surging with terrifying momentum as if to sweep away all under heaven.
The place they beheld was the Three Gate Gorge where the Yellow River flowed. Between Shaanxi and Henan Provinces, the Yellow River split around three large islands, each gorge named Divine Gate, Ghost Gate, and Human Gate. Together, they were called the Three Gate Gorge.
Bang Jinbo was utterly entranced by the Yellow River's grandeur. He had seen the Yangtze before, but the Yellow River felt entirely different. Mingled with yellow silt swept from the western plateau, its waters were a uniform ochre. This made it seem even more majestic and primal.
Muk Ilgwang approached Dam Ho.
"To reach Shaanxi Province, we must cross the Yellow River."
"How?"
"I've arranged a boat upstream at the Three Gate Gorge."
"A boat?"
"There are Green Forest brothers here too. I sent a messenger pigeon ahead, instructing them to prepare a vessel for crossing the river."
Muk Ilgwang replied confidently.
The influence of the Eighteen Green Forest Strongholds extended not just to mountains but to rivers as well. River pirates existed on the waters, and they answered to the Eighteen Strongholds.
On the Yellow River was the Yellow Demon Stronghold. Not quite on the scale of the Eighteen, but it was the largest force among the river pirates operating there.
Ascending upstream from the Three Gate Gorge, the Yellow Demon pirates had a fast cutter waiting.
A burly middle-aged man, seemingly in his late forties, approached Dam Ho's group and cupped his fists.
"Welcome. I am Jang Sanwu, stronghold chief of the Yellow Demon Stronghold, known as Yellow Ghost Dragon. It is an honor to meet Hero Dam."
Admiration filled Jang Sanwu's eyes as he looked at Dam Ho. Nor was he alone—the Yellow Demon warriors aboard the cutter all gazed up at Dam Ho with reverence.
Dam Ho was the benefactor of the Eighteen Green Forest Strongholds. Thanks to him, Hwang Kyungmun had survived, and the Strongholds endured. Knowing this, their eyes burned with fervor.
Muk Ilgwang grinned at Jang Sanwu.
"Brother! Am I invisible or something? This hurts my feelings."
"Oh! Brother Muk is here too."
Jang Sanwu finally noticed Muk Ilgwang and brightened.
The two men embraced heartily.
Muk Ilgwang had operated out of the Yellow Demon Stronghold in his youth. Jang Sanwu had been an ordinary pirate then.
Time passed: Muk Ilgwang became a key figure serving the chief of the Eighteen Strongholds, Hwang Kyungmun, while Jang Sanwu rose to lead the Yellow Demon Stronghold. Their special bond made the reunion joyful.
Jang Sanwu grabbed Muk Ilgwang's hand.
"We'll talk aboard. Time is pressing."
"Pressing how?"
Jang Sanwu's gaze turned to Dam Ho.
"You haven't heard yet?"
"......"
"I figured. Southern Shaanxi is in an uproar right now."
Dam Ho's eyes narrowed at Jang Sanwu's words.
They had ridden without rest since leaving Shaolin, leaving no chance to hear news.
"The Zhongnan Sect has suffered heavy losses."
"Zhongnan Sect?"
"Yes! Half their leadership is gone. No one in the world knows yet. We nearly missed it ourselves, if not for the spy we planted there."
"Tell me in detail."
"Board first. I'll explain aboard."
"Mm."
Dam Ho nodded and boarded. Bang Jinbo and Muk Ilgwang followed, loading Black Ghost and the other horses.
The fully loaded cutter set off into the yellow rapids. The violent currents rocked it fiercely, as if it might capsize any moment. But the Yellow Demon pirates handled it without a hint of panic. Thanks to their near-miraculous skill, the vessel soon stabilized and sped upstream.
Only then did Jang Sanwu catch his breath and approach Dam Ho.
"Where was I?"
"You said half the Zhongnan leadership was wiped out."
Muk Ilgwang answered.
Jang Sanwu nodded and continued.
"And all because of a single absolute expert."
"One man?"
Muk Ilgwang blinked in surprise.
The Zhongnan Sect was one of the Nine Great Sects. It boasted dozens of famed masters and hundreds more unknown ones, plus countless inner and outer disciples—enough to claim lordship over Shaanxi. It was hard to believe such a force had been bloodied by one person.
"Yes, one man. An elder of indeterminable age who called himself Cheon O-gyeong."
"Cheon... O-gyeong."
Muk Ilgwang tilted his head.
"Right! First time hearing it? Me too. Anyway, his name isn't the point. The issue is one man took out half their leadership—even when they ganged up on him..."
Muk Ilgwang's jaw dropped in shock.
His gaze instinctively turned to Dam Ho, whose expression remained largely unchanged despite the astonishing tale.
'Well, Brother wouldn't be fazed by this much.'
Jang Sanwu pressed on.
"Even more shocking: before fighting the Zhongnan leaders, that elder had already killed Hundred Battles Sect Leader Jang Ilsan."
"Hundred Battles Sect? Was there one there?"
Dam Ho spoke for the first time.
"Yes. It seems Leader Jang and some disciples had fled to Zhongnan for refuge."
"Some?"
"Yes! After Hero Yeom Jung-hwa died in Sakju, Zhongnan took heavy damage."
Losing a giant like Yeom Jung-hwa left Zhongnan's disciples like fledglings without a mother. Fearing annihilation from enemy attacks during retreat, Hundred Battles Sect Leader Jang Ilsan had stepped up to protect them.
"What of Cho Yeon-un? Didn't he ascend Mount Zhongnan with them?"
"I don't know details, but young hero Cho was badly wounded and lacked the stamina to reach the mountain."
"Then?"
"I think he went to Huashan Sect."
"Mm!"
A faint groan escaped Dam Ho's lips for the first time, a subtle relief flickering in his eyes.
Jang Ilsan's death was regrettable, but to Dam Ho, Cho Yeon-un mattered more.
"Huashan Sect, you say?"
"That's the only conclusion for now."
"Doesn't ascending the Yellow River from Three Gate Gorge lead straight to Huayin County?"
"Correct. Are you heading to Huashan Sect?"
"Mm!"
"Full speed to Huayin, and we'll arrive in two days."
Dam Ho nodded, and Jang Sanwu issued orders.
"Hero Dam is going to Huayin County. Halt the crossing and turn bow toward Huayin!"
"Yes!"
The pirates responded vigorously and pivoted the vessel.
Despite the sudden command, no one objected. To them, Dam Ho was equal to Chief Hwang Kyungmun.
'The Fist Demon is on our boat!'
Their hearts pounded.
Mere river pirates though they were, Dam Ho was a famed warrior of the jianghu. Feared and called Fist Demon, to these strength-worshipping pirates, he was a godlike figure.
The crew poured every ounce of effort into the oars. Cleaving the churning rapids, the cutter surged upstream.
The fierce waves tossed it wildly, threatening to overturn. Yet Dam Ho stood firm at the prow, rooted as if glued in place.
'Brother!'
Bang Jinbo and Muk Ilgwang watched him from behind.
Two days. A fleeting moment to some, but to Dam Ho now, it felt endlessly long.