Chapter 242
Chapter 242
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 242
Chapter Title: 6장. The Road is Long, but Our Steps are Slow (2)
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Sang Han-cheon stared at the map of Shaanxi Province hanging on the wall with deep, sunken eyes. Two red flags were pinned to the map.
"The two pillars of Shaanxi's murim are the Mount Hua Sect and the Zhongnan Sect."
Sang Han-cheon reached out and pulled out the red flag to the south. It marked the location of Zhongnan Mountain.
Crack!
The discarded flag was crushed beneath Sang Han-cheon's foot.
The Zhongnan Sect was one of the Nine Great Sects. Far from a lightweight name. Sang Han-cheon had to pay them special attention to deal with them. But now, he gave Zhongnan no further glance.
Half of the Zhongnan Sect's leadership was dead or injured. Countless others had fallen as well.
All because of a single man.
'That old monster.'
Sang Han-cheon's gaze deepened.
No one could gauge the true extent of Cheon O-gyeong's martial prowess. Even decades ago, he had few equals. Let alone now, after so many years had passed—no one could even guess.
Cheon O-gyeong was the successor to Jeongeom-ryu, one of the Demonic Cult's Thirteen Branches.
The Thirteen Branches had endured alongside the Demonic Cult's history. Countless factions rose and fell within the cult, but these thirteen had held firm to this day. Among them, the one Cheon O-gyeong led was especially notable.
Their foundation was so formidable that even the current Cult Leader could not ignore it. The problem was their independence from the Leader's influence.
What good were famed swords or blades if you couldn't wield them at will? That was the Thirteen Branches. Part of the Demonic Cult, yet even the Cult Leader tread carefully.
It was an unwelcome outcome for Sang Han-cheon.
'The Thirteen Branches must be dealt with someday. But for now, they must be used.'
Jeongeom-ryu, one of the Thirteen Branches. And Cheon O-gyeong, its current successor. Zhongnan had suffered a massive blow from him alone. Truly astonishing power.
As Sang Han-cheon pondered how to make better use of Cheon O-gyeong,
"Strategist."
A figure in white appeared silently behind him and bowed.
His hair was white, his eyebrows white. Even his eyes and skin were white. An otherworldly man.
Sang Han-cheon spoke.
"What is it, Il-mong?"
"It's an express letter."
"An express letter?"
"Hard to believe, but it's from the... Murim Alliance."
"The Murim Alliance?"
"Addressed directly to you, Strategist."
Sang Han-cheon's eyes gleamed.
He extended his hand, and Il-mong hastily pulled the letter from his robes and presented it. The envelope clearly read: Personal Dispatch from the Demonic Cult Strategist.
Sang Han-cheon tore open the sealed letter and read.
Interest flickered in his eyes throughout.
"Interesting."
"What does it say?"
"The Fist Demon's movements. The Murim Alliance investigated in detail and sent it over."
"What?"
"Someone in the Murim Alliance finds the Fist Demon troublesome. They want us to handle him for them."
"How dare they!"
A faint killing intent rose in Il-mong's eyes. But Sang Han-cheon laughed.
"No need to take it personally. The Fist Demon is a major obstacle for us too."
"But..."
"Who in the Murim Alliance could harbor this much grudge against the Fist Demon? Plenty of candidates, but only one comes to mind."
"Who?"
"Namgung Chang."
"But he's the Murim Alliance's Strategist."
"He's also direct lineage of the Namgung Clan. And that clan took a huge hit from the Fist Demon. Their patriarch, Namgung Cheon, died. That kind of grudge could easily lead to schemes like this."
"Hmm."
Il-mong let out a low hum. Sang Han-cheon smiled faintly.
"Well, even if not, it doesn't matter."
"What should we do?"
"According to the letter, he'll arrive nearby in two days. We can't risk botching the main plan."
"Then?"
"Naturally, we eliminate him."
Sang Han-cheon smiled meaningfully. Il-mong bowed even deeper.
"I'll handle this myself. You keep the rumors of Zhongnan's heavy losses from spreading, as before."
"Yes!"
"Oh, right! What of the Saintess?"
"She's secluded herself."
"As expected. The shock must have been great."
Sang Han-cheon's eyes turned cold.
Dismissing Il-mong, he approached the window and flung open the long-sealed shutters. The view outside unfolded before him.
Countless Demonic Cult warriors stood arrayed in the vast training grounds of the manor. Their combined aura dominated the area.
Beyond the manor walls, a massive mountain loomed in the distance. Wind from its slopes swept through the grounds, carrying a faint plum blossom scent.
That grand mountain, filled with the fragrance of plum blossoms, was called Mount Hua.
"After Zhongnan, it's Mount Hua's turn."
***
The boat carrying Damho's group raced upstream along the Yellow River at tremendous speed. Rowing against the current was far more exhausting than drifting with it, several times the effort. The Yellow Horse Wharf's boatmen were long past exhaustion.
Their bodies were drenched in sweat, faces pale with fatigue. Yet they focused solely on propelling the boat.
Bang Jin-bo exclaimed in admiration as he watched them.
"Whew! They're incredible. Pushing against this wild Yellow River."
"Branch Leader Jang's boat-handling skills are near divine. No one else could match him and his men on water."
"It really seems so."
"When we reach land, make them some nourishing food. They'll love it."
"If there's time, I definitely will."
"Good enough."
Muk Il-gwang smiled.
Then Jang San-u approached them.
"One more hour, and we'll hit the final hurdle. Everyone, stay sharp."
"Hurdle?"
"Boatmen call it Hell Gorge."
"Hell Gorge?"
Bang Jin-bo's eyes widened.
The name alone oozed foreboding.
"How dangerous is it?"
"Three Gates Gorge at least splits the flow three ways. Hell Gorge funnels raging currents between sheer cliffs. The rapids are three times fiercer. Hidden reefs lurk below—easy to shatter the hull and sink."
"Hmm!"
Bang Jin-bo paled. The mere description chilled him to the bone.
Jang San-u laughed heartily.
"Haha! No need to worry too much. Think I'd let a boat with honored guests sink? It's dangerous, but follow my lead, and we'll pass Hell Gorge safely."
"I'll trust you, Branch Leader Jang."
"Heh heh! Good! As reward for safe passage, can I taste your cooking? Il-gwang praised your skills so much, I can't stand the curiosity."
"Of course. If we clear Hell Gorge and save time, I'll make plenty."
"It's a deal."
"Yes!"
"I'll hold you to it."
Jang San-u returned to his boatmen.
Muk Il-gwang patted Bang Jin-bo's still-frightened shoulder.
"Haha! Don't worry so much. No matter how dangerous, Branch Leader Jang will get us through."
"Yes!"
"By the way, your brother is amazing. A full day gone, and he hasn't budged."
Muk Il-gwang gazed at Damho with awe.
Damho still stood firm at the bow.
The boat bucked wildly against the rapids, yet he didn't flinch. Torrents crashed over, but failed to budge him.
Whirling, backflowing, pulling, pushing...
At a glance, it seemed a single flow, but countless forces churned within. Standing unsupported on the deck was impossible.
Even the boatmen gripped rails or walls to move. But Damho stood tall at the bow without support.
The bow pitched most violently on a speedboat like this.
Balancing there required more than ordinary internal energy or sense of equilibrium.
Damho felt the water's flow through his soles, reacting instantly. Not mere foot and body shifts, but distributing internal energy for balance. Thus sensing the water, harmonizing with its current.
The fiercer the flow, the steadier Damho became. Eyes closed, he surrendered to the river.
How much time passed?
"Hell Gorge."
The boatmen's voices opened Damho's eyes.
A massive canyon loomed ahead.
The gorge gaped like hell's maw, precarious even to behold. Surging rapids like tidal waves, protruding reefs like beastly fangs.
Jang San-u shouted.
"Here we go!"
"Yes!"
Jang San-u took the helm himself.
Navigating such rapids demanded supreme helm skill.
"Full sails! Catch all the wind."
"Yes!"
"Yong-il! Tighten that line more."
"Got it."
Jang San-u commanded like a seasoned general. His men moved in perfect unison, masterful.
Under his orders, the boat cleaved through the rapids bit by bit. Veins bulged on Jang San-u and the boatmen's forearms, muscles swelling.
Grind!
The hull narrowly scraped a massive reef. A small hole punctured; water gushed in. Waiting boatmen rushed with planks and hammers to seal it.
"Urk!"
Bang Jin-bo and Muk Il-gwang clung to rails, barely holding on. Soaked to the skin.
"Brother?"
Bang Jin-bo looked up toward Damho. He still stood rigid. Even these ferocious waves couldn't touch him.
Splash!
A mountain of a wave reared and crashed over the bow. Bang Jin-bo thought Damho would meet it head-on. But the unflinching Damho was swept back by the surge.
"Brother!"
Bang Jin-bo cried out in shock.
To his eyes, Damho seemed swept into the river.
Then—
Splash!
A short spear cleaved the water, aimed where Damho had stood.
"What?"
As Bang Jin-bo and Muk Il-gwang gaped—
Whoosh!
Short spears erupted from underwater, targeting Damho. He landed on deck, deflecting them one by one.
His wrists buzzed from the impacts. The force behind them was no trifle.
Damho's eyes darkened like the murky waves.
"Ambush."
Jang San-u and the boatmen cried in alarm, but Damho remained calm. Instead, he looked skyward.
"Fist Demon!"
A voice thick with killing intent echoed through Hell Gorge.
Above the gorge appeared a warrior in blood-red robes. It was Blood Sea Judge Deung Cheon-so. Beside him stood Full Moon Hermit Jin Hye-won.
Two of the Seven Great Fiends had revealed themselves.
Not just them. Hundreds of warriors with short spears and bows surrounded them. All in crimson uniforms like Deung Cheon-so.
The Demonic Cult called them the Blood Nether Squad.
Blood Ghosts supreme on water and below. They had come for Damho.