Chapter 59
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 59
Chapter Title: Needless Questions and Answers
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At the sudden rude remark, Chaepil flung back the hood covering his head.
Illuminated by the flickering campfire light, his face was hideous.
A deep scar ran from his left eye down across his cheek to his jaw, and tattoos covered every inch of the remaining skin on his face.
His hair was shaved bald in the style of the Western Regions or perhaps the Great Food Country, but even his scalp was covered in bizarre tattoo patterns.
And above all, he was a black man.
Thick lips, strikingly white sclera against pitch-black skin.
Black slaves were occasionally sold into the Central Plains, so it wasn't the first time seeing one, but a black man as the leader of a great plains bandit gang was truly unexpected.
"There's a mad bastard here who wants to die too. Step forward."
Seonwoyong, who had been sitting beside Dogwang poking at the campfire, lifted his head and stared straight at Chaepil.
"You come here. If you've got the guts."
Seonwoyong casually shifted his seated position and turned his attention back to the campfire.
"Kekeke... I'll deal with you separately."
Unexpectedly, Chaepil quickly calmed his excitement and changed the subject.
"Alright. That ends our talk. I'll visit again starting tomorrow night. Of course, it won't be as pleasant as tonight."
No one knew if he was addressing Sahongcheon or someone else, but with those parting words, Chaepil spurred his horse into the darkness.
Following him, hundreds of riders departed in orderly ranks.
They vanished in an instant, just as they had appeared.
The world fell silent.
The campfire was dying down, but none of the caravan workers dared touch it.
"What's that about, Leader Seonwo?"
Sahongcheon approached Seonwoyong and stood, asking.
"Would Master Sa have accepted that offer? And do you believe they'll be satisfied with it and escort us nicely?"
"Urgh. No, but... still, maybe we could talk it over."
"No need for talk! They're not the type you can reason with."
"You're right, but... what do we do starting tomorrow? They're not the sort to sit idle."
"We handle it by the laws of the plains. This is the plains, after all. Just as he said."
Seonwoyong continued leisurely poking at the campfire.
Sahongcheon gazed down at him for a moment, let out a deep sigh, and walked away.
* * *
Dawn was about to break.
The Black Wolf Band's brothers were rumored to sleep on horseback.
Of course, it was an exaggeration.
Most of them had dismounted, using their saddles as pillows and the thick blankets they'd placed under them as bedding.
But a dozen or so on watch were scattered around, peering into the darkness.
Without a campfire, the dawn chill pierced sharply into the wolf pelts draped over them.
"The sun will rise soon."
One whispered to the man beside him.
"Yeah. Time to wake everyone."
"Let 'em sleep a bit more. It's been less than two hours."
They'd ridden hard after visiting the caravan, so it was only natural.
"But that... is it a person?"
The one who'd just said not to wake the others muttered and stood.
The darkness was still thick, limiting visibility, but something was clearly approaching on horseback ahead.
The two drew their long swords and stepped forward, but they weren't tense.
It was just one man.
"Who the hell are you? You've gone mad wanting to die."
The approaching rider was Seonwoyong on his yellow-furred Kiruo.
Kiruo's majestic form was no longer its former self.
After the long journey, it had regained its true appearance as a supreme steed among steeds.
Without Seonwoyong guiding it, Kiruo had followed the Black Wolf Band's tracks and scent here on its own.
"Come out, Chaepil! I'm here!"
Suddenly, Seonwoyong bellowed.
His voice, infused with proper inner energy, swept over the sleeping bandits and horses like a storm.
Startled horses neighed and reared up all at once, while the confused bandits leaped to their feet, hurriedly grabbing their weapons.
"It's that guy from before. I thought he was crazy."
The two men who had blocked Seonwoyong swung their swords at him first.
But with a casual wave of his hand, Seonwoyong sent them tumbling down, bewildered.
The Black Wolf Band's discipline was impressively tight, unworthy of mere bandits.
They quickly quelled the chaos and went about their tasks.
Half were already mounted, the other half saddling up.
A dozen with spears at the ready had already formed a line blocking Seonwoyong, covering their rear comrades.
The thought that he was alone never crossed their minds.
They assumed armed riders weren't far behind, ready to launch an attack.
Seonwoyong watched them calmly.
"So it was you. How many did you bring?"
Moments later, Chaepil rode forward.
"Bring? Who?"
"Government troops? So you were a lackey of the authorities after all."
"Cut the nonsense and come here."
Only then did Chaepil sense something off.
Dawn's light was spreading across the empty plains as far as the eye could see.
Seonwoyong stood before them literally alone on a single horse.
Yet his presence facing hundreds of mounted men was even more imposing.
Far from fear, his expression arrogantly swept over them.
Chaepil felt a strange pressure.
Something was wrong, but he couldn't show it.
"You're really desperate not to die easy, huh. Hey! Seize that bastard and hang him on a stake."
On the plains, hanging on a stake was the most brutal execution.
Not just hanging—they'd strip him, flay his skin, then impale him, letting the plains' birds tear at his flesh until death. The agony was unimaginable.
At Chaepil's command, the front riders charged with spears extended.
"You won't shed tears until you see the coffin, will you?"
Seonwoyong echoed Chaepil's earlier words as he raised the bronze rod in his hand.
He then kicked Kiruo's flank, charging forward.
It was the Victory Sword, though he didn't draw it fully.
The bronze sheen vanished, replaced by a soft white glow enveloping the blade.
As it clashed with the five oncoming spears, the Victory Sword flashed brilliantly.
The five bandits flew into the air, their spears shattering and scattering.
Seonwoyong pressed straight into the heart of the bandit formation without pause.
Though the Victory Sword was barely three feet long, its white radiance covered a three-zhang radius, pulverizing everything in its path.
Chaepil's face filled with shock.
In an instant, dozens of brothers soared into the air, and Seonwoyong was already before him.
'That guy's an incredible master!'
Gritting his teeth, Chaepil gripped his Demon Subduing Blade tighter and spurred his horse at Seonwoyong.
Chaepil's Demon Subduing Blade was a seven-foot spear weighing thirty catties.
And now, a bluish sword aura flickered along its edge.
Manifesting sword aura with a light sword was hard enough; seeing the massive blade glow blue left even his subordinate bandits wide-eyed.
Mounted combat allowed no sparring—it was impossible.
The goal was to pierce the enemy and sever heads.
On galloping, maneuvering horses, sword forms and stances meant nothing.
Yet the technique required even greater precision, and inner strength was paramount.
Mounted martial arts were honed solely through endless real battles.
Not arts for the sake of arts.
Chaepil's Demon Subduing Blade art was the real deal, forged from profound inner strength, divine power, and countless battles.
But before it reached Seonwoyong, it veered toward Kiruo's neck.
-To behead the enemy general, first behead his horse.
A basic tactic against mounted commanders, proven in countless battles.
No matter how great the general, the moment his horse fell, he'd be impaled by soldiers' spear tips.
It showed Chaepil's vast experience and quick thinking.
"Haha. Fine general you are."
Seonwoyong let out a hearty laugh unbefitting his age, praising his foe.
He yanked Kiruo's reins, spinning the horse sideways.
Incredible horsemanship.
At the same time, the white-glowing Victory Sword clashed with the blue-aura Demon Subduing Blade.
*Boom.*
It wasn't the clash of metal, but thunder.
The shockwave was immense.
Chaepil's wretched form flew into the air, crashing three zhang away.
His shattered Demon Subduing Blade rained down atop him.
"Your joints will ache, but you can still move. Follow me. I have questions for you."
Mounted on Kiruo, Seonwoyong spoke calmly to the fallen Chaepil, then lightly tapped Kiruo's flank.
The hundred-odd bandits around stood speechless in awe, while Chaepil writhed to his feet.
Seonwoyong rode toward a nearby hill, but no one blocked his path.