Dawn's Moral Compromise
The atmosphere felt off as the sun began to peek over the horizon in the early dawn. The Murim Alliance Leader, accompanied by a massive crowd, emerged from the thickets into the open field alongside the alliance's top brass. The sight of the distant, shadowy masses provoked outbursts of discontent in various forms from the ranks. Led by Tang Hoyeol, the head of the Sacheon Tang Family, all Tang warriors had broken off from the group, while non-peak experts—first- and second-rate fighters—had been decimated by traps and plagues. They'd hoped to offset their disadvantage in elite manpower by swelling their numbers after witnessing so many Fire Realm masters at the martial tournament, but those plans had gone up in smoke. Now burdened with the need to secure victory through duels among the experts, the Murim Alliance Leader let out a frustrated sigh.
"Alliance Leader..."
Zhuge Gonghyu, the alliance's strategist, called softly. The Leader turned his head and silently waited for him to continue.
"We must take out the Fire Realm experts in their vanguard whenever possible."
"...And how do you propose we do that...? Do you have some secret ploy for a deathmatch?"
The Leader had a hunch what Zhuge meant but couldn't bring himself to voice it, maintaining his silence. Zhuge furrowed his brows and spoke in a scolding tone.
"Are you still talking like that, Alliance Leader...?"
"..."
"Sigh... With you being so lukewarm, as head of the Zhuge family and the alliance's strategist, I'll be blunt. Whether it's wheel fighting or whatever, we need to gang up on them."
The expected remark came laced with heated fervor. The Leader nearly nodded unconsciously, recalling the plague incident and the myriad traps they'd encountered en route to the Demonic Cult. But wasn't he a Shaolin monk first and foremost, before being the Alliance Leader? He'd already broken the precept against killing unintentionally amid the horrors of the plague-stricken disciples and comrades. Returning to Mount Song would mean decades locked in a repentance cave honing his Buddhist faith. Some might say what difference did it make—he'd end up there anyway—but this was a matter of conscience for a monk representing both the righteous sects and Shaolin.
Shaking off his dark thoughts with an inner chant, the Leader composed himself and spoke.
"That's not an option, Zhuge family head."
"...! Alliance Leader!"
Zhuge's exclamation drew the subtle attention of the other executives, who furrowed their brows with their own opinions. As hardliners and moderates alike—battered so relentlessly—tensions rose and shouts threatened to erupt.
The Leader calmly raised a hand to quiet them.
"I understand your feelings. This monk fought alongside you under that plague's name, did I not?"
"....."
The heavy, somber words gradually calmed the mood. Seeing this, the Leader smiled faintly and nodded.
"Even if we've fallen for vile tricks, we're the pillars of the righteous Murim Alliance, aren't we? A victory gained by stooping to their level would ring hollow, no?"
Tang Hoyeol of the Wudang Sect and a few hardliners showed discomfort.
"However, Alliance Leader..."
"If you're saying that, do you have a plan?"
In response, the Leader rolled his prayer beads and nodded slightly.
"I don't know who devised those vile schemes, but the plague we faced was no ordinary affliction. I've already passed word through my imperial connections."
The sudden mention of the imperial family left the executives momentarily stunned, then frowning and tilting their heads.
"...The court doesn't meddle in martial affairs. You really think they'll move?"
"Hm... This old bag of bones thinks it's not a bad choice, personally."
"True... What 'non-interference' applies to a plague?"
The Leader nodded along as they murmured, then continued.
"...In fact, once we crossed the Kunlun Mountains, the court responded—though they haven't acted directly yet."
The hardliners shrank back as he slyly referenced their brigandish behavior during the march.
"Anyway, with me leaking info on the plague amid all this, even if our Murim Alliance falls, those vile Demonic Cult dogs will be swept away by the court in the end."
His words echoed through the now-silent group.
"So don't obsess over wiping them out. Fight as best you can, and that's enough. Let me say it again: they've already lost."
In plain terms, it was "just duel enough to survive." Some hardliners scowled, but with executives across factions already swayed, they sighed and shook their heads in resignation.
"If that's your stance, Alliance Leader..."
"As the saying goes, victory without fighting is the true stratagem... Guess that's the best outcome."
Seeing them unite unlike before, the Leader breathed a faint sigh and chanted inwardly.
+++
"Hm... Why have those fools suddenly gone soft...?"
Dokgo Hwaryeon's puzzled voice carried as she strained her eyes across the field. Beside her, Geom-ma crossed his arms with an irritated scowl and clicked his tongue.
"Tch... Looks like their scattered opinions have converged. Little Cult Leader."
Dokgo Hwaryeon shot him a look as if to say what do you mean? Geom-ma chuckled, reminded anew of how she ignored everything outside martial arts and vice military affairs.
"Little Cult Leader, do you think they're like our Divine Cult, with the Sovereign holding firm?"
Enhancing her sight and senses, Dokgo Hwaryeon scanned the enemy lines and nodded upon confirming the frontline monks, martial-robed, and Taoist elders were at best on par with her elders' Fire Realm.
"They look usable enough... but compared to the Sovereign, they're fireflies under moonlight."
"Obviously."
Geom-ma nodded vigorously in agreement, a far cry from his usual self. Dokgo Hwaryeon tilted her head.
"But... Geom-ma Elder, do you want something from me...? I can't get used to this."
Geom-ma hesitated, lips twitching, then glanced at Wiso-hwa, who attended demurely at Dokgo Hwaryeon's side.
"...Aren't you and I bound by blood now, Little Cult Leader? It's only natural."
"Blood, huh... Well, I don't mind your daughter much, so don't worry."
Grasping his unspoken plea not to mistreat his daughter, Dokgo Hwaryeon smirked at the pitiful old man who looked every bit the "Geom-ma" in name only. Wasn't he one of the Divine Cult's top Fire Realm experts? For such a man to grovel like this... Of course, knowing the cause was her husband Kang San made her lips purse, but he held elder status even she couldn't touch. Wagging a finger in annoyance, she dropped the topic and turned away.
"Does Gwang-ma Elder have nothing to say?"
Gwang-ma, unwittingly catching the spillover, ignored her mood and spoke with eager glee.
"Kekeke. What more is there, Little Cult Leader? Prey in plain sight..."
He gulped, eyes gleaming. Dokgo Hwaryeon, sensing that familiar lecherous glint she'd seen countless times before meeting Kang San, felt a surge of disgust and inexplicable unease. She spoke up immediately.
"Gwang-ma Elder seems the most raring to go. Why not send him first? Geom-ma Elder."
"...Not a bad idea."
One dodges shit not out of fear, but disgust. Even allies—a creep's gaze was unbearable. Instantly reading her intent, Geom-ma nodded and granted permission as acting leader.
"Oh, ohooo...!!!"
Geom-ma shuddered at Gwang-ma's sticky exclamation and snapped.
"Shut it and go raise a victory cry first!"
Gwang-ma glanced at his followers, offered Dokgo Hwaryeon a grateful fist salute, then bolted with his movement technique.
Tat! Tatat!
The Divine Cult warriors followed suit. The death-defying zeal in their eyes as they charged ignited the watching fighters' spirits.
"...Why are they so fired up?"
Geom-ma and his own warriors, lagging behind Gwang-ma's fervor, tilted their heads. Geom-ma gave a wry smile.
"Fail to claim one prisoner each, and they'll have to... attend Gwang-ma's nights."
"..."
Dokgo Hwaryeon suddenly felt like vomiting.