There Once Were Bandits - 1
The kings of the Yi-ja Wang, scattered across the provinces, could mobilize their forces at a moment's notice whenever force was needed. For instance, Gu Gangwang would immediately set out to suppress water bandits upon spotting them, or Dong-gu Wang would launch his ships the instant he detected Japanese pirate stirrings. In urgent matters, they couldn't wait for the Emperor's explicit permission each time, so they acted first and reported later, presuming it aligned with His Majesty's will. This was possible only because of the deep trust between the Emperor and the kings.
But those of us stationed in Kaepyeong—myself and that Han Jung fellow—couldn't afford such presumptuousness. The Yi-ja Wang had the excuse of distance, but we served closer to the Emperor than anyone. For us to move troops without His Majesty's approval would be nothing short of reckless folly.
"You're saying you'll mobilize the Akga Army and the Han Family Army?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. Your imperial dignity blankets the heavens and encompasses the earth, leaving not a single bandit to be found in Zhili Province. Yet ignorant and wicked souls will harbor evil thoughts unless we martial artists demonstrate our might from time to time. Thus, I and Giwang seek to deploy our forces to patrol Zhili and its environs."
"I see."
The Emperor closed his eyes briefly at my request. This wasn't just one king moving troops, but two. For mere public security, it was an excessive force. It was only natural for His Majesty to ponder deeply.
When he opened his eyes again, the Emperor smiled gently.
"Old Master."
His boundless mercy in addressing this old man with such honorifics, even calling me "Old Master"—it was too much for one of my station. I hastily bowed my head.
"What is your command?"
"With you two pillars standing firm to guard Kaepyeong, my heart is ever at ease."
"I am deeply grateful, Your Majesty."
Truly humbling words; I bowed even lower. All under heaven belonged to the Emperor, and the people filling the realm followed him. The entire world guarded him, yet the mere presence of two old men brought him comfort—what greater joy could there be?
"If the Akga Army and Han Family Army move, the people will find peace of mind just as I do."
With those words, the Emperor let out a soft chuckle.
"Very well. I grant permission. March splendidly for the sake of Zhili's people."
"I am overwhelmed with gratitude for accepting this foolish request of mine."
"Haha, if you call yourself foolish, Old Master, then the wise in this realm number precious few."
With that, the Emperor rose from the jade throne.
"And there is no one else who would go to such lengths for his granddaughter and her husband."
"I-I beg your pardon."
His Majesty's words laid bare what he already knew, leaving me embarrassed. All that talk of imperial dignity, intimidating evildoers, the people's peace—it was all a front. In truth, I'd been outraged hearing that Yeon-i and my grandson-in-law were in peril from bandits in Zhejiang.
In a way, it was less about grand principles and more a personal grudge. Damn this getting old. Lately, it felt like emotions overrode reason more often than not.
"No need for apologies. Calming the realm and its people out of worry for family—how could that warrant regret?"
His Majesty's warm encouragement kept my head bowed even lower.
That damnable fool.
Suddenly, Han Jung came to mind—the one who hadn't shown up. He'd slyly bowed out, saying the one who proposed first should make the request. Had he foreseen this and dodged?
Curse the bastard.
No matter how I thought about it, Han Jung had a serious flaw in character. He'd leaped to move the Han Family Army the moment he heard his grandson was suffering—yet dumped this on me and vanished.
Decades of his antics, and I still couldn't get used to them.
"...Where did he go?"
"He said he'd personally protect his grandson and daughter-in-law... and left for Fujian with a few masters."
Having secured the Emperor's permission, I'd headed to Giwangjeo to say it was time to move—east and west, each in our direction. But instead of Han Jung, it was his son, the crown prince, who greeted me at the gate, looking sheepish about his father's whims.
"Hah."
A sigh escaped me unbidden. That damn fool had bolted for Fujian the moment I suggested patrolling Zhili together.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. I will lead the Han Family Army in Father's stead—"
"Forgive you? The fault lies with him, not you."
I patted the crown prince's shoulder in reassurance. Even I, who rarely crossed paths with Han Jung these days, grabbed my neck in frustration—how much worse for the son living under the same roof? I worried the crown prince might succumb to illness before his father.
He needed to reach the Hwagyeong realm soon, or he'd never outlive that bastard, whose cultivation was absurdly high for no good reason.
"And those 'few masters'—how many exactly?"
"He took five of the Ten Thunders."
"He's serious."
I couldn't help but chuckle at the crown prince's reply. The Ten Thunders: the Han Family Army's elite peak masters. Half of them gone with Han Jung meant Fujian bandits wouldn't hear the word "bandit" for a while.
The synergy between Gu Gangwang and Dong-gu Wang exceeded expectations. A wind arts master and a fire arts master—their combined power reduced a mountain to ash without effort.
Incredible blaze control.
It was truly awe-inspiring. A Hwagyeong master's fire arts already unleashed tremendous might, but fusing it with an equal master's wind arts amplified it further. The flames spread without being extinguished—a spectacular sight.
And these were veterans among veterans. Unlike young warriors wasting energy on flashy poses or shouting technique names to boast, they merely waved their hands lazily, birthing a firestorm that engulfed the mountain.
Honestly, that was scarier. A hot-blooded youth yelling "Plum Blossom Swordsmanship!" or "Thirty-Six Swords of the Realm!" and charging was less monstrous than an old man flicking his finger from afar.
"Hm. Haven't done this in ages—doesn't pack the old punch."
"It's been since the Yangtze bandit suppression that we've synced up. Burning down Jin Paeryeong's lair was our last go, so a bit of rust is expected."
The perpetrators themselves grumbled, unsatisfied with the devastation.
"We should sync more often for training. Japanese pirate hunt it is?"
"How'd you arrive at that conclusion?"
Amid it, Gu Gangwang justified his pirate obsession under the guise of joint training. The man was stubbornly persistent. Hadn't he just returned from the great islands weeks ago? Yet he still clung to his pirate grudge.
Or perhaps, failing to crush them outright left him obsessed. If he'd beaten them to his heart's content, he'd have moved on.
"Ah, look—crawling out now."
"Indeed."
The bickering kings fell silent at the sight of bandits fleeing the burning mountain. Most had perished with it, but a lucky few—or perhaps peak masters who barely survived a Hwagyeong strike—had made it out.
Either way, futile.
Breaking through the inferno only led to two Hwagyeong masters and countless super peak experts. Better to meet their end humbly in the flames, psychologically speaking.
Of course, if they thought, "I've got light sins—kowtow and surrender, maybe I live!," that changed things. Lesser offenders were more profitably shipped to Shanhaiguan than killed.
"So this is Hwagyeong power..."
As bandits tumbled from the mountain only to be pummeled by Dudokbu soldiers, Ak I-yeon beside me murmured in a dazed tone. Behind us, Jo Wi-cheo watched the blaze with grave intensity, unwilling to miss a moment of the two Hwagyeong masters' work.
Ah.
I'd thought they were just gawking like at a campfire, but unlike me, these two were true martial artists. For one walking the path of the martial way, witnessing Hwagyeong feats was a stroke of fortune.
Even Ak I-yeon, living with Ak Wang, was no exception. Fortunes multiplied the better, and Ak Wang likely never showed his full power before her.
This was probably her first time seeing a Hwagyeong unleash seriously.
Jo Wi-cheo on his second?
Come to think of it, Jo Wi-cheo had joined Yangyang Wang in striking Mongol homeland. A super peak who'd witnessed three Hwagyeong in real combat—perhaps the wall before him had lowered a bit.
"Hm?"
As I quietly stepped aside not to disturb their enlightenment, Gu Gangwang—controlling the spreading flames beyond the mountain—tilted his head.
"Dong-gu Wang. Am I the only one feeling this?"
He turned to Dong-gu Wang with a dubious tone.
"No. I felt it too."
With that, both kings' gazes turned to me.
What? Why the stares?
"Han Un, my boy. Seems you're one beloved grandson."
"I'd stick close too if I had a grandson like that. Nearly bit off more than he could chew in front of Hwagyeong masters."
"Kuh, true enough."
Incomprehensible words. Why bring up love and grandsons here?
But instinct outpaced reason, grasping their meaning. If these fearless kings sensed something and shifted stances warily...
No way.
Clinging to the last shreds of calm, I looked northwest.
Ah.
And there, faintly visible from afar, something all too familiar emerged—though distance blurred the details.
"Everyone! Close your eyes!"
Gu Gangwang's shout had me shutting mine reflexively.
The ensuing roar had me clapping hands over my ears. Even with eyes shut, the radiant brilliance and sky-shattering boom assaulted the senses.
Grandfather.
It was Grandfather's signature thunder arts. Resting in Kaepyeong, yet he'd rushed all the way to this Fujian backwater.