Water and the Water Bandits - 5
After slamming his wind technique straight into the waterfall, Gi Gangwang spent the following days leisurely passing the time. It was unexpected. I'd figured he'd be charging around everywhere, hell-bent on killing the waterfall version of the water bandits right then and there. Who could've guessed he'd stay this quiet?
"So this is the three-headed snake? To think I'd get to see the one Nang-jung Wang bragged about here."
- Shii, shiiiik...!
- Sieeek!
- Shiuuuuk!
"Well, I'll be. Never thought I'd live to find a snake cute."
That said, given Gi Gangwang's personality, it was damn near impossible for him to just sit quietly by himself. Thanks to that, after the waterfall-splitting fiasco, I ended up as his drinking buddy and conversation partner. And in the process, poor Samshik got dragged out after Gi Gangwang discovered his existence. Truly regrettable.
"Han Un. What does this little guy eat?"
"He eats just about anything, but he especially loves stuff laced with poison."
"Is that right? A tiny thing like this, calling itself a spirit beast and eating all sorts."
Gi Gangwang poked at Samshik's body with his finger, gazing down at him with eyes full of wonder. Samshik was the precious spirit beast that Nang-jung Wang had scoured the entire Central Plains to find. Even for a king like Gi Gangwang, it wasn't something you ran into every day. To begin with, he was the madman who spent his time hunting water bandits instead of spirit beasts.
- Shiiik... shiiiik...!
Of course, from Samshik's perspective, a Hwa-gyeong master like Gi Gangwang was someone you didn't meet easily—and probably didn't want to. Even Kki-ing-i and Kki-ong-i, who were bigger than Samshik, had freaked out and bolted the first time they saw him. But Samshik was a minimalist spirit beast, barely the length of two index fingers. Unlike the two deer who could at least attempt an escape, he couldn't even try.
Even more tragic.
- Shiiiik...
"Hm? Is this guy crying?"
Subjected to Gi Gangwang's one-sided manhandling, Samshik finally burst into tears. Snakes... could cry too...
"Your Highness. He's still just a baby. Even minor contact can scare him badly."
As I reached out toward the pitiful little guy, Samshik scrambled up my hand and hid in my sleeve. Heartbreaking.
He'd grown up in Nang-jung Wang's hands, so it wasn't his first time seeing a Hwa-gyeong master, but apparently there was a difference between handling by a poison expert and a non-expert.
"No, I didn't expect the little guy to hate it that much..."
Gi Gangwang seemed softened by Samshik's tears too, stroking his beard awkwardly as if making excuses. Yeah. How could anyone's heart not soften when such a tiny thing was crying that hard? At least he still had some basic humanity left. A relief.
"But, Your Highness."
"What is it?"
"I know Your Highness's wisdom and insight far surpass someone like me, but... is it really okay to leave the water bandits alone?"
Seizing the moment when his humanity seemed to be functioning normally, I broached the subject. Gi Gangwang wasn't the type to put off bandit extermination out of laziness. The guy who personally went out on the Yangtze all the time to beat them down—was he suddenly getting lazy now? Ridiculous. If that were the case, he wouldn't have rushed all the way to Gwiju in the first place.
Which made it all the more puzzling. What exactly was he thinking, biding his time like this? What picture was he painting that required such patience?
"Haha! You're itching to crush those water bandits yourself, eh?"
I nearly frowned at that. It was problematic to lump a normal person in with his own twisted bandit-loving ways.
"But don't worry. I'm just waiting for the scattered ones to gather."
"Waiting?"
But I couldn't hold back the twitch at his follow-up. His blazing wind technique had shaken Huang'ao Stream Great Waterfall and several others. Any sane person would've bolted at the sight. Waiting for them to gather? That didn't make sense.
Had he struck right after wrecking the falls, he could've blocked their escape via the waterfalls. That would've made the extermination easier than before.
"Keh, Han Un. Do you know what's most important when dealing with water bandits?"
Reading my expression, Gi Gangwang chuckled.
"Mobility to overwhelm them, right? Honestly, they're hard to catch because they scatter everywhere—not because they're strong."
"Spot on. But the key is viewing water bandits as something other than human."
"...Pardon?"
His unexpected words left me without a ready reaction. Sure, water bandits were human scum and vermin, but was that the core principle of extermination? Seemed off.
"These days, the realm stands under Heaven's mandate, blanketed by His Majesty's virtue—a time of great order, not chaos. In such an era, who with a sound mind turns to banditry? You don't judge them with common sense. You see them through a madman's eyes."
"I... see."
"Exactly. I guarantee you, that split waterfall won't make them flee. They'll laugh it off—thinking we couldn't catch them, so we vented on the falls instead."
Incomprehensible. If it came from anyone else, I'd have slapped him and called it nonsense. But from a water bandit expert, it carried strange conviction. The more I chewed on it, the more it rang true.
'Yeah, water bandit bastards aren't exactly normal.'
In a world where learning martial arts meant enlisting for better prospects, everyone knew water bandits got Gi Gangwang's personal house call. Yet they persisted. That meant twisted stubbornness and madness. Judging them by normal logic was foolish.
"By now, the scattered bandits are probably converging on the falls, relearning the water's flow and force. For water bandits, water matters more than ships."
"Then the extermination..."
"When they've adapted to the changed currents. They'll swarm out to test it with their bodies, for sure."
I could only nod at his confident words. Experts were experts for a reason.
A waterfall boasts destructive power incomparable to a lazily flowing river. Even a small pebble plummets with immense force from dozens of cheok high. Now imagine an uncountable mass of water crashing down from hundreds of cheok.
For ordinary folk, it's an unbearable force, a sight to behold in awe. But we were different. We merged with nature that others watched helplessly, sometimes clashing against it. To us, the waterfall wasn't an object of reverence—it was our daily life, our turf.
"They've fucked it up real good."
That's why the officials' outrage burned hotter. If those incompetents couldn't catch us, they should've just handed over their purses. How dare they harm our precious, beloved nature? Had bureaucrats forgotten Daoist teachings, buried in their Confucian babble?
"Sect Leader."
As I imagined tearing apart those Confucius-and-Mencius-spouting idiots, First Elder approached.
"Most of the disciples have adapted to the new currents."
"Most?"
I frowned at his words. All or nothing—'most' was what?
"Huang'ao Stream was wild enough already. With that mess on top, it's caused a real uproar."
But his explanation made sense. True—the already ferocious Huang'ao had split into two streams, speeds and directions all tangled. We, who navigated it freely, adapted quickest.
"First Elder is drilling the rest intensively, but—"
"Enough. A slight shortfall can be covered in real combat."
First Elder's lips curled up sharply.
"Exactly. A hundred days of practice can't match one bout of real action."
I chuckled along as he burst into laughter. Yeah. No training beats actual combat. If you're deficient, fill it in the field. If you die there, you were never worth more.
We were Huang'ao Stream's unmatched friends and neighbors, dragons ruling these waters. No need to carry the weak stragglers.
"Sect Leader. One minor issue."
First Elder's words shattered my mood. I hadn't ridden the waves in ages, and now problems? Horrific.
"Not enough boats?"
"No marks to fleece."
Ah.
"Word of the waterfall anomaly spread far, so scholar-types and fat-purses have thinned out coming here."
"That's no minor issue."
It was deadly serious.
'What now.'
A sigh escaped at the lack of generous donors. Headache. No marks meant boating was just training, and venturing far abandoned our home advantage. Escaping via waterfalls was gold.
"...Keep up the training for now."
"Got it."
After agonizing, I ordered continued drills. No choice. If combat was off, drill hard. Couldn't waste stamina waiting for ghosts.
'Damn bureaucrats.'
I ground my teeth thinking of those faceless fools. If those lunatics hadn't blasted the falls, we'd be sailing full tilt by now.
Heaven hadn't abandoned us. Three days after deciding on drills, people appeared at the quiet Huang'ao Great Waterfall.
"Oh ho."
"Looks like a generous face."
And ones with decent wealth, judging by their looks and clothes. They reeked of it. The young man rowing slowly, the middle-aged guy sipping liquor in the ferry—both exuded unmissable affluence and leisure.
'Jackpot.'
They knew Huang'ao's fame but not ours. Otherwise, just two wouldn't come. Truly lamentable. In this world, you had to heed information. We'd teach them that truth personally.
For a heartfelt thank-you and a bit of coin, it'd suffice.
I boarded a ferry with Gi Gangwang, heading for the falls.
'Damn it.'
My situation was so pathetic, tears welled up. Me, of all people, rowing now. At this rate, I'd forget I was crown prince.