Chapter 96: War (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 96: War (2)
War.
Hundreds, perhaps thousands of people tangled together in a slaughter.
Seo-jun pondered this as he ran.
They said a single strike of the Primordial Unity Sun-Moon Art could kill hundreds, but was that truly possible?
Most people could easily crush a single ant without a second thought. But how many could bring their foot down on a swarm of hundreds, even thousands, of ants?
And what if those weren't ants, but people?
"What a damn mess."
What was he supposed to do, then? Weigh the circumstances of every single soldier and decide who deserved to live and who deserved to die?
A hollow laugh escaped him.
If the surviving enemy martial artists attacked again, if a slight hesitation caused them to lose the war, and if he was forced to watch the Namgung Clan burn before his eyes...
‘That would be the height of stupidity.’
He had no desire to become some saintly Seonin. He would only act with chivalry when he could afford to, and even then, he’d make sure to take all the credit.
He couldn't afford to be conflicted now.
On one side were faceless enemies; on the other were the people he shared bonds with.
The Namgung Clan. His father-in-law. The Chief Steward. Uncle Bae-ho. His aunt. His sister. Chun-bong. And the many others he had met along the way.
They already numbered more than he could count on both hands; there was no need to place lives on a scale.
Who was more important? What a foolish question.
Seo-jun’s figure streaked across the sky.
* * *
Snow fell.
Pure white flakes covered the corpses, piling upon the shoulders of the survivors as well. It was a biting cold that would freeze an ordinary person to death within hours.
The only saving grace was that every martial artist here was at least at the Peak Realm. Unless they were severely wounded, they didn't have to worry about freezing to death.
"Dammit..."
Namgung Chang-hwi glared at the tent before him. It was where those aforementioned severely wounded were gathered.
Could they truly survive the night? Likely not.
They had requested reinforcements from the Murim Alliance, but there was no telling when they would arrive. With the Black Lotus Union liable to attack at any moment, they couldn't just sit around and wait.
The bone-deep chill would freeze the patients to death, and by tomorrow, nothing would remain in that tent but cold, stiff corpses.
"Tsk."
Namgung Chang-hwi roughly brushed off the accumulated snow and walked away, heading toward the command tent where the leadership had gathered.
As he pulled back the tent flap and stepped inside, warmth tickled his skin. Namgung Chang-hwi scratched his neck irritably as he strode forward.
"We cannot go on like this."
At his words, all eyes turned toward him.
He was from a distant branch of the Namgung Clan, but he was still a Namgung. He was also one of the few Super Peak experts present.
"If we stay here and hold out, we all die. Only those who must stay should remain; the rest need to leave."
"Amitabha... Those who remain will surely perish."
Great Master Jibaek of Shaolin pressed his palms together. His eyes scanned the room. The brilliance they had held when they first met was gone, replaced by deep fatigue.
"We will stay," Namgung Chang-hwi declared, his voice heavy as a sigh. "Let the martial artists from the small and medium sects withdraw. Even if we fall, the Clan won't take a fatal blow, but for them, their entire sects will crumble."
"You should think of it the other way around," the Beggar Sect’s Drunken Dog Beggar grumbled, his face contorted. "For the sake of the future, the members of the Great Clans should be the ones to survive and leave. To be blunt, the small and medium sects aren't much help anyway."
"Shouldn't we consider the aftermath?"
"You fool! If the Murim Alliance falls, do you think the small sects will be safe?"
"Fine." Namgung Chang-hwi nodded. "The Beggar Sect may withdraw. Namgung will handle this."
"No... I didn't mean you had to do that."
Drunken Dog Beggar cleared his throat and looked away. Namgung Chang-hwi turned to Great Master Jibaek. The monk silently closed his eyes.
"Amitabha..."
Namgung Chang-hwi clicked his tongue at the habitual prayer and turned his back, his chest tight with frustration.
As he stepped out of the tent, the cold wind lashed at his cheeks. He pulled his robes tight and surveyed the surroundings, spotting a group of martial artists gathered around a campfire.
"So, I told them right then and there! You bastards! Stop this instant!"
One martial artist was talking incessantly, though he received no reaction. The lips of the others remained sealed as if glued shut.
Yet, the man’s mouth did not rest.
Whether he was doing it to bolster his comrades' courage or because he had lost his mind and was simply babbling, there was no way to tell.
Namgung Chang-hwi clicked his tongue and hurried his pace.
The martial artists of the Namgung Clan were gathered in one place. Beside them were the monks of Shaolin and the beggars of the Beggar Sect.
As Namgung Chang-hwi approached, one warrior looked up.
"You've returned."
He, too, was a warrior of Namgung. Namgung Chang-hwi nodded and looked at his men. Then, he spoke.
"I'm sorry. It seems we have to stay."
At those words, the Namgung warriors nodded heavily. A beggar scratched his head and spat on the snowy ground.
"Well, it's not like a fight is decided by numbers alone. We might even win if those small sect folks pull out, right? Why the long faces?"
"The Beggar Sect and Shaolin will retreat."
"What?"
The beggar’s eyebrows shot up.
"You're telling us to run and leave you behind? Bullshit. Since when did the Beggar Sect become a pack of dogs that tucks their tails?"
A monk also shook his head.
"Opening the gates of slaughter is not desirable, but it is unthinkable for a disciple of Shaolin to witness injustice and turn a blind eye. We will help."
Namgung Chang-hwi stared at them blankly, then suddenly snapped his head up.
"...It was all for naught. We're too late."
Through the darkness of the night, fierce presences were rapidly closing in.
Belatedly, a signal flare was fired, shimmering mockingly in a corner of the sky.
‘The sentries were discovered before they could even send the signal.’
That flare was undoubtedly fired by the Black Lotus Union bastards to mock them.
Watching the firework burst in the distant sky, Namgung Chang-hwi began to move.
"...Let's go."
His blue robes fluttered in the falling snow as the warriors of Namgung followed behind him.
* * *
Sword clashed against sword. The ground grew muddy with blood. He stepped on a corpse, unable to tell who it belonged to.
Suddenly coming to his senses, Namgung Chang-hwi looked around blankly.
People were dying like insects. Sensing an incoming blade, Namgung Chang-hwi instinctively swung his sword.
Clang—!
As he parried the strike, his opponent retreated. The Namgung warriors maintained their sword formation, lending their strength to Namgung Chang-hwi.
The opponent didn't seem to care.
"You still fight like a girl!"
It was Heuk-gwol of the Great Black Mountain Sect. He charged into the Namgung sword formation alone.
Namgung Chang-hwi struggled to deflect the massive blade while maintaining the flow of the formation.
Heuk-gwol wasn't entirely at ease either. He knew it would be easier to cut down the surrounding warriors first, but doing so would leave an opening for Namgung Chang-hwi to exploit.
Suddenly, Namgung Chang-hwi gathered the momentum of the formation and unleashed a massive swing.
Boom—!
Heuk-gwol leaped back. In that brief window, Namgung Chang-hwi’s eyes darted around the battlefield.
Great Master Jibaek of Shaolin, Drunken Dog Beggar of the Beggar Sect... They were both still alive. It wasn't the worst-case scenario.
No—Drunken Dog Beggar just died.
"Elder...!"
Struck by a blast of Fist Astral Qi, Drunken Dog Beggar’s head exploded like a melon. Namgung Chang-hwi bit his lip hard.
‘This is the worst.’
The balance they had barely managed to maintain was completely shattered. Knowing full well what a single Super Peak expert with free hands could do to a battlefield, his mind raced.
"...Save the Beggar Sect!"
The warriors in the sword formation moved quickly, shifting to merge with the Beggar Sect's lines.
The Black Lotus Union simply watched them scramble. The outcome of the battle was already decided.
"Not bad for someone raised like a flower in a greenhouse."
Cheok Mu-gang of the Black Dragon Sect let out a boisterous laugh. He was the one who had just crushed Drunken Dog Beggar’s head. Behind him stood the hulking warriors of the Black Dragon Sect, radiating a savage aura.
"Shut up. That Namgung brat is mine, so don't touch him."
At Heuk-gwol’s words, Cheok Mu-gang snorted.
"Then what, am I supposed to just sit and watch? I really don't want to jump in over there."
He pointed to where Shaolin and the North Sea Ice Palace were clashing. The area was a chaotic mess of freezing air and the golden light shattering it.
Watching the two of them chat leisurely, Namgung Chang-hwi sent a message via Voice Transmission.
[ Retreat while you can. If you stay here, everyone dies. Take whoever you can and head for Anhui. I will hold them back. ]
There was no reply. Instead, the Namgung warriors who received the message glared at Namgung Chang-hwi.
"We cannot do that."
One of them raised his sword high.
"Namgung Invincible! Unrivaled under Heaven!"
"The Sword of Namgung! Unbending and Unyielding!"
As the battle cries rippled through the others, Namgung Chang-hwi furrowed his brow.
"You are all too young..."
What was the point of dying with such spirit? Glory only had meaning if one lived to see it.
Though it was a shameless thought for the man who had just ordered them to die with him, he wouldn't hesitate if he saw a path to survival.
"You fools."
Exhaling a sigh, Namgung Chang-hwi leveled his sword. Fine. Since it had come to this, he would just cut down the enemy and return alive.
Heuk-gwol, watching them with a strange expression, smirked.
"This could be fun."
"No, we should retreat."
"What?"
Heuk-gwol frowned, but Cheok Mu-gang shook his head.
Despite his brutish appearance—looking as if his brain was made of muscle—he served as the strategist on this battlefield.
"Their reinforcements have arrived. Two Super Peak experts. We've already gained enough; there's no need to fight them."
"Goddammit."
Heuk-gwol turned away irritably. Cheok Mu-gang waved a hand at Namgung Chang-hwi.
"See you next time."
"Where do you think you're going?"
A cold voice drifted down from the sky. Cheok Mu-gang looked up.
‘When did he...?’
A man standing high in the sky looked down at the earth, his ten fingers pressed together.
At each fingertip, a sphere of murky energy was forming. Cheok Mu-gang’s expression hardened at the ominous power radiating from them.
"Heuk-gwol! We have to block it!"
"What the hell is that...?"
Five spheres plummeted downward. Heuk-gwol and Cheok Mu-gang both unleashed their Astral Qi to intercept them.
BOOM—CRASH—RUMBLE!!!
The moment they collided, a massive explosion erupted downward, sweeping across the ground with devastating force.
Cheok Mu-gang waved his hand to clear the dust, his face turning grim.
"...Who the hell are you?"
Dozens of Black Lotus Union warriors were dead. Several Peak Realm experts had perished, and everyone below that rank had been instantly wiped out.
Meanwhile, not a single warrior of the Righteous Faction had been harmed. To control internal energy to such an extreme degree... he was a terrifying master.
As the man descended to the ground, his black martial robes fluttered. Cheok Mu-gang shuddered as his gaze met those pitch-black eyes through the falling snow.
"My Lord...! Wait for me!"
Thump!
A massive figure landed beside the man. He looked like a mountain bandit, but beneath that rugged appearance, he wore blue martial robes.
"Namgung?"
Cheok Mu-gang’s mind raced as he reached a conclusion.
"I see. So that guy is Jin Gi-jae-cheon."
"What? Then, what do we do?"
"Let's pull back. Our reinforcements will arrive soon anyway; it's better to wait."
"Will he let us go?"
"He'll have to."
Cheok Mu-gang smirked.
Without warning, he fired a burst of Fist Astral Qi toward the distant medical tent.
"Oh no...!"
Namgung Chang-hwi quickly moved to block it. Seo-jun, moving only his eyes, flicked his index and middle fingers simultaneously.
Boom!
A massive Finger Pellet intercepted the Fist Astral Qi, detonating it mid-air.
He could feel it through his Qi Sensing. There were wounded inside that tent.
Leaving the glaring Seo-jun behind, the Black Lotus Union warriors retreated rapidly into the night.
The North Sea Ice Palace warriors, who had been fighting the Shaolin monks, also vanished quickly with their subordinates.
Seo-jun watched their retreating backs, then turned his gaze to the battlefield.
The dead, the severely wounded, the lightly injured.
With his power, he could save some of those who were dying.
They would have to endure a small price themselves, but surely keeping their lives was worth it.
"Gather the critically injured quickly."
Namgung Chang-hwi, who had been staring blankly at Seo-jun, nodded.
"...I will do so."