Chapter 330
Chapter 330
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 89
>Chapter Title: Sichuan Turmoil (2)
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The second floor of the inn.
A group of men carrying weapons were engaged in a hushed conversation in whispers.
"Those damn mountain bandit bastards have truly lost their minds. To think they'd dare invade Sichuan—what they call the realm of the orthodox sects—and pull off such nonsense."
"Eldest senior brother, are you just going to stand by and watch? Shouldn't we step in to help the Tang Clan?"
"Calm down, Fourth Junior Brother. Surely you've heard the rumors floating around."
"No way, Eldest Senior Brother, you can't seriously believe that. No matter what, the Tang Clan harboring heretics...?"
"Shh. Quiet."
"......My apologies. In any case, there's no way the Tang Clan would do that, right?"
"Even so, the rumors have spread far too quickly. It's probably the work of those Green Forest bandit scum."
"Then what do we do? Are you just going to sit back and watch? If the Green Forest bandits clash with the Tang Clan, we Qingcheng Sect will have to help."
"I'd like to, but we lack the justification. If it turns out the Tang Clan really did those things, the people of the Central Plains will condemn us. If we rush in recklessly, we could get dragged into it ourselves."
"That's why we took off our Taoist robes, isn't it?"
"Tch. Fourth Junior Brother, no matter that they're bandits, the one leading them is the Bandit King of the Green Forest. Do you think a superhuman with the title of Eight Stars wouldn't recognize Qingcheng Sect swordsmanship?"
"Kuh."
"Your words are right, junior brothers. For now, let's hold back and observe. I hear they're still in a standoff, so soon enough we'll know if it's true or not...!?"
At that moment, the middle-aged man referred to as Eldest Senior Brother among the group stood up and turned his gaze toward the floor below.
The man next to him asked in puzzlement.
"Eldest Senior Brother, what's wrong?"
"Can you see them?"
Following the middle-aged man's glance, the group looked toward that spot.
Someone with two swords at their waist was heading outside, followed by what appeared to be martial artists trailing behind them.
Anyone could tell at a glance—they weren't ordinary fighters, but people of the martial world.
Among them, one person particularly stood out.
"Don't you recognize that guy?"
He was a muscular bald man wearing a tattered kasaya robe torn around the arms, with a broken rosary necklace around his neck.
One of the men staring intently at him spoke up.
"Th-that guy... could he be Golden Bell, one of the Three Madmen?"
"Only now do you recognize him?"
His words caused the men to stir in agitation.
They had been focused on their conversation and sitting toward the back, so they hadn't noticed him until now.
However, their Eldest Senior Brother had been sitting facing the side overlooking the lower floor, so he seemed to have spotted the mad monk.
Most of those called the Three Madmen were lunatics who had earned their reputation for madness.
Thus, regardless of their origins, most orthodox faction members treated them almost like demonic heretics.
The defrocked Shaolin monk Golden Bell was no exception.
"What is that mad monk doing in a place like this?"
"Shh. Keep it down. They're still heading out."
"But Eldest Senior Brother..."
"That's the table they were sitting at. Look over there."
At the words of the man called Eldest Senior Brother, everyone looked toward the table with food bowls.
Half-eaten food bowls were visible there.
Nearly all the bowls still had noodles and food left, suggesting they had gotten up in the middle of eating.
One man said with widened eyes.
"Did they get up midway through?"
"Golden Bell the defrocked monk and the others all look like martial artists, so I kept an eye on them just in case. They suddenly stood up in the middle."
"Then that means they overheard our conversation?"
"It's possible."
The men couldn't hide their dismay at their Eldest Senior Brother's words.
If they had eavesdropped on their conversation and then stood up midway through their meal...
"What if they're in league with the Green Forest bandits?"
"I can't say for sure if they are, but I can't rule it out either."
"Eldest Senior Brother, then we can't just let them go. I've heard the Tang Clan is already at a numerical disadvantage. If experts from the unorthodox factions join the Green Forest to help them, things could get even worse."
"I think the same."
"Then what will you do?"
"We lack justification to directly aid the Tang Clan, but it seems we must stop reinforcements from reaching the Green Forest."
"Yes!"
At his words, all the men rose from their seats.
* * *
Outside the Tang Clan manor in Sichuan,
A massive bandit force surrounded the large estate.
Even at a glance, their numbers—tens of thousands—were nearly three times those defending inside the Tang Clan manor.
The Green Forest bandits had oil barrels and braziers at the ready, fully prepared to loose fire arrows at any moment.
The Tang Clan warriors watching from atop the walls wore grim expressions.
Some among them had plenty of combat experience, but facing off like this in a siege defense of their home base was a first.
Having entered their third day on high alert for a battle that could erupt at any moment, they couldn't tear their eyes away from the Green Forest bandits even for a second.
Among the Tang Clan warriors, those guarding the main gate glared with eyes full of hatred at certain figures in the distance.
-Crunch crunch!
The ones they glared at were none other than the Bandit King of the Green Forest, Seok Pae-ung, and the Green Forest executives, who had pitched a large tent about twenty-odd zhang away directly opposite the gate, sitting beneath it with a lavish spread of drinks and food.
'Damn bandit scum!'
'Are they taunting us right now?'
Anyone could see it was a provocative act.
And of course, that was exactly right.
"Uahaha! Have a drink, everyone."
"Coming all the way to Sichuan for a feast like this."
They deliberately made a raucous show of tipping their cups and tearing into meat.
It was to demoralize the Tang Clan warriors and rile them up.
And it was surprisingly effective.
Being numerically superior, the Green Forest bandits maintained their encirclement through shifts day and night, but the Tang Clan warriors, outnumbered, stood guard sleeplessly with wide-open eyes all day long.
Naturally, fatigue accumulated, and their tempers frayed.
Amid the Tang Clan warriors' haggard faces, Hyeong Taek—known as the Flying Death Guest and the Bandit King's left arm—bared his yellow teeth and spoke to one of the executives.
"Kekekek. Bandit King, it seems to be working. I wondered why you gave them four days' grace, but it wasn't just that—you're planning to bore them to death."
"It's a side benefit."
"A side benefit? So there's another reason?"
"That's...... something you don't need to know."
With that, Bandit King Seok Pae-ung drained his cup.
Suddenly, a memory surfaced in his mind of 'her' words.
[It might be hard to drag it out long, but how about giving them four or five days' grace?]
"Grace?"
[Yes. Even a hunted rat will bite the pursuing cat's throat when cornered in a dead end. So how about giving them time to think?]
"Giving them time to think would be good..."
At first, he thought there was merit to it.
Blind war wasn't his goal; capturing the heretics was.
But did he really need to give them four or five days?
If justification was the issue, that was one thing, but since they held the advantage of the Tang Clan sheltering heretics, there was no need to extend grace that long.
Pushing them without giving time to think—perhaps just half a day—might be better.
But having already made the proposal, withdrawing it midway would look bad.
He simply hoped the Tang Clan lord wouldn't make the foolish choice of protecting the heretics.
* * *
Mok Kyung-un's group raced southwest in their carriage and horses after leaving Deokyang.
However, just a li short of leaving the village, their path was blocked by a group.
They were about thirty masked men in gray uniforms.
Seop Chun sighed at the sight of them all carrying swords and spoke to Mong Mu-yak, who was riding alongside.
"There's no way mountain bandits would be on a forest path this close to the village... It must be those guys from the inn."
"Looks like it."
Mong Mu-yak nodded in response.
Though masked, they all wore similar gray uniforms, and having rented out the entire second floor of the inn, he remembered the group clearly.
"Hey, you guys. Covering your faces is fine, but didn't it occur to you to change your weapons or clothes?"
"......"
The gray-uniformed men fell silent at Seop Chun's shout.
They had no answer for that.
To overtake the departing group with lightness skill, they hadn't had time to worry about attire.
They had masked up midway, but even that was ambiguous for an official appearance, so they wore them just in case.
The Eldest Senior Brother among the gray-uniformed men stepped forward and shouted.
"Where are you headed?"
At the question, Defrocked Monk Golden Bell, who had been sipping from his gourd, chuckled and replied.
"What business is it of yours where this poor monk goes?"
His sarcastic remark made one of the gray-uniformed men snap back angrily.
"You're not going to aid the Green Forest bandits?"
"Green Forest? You mean those bandit hordes?"
"Don't play dumb. You're going to help the Green Forest attack the Tang Clan, aren't you?"
"Help the Green Forest? Ha? That's a fresh idea."
Golden Bell scoffed at their words.
-Creeeak!
Then, the carriage door opened slightly, and someone peeked out.
It was Mok Kyung-un.
"What's going on?"
Mara Hyeon, the masked one guarding beside the carriage, answered.
"Seems like the ones from the inn's second floor have chased us down."
"Oh, those guys."
"Yes. What should we do?"
Mok Kyung-un lightly scanned the gray-uniformed men and casually said.
"I'm in a hurry, so have just one or two stay behind to handle them and catch up."
-Thud!
With that, Mok Kyung-un slipped back inside the carriage.
Not only his subordinates heard the words, so the gray-uniformed men were left dumbfounded.
'Huh?'
'Handle us?'
Though they had concealed their identities, they were elite sword experts of the prestigious orthodox Qingcheng Sect.
Dispatched to assess the situation after hearing of the Tang Clan's standoff with the Green Forest, such words couldn't help but wound their pride.
The Eldest Senior Brother stepped forward, revealing his anger.
"What arrogant fools. You dare show such confidence without knowing who we are? If you wish to leave this place, prepare yourse—"
Qingcheng Sect's Eldest Senior Brother stopped mid-sentence.
He had raised his voice, yet none of them were even listening to him.
"The master said to do it, so who'll handle it? Mask, you want to? Or should this monk do it?"
"......"
"If you don't want to, at least say something. Damn it. I just don't like you anyway. Just have one of you two stay and deal with them. Or is that guy the problem? Fine, both of you handle it. This monk's pride is hurt because of him, so I can't."
"You think we don't know you're just passing the buck because it's a hassle?"
"Kehuhul."
Seop Chun clicked his tongue and looked at Qingcheng Sect sword expert Hyeon Moon-ja, their Eldest Senior Brother, before speaking.
"That guy's the best they've got, at least."
Hyeon Moon-ja was a renowned swordsman even within Qingcheng Sect.
Excluding the sect leader and elders, he possessed the highest martial prowess.
'He's reached the early stage of transcendent realm.'
Mong Mu-yak, instantly gauging his skill, felt his competitive spirit ignite.
His own prowess had risen sharply of late, and he itched to test it against a proper opponent.
Thus, Mong Mu-yak said.
"I'll handle that one. You take the rest, Seop Chun."
"What? I was going to take him."
Seop Chun felt the same.
Eager to test his increased strength, he wanted the most standout opponent.
At their bickering, Hyeon Moon-ja's anger truly boiled over.
The only one he was wary of was Golden Bell, one of the Three Madmen, the Mad Vajra Fist Master.
Yet these young-looking punks thought so little of him as to heap such humiliation.
-Shing!
Hyeon Moon-ja half-drew his sword and stepped forward.
But right then—
-No. It'd be faster if I handled it.
The voice of that young punk from the carriage—who had spoken of handling them—came from inside.
What kind of madman was this brat, spouting such arrogance even with their identities hidden?
He needed to be taught a lesson...
-Creeeak!
At that moment.
The carriage door opened, and two swords floated out from within as if alive.
'!!!!!!!'
Seeing this, Hyeon Moon-ja froze, his sword half-drawn.
< 89화 사천 풍운 (2) > End