Who Would Help? (1)
Hainan Island. A vast island at the southernmost tip of the Central Plains.
Lying so far south of what the people of the Central Plains called the “Central Plains” that, in the past, it had been used mainly as a place of exile, it was difficult for people to live there in a different way than it was in the north. The climate was hot, the air thick with moisture, and survival itself was no simple matter.
And yet those who were born and raised in Hainan lived out their days in a peace of their own.
But the atmosphere that now ruled Hainan was heavier than it had ever been.
In truth, Hainan was so remote, and so small—only about half the size of an ordinary fortress—that it barely left an impression on the minds of the general public. And yet the reason its name was so often mentioned was because of one sect seated halfway up Hainan's Mount Oji.
Hainan Sect. The sect that had taken the place Mount Hua left behind and risen as a new member of the Ten Great Sects.
Though in terms of history and lineage it could hardly compare to the traditional powerhouses of the Ten Great Sects, the Ten Great Sects were still the Ten Great Sects. Merely occupying even the lowest seat among them was enough to tell anyone all they needed to know about the Hainan Sect's standing.
The central hall of the Hainan Sect, the residence of the sect leader. From that place, which should have been steeped in solemn reverence, a gloomy voice was now leaking out.
“...Has there been any word?”
The voice, which had broken off for a moment, continued with obvious effort.
“Has any message come?”
Geum Yang-baek, the Hainan Sect's sect leader, asked the elders as he looked at them. Oddly enough, though he was clearly asking a question, there was no expectation in his voice at all.
A question that expected no answer. That was what we called self-mockery.
“Not yet...?”
Even the answer came out incomplete. The hesitant, embarrassed way it trailed off said more about Hainan's current plight than any direct admission could.
“I see.”
Geum Yang-baek let out a short, humorless laugh. The cold sarcasm in that laugh only made the elders feel even more stifled.
“Sect Leader... This is not the time to give up hope yet. Given the situation, it's possible the message simply hasn't reached us properly.”
“What difference does it make?”
A trace of cold amusement passed over Geum Yang-baek's mouth.
“What difference is there between wanting to help but being unable to make contact, and having no intention to help so never making contact at all? The result is the same.”
“...Sect Leader.”
“And if there are those trying to get in touch? If there are people who truly want to save Hainan, then what changes? They still can't help. Should I be comforted by the fact that, after Hainan is wiped out, there will at least be those who feel sorry for us?”
The elder who had spoken lowered his head and fell silent.
For he too knew very well that the words he had just offered were nothing more than empty consolation.
Geum Yang-baek exhaled a long sigh. He had snapped at them out of frustration, but it wasn't as though he could truly blame these people. What could the elders possibly do in a situation like this?
“What is the Evil Tyrant Alliance doing?”
“They have not shown any unusual movement yet.”
“...And it's not because we simply haven't managed to find out?”
Again, there was no real answer.
To be blunt, how could they possibly know what the Evil Tyrant Alliance was doing? They couldn't even send a single disciple across the sea into Jiangnan.
The information network they had painstakingly built had been smashed to pieces, and the Beggars' Union, which had once shared intelligence with them, had long since withdrawn from Jiangnan.
Isolated and without aid.
The only thing they could know now was the condition of this island.
People, information, even birds in the sky—none of them came to this island. Only news that shook the world so badly it couldn't help but spread would eventually, after a long delay, reach Hainan at last.
“Sect Leader... We may not have received word, but if the situation turns truly dire, there will surely be sects willing to help us. Shaolin would not simply stand by while all this happens...”
“Would it not?”
Cutting him off mid-sentence, Geum Yang-baek gave a dry laugh.
“Yes, yes. So after deep and careful thought, the abbot has graciously chosen to leave Hainan alone all this time, and it is I, the petty fool, who has failed to grasp his intentions and is now whining about it.”
“...”
“When the time comes, of course they will help on their own. I am simply worrying too much, is that it?”
At last, the elders shut their mouths tightly.
Geum Yang-baek had never been the sort of man to speak with such biting sarcasm. If anything, he had been the kind of person one could safely call good-natured. But after years of being isolated and oppressed by the Evil Tyrant Alliance, he had grown sharper of tongue and harsher in temperament with every passing day.
Noticing the elders' discomfort, Geum Yang-baek let out another heavy sigh.
“...Forgive me. This is not something I should be taking out on you.”
“It is nothing, Sect Leader. How could we not understand how deeply you must be suffering?”
Despair also stained the faces of the elders.
Their hearts were no different.
How could they have no resentment toward the Ten Great Sects?
The Ten Great Sects were not merely symbols of authority. Even when they were bickering among themselves and competing for influence, the moment foreign enemies or evil heretics rose up, they had always united as one to resist them. That was how the Ten Great Sects had earned the reputation they had today.
But ever since the treaty that declared Jiangnan off-limits, Hainan had received no support whatsoever from the other sects of the Ten Great Sects. So they had been forced to bear, all alone, the threat of the Evil Tyrant Alliance like a wolf baring its teeth right at their doorstep.
“Has the Beggars' Union still not sent anyone?”
“...No, Sect Leader.”
“When was the last time someone from the Beggars' Union came?”
“A year... Yes. A year ago.”
Geum Yang-baek stared dazedly at the ceiling.
“Has it already been that long?”
After muttering those words, he fell silent for a long time. Then slowly, he spoke again.
“No matter how sharp the Evil Tyrant Alliance's blade may be, no matter how imposing Jang Il-so's might may be... we are still talking about the Beggars' Union of all things. Is it truly possible they can't even send a single person?”
“Sect Leader...”
“Heh heh heh.”
Geum Yang-baek gave a low laugh. The empty sound of it spread sadly through the not-so-large hall.
“How ridiculous. They say a dog abandoned by its master doesn't even realize it has been cast aside and simply keeps waiting for its owner. Aren't we exactly the same? Even now, in a situation like this, we keep waiting for news from the Ten Great Sects, never knowing when it will come.”
It was a truly miserable and sorrowful self-mockery.
No matter how terrible the situation, he was still the head of a sect. More than that, he was the leader of a major sect, one that stood among the Ten Great Sects. Such a man should not be comparing his sect to a dog.
Yet no one could bring themselves to rebuke him. That was because Geum Yang-baek cared for Hainan more deeply than anyone else present.
“What do you think?”
“...”
“Do you truly believe that when the Evil Tyrant Alliance bares its fangs, the Ten Great Sects will send support?”
“They... they will. They must. Isn't that the way of righteousness and duty?”
One of the elders spoke up again.
“If it's a sect like Shaolin, surely they can't ignore it simply because of how others would look at them.”
Geum Yang-baek gave a small nod at that, but there was no strength in the gesture. No conviction behind it.
“Then let me ask again. Do you think the support Shaolin sends will arrive in time?”
“That...”
No one could answer that with any certainty.
No, it wasn't that they lacked conviction. On the contrary, they were certain of it. Shaolin would surely send support.
But that support would never arrive in time. Whether Shaolin acted in earnest or merely went through the motions, the result would be the same.
“What Shaolin wants is an adequate pretext and some adequate benefit.”
Geum Yang-baek laughed hollowly.
It was obvious.
“They'll issue stern warnings and try to punish the enemy by force. But... will the ones they send for that punishment really venture deep into Jiangnan?”
“...”
“They'll probably just make a show of force at the mouth of the Yangtze and leave it at that.”
“S-Sect Leader... Surely Shaolin wouldn't go that far...”
“To them, is Hainan worth risking their main force to save?”
Geum Yang-baek clenched his teeth.
“If Mount Hua hadn't fallen so suddenly, and if there hadn't been a need to hastily fill the empty seat it left behind, do you really think we would have ever been able to call ourselves one of the Ten Great Sects? Us—Hainan Sect, the very sect they quietly looked down on as though we were foreigners?”
At those words, everyone fell silent.
If Mount Hua had not fallen, it might have been forever impossible for Hainan to break through the solid wall of the Ten Great Sects. Everyone present knew that.
“In the end, when it came to the Ten Great Sects, we were nothing more than a sect meant to fill out the numbers.”
“Sect Leader...”
“Am I wrong?”
Open, unmistakable fury surged up on Geum Yang-baek's face.
“Do you mean to tell me Shaolin truly lacks the ability to send even one message to Hainan for an entire year?”
“...”
“That is a dreadful thing to hear. Because all it means is that the power of the Evil Tyrant Alliance has surpassed our expectations to the point where even Shaolin is rendered helpless!”
“Sect Leader! Please calm yourself. Shaolin would not wish to see the structure of the Ten Great Sects collapse. They...”
“What an amusing thing to say. I would wager Mount Hua would have clutched its stomach and laughed had it heard that.”
No one could refute that.
Even if one sect were to collapse without leaving behind so much as its foundation stones, the solid structure of the Ten Great Sects would not fall apart. Another prestigious sect would simply take its place.
Hadn't Hainan itself once been the beneficiary of that process? Now that the roles had reversed after a hundred years, what was so strange about it?
“The Ten Great Sects will take criticism, of course. They'll be pointed at and insulted. But will it last forever?”
“...”
“If, in the end, they succeed in blocking the Evil Tyrant Alliance, then they'll call it a necessary sacrifice, and praise the abbot's decision not to waste their strength on Hainan as a razor-sharp act of resolve. Wouldn't they?”
“Sect Leader...”
“This is the nature of people's hearts, in the end.”
Geum Yang-baek gave a faint laugh.
“It will all be forgotten. The way the world forgot Mount Hua. No—probably even faster than that.”
Geum Yang-baek closed his eyes.
He had already seen it. He knew how thoroughly those who had sinned could erase the evidence of their own guilt. What Mount Hua had once endured, Hainan would now endure.
What pained his heart the most, in all of this, was that Hainan—one of the most active participants in that past—no longer even had the right to loudly condemn and curse this situation.
While everyone remained silent in utter despair, Geum Yang-baek heard a muttering voice by his ear.
“At this point, it might have been better to... join the Heavenly Friends Alliance.”
Instantly, every gaze in the hall turned toward the speaker.
The elder who had spoken hesitated with a slightly awkward expression, then finally said, as though spitting out a grievance he had held too long:
“If it’s the Heavenly Friends Alliance, a force willing to march all the way into Jiangnan, where the Evil Tyrant Alliance rules, simply because the Demonic Sect has appeared... then they wouldn't abandon a sect of their own alliance just because the distance is inconvenient, would they?”
With those words, the mood inside the hall sank sharply, and without end.