Go Ahead and Try to Swallow This, Then. (3)
"Grrrr. Gamyung, honey water… Get me some honey water…"
"…Alliance Leader."
Ho Gamyeong let out a long, quiet sigh.
Honestly, why did this man, despite being such a fearsome martial artist, insist on handling a hangover like an idiot instead of just forcing it out with internal energy?
"…Honey water."
"Yes, sir."
But rather than scolding Jang Il-so, Ho Gamyeong simply ordered a maid to bring the honey water at once. Then he took the bowl when it arrived and even infused it with a touch of cold qi himself, so Jang Il-so could drink it nice and chilled.
"Here. Drink."
"Ugh."
Jang Il-so took the bowl Ho Gamyeong held out, his face twisted in discomfort, and began gulping it down.
Then he snapped in an irritated voice.
"It’s cold!"
"…"
The words Why don’t I just quit being your strategist and all this nonsense? rose all the way to the tip of Ho Gamyeong’s tongue, but he swallowed them with superhuman restraint.
To be honest, for once, he didn’t even feel like picking a fight with Jang Il-so.
That was because he had seen, with his own two eyes, what this man had just done. No—what he had accomplished.
No way.
He never would have imagined, not even in his wildest dreams, that the one Jang Il-so had encountered would be that person.
He’s on an entirely different level.
This was what people meant when they said imagination could never catch up to reality.
This was the difference between a ruler and a strategist.
When it came to planning things precisely and in detail, to executing a course of action step by step, Ho Gamyeong was unquestionably superior to Jang Il-so. But the one who sat in the ruler’s seat saw the broader picture—one a strategist could scarcely even imagine.
Jang Il-so was the kind of man who took stories that sounded like fantasies and dragged them, kicking and screaming, into the realm of reality.
And Ho Gamyeong knew just how extraordinary his lord truly was—which only made him more dissatisfied.
"…I understand why you feel that way, but no matter how I think about it, there’s no need for you, Alliance Leader, to deal with those small fry personally."
"Tsk, tsk. And after I’ve told you this every time."
Jang Il-so clicked his tongue at the sight of Ho Gamyeong’s blunt expression.
Then he threw off the blanket. Rising from the bed, he began to walk slowly.
The maids hurried over at once, removing his sleeping robe and dressing him. They wiped his body down with a wet towel, then dried it thoroughly with a dry one. Over his exposed upper body, they put on an inner garment made of expensive silk.
"If I neglect the small things, then I myself become nothing more than a pig. Haven’t I told you that many times? Do you want me to become a greasy pig?"
Jang Il-so, accustomed to being dressed by the maids, glanced over at Ho Gamyeong. His gaze was like a blade.
That knife-like look cut straight toward Ho Gamyeong.
Before he realized it, Ho Gamyeong flinched. He knew exactly what that look meant.
A clear rebuke.
A warning that Ho Gamyeong had gone beyond what Jang Il-so was willing to tolerate.
"This subordinate was foolish, Alliance Leader!"
Ho Gamyeong dropped to the floor on the spot.
The sharp gaze Jang Il-so had been sending him softened at once.
"Tsk, tsk. Gamyung, Gamyung."
"…"
"Why do you think I say things like that? Of course I know. You don’t like the sight of your Alliance Leader drinking and laughing with common trash."
"…That is indeed how I felt."
"And you’re not wrong."
The maids’ hands continued straightening Jang Il-so’s robes.
"A person needs rank. The dignity a warrior needs, the dignity a bandit chief needs, and the dignity an alliance leader needs—they are all different."
"I think so too."
"But that’s only how someone thinks when they’re content with that position. The moment you become drunk on your place, all that remains is the fall."
Jang Il-so’s face grew vicious.
"If I had only intended to be a mere alliance leader, I would never have shared a cup with such people. But if I want more—if I’m still hungry!"
He lifted a hand and covered part of his own face as if clutching it.
"Then even if the cup is mixed with the spit they’ve coughed into it, I must still be able to drink it gladly. Authority doesn’t come from attitude. It comes from power."
"…"
"I…"
He broke off for a moment, then lowered the hand over his face. As if nothing had happened, a gentle smile returned to his features.
"I’m growing stronger even now, Gamyung. A martial artist should never stop becoming stronger, should he?"
"The Alliance Leader’s words are absolutely, unquestionably correct!"
Still lying prostrate as he listened, Ho Gamyeong slammed his forehead against the floor.
Jang Il-so frowned.
"No, why are you banging your head like that? You’ll hurt yourself."
"…"
"Get up. Up, I said. I’ve told you not to keep throwing yourself on the ground for no reason, and you still never listen. Tsk, tsk."
Ho Gamyeong carefully rose to his feet.
Every time this happened, he was reminded all over again that Jang Il-so was the Tyrant Lord.
Jang Il-so was not someone he could ever afford to treat lightly. Not in any way, and for any reason. It wasn’t simply because of his overwhelming authority or terrifying power.
It was because he was that kind of person.
The maid slowly finished arranging Jang Il-so’s face, powdering it snow-white, dabbing red on his eyelids, and drawing his brows before quietly stepping back. Jang Il-so then dipped a finger into lip color and applied it to his own lips.
"Anyway, that—"
Bang!
"Alliance Leader!"
At that exact moment, the door flew open with a crash, and at the shout that burst in with it, the pinky finger that had been moving so delicately over Jang Il-so’s lips twitched ever so slightly out of place.
"…Tsk."
A thick unhappiness settled over Jang Il-so’s face.
When Ho Gamyeong noticed the flash of killing intent that appeared in an instant, he shouted quickly.
"How dare you barge in here making such a racket! You idiot!"
"S-sorry! It’s urgent!"
"Shut up! You—"
"…Enough."
Jang Il-so took the towel being handed to him and wiped away the smeared lip color, then turned to look at the person who had rushed in. The murderous intent that had been lingering in his eyes was gone as if washed away.
"You must be busy if you’re coming in like that. So. What is it?"
"The Plum Blossom… no, the water bandits and bandits from Jiujiang have retreated from the island."
"From where?"
"That island, sir. The one occupied by the Mount Hua brats…"
"…Maehwado, then."
Jang Il-so swept the loose strand of hair falling over his forehead upward with his finger. Instantly, a maid stepped forward, combed it back, and placed a crown over his head.
"They abandoned Maehwado and pulled back?"
"Yes! That’s right. And the Sichuan Tang Family has also withdrawn from the Yangtze and is returning to Sichuan."
Ho Gamyeong asked in surprise.
"Just like that?"
"…From the speed this news reached us, I imagine they may already have withdrawn and departed."
"No, this is…"
Ho Gamyeong shut his mouth.
The sudden flood of information refused to settle itself in his head.
What are they thinking?
He could understand the logic.
Once they crossed the Yangtze, the Sichuan Tang Family—the very force protecting Maehwado and the river—would be in the greatest danger. Now that the situation had stabilized, pulling them back was not strange in itself.
What Ho Gamyeong couldn’t understand was the urgency behind it.
We haven’t even moved yet.
Elsewhere, perhaps. A frightened man rushed at everything. That much made sense.
But Mount Hua was not that kind of place.
Mount Hua—the sect where everyone had apparently lost their minds as a group. The place where one could only wonder what sort of lunatic fuel they had swallowed to become so utterly deranged. The place that had produced the Mount Hua Sword Hero.
That was Mount Hua.
Even when the Wudang had been so terrified they surrendered, Mount Hua had still stubbornly charged at Jang Il-so and Maninbang.
That was the Mount Hua now leading the Heavenly Alliance, and they were already frightened and abandoning the Yangtze? Giving up a place that, if they simply held on, guaranteed enormous gains?
No way.
If it was Mount Hua—if it was the Heavenly Alliance he knew—they would never throw away such huge profits over mere concern.
Then what in the world were they doing this for…
"Anyway…"
Then Jang Il-so clicked his tongue, brushing back the strand of hair that had slipped loose again.
"That brat is something else. The moment he was freed from the cage, he started sticking knives into people’s ribs. Tsk, tsk, tsk."
Ho Gamyeong looked at his lord’s face and flinched.
There was something strange there. A look that was deeply irritated, and yet filled with some inexplicable delight.
"So he says he won’t be toyed with so easily, does he? Good. That’s how he should be."
After hearing Jang Il-so’s words, Ho Gamyeong could no longer hold back.
"Who are you referring to?"
"Who do you think?"
"…Are you speaking of the Mount Hua Sword Hero again?"
Jang Il-so didn’t bother answering. Ho Gamyeong knew silence was affirmation when he heard it.
But he could not accept this situation so easily.
It was perfectly natural for Jang Il-so to exist in a realm beyond his understanding. But how could some little upstart like the Mount Hua Sword Hero possibly exist in that same realm?
"Alliance Leader. This subordinate dares to offer a word."
"Go on."
"…In my opinion, you are overestimating the Mount Hua Sword Hero. He is not someone who can so much as exchange moves with you, Alliance Leader. And wasn’t even that grand title of Mount Hua Sword Hero one that we ourselves gave him?"
"Why do you think that?"
"That boy…"
"Tsk, tsk. Gamyung."
"…Yes?"
"Do you know how old I was when I first entered the jianghu?"
When Ho Gamyeong failed to answer, Jang Il-so spoke as though he found the matter amusing.
"Compared to back then, I’m a little more experienced now, and a little more cautious. And I’m incomparably stronger."
"That is so, Alliance Leader."
"But I’m not any smarter."
"…"
"That’s what people are. Growth is ultimately just the question of how much of what you already have you can draw out. A tiger is still a tiger even when it’s a cub, and a dog is still a dog even when fully grown. A dragon needn’t even be mentioned."
Ho Gamyeong bit his lip.
Jang Il-so’s words could not be wrong. But he didn’t want to admit it.
Was it mere jealousy?
No.
The reason he was angry wasn’t that the Mount Hua Sword Hero was better than him. It was that the boy dared to encroach on Jang Il-so’s existence. To Ho Gamyeong, that was nothing short of blasphemy.
"And even if your words were true, it changes nothing. The important question isn’t whether that brat can exchange moves with me, but that the move he made is already tightening around my throat."
"You say it is tightening around your throat…"
"Map!"
"Yes!"
The maids hurried off and brought back a large map. When they spread it across the broad table, Jang Il-so’s long, slender finger pointed to the middle of the Yangtze.
"What do you think?"
"…Pardon?"
"This Maehwado, I mean."
At Jang Il-so’s words, Ho Gamyeong looked at Maehwado anew and tilted his head.
"I’m not sure. It’s naturally a strategic strong point for soldiers, but is it really that important to a martial artist? Besides, we’ve already secured the Yangtze completely through the Water Bandit Sect."
"Tsk, tsk. You still only think about fighting."
"Then…"
"Do you know how much material has been flowing through here?"
Jang Il-so gave a thin, rasping laugh.
"Over these damned three years, the amount of goods entering Jiangnan through Maehwado has skyrocketed. If this place gets cut off now, it means our own throat is the one being squeezed."
"Ah…"
"That damned bastard."
Jang Il-so ground his teeth. Yet even as he did, the corners of his mouth curled upward in satisfaction.
"This hurts. It hurts so much… so very much."
His blazing eyes turned toward the far distance.
Toward the far north, toward some mountain standing in a savage, jagged range.
