Tell You What Real Despair Means (5)
Beop Jeong stared at Maehwado with an utterly baffled expression.
Maninbang’s fleet, led by Jang Il-so, had blocked the view between them and the island, but even through the gaps between the ships, it wasn’t hard to take in the scene and understand the situation.
...What on earth is happening?
War was raging. In the midst of that ferocious chaos, Jang Il-so had arrived at Maehwado. Anyone with a brain could guess what would follow after that.
And yet nothing was happening on Maehwado now. Not a single scream, not a single clash of steel could be heard.
It was quiet.
The silence was so deep it felt like it was cutting straight into the heart. Beop Jeong’s lips trembled at the corners.
He knew it instinctively. He knew the source of that silence.
Paegun, Jang Il-so.
He was clearly plotting something. It felt as though a massive serpent, one that now threatened even the heavens, had coiled itself around the island and was tightening its grip.
But...
What?
What in the world could he be trying to do in this situation? The moment Jang Il-so had arrived here, the moment he—no, the moment Shaolin had set foot on this island, the conclusion had practically been decided.
“...Amitabha.”
A Buddhist invocation slipped from his lips.
He couldn’t make sense of it at all. All he could feel was the thick, crawling malice pouring out of that island from Jang Il-so. Even watching from this distance made his skin crawl....
Please...
Whatever Jang Il-so was after, if they were dragged into it, the end would be obvious. Beop Jeong prayed that Namgung Hwang would make the right choice.
But even then, Beop Jeong still did not understand.
What he should have been focusing on was not the Namgung family’s reaction, but the true target of the serpent’s fangs wrapped around Maehwado.
Jang Il-so’s mouth twisted strangely as he turned to look at Namgung Hwang.
Namgung Hwang looked as if his soul had been ripped clean out of him. The figure that had once seemed like the embodiment of martial authority was gone. What remained was only a defeated man, someone manipulated by a silver tongue into denying everything he was.
“Hmm.”
Jang Il-so made a faint sound through his nose and slowly licked his red lips with his tongue.
“You’ve lost...”
“...”
“No, no, Namgung Hwang.”
Namgung Hwang slowly lifted his head, which had been bowed low. His jaw was trembling slightly, as if to show just what state he was holding himself together in.
“You should beg me to spare your life. Understand?”
“...”
“With all the shame and humiliation that entails. Yes, that’s how you should say it.”
It wasn’t the tone one would use toward an enemy. It sounded more like someone gently chiding a child who wouldn’t listen. For Namgung Hwang, that tone might have been even more humiliating than the situation itself.
“You seem to be misunderstanding something. This is not a contest between you and me. It’s certainly not a contest between Namgung Family and Maninbang. Do you understand?”
Jang Il-so’s wide smile was so bright it only made him look more vicious.
“You aren’t even qualified to speak of defeat before me.”
Namgung Hwang’s shoulders shook violently.
The giant who had carried the name of Namgung was crumbling now. Crumbling miserably, brutally.
“So say it properly once more.”
Jang Il-so’s whisper spread clearly across the island, where everyone held their breath.
“Beg me to spare your life.”
“...”
“Come now, Namgung Hwang. Plead with me. That’s what a good boy does.”
A cruel satisfaction bloomed on Jang Il-so’s face. More than any words, that expression said everything about the situation.
Without lifting a finger, Jang Il-so had forced Namgung Hwang and the Namgung family into a pit of utter defeat. Into a humiliation so terrible that even if they had all fought and died, they would not have felt anything worse.
Namgung Hwang tore his gaze away from Jang Il-so and looked at the retainers.
The people who had followed him here because they trusted him alone. The people who, even with things having come this far, had not said a single word of reproach. Could he bear to witness their deaths with his own eyes?
Namgung Hwang’s mouth twisted, then opened. From between his lips came a broken murmur, more pitiful than a blood-boiling shout.
“Spare...”
Jang Il-so watched with a smile.
“Spare...”
His jaw convulsed like a wreck, his eyes bloodshot, his hands trembling like leaves in a storm.
The giant of the age was finally about to lay it all down.
Whoosh!
In that instant, a sword flashed across the distance and raced straight for Jang Il-so’s face.
“Hm?”
Clang!
Jang Il-so calmly raised a hand and blocked the sword with the ring on his finger.
For a moment, absolute silence fell.
The most shocked of all were Namgung’s retainers. Every one of them widened their eyes and sucked in a sharp breath at the sight.
They groaned in despair, thinking the lifeline they had just barely grasped might have been severed by that one reckless strike.
Crackle.
The sound of Jang Il-so’s ring twisting against the blade rang out with a chill.
“...What do you think you’re doing, Young Master?”
Namgung Do-wi.
He bared his teeth and thrust his sword at Jang Il-so, gripping the hilt with enough force to make his knuckles whiten as he growled, “Don’t be ridiculous, Jang Il-so.”
“...”
“I am going to die here.”
Jang Il-so looked at him with interest.
“Do, Do-wi!”
A loud cry burst from Namgung Myeong’s mouth.
“What do you think you’re doing! Fall back!”
“Fall back?”
“W-what?”
Namgung Do-wi gritted his teeth and shot a glance over his shoulder. His bloodshot eyes looked as if they might pierce Namgung Myeong through at any moment.
“If I fall back, are you planning to beg this bastard for our lives and crawl back to Anhui?”
“...”
“And then tell the children waiting back in the family that we returned after fighting our best against the demonic bastards of the Sapa?”
The last words were almost a scream.
“Father!”
Namgung Do-wi shouted toward Namgung Hwang.
“A swordsman who has lost righteousness is no swordsman at all. The last thing we must protect is not our lives, but the soul of a martial artist!”
Namgung Hwang’s body trembled.
“Those are the words you taught me! You, of all people! And now you’re telling me to beg the Sapa to spare my life?”
At that agonized cry, Namgung Hwang bit down hard on his lip before speaking.
“...Stand down, Do-wi.”
“No. I will not stand down.”
“Do-wi!”
Namgung Do-wi glared at Jang Il-so.
“You said everyone chooses their own life, didn’t you, Jang Il-so?”
“I did.”
“Then I...”
His eyes were wavering. These were not the words of someone speaking with unshakable conviction. Even as he spoke, his heart was faltering again and again.
But precisely because of that, those words carried even more weight.
“I will die here.”
“...”
The moment those words fell, every swordsman of Namgung shuddered.
Youthful recklessness? The naive choice of someone who knew nothing?
Impossible.
That trembling hand said otherwise. Namgung Do-wi was fighting death itself head-on. He was baring his teeth and standing against the enormous evil that was Jang Il-so.
“Namgung Do-wi! What are you...”
Namgung Myeong tried to stop him in panic, but Namgung Do-wi cut him off.
“Live,” he said.
“...”
“Go back alive. That is not wrong. It is the right choice.”
Namgung Myeong shut his mouth.
“But someone has to... at least one of us has to preserve Namgung’s spirit. For the children who’ll have to face us when we return!”
Namgung Do-wi bit his lip so hard it nearly split.
“That is the role of one who bears Namgung’s blood.”
No one could speak.
They had all heard it countless times: the last thing that must be preserved is not life, but the soul of a martial artist. But in the end, pushed to the very edge, they had not been able to choose righteousness.
And yet here was Namgung Do-wi, still young enough to be called a child, carrying out what he had learned.
Solemnity and shame came crashing over them at once, tightening around their throats.
One of them lifted his head, eyes bloodshot. Another bowed his head instead, and another clenched a fist so hard his nails bit into his flesh.
Their reactions differed, but what they were thinking was clear. In a candle long extinguished, leaving only the stench of smoke, a faint flame had begun to flicker again.
Perhaps it was nothing.
Righteousness, honor—perhaps all of it really was nothing more than an illusion, just as Jang Il-so had said. But here, now, there was someone willing to stake his life on that illusion.
Crack.
Someone ground their teeth audibly. Their surging emotion spread like wildfire from the tips of their toes, and bloodshot eyes followed Namgung Do-wi’s back.
The one they had protected.
The future of Namgung that they had been willing to die to preserve.
That future was now throwing away its own life to protect their last shred of pride. Anyone who called himself a martial artist, anyone who could draw a sword and fight, could never watch this scene without being moved.
Death had returned to the eyes that had seemed dead moments before. As though if someone only opened the first gate, they would explode once more.
But in that moment, what they heard was Jang Il-so’s lazy, nasal voice.
“Hmmm.”
And the instant they heard what came next, everyone in Namgung instinctively knew that something had gone wrong.
“That’s right.”
Even Namgung Do-wi stared at Jang Il-so in confusion.
Paegun looked at Namgung Do-wi with a smile as gentle as could be.
“Yes, that’s how Namgung should be. I was worried, you see. Worried that you might all just bow your heads and beg pathetically and somehow live after leaving this place.”
Namgung Do-wi thought to himself that this man was a demon sent to beguile human beings.
That soft, warm voice, with not a trace of malice in it, was the voice of a demon. And behind that voice hid something deep and heavy, something human beings could never even imagine.
“Such a good young master.”
Jang Il-so smiled brightly, as if praising a child who had done a good deed.
Crack.
He pushed the sword away from his hand and casually flicked his fingers.
“There’s no helping it.”
Then he spread his arms slightly and shrugged, slow and easy.
“If you won’t accept mercy, then I’ll just have to give you what you want.”
“...”
“Ho Gamyeong.”
“Yes, Alliance Leader.”
“Withdraw everyone.”
Ho Gamyeong stared at his lord with eyes that had gone wide in an instant. The shock and bewilderment in them were so clear even the Namgung swordsmen could read it at a glance.
“...You mean Maninbang?”
Normally, he would never have dared to question Jang Il-so, but he was that taken aback.
Jang Il-so clicked his tongue, mildly displeased.
“Ho Gamyeong, you’re not listening. I said everyone. The entire Saperyeon is to withdraw from this island.”
“Al, Alliance Leader. That’s...”
Jang Il-so’s gaze cut sharply toward Ho Gamyeong. At that cold look, Ho Gamyeong flinched and lowered his head.
“I will carry out your orders.”
“Good, good.”
As if nothing had happened, Jang Il-so smiled again and slowly swept his gaze over Namgung Hwang, the Namgung family, and Namgung Do-wi.
“What moving righteousness.”
Then he nodded, like an actor stepping onto a perfectly prepared stage, his face one of genuine admiration.
At that moment, a more profound unease than ever before pierced Namgung Do-wi’s chest.
“Then it would only be proper to grant you a fitting end for that righteousness.”
Jang Il-so turned away. His crimson robe fluttered in the river wind like a pair of wings.
From the man who had turned his back came a quiet, even voice.
“Die here, then. Keep agonizing over whether your choice was right until the very end.”
Once his mind was made up, there wasn’t a trace of hesitation left.
Jang Il-so simply strode off. Ho Gamyeong gestured his orders at once.
The water bandits, still bewildered and unable to keep up with the turn of events, froze where they stood for a moment after receiving the signal. Then, with faces full of confusion, they began withdrawing from Maehwado.
It was an absurd sight—enemies who had once held a knife to their throats now lowering their blades and heading back the way they came. The Namgung family could do nothing but watch, too wary to make a single rash move.
“What is...”
Namgung Myeong muttered in a strangled voice.
Doubt began to creep into the eyes of the Namgung swordsmen, growing beyond mere suspicion.
Could it be...
Had Jang Il-so’s offer truly been mercy?
Had he not been driving them into a corner with some hidden intention, but genuinely trying to spare them?
Impossible. It could never be...
Then why had that man turned away with not the slightest reluctance? Why had he not forced the issue? Why, for that matter, had he not simply taken their lives with his own hand?
What in the world had they just done?
With no one able to make sense of the situation, Namgung Do-wi alone had one thought.
Maybe everything that had happened on this island had been Jang Il-so’s plan from the beginning.
The terrible thought that from the moment Jang Il-so first arrived here until this very instant, they might never once have escaped his palm.
“Alliance Leader. Those men...”
“Surround the island with ships so that not even an ant can get out.”
“Yes? Yes! Understood.”
Ho Gamyeong bit his lip slightly. Then, at last, he asked carefully, “May I ask what you intend to do next?”
Jang Il-so smiled faintly.
“What else? I’m going to show them what true despair looks like.”
“...Ah.”
Ho Gamyeong nodded as though he understood.
“Indeed, a comfortable death would be too much of a luxury for them.”
“Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ho Gamyeong, unlike you. Why are you so slow on the uptake today? That’s not it.”
“...Pardon?”
When Ho Gamyeong asked in puzzlement, Jang Il-so twisted the corners of his mouth into a smile.
“I never had Namgung in my eyes to begin with. My target was...”
Then he slowly shifted his gaze.
“Those monk bastards.”
There was something almost ghostly in Jang Il-so’s eyes as he looked toward Shaolin across the river.
“The stage is finally set. Now it begins. Come, let’s show them just how filthy the things hidden inside them really are!”
Watching him laugh with genuine delight, Ho Gamyeong felt a chill race down his entire body.
That was the moment Jang Il-so bared his fangs toward the world.