How Could a Human Be Like This? (3)
Standing on the deck, Ho Gamyeong greeted Jang Ilso with perfect courtesy.
"You have endured much, Alliance Leader."
"Hmm."
Jang Ilso gave a slow nod.
Unlike Ho Gamyeong, however, the Black Dragon King did not look pleased in the slightest.
"Jang Il... no, Alliance Leader," he said, his face stiff. "I simply can't understand what you're doing. Was there really any need to keep that Namgung alive for five full days?"
"... "
"I understand that you wanted to make it clear to them that Namgung was being destroyed. But there was no need to give them time—"
Jang Ilso slowly turned to look at him.
"There was a need."
"... "
"A necessary one, Black Dragon King."
His lips curled.
"If we were to slaughter every last one of Namgung Se-ga right now, what do you think Shaolin would say to the other orthodox factions arriving later?"
"... Well."
The Black Dragon King shut his mouth before he could say more.
Would Shaolin willingly admit that it had failed to jump into the river because Jang Ilso had arrived first?
No way.
If he had been in their place, he would never have said such a thing. He would have claimed they had rushed here with all possible speed, only to arrive too late and find Namgung already dead at the hands of those treacherous Sapa bastards.
Because on this Yangtze River, there was no one who could refute Shaolin's words. The only parties here were Namgung, Saparyeon, and Shaolin.
Even if ordinary people had been watching from the banks out of idle curiosity, who would believe them? The ones standing there were Shaolin, the North Star of the martial world.
"Namgung can be dealt with whenever we want. What's important is making the world know that Shaolin stopped here and only watched while Namgung was annihilated."
Jang Ilso smiled coldly.
"Our enemy isn't Namgung. It's Gupailbang."
"... "
The Black Dragon King felt a chill slide down his spine.
Surachae had also moved against Namgung Se-ga without hesitation, with deft and measured cruelty. But he had never once thought to use Namgung as bait to humiliate Shaolin, then twist the orthodox faction's own sense of righteousness against them.
Who could even think like that?
And yet the Black Dragon King found himself curious. What face would Shaolin make when the other factions arrived after them? It would surely be a face twisted with shame and guilt.
"Even if reinforcements arrive, all that means is their strength will increase. What do you expect them to do if they really try to cross the river to save Namgung?"
"Them?"
Jang Ilso snorted.
"If they were the sort of people who would do that, this war would have started already."
"... "
"Once a man stops moving forward, he rarely finds the will to take the next step again. If they were pressed for time, they might charge out under the urge of the moment. But..."
He turned and looked toward Shaolin, then asked softly, "Do you see it?"
"... "
"What do you think they're thinking right now? Do they look happy to have the chance to save Namgung?"
The Black Dragon King frowned.
"If it were me..."
Between Jang Ilso's blood-red lips, his white teeth flashed. The sight was as eerie as a beast baring its fangs.
"I'd probably be hoping that Namgung would just die off cleanly, without leaving a single mouth behind."
The Black Dragon King stared at Jang Ilso in a daze.
"Even if they gain support and save Namgung, Shaolin gets nothing in return. The credit will go to the ones who arrive later. No matter how hard Shaolin screams and fights, the only result will be Namgung returning to the northern riverbanks with a fierce grudge against them."
"... "
"So let me ask again."
Cold sweat trickled down the Black Dragon King's back.
"Do you really think Shaolin wants to save Namgung? Really?"
"... "
"I don't think they do."
Jang Ilso chuckled under his breath, sounding as though he were enjoying himself so much it was almost painful.
The Black Dragon King bit down hard on the inside of his lip, shivering.
This lunatic.
He wasn't sane.
Control?
There was no way anyone could control a man like this. He and the other vice-leaders of Saparyeon had clearly been mistaken about something from the very beginning.
This man would seize the world in one hand and shake it exactly as he pleased.
"Humans..."
Then, all at once, Jang Ilso's laughter stopped. He looked at the Black Dragon King with a detached expression, as though to say that he wasn't any different.
"Their words and actions rarely match."
"... "
"A man's words are nothing more than a convenient arrangement made in pursuit of his own interests. His true intentions are always hidden deep inside. And the amusing thing is..."
Speaking in that gentle tone, Jang Ilso cast his gaze back toward Shaolin.
"People rarely understand their own true intentions."
"... "
"Don't you wonder? What will that Beop Jeong do? And how will those monks, who have been taught their whole lives to uphold righteousness under his command, react?"
Jang Ilso slowly ran a finger over his lips.
"What's certain is this: once people see the ugliness of their own nature, they can never go back to the way they were. Namgung, Shaolin—it doesn't matter how many of them die. What's important is teaching them something. Teaching them that they aren't nearly as great as they think they are."
"... "
"Hmm."
His long eyes narrowed just a little.
"There's no alcohol."
The Black Dragon King quickly jerked his chin. Those who had been cowering under Jang Ilso's presence jumped and ran toward the cabin.
But since Jang Ilso made no move to follow them inside, the Black Dragon King asked, "Here?"
"Wouldn't that be nice?"
Jang Ilso laughed softly.
"Drinking while watching Shaolin caught between two impossible choices sounds quite splendid."
The Black Dragon King gave a heavy nod.
"I-I'll bring a table..."
A pirate who had brought the liquor stammered the words, his face drained white. Jang Ilso then slowly extended a hand.
"The liquor first."
"Huh? Ah... yes!"
The pirate hurriedly offered up the bottle with both hands. Jang Ilso took it and slowly walked to the ship's railing before perching on it.
"Good."
His gaze was fixed on Shaolin across the river. They looked frozen in place, unable to take even a single step, as if they had become stone statues. It was a sight worth savoring.
Men with conviction leap into a pit of fire. But once a man stops before the flames, he never again finds the will to throw himself inside.
What Jang Ilso wanted was to leave a deep brand on their hearts.
A single victory doesn't matter.
What mattered was winning in the end.
At that moment, Ho Gamyeong approached him carefully.
"Alliance Leader."
"Mm?"
"Naturally, those men won't be able to jump back into the river. But the sects that arrive afterward may be different, may they not?"
"Even so, they're no more than hogs. If Shaolin doesn't move, would they have the courage to fight us on their own?"
"... "
"Namgung, who should be leading the Five Great Families, looks like that. And Tang Ga has already pulled away. Shaolin doesn't even know what it's doing, and Wudang—the one meant to serve as the alternative—has closed its gates."
As Jang Ilso slowly recited the state of affairs, the corner of his mouth lifted.
"What's left are only loudmouthed fools."
Ho Gamyeong gave a slow nod.
"I understand."
Then, just when it seemed as though he was finished, Jang Ilso spoke again.
"Although..."
"Yes?"
Ho Gamyeong looked at him in confusion, but Jang Ilso did not answer right away. Instead, he wore a strange smile.
"There's one over there too."
"... What do you mean?"
"A lunatic no one can predict."
"... "
"Hahaha!"
Jang Ilso shook his head in delight and raised the bottle to drink straight from it.
Isn't that right?
He kept his eyes fixed to the north.
Namgung Do-wi collapsed to the ground as though his strength had been ripped from him.
They had all heard it. Every last word.
Jang Ilso had poured his inner energy into his voice and spread it across the entire river, as if to say that not a single soul should remain ignorant of the current situation.
Thanks to that, everyone on Maehwado had been forced to hear the conversation between Jang Ilso and Beop Jeong.
"Ha..."
A hollow laugh slipped from Namgung Do-wi's lips.
How cruel could the world be?
The Jianghu he had dreamed of, full of righteousness and romance, had been nothing more than an illusion. Reality was vicious beyond reason.
What made this even more painful was that he didn't even have the luxury of turning away from that cruelty.
"Ugh..."
"Cough."
Groans of pain rose from all around him. The Namgung swordsmen, bleeding and fallen, twitched on the ground. Those who had been holding on through sheer will despite their injuries finally collapsed as though all strength had left them.
Some of them were so badly wounded they might not survive the day if left like this.
What did we come here for?
When they had marched toward Maehwado to defend their righteousness and the pride of the orthodox sects, they had not hesitated for even a moment. But now that things had come to this, how could he stop the bitter, self-mocking laugh that wanted to rise in his throat?
Had it ever existed? That righteousness, that pride of the orthodox sects—had it ever really existed?
Then why had Shaolin stopped there, allowing itself to be toyed with by Jang Ilso?
"Ha... ha..."
He felt as if everything had been denied. Everything about him...
Thud.
But at that moment, someone placed a hand on Namgung Do-wi's shoulder.
"... "
He turned weakly, and saw Namgung Hwang gripping his shoulder.
His face was still ashen, as though the shock hadn't fully left him, but his mouth was set with a firmness more resolute than ever before.
"Get up."
"... Father."
"Tend to the wounded. From here on, this is a battle of endurance. We must save as many lives as we can."
"... "
"For the next five days..."
"And if we endure them?"
"... "
Overcome with emotion, Namgung Do-wi cut him off and bit his lip until it bled.
"After enduring those five days, what then? Do we just die satisfied because we held out well enough?"
"Do-wi..."
"Do you really think they'll help us, Clan Head? Really?"
Namgung Hwang closed his eyes.
His son had shown the name of Namgung right to the very last moment. More than Namgung Hwang had expected, even.
So his sense of betrayal must be the greatest of all—greater than anyone else's here.
"They..."
Just as Namgung Do-wi was about to speak again, Namgung Hwang tightened his grip on his shoulder.
"Are you going to leave the dying to their fate just because they won't help us?"
"... "
"There is no such thing as meaningless resistance. Sometimes, rather than accomplish something, you simply have to do what must be done."
Namgung Do-wi bit down hard on his lip.
His shoulders trembled violently. Namgung Hwang waited in silence until the shaking eased.
"I'm sorry. I..."
"Enough."
With effort, Namgung Do-wi pulled his heavy body up.
"I'll gather the wounded and hold out as long as I can. But..."
"I know."
There was only so long the wounded could endure here, where not a single grain of food remained. No one could know how many would still be alive by the time those five days had passed.
"We only need to live long enough to get out."
"... "
"Even if it's only one person."
Listening to Namgung Hwang's words, Namgung Do-wi slowly closed his eyes. He took a deep breath, and when he opened them again, the steel had returned to his gaze.
He turned at once and shouted, "Everyone who can move, follow me! Gather the wounded and treat them!"
"Yes!"
The answer came back with no energy at all. It laid bare the state Namgung was in.
But rather than force them to rally, Namgung Do-wi simply set himself to the work of tending the injured in silence. No matter how much he said, there were times when words simply would not reach anyone.
Watching Namgung Do-wi and Namgung Myeong moving busily about, Namgung Hwang slowly shifted his gaze.
The ships surrounding the island.
And beyond that island, Shaolin, which had stopped in its tracks.
How lonely.
It felt as though the world itself had abandoned them.
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