There's No Choice But to Believe It (4)
Grrrk.
The sound of the hull scraping against the sandbar rang out clearly. A moment later, a man in red stepped slowly down from the stopped ship.
“...Jang Il-so.”
Baek Cheon’s face twisted hideously.
Just seeing that man’s face made it feel as though his blood were surging backward in his veins. He wanted to rush at him right this instant and drive a sword through that throat. The other disciples standing beside him were no different; their shoulders were already trembling with rage.
Then Baek Cheon’s eyes caught sight of Cheong Myeong. The moment he saw that still back, not moving at all, Baek Cheon let out the breath he’d been holding.
At a short distance from one another, Jang Il-so with his smiling face and Cheong Myeong with his expressionless one stared each other down.
The instant the two men—so violently opposed in both dress and expression—came face to face, everyone on the island held their breath.
With a flick of Jang Il-so’s finger, the ring lying on the ground flew into his hand as if drawn by a force. He slowly slid it back onto his long finger, then glanced at the Black Dragon King.
“...You’ve been reduced to a rag.”
His gaze fell on the severed stump at the Black Dragon King’s shoulder. As if he’d seen something unsightly, Jang Il-so frowned. Then, just as quickly, he smiled softly and looked back at Cheong Myeong.
“What do you think, Mount Hua Divine Dragon? Must you really take that head?”
At Jang Il-so’s insinuating tone, Cheong Myeong let out a blatant snort of contempt.
“Why should I?”
Cheong Myeong’s foot pressed down on the Black Dragon King.
“Ughhh...”
A stifled groan escaped from the Black Dragon King’s mouth as he failed even to resist.
“This?”
Jang Il-so shrugged one shoulder with a hint of exaggerated innocence.
“You’re one of those righteous sect fellows, born in a place where talent falls like clouds from the sky, so perhaps you don’t understand how I feel. In the unorthodox path, it’s not easy finding even one man like this.”
“...”
“Whether he’s a maggot or a cripple, if he can still be used, then I’ll use him however I can. Isn’t that pitiful?”
“You’ve still got a great mouth on you.”
“I’m pleased you’ll admit it. That’s one of my specialties.”
Jang Il-so chuckled.
“So... why not hold back on killing him?”
“...”
“A Black Dragon King who’s lost an arm and become a cripple isn’t exactly threatening from your point of view, is he? So you could just leave him here and go on your way, and I’d be happy to pick him up and put him to good use.”
“Why would I do that?”
Cheong Myeong’s icy stare looked ready to spear straight through Jang Il-so. After glaring for a moment, he gave a thin laugh.
“No, no. I suppose I could do that.”
He bared his teeth like a wolf under attack and shot Jang Il-so a look filled with every ounce of malice he could muster.
“If you’re willing to offer up that insignificant head of yours as the price.”
“Hahaha!”
Jang Il-so slowly stroked his pale throat.
“My, my. I had no idea this neck was worth so much. Enough to tempt even the famed Mount Hua Divine Dragon.”
Madness flickered vividly in his pale eyes. Anyone with a weak heart would have been frightened just to receive that gaze.
“But that’s difficult. Even if it’s a worthless neck, it’s still a little too precious to trade for the life of some bug.”
The Black Dragon King, pinned beneath Cheong Myeong’s foot, trembled all over. Even if he was only still breathing by Jang Il-so’s mercy, such treatment was too cruel for a man who had once stood among the absolute powers of the Yangtze River.
But he couldn’t even open his mouth.
The instant he showed anger, Cheong Myeong’s sword would cut his throat without hesitation. Having faced Cheong Myeong himself, the Black Dragon King knew this much: this was not a man who hesitated before murder.
“Then talk.”
Cheong Myeong tossed out the words in an emotionless voice.
“Use that great mouth of yours and talk. Tell me why I should spare this bastard. And why I should...”
His transparent gaze cut through Jang Il-so.
“...spare you.”
Jang Il-so’s red lips curved into a chilling arc.
This is unsettling.
It wasn’t a joke. Meeting those eyes really did send a cold chill straight down his spine.
I thought he’d come back as some kind of beast.
This wasn’t a beast. This was a monster.
As the white hand hanging from beneath Jang Il-so’s sleeve slowly tightened, his rings rubbed against one another with a sharp, metallic clatter.
Jang Il-so glanced down at his hand. For a moment, his eyes darkened.
When he adorned his entire body with jewelry, he could tell the state of his own mind most accurately. The fact that his hand had clenched without his conscious will meant that he was now feeling intense killing intent toward Cheong Myeong.
Do I want to kill him?
Here and now?
Was that small enough a reason to abandon everything he had planned until now and eliminate him? Was that Mount Hua Divine Dragon really that dangerous?
His mind still hadn’t finished weighing the matter, but his instincts already had.
He had to kill that Mount Hua Divine Dragon here and now, by any means necessary.
Instinct governed the will to live. Right now, his instincts were treating that small swordsman as the clearest threat he had ever encountered.
Jang Il-so gave a soft snort and raised a hand to cover his face.
He didn’t want anyone to see the killing intent that might be showing there. Though his face was hidden, a cold light leaked from the eyes visible between his long fingers.
I want to cut him down.
I want to sever that head and soak my hands in his blood.
But...
“A price, huh...”
Of course, Jang Il-so rejected the voice of his own heart.
Letting impulse rule him, failing to distinguish front from back and moving only according to instinct—that was the kind of thing those piglike swine he despised most would do.
“What do you want, Mount Hua Divine Dragon?”
“...”
“Say it. Tell me what you want. I’ll hear out anything I can give you. Even if it’s...”
His smooth voice, laced with poison, wound itself into Cheong Myeong’s ear.
“...the absurd mercy of letting you all walk out of this island alive without even having to lower your heads to beg.”
“You...”
The instant those words ended, every Mount Hua disciple blazed with blue killing intent. Their eyes bloodshot, they seized their swords and stepped forward as though they might throw themselves at Jang Il-so at any moment.
“Don’t be rash.”
It was Un Geom who suppressed the atmosphere that had been ready to explode. The moment his words fell, the fury that had been sweeping through the Mount Hua disciples vanished as if it had never existed.
There was nothing else it could have been.
Un Geom’s words were always heavy, but before that Myriad Man Sect and Jang Il-so, they carried even more weight. No one could grow more enraged than they already were in front of Un Geom.
The Mount Hua swordsmen, having regained a measure of composure, pressed their lips together. Yet their swords still glowed with a deep blue light, all of them still aimed squarely at Jang Il-so.
Then Cheong Myeong spoke again.
“Jang Il-so.”
“Hmm?”
Cheong Myeong’s eyes were unnaturally emotionless.
“Don’t get the wrong idea.”
Jang Il-so looked at him with a dark smile.
“The wrong idea? Me?”
“You know nothing.”
For an instant, Jang Il-so’s expression changed slightly. Cheong Myeong’s words had sounded less like empty bluster and more like something loaded with meaning.
Cheong Myeong continued.
“Why do you think you’re still standing here alive even after setting foot on this island?”
Jang Il-so remained silent, looking down at Cheong Myeong.
“Did you think I couldn’t kill you? Did you think I’d take your proposal because I need to save even one more life?”
Cheong Myeong bared his teeth in a grin.
“You stupid unorthodox bastard. You really think the world’s just going to go the way you want it to.”
At that crude insult, Jang Il-so smiled brightly and lightly stroked his chin.
“Then what is the reason?”
“...”
“May I ask what noble purpose it is that has the Mount Hua Divine Dragon, defender of the righteous order of the Central Plains, keeping alive the neck of this wicked, unforgivable unorthodox leader?”
Even with all his taunting provocation, Cheong Myeong didn’t react at all. He answered only with cold indifference.
“It’s tiresome to explain things to a fool, but that too must be the duty of a Daoist. Wash your ears and listen carefully, idiot. There’s only one reason I’m not killing you.”
“...”
“It’s not my authority.”
Jang Il-so’s eyes narrowed.
It was a very small change in expression, but those who had watched Jang Il-so long enough could tell. For the first time, uncertainty had surfaced on that face that had always been so certain of everything he did.
“...What are you talking about?”
“Even a three-year-old would know this,”
Cheong Myeong snapped coldly.
“But I guess I have to explain it in a way even an idiot like you can understand. I’m only the sword of Mount Hua. The one who decides who that sword points at is only one person in this world.”
“...”
At that moment, Jang Il-so’s gaze moved. Past Cheong Myeong, toward someone standing behind him.
“If you want to keep that pathetic life of yours and crawl back out of here, lower your head and beg the Sect Leader. If it’s not that man, no one here can save you.”
Grk.
Amhyang Maehwageom, resting near the Black Dragon King’s throat, scraped against the sand. It was like a warning that if the Sect Leader gave the command, it would cut down Jang Il-so’s neck right this instant.
For the first time, a flicker of confusion crossed Jang Il-so’s face, which had always been smooth as though painted on.
He moves according to the Sect Leader’s orders?
What kind of nonsense was this?
Of course, he was part of the unorthodox path and they were righteous sects. He knew that, unlike the unorthodox path where strength represented everything, the righteous sects had their own rules to uphold. Hadn’t Jang Il-so exploited that fact for immense profit time and again?
But that was a story for ordinary people.
Someone like the Mount Hua Divine Dragon could never be controlled by that supposedly ordinary, not to mention dull, Sect Leader. Hyun Jong was not, by any objective measure, a remarkable man.
And yet that Mount Hua Divine Dragon—arrogant enough to look down on even the leaders of the Nine Great Sects and the Five Great Clans, and vicious enough to bare his killing intent openly even before him, the leader of the Evil Tyrant Alliance—followed Hyun Jong’s command?
Jang Il-so was so bewildered he almost laughed. But that absurd claim was soon proven to be true.
Despite Cheong Myeong’s ridiculous words, not one of the Mount Hua disciples wavered in their eyes. Not even a hint of doubt passed over them.
That meant they all took Cheong Myeong’s words for granted. It wasn’t a mere improvisation; it meant that Mount Hua Divine Dragon had always lived by that rule.
The moment he realized that, cold sweat soaked Jang Il-so’s back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this flustered or tense.
So I’ve walked straight into a tiger’s den with my own feet.
He had assumed the one negotiating would naturally be Mount Hua Divine Dragon. That was why he could enter alone. Surely the hyper-capable Mount Hua Divine Dragon wouldn’t ignore the fact that Jang Il-so’s death here would be a loss to Mount Hua.
But... what if the true target of this negotiation was Hyun Jong?
Jang Il-so’s lips twisted in a faint, involuntary smile.
Maybe this will be my grave after all.
He slowly straightened his back. Then he walked forward, boldly, toward Hyun Jong, who was watching him.
Flap.
The hem of his robe whipped sharply in the wind. Jang Il-so, having neatly composed his attire, gave Hyun Jong a deep salute with clasped hands. His courtesy was flawless.
“Jang Il-so of the Evil Tyrant Alliance.”
With eyes like a waning moon, Jang Il-so looked at Hyun Jong.
Though they had already met before, he paid his respects as though meeting him for the first time.
“I greet the leader of the Heavenly Friends Alliance and the Sect Leader of Mount Hua.”
Hyun Jong let out a low sigh and returned the courtesy.
“I am Hyun Jong, leader of the Heavenly Friends Alliance and Sect Leader of Mount Hua. We meet again, Tyrant Lord.”
He was, as always, impeccably proper.
Yet the cold edge of the blade hidden within that civility swept across the hearts of everyone watching the scene unfold.