Chapter 178
Chapter 178
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 178
>Chapter Title: Path Forward (3)
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About a year ago.
Yueyang in the Central Plains.
In the midst of its stunning scenery embraced by Lake Dongting, a place that had drawn praise from countless poets since ancient times, stood a massive estate at its heart.
[Martial Alliance]
In one corner of that estate, beneath a plaque inscribed with the bold script reading "Dragons and Serpents Soaring," a man clad entirely in black entered a hall named [Flying Dragon Pavilion].
The man moved swiftly to the deepest chamber of the Flying Dragon Pavilion and, upon opening the door, immediately clasped his hands in salute.
"I come to see the Pavilion Master."
The man addressed as Pavilion Master nodded with a stern, icy expression before asking,
"Has any special information come in about those fanatics?"
The Martial Alliance, formed by the united strength of various sects across the Central Plains.
Numerous forces harbored enmity toward them, cloaked in the noble cause of safeguarding the Central Plains' peace.
Yet with so many powerful factions from every corner of the Central Plains pooling their might, few threats could truly endanger them.
The Flying Dragon Pavilion's primary duty was to monitor those dangerous elements and preempt the emergence of new enemies.
And the man who had just come to see the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master was a highly capable subordinate overseeing surveillance of the most perilous among those few threats.
In truth, though the Pavilion Master's face remained as coldly composed as ever, his mind was far from at ease.
'What in the world are those fanatic bastards plotting?'
It all began with information brought by this capable subordinate—more precisely, news from about a year prior.
Word had come that the Demonic Cult's branches in various villages of Xinjiang had suddenly begun teaching children the Thousand Character Classic.
The Martial Alliance had erupted in chaos.
- Those madmen must be planning to teach demonic arts even to Xinjiang's children!
- We must strike first right away! They've extended their claws to kids—how can we ignore this horror!
- Exactly! We need to wipe out those evil scum immediately!
A meeting convened by the heads of the Alliance's key organizations and elders from renowned sects and clans across the Central Plains.
The majority of the elders judged that the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was reaching out to children to cultivate more martial artists.
A precise assessment.
However.
- So, which sect will take the vanguard in this demon extermination?
At the Alliance Leader's question, the raucous crowd fell silent in unison.
Those fanatics were all mad dogs who didn't know the value of their own lives.
Clashing with them naturally meant casualties, and among them, the weight of the one they revered as a god—the Heavenly Demon—was on another level entirely.
The mere name of a single Heavenly Demon outweighed an entire major sect.
Of course, they were confident that if the entire Central Plains united, they could sweep the bastards away without issue.
The problem was singular.
The vanguard sects would suffer near-total annihilation.
And even if they crushed the Demonic Cult at such great cost, nothing would remain for them.
The Heavenly Myriad Mountains, where the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult held sway, lay far from the Central Plains.
One had to pass Qinghai, the westernmost edge of the Central Plains, cross into Xinjiang, then traverse its vast wastelands westward for a long stretch to reach it.
Unlike the bountiful Central Plains, teeming with common folk ripe for "protection fees," conquering that land offered them nothing worthwhile.
- Ahem. Our Huangbo Clan is in the east, you see? We'll join as soon as possible once others have opened the path.
- Heh heh heh. By distance, it seems Yunnan Province's Jiancheng, and Sichuan's Emei, Qingcheng, and Tang Family should step up first.
- You call that something to say?
Naturally, the elders began shoving responsibility onto one another. The Martial Alliance's justice wasn't sustained by honor alone.
For them, justice was reality, not some ideal.
Raising disciples like their own flesh and blood required money, and expanding their sect's lands and halls to flaunt their grandeur was the only way to face their deceased ancestors with pride.
Of course, they did uphold justice.
In the regions around their sects.
The common folk toiling there were their precious lifeline—no, as pitiful souls, protecting them ensured their sects' enduring glory.
Ah, they occasionally meddled in other regions' misfortunes too.
When another power weakened. It gave them the pretext to "rescue" the locals and expand their territory.
This was one of the main reasons the Martial Alliance had never launched a preemptive strike against the Demonic Cult.
The Martial Alliance was a colossal force born of countless Central Plains sects uniting, but conversely, it was not a single unified entity.
With no absolute leader, the sects and clans within acted according to their own gains and losses.
The Alliance mostly served as a mediator when conflicts arose among its member sects and clans.
They only truly banded together in one case: when a massive common enemy like a Demonic Cult invasion emerged.
They united to repel invaders stealing their own possessions, but saw no need to attack fanatics holed up in the useless Xinjiang wastelands far away.
True to their age and experience, the elders ultimately repeated their usual routine.
They hurled veiled barbs wrapped in flowery honorifics at one another, time dragged on without progress, and.
- Enough, everyone. The Demonic Cult hasn't shown any overt moves yet, so how about we settle on intensifying surveillance for now?
The weary Alliance Leader stepped in to mediate, as always. Reaching the same old "let's watch and wait" conclusion.
In line with that decision, the Flying Dragon Pavilion was kept busy for a time.
They had to dispatch new spies to Xinjiang and Qinghai, after all.
And thanks to the reports streaming in over the past year, the Martial Alliance held meetings once a month.
They'd suspected demonic arts training for kids, only to hear it was actually the Thousand Character Classic, doctrines, and some bizarre games—no demonic arts—and debates raged.
- Those lunatics must be preparing some strange sorcery! We need to march in now!
- They're just madmen doing mad things.
When word came that the fanatics had suddenly begun building new estates in some villages, planning to gather nearby kids for education there, arguments erupted.
- Those madmen are surely locking kids away to teach them demonic arts!
- See? What did I say! We must strike now!
- If you're so eager, have your sect charge in first!
Even when reports revealed they sent the children back to their villages periodically before picking them up again—and that the Demonic Cult's ruthless enforcers were pulling the carriages themselves like beasts of burden—they still devolved into dogfights.
- They're definitely madmen.
- Seems like the whole lot fell into demonic deviation—best to just observe for now?
- Is that head on your shoulders just decoration? You think we should fall for those vicious bastards' tricks so easily?
The Flying Dragon Pavilion Master, attending every such meeting, even thought:
'Those vicious Demonic Cult bastards are scheming to sow discord within our Martial Alliance!'
Of course, true to the man who had risen to Pavilion Master through cool-headed competence, he didn't let his flare of anger lead him into believing such folly.
That was why the information his subordinate brought now was crucial.
To uncover why those Xinjiang wasteland lunatics were suddenly up to such odd antics. And above all, to prevent fractures in the Martial Alliance.
Masking his desperate hopes, the Pavilion Master eyed his subordinate.
"Compiling the spies' reports, the Demonic Cult fanatics are currently teaching children."
At the subordinate's response, the Pavilion Master's face twisted.
"You think we're in this uproar because we don't know that?"
The subordinate swallowed dryly at his always-composed superior's chilling tone. The words were unchanged, but experience told him this was a crisis.
"No sorcery or hidden agenda. They're simply educating the children to raise them as future Demonic Cult fanatics."
"Then why aren't they teaching demonic arts and instead doing this upright faction nonsense? Those demonic arts-obsessed fanatics."
"Th-that... it's because of the Eighth Young Master."
"...Eighth Young Master?"
It wasn't just the unfamiliar title. He knew the Demonic Cult's "Young Master" meant a disciple of the Heavenly Demon.
Simply.
"Wasn't it the Seventh Young Master? And didn't that Seventh die?"
"It's a new disciple the Heavenly Demon has taken. All these Demonic Cult moves stem from that Eighth Young Master's proposals."
"Why in the world?"
"W-well, as I mentioned earlier, to educate the children and raise them as Demonic Cult fanatics."
"So why the hell aren't they teaching their damned demonic arts and starting with this weird crap instead!!"
The conversation looping back to square one finally snapped the Pavilion Master's restraint.
Naturally, the subordinate there to report was dying inside.
'We can't even contact the Eighth Young Master—how the hell are we supposed to figure out his intentions!!'
A silent inner scream he couldn't voice.
This was the Martial Alliance, not the Demonic Cult. Yelling at the boss wouldn't get his head lopped off.
At worst, he'd be peacefully expelled from the Alliance.
Outwardly, at least.
Sure, while wandering the streets, climbing mountains, or resting at home after expulsion, he risked some black-clad figure suddenly severing his limbs' meridians, crippling his dantian, or "accidentally" piercing his neck or heart in a minor mishap.
"This one is incompetent and has yet to grasp the Eighth Young Master's intentions."
Swallowing his injustice, the subordinate dropped to his knees and begged forgiveness.
The plight of middle management.
The Pavilion Master coldly glared at his kneeling subordinate, let out a deep sigh, and spoke.
"I'll give you one last chance. Investigate everything you can on that Eighth Young Master and report back."
* * *
"This disciple wishes to go to the Central Plains to witness a greater world."
"A greater world, you say..."
At the Heavenly Demon's somewhat lukewarm response, Il-mok's tongue danced.
"Thanks to the various reforms Master is implementing, Xinjiang now stands at the cusp of great transformation. Yet strengthening internal affairs must not come at the cost of lax vigilance toward the outside—lest it invite peril."
"So, you'll be the vanguard, scouting the Central Plains' currents?"
"Precisely."
The Heavenly Demon stroked his beard, sinking into thought.
With the response cooler than expected, Il-mok realized it was time for his second plan.
Thud.
"!?"
Il-mok suddenly prostrated fully again in salute, leaving the Heavenly Demon visibly flustered.
Regardless, Il-mok bellowed loudly.
"Please punish this disciple's sins!"
"!?"
"This disciple dared to dream of the Central Plains for personal reasons!"
As the old saying goes, better to strike first.
Il-mok's second strategy was self-flagellation following voluntary confession.
Thud! Thud!
Il-mok boldly slammed his forehead against the floor, shouting,
"Monitoring the Central Plains' movements is true, but it wasn't solely for the Divine Cult's safety."
And before Il-mok's forehead could meet the floor a third time.
A majestic aura seized his body.
"If personal reasons, you don't mean the Flying Dragon Pavilion Master, do you?"
At his master's question, Il-mok's lips naturally curled upward.
But by the time he raised his head, his face had reverted to one of profound grief.
"Indeed. As a man, and as a warrior of the Divine Cult, how could I forget the enemy who was like a parent to me?"
Avenging one who was like a parent.
What better justification could there be?
Of course, Il-mok had no intention of using it merely as a pretext.
That bastard was truly Tae-hyeon Elder's enemy, after all—he planned to behead him personally someday.
Just.
'Well, going to the Central Plains doesn't mean I have to meet him right away.'
He simply viewed revenge as a distant future matter.