Chapter 298
Chapter 298
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 298
>Chapter Title: Cult of Evil (3)
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The family heads, who had been gauging the situation for a moment, ultimately agreed to the deal.
Selling Eastern goods in other cities was profitable in itself, and confiscating the Omar family's assets had left them with surplus capital.
The haggling between Il-mok and the family heads dragged on for quite some time.
Il-mok furrowed his brow and asked,
"Aren't you trying to take too big a bite? The Omar family bought them at much higher prices."
At his point, Ahmed family head wiped his forehead once and replied,
"Ahem. There's a misunderstanding. The Omar family bought them at prices far higher than what they trade for in the central or western regions. Probably because they thought they could get their money back."
Only then did Il-mok grasp the situation.
'What a ruthless bastard. He planned to fleece them anyway, so he jacked up the price to keep other families from bidding.'
In the end, they had to sell the goods at lower prices than what the Omar family had paid.
The buyers needed to turn a profit by reselling elsewhere.
Still, compared to the purchase price in the Central Plains, it was at least five times higher, so there was no real regret.
'Factoring in the money made from the Omar family, it's dozens of times over.'
Thinking it had been a worthwhile expedition, Il-mok left the meeting hall.
* * *
Even after the deals were done, Il-mok stayed in Merv for another five days.
To treat the severely wounded.
Once the severely wounded could move about somewhat, they loaded them into wagons and departed Merv.
By then, their numbers had swelled by nearly twenty more.
During the five days in Merv, they had bought nomads, whites, and blacks from another slave trader who arrived.
The procession of ninety people marching along was quite a bizarre sight.
Some slaves rode in carts or wagons, while others followed on foot.
Some of the Black Tiger Squad members who weren't severely wounded walked alongside the slaves, chatting with them or teaching them letters.
One man, puzzled by the strange scene, asked the middle-aged man beside him.
He was a white slave captured here, acting oddly like the leader among them.
"They've untied everyone's legs, so why isn't anyone running away?"
It wasn't that he had special leadership qualities; he could speak various similar yet different European languages fluently, which made him the de facto leader. He was James, an Englishman and former deckhand.
James had sailed across Europe for over twenty years, picking up multiple languages.
Not all sailors were like that; he just had a talent for languages.
Thanks to it, even on ships, he'd been praised by fellow sailors for his 'unique talent.'
At the question from the newly captured French slave, James shook his head and replied in slightly awkward French.
"Running away? That's a mad idea, even for a lunatic."
"Hm? Because it's all desert around here, so running wouldn't do any good?"
"That's not the issue. The problem is, running away is impossible in the first place."
"???"
As the Frenchman wore a puzzled expression, James glanced fearfully at someone.
A young man leisurely driving a camel.
"That's the Demon King right there."
"…Demon King?"
"Shh! What if someone hears you!"
James's startled reaction drew a hollow laugh from the young Frenchman.
'Must've gone mad after too long as a slave.'
But the young Frenchman didn't know.
"Monster, a monster."
"Don't be fooled by those blank eyes. It's a devil."
Here and there, the existing slaves were whispering similar words in various languages to the newcomers.
And Il-mok, who had entered the Profound Realm, wasn't missing a single one of their whispers.
'…Why have those guys been whispering about me since earlier?'
It was just that they were all in foreign tongues he couldn't understand.
* * *
Another five days passed, and they arrived at Samarkand.
As promised, Il-mok settled accounts with Muhammad, the head of the Majid family.
He handed over exactly thirty percent of the sales from the five Merv families.
However, in Il-mok's reckoning, the money from looting the Omar family didn't count toward the settlement.
Likewise, the payment from selling to the Omar family was excluded. It had all been voided.
After settling accounts, Il-mok returned to his group for a night's rest. Muhammad Majid asked his subordinates who had traveled with the Eastern merchants.
"You returned later than expected. Did the sales take a long time?"
At his question, the subordinates explained everything they had witnessed.
"To bring down not just the Raman family, but the Omar family too…."
Muhammad let out a sigh of relief.
If, on the day the Raman family fell, he had given in to greed and attacked them—what then?
'…Our family would have vanished into the dustbin of history too.'
Imagining that horrific scene in his mind, Muhammad Majid bowed toward the Holy Land.
"Allahu Akbar."
Grateful that God was watching over them.
* * *
After a night's rest in Samarkand, they bought necessary supplies and departed.
After several days of travel, they stopped at the Huihui Cult village they had visited before, then traveled a few more days to reunite with Ohallak's tribespeople.
Curiously, the meeting spot wasn't near the previous river.
Nomads constantly moved to find feed for their livestock.
"They're probably around here by now."
Guided by Ohallak, Il-mok and his group traveled and reunited with the nomads in a completely different place.
"You've had a hard time. Here's a parting gift."
Il-mok handed him a box of silver along with his farewell.
"Thank you."
Perhaps from their constant conversations during the journey, Ohallak's Central Plains speech was more polished.
Looking at Ohallak, Il-mok brought up something he'd been considering.
"Soon, our caravan plans to set up an outpost near that river we met at before. The Huihui Cultists make it hard for your tribe to survive—why not join us going forward?"
After some thought, Ohallak replied.
"I'll speak to the chieftain."
Ohallak approached the tribespeople and spoke with the chieftain.
The talk didn't go smoothly; it dragged on, with raised voices now and then.
After a long discussion, Ohallak returned to Il-mok.
He looked relieved yet regretful.
"The chieftain accepted."
"…Doesn't seem like he accepted gladly."
Stammering, Ohallak briefly recounted his conversation with the chieftain.
"The chieftain values tradition."
To persuade him, Ohallak had shared what he'd seen and heard traveling with Il-mok's group.
"The Huihui Cultists are terrifying. If we stay alone, we don't know when they'll kill us."
On the journey together, Ohallak had clearly felt two things: the Huihui Cultists' brutality and this group's strength.
"Please take care of us from now on."
At Ohallak's final words, Il-mok burst into hearty laughter.
"Hahaha. We're the ones who should ask that."
"We'll wait here until your next journey."
Il-mok shook his head at Ohallak's reply.
"What are you talking about? You're coming with us right now."
They needed an interpreter for the next plans crisscrossing the Western Regions.
"R-right now?"
Ohallak, who had been smiling warmly, stammered in surprise.
The terrifying events in the Western Regions flashed through his mind once more.
* * *
After a night on the steppe, they bid farewell to the nomads and headed east.
They crossed the long desert stretching beyond the steppe for several days.
Passing the abandoned tomb they'd seen when leaving for the Western Regions, they finally reached Kucha, the edge of the Tarim.
After resting in Kucha and traversing the desert within the Tarim for a few more days.
At last, they arrived at the entrance to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's main headquarters.
"Black Tiger Squad Leader, send the severely wounded to the infirmary first."
"Yes, Young Master. What about these?"
The ones the Black Tiger Squad Leader pointed to were the slaves bought in Merv.
The ones promised freedom after five years of service to the Cult.
"I'll report to Master first, so can the Black Tiger Squad manage them until then?"
"We'll make sure they cause no trouble."
Nodding at Gu Yang-hyeok's reliable answer, Il-mok headed straight for the Heavenly Demon Hall without delay.
His maidservants Jin Ha-yeon, Joo Seo-yeon, and Jeong-hyeon accompanied him, but they stopped at the entrance.
"Then I'll be off."
"I'll wait here. You two go to Wind Rock Hall first and clean up so Young Master can rest."
At Jin Ha-yeon's order, Jeong-hyeon and Joo Seo-yeon headed to Wind Rock Hall, and Il-mok entered the Heavenly Demon Hall.
Unlike when he returned from the Central Plains, only the Heavenly Demon and the Silver Wing Pavilion Master were present.
Unable to send a letter announcing their return to the Cult from the Western Regions, it was rather sudden.
"Your eighth disciple Il-mok pays respects to Master."
Seeing his disciple return after over a month, the Heavenly Demon welcomed him with an uncharacteristically surprised expression.
"Come in, my youngest. In just four months, you've changed beyond recognition."
He didn't mean his appearance.
The Heavenly Demon instantly noticed Il-mok had entered the Profound Realm.
"Hohoho. Looks like you had some special experience in the Western Regions."
"This is all thanks to Master's teachings."
Il-mok bowed again, crediting everything to the Heavenly Demon.
It was partly true.
During his bloody battle with Zafir, the koan the Heavenly Demon had posed came to mind, leading to his enlightenment.
Well, that koan had also summoned a heart demon, nearly sending him straight to the afterlife.
"Hohoho. I was worried your growth was too fast, but it seems even this master underestimated your talent."
As the Heavenly Demon, Hyeok-ryeon Il-hwi, laughed in pure delight at the absurd growth surpassing his own position.
Il-mok, in turn, gazed at the Heavenly Demon in admiration.
'Is this what they mean by heavens beyond heavens.'
Though Il-mok had shed his mortal body and merged with the world, he still couldn't fathom his master's level.
'Does perfecting the Heavenly Demon Divine Art allow anyone to reach Master's realm?'
As Il-mok pondered this, the Heavenly Demon asked,
"So, I'm quite curious what our youngest went through in the Western Regions to grow like this. Can you tell this old man your story first?"
At the Heavenly Demon's question, Il-mok organized his thoughts and calmly began.
Leaving Kucha for the Western Regions and encountering nomads.
Enjoying their hospitality with food and beds, only to be attacked by another nomad tribe that had converted to the Huihui Cult.
Hiring a member of the nomad tribe as an interpreter.
On the way further west, attacked again by bandits claiming to be Huihui Cultists, and the Raman family's trap disguised as kindness.
"Hmm…. What kind of doctrine does the Huihui Cult have to make them so brutal?"
"This disciple wonders too. Does it really say to act that way in their scriptures, or do they twist them because they're evil?"
"If we can get a copy translated into Central Plains tongue later, I'd like to read it sometime."
Il-mok nodded at the Heavenly Demon's words and said,
"Still, not all were beyond reason."
Il-mok recounted the Majid family who came after the Raman family's fall.
In the process, the story of the Black Bean Carriage naturally came up.
"So you're saying someone in our Cult colluded with Central Plains forces to kill you?"
A horrific, heavy demonic qi poured from the Heavenly Demon's body, filling the Heavenly Demon Hall.