Chapter 302
Chapter 302
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 302
>Chapter Title: Grasslands (2)
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Il-mok's scheme for world conquest proceeded steadily.
Seo Jae-pil, accompanied by O-hal-lak and a few Demonic Cult members, moved among the nomads.
"Cough."
During this, he spotted a young nomad child coughing in a woman's arms and approached her with a smiling face.
"We are physicians, but if it's all right with you, may we take a look at the child's pulse?"
After O-hal-lak translated Seo Jae-pil's words, the woman pondered briefly and nodded.
Seo Jae-pil carefully examined the child's condition with utmost sincerity. Once the examination was complete, he spoke to the woman.
"It seems to be a common cold, so there's no need for great worry. We have some medicinal herbs with us, so we'll prepare a decoction for you."
At O-hal-lak's translation, the nomadic woman let out a sigh of relief and smiled brightly.
"She says thank you."
Hearing the translation, Seo Jae-pil smiled lightly and replied.
"Hahaha. In our Mi. Reuk. Myeong. Cult, we never turn away from sick children."
Emphasizing the name Mireuk Myeong Cult particularly, Seo Jae-pil instructed those with him to prepare the herbal decoction.
They were also physicians who had come along to assist him.
And while they were brewing the decoction.
"That's not all. By following Maitreya's teachings, one can learn many wonderful things. You'll even become immune to trivial colds like this."
Seo Jae-pil began his missionary work.
It was something he was fairly familiar with. He had done it often while tending to patients in Byeongnyang County or Nanzhou.
As he zealously proselytized like a traveling medicine peddler, Seo Jae-pil thought to himself.
'As expected, it was the right choice to follow Young Master Il-mok!'
It wasn't just because he could lead the missionary efforts as a Divine Cult physician.
His eyes gleamed with the madness of a deranged scholar as he observed the nomads.
'When it's a different race, even the same illness might show different symptoms. This is excellent research material!'
It was simply the joy of finding new research subjects thanks to Il-mok.
* * *
The next morning.
Il-mok and his group left the nomadic settlement, heading toward the next grasslands and river as informed by the tribal chief.
The missionary work led by Jeong-hyeon and Seo Jae-pil had barely lasted a day, so it was hard to expect major results, but Il-mok didn't mind.
They were the advance party, after all.
The goods to be transported from the main headquarters to the Western Regions weren't even prepared yet.
Until the trade goods gathered in Nanzhou, they had come here first for preliminary scouting.
As a bonus, it was to make the nomads familiar with the name 'Maitreya Divine Cult' and gain their goodwill.
'If I compare it to the games from my previous life, it's like building favorability.'
Recalling his time as Seo Ji-hoon, Il-mok nodded deeply.
The full-scale missionary work was planned after completing the preliminary scouting.
They traversed the barren desert along the grasslands for a long while once more.
Grasslands appeared in the distance again, but since it was too late, they camped for the night and resumed travel the next day.
Setting out early in the morning, they finally reached the pasture around noon, where they spotted a settlement formed along a small stream resembling a brook.
This tribe exuded a subtly different atmosphere from the one they had seen two days prior.
In one corner, they could see people butchering sheep and lighting fires, and the place buzzed with a hectic energy.
Il-mok, wondering, asked O-hal-lak.
"It looks like a funeral."
He recalled the time during their journey to the Western Regions when he had mistaken a funeral for a festival.
"It seems so."
Answering Il-mok's guess, O-hal-lak took the lead to approach the settlement for talks with the nomads.
"Eek."
But when they drew their bows and weapons, radiating a stern aura, O-hal-lak recoiled in surprise.
"...Is there some problem?"
"They say not to come near until the funeral is over."
"Hmm. It must be this tribe's custom."
Il-mok tilted his head once, then nodded with an expression of acceptance.
Funerals had different customs in every region and country, after all.
"It seems to be their custom, so we should respect it. For now, it would be best to retreat a bit and rest."
At Il-mok's instruction, they moved a little farther from the nomadic settlement and set up camp.
Then, for quite some time, they rested, circulated their qi and adjusted their breathing, or lightly practiced martial arts to pass the time.
A few from the nomadic settlement approached them.
The northern pastures had late sunsets, so it was still bright, but it was about time for dinner.
One of those approaching Il-mok and his group stepped forward and spoke.
"Thank you for waiting. Could you tell us the reason for coming here?"
After O-hal-lak translated the man's words, Il-mok replied.
"We are merchants heading to the Western Regions via the northern Heavenly Myriad Mountains. We'd like to stay here one night, buy some water and food from you, and ask about the route west. We'll pay, of course."
"It's not for me to decide arbitrarily. I'll ask the tribal chief and return."
The man returned to the settlement with his companions and came back shortly after.
"The tribal chief says since we're preparing dinner anyway, please join us."
"Thank you for the invitation."
Accepting the man's invitation, Il-mok moved toward the settlement with his group, thinking.
'As expected, it was because of their customs. Their attitude is much different from earlier.'
Il-mok's question was soon resolved through conversation with the tribal chief.
After entering the settlement and exchanging light greetings, the chief bowed his head once and spoke.
"Heh heh heh. I apologize for treating our guests coldly. We had no choice but to be on edge due to the recent rumors, so please understand."
"If it's rumors, could you tell us what kind?"
"There are rumors that people from the Central Plains are stealing warriors' corpses."
"!?"
Il-mok made a baffled expression, wondering what nonsense this was.
Whiiiing.
But when the Soaring Heaven Sword at his waist began to vibrate, a certain suspicion arose.
'...If it's corpses, it's highly likely related to the Blood Cult.'
It seemed necessary to investigate further, so Il-mok asked the elder again.
"Could you tell us more details about that story?"
At Il-mok's question, the elder turned his head for some reason and gazed toward the distant northeast as he spoke.
"There was a great pasture far from here, where a territorial dispute erupted between two powerful tribes in the past."
It was an abrupt introduction, but Il-mok decided to listen for now.
Elders usually started old tales like this, after all.
"When too many tribesmen had died, the two tribes' kaghans decided to settle it personally. Both chieftains were great warriors of the plains, heroes not unworthy of the title Baatar."
The elder continued his explanation as if he had witnessed the battle himself.
"The pasture where that superhuman battle took place was said to have been reduced to scorched earth. But no matter how superhuman the fight, there is always a winner and loser. In the end, the Jarchigud tribe's kaghan had his heart pierced and lost his life."
According to the elder, the Jarchigud kaghan's body, after death, was given a sky burial per custom.
Nomads moved across the grasslands periodically in search of grazing for their livestock, so rather than burying a body in one place, sky burial was their tradition.
"And as the two kaghans had agreed, the Jarchigud tribe was absorbed into the Merkid tribe... but a problem arose later. The Jarchigud kaghan's body, left for sky burial, had disappeared."
According to the elder, the Jarchigud tribe, believing it was the Merkids' doing, revolted, claiming they had not only killed their great chieftain but also desecrated him.
"But the Jarchigud tribe, having lost their great chieftain, lacked the power to oppose the Merkids. They repeatedly retreated in every battle. Amid this, a rumor spread to both the Jarchigud and Merkid tribes."
"...A rumor about the missing corpse?"
"Indeed. Similar incidents occurred sporadically in other regions, where bodies left for sky burial vanished. There were even witnesses who saw Central Plains folk taking the corpses and fleeing."
Il-mok furrowed his brow and fell into thought.
'Corpses of masters called Baatars in the northern grasslands region. Something feels off.'
For some reason, the jiangshi he had seen in Sichuan came to mind.
"Could you tell us approximately when that incident happened?"
"Hmm. I didn't ask the exact time, but it was probably four or five years ago."
"Has it happened recently too?"
"The grasslands here are so vast that rumors spread quite slowly. But I haven't heard of any recent cases."
A corpse theft incident from four or five years ago.
The Blood Cult's trap and jiangshi in Sichuan about a year ago.
'The incident happened a year ago, but they must have prepared in advance.'
Somehow, the timeline seemed to match.
While Il-mok suspected the Blood Cult in his mind.
"It turned out to be a misunderstanding between the two tribes, but by then, the animosity had grown too deep. It was too late to reunite, so the defeated Jarchigud tribe left the great pasture and has been scraping by wandering the deserts and grasslands."
The elder continued without pause.
"Heh heh heh. Because of those rumors, the funeral customs have changed recently. Rather than risk losing the body to sky burial, they cremate it, scatter the ashes, and pray to Tengri."
As with most elders, once he started talking, he went on endlessly.
But since Il-mok had gained useful information thanks to it, he wasn't particularly displeased.
"Then how did the tribal chief hear that rumor? You know it in such detail, as if you saw it yourself."
"Heh heh heh. Two years ago, I happened to encounter the wandering Jarchigud tribe and spoke with them. That's why I was on edge with you all, just in case."
As the elder seemed about to ramble again, Il-mok quickly interjected.
"Could you tell us where that Jarchigud tribe is now? Or at least how to meet them?"
He planned to give up if the route was completely derailed, but if it was relatively close to the path to Heavenly Myriad Mountains, he intended to visit.
It concerned the Blood Cult, so it nagged at him in various ways.
Whiiiing.
The Soaring Heaven Sword, which had been quiet for a while, was on the verge of another fit.
"We don't know where they are now either. But I can tell you the location where we met them before."
At the elder's response, Il-mok gave a glance, and Jin Ha-yeon hurriedly prepared paper, brush, and ink.
The elder awkwardly gripped the brush and roughly sketched a map.
'It's not straight to Heavenly Myriad Mountains, but it doesn't deviate much from the route.'
After examining the map and sighing inwardly in relief, Il-mok looked up at the elder.
The Blood Cult info was unexpected, but he still had work to do.
"As thanks for your hospitality, how about we offer some help? Are there any sick among your tribesmen?"
Blood Cult was Blood Cult, and missionary work was missionary work.
"Among our Mi. Reuk. Myeong. Cult's physicians, there's one with excellent skill."
At Il-mok's introduction, Seo Jae-pil stepped forward with a beaming smile.
"I'm Seo Jae-pil."
It was the gaze of a physician seeking new experimental subjects. No, patients.