Chapter 309
Chapter 309
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 309
>Chapter Title: God (3)
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In a massive compound somewhere in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's main headquarters.
A bizarre scene was unfolding there.
In a place that didn't suit its position as a divine stronghold, people of various races had gathered, and an enthusiastic lesson was underway, as if teaching young children.
"Stream. Look at the picture, the picture! Doesn't it look like water flowing down a stream?"
Selected instructors from the Demonic Path Academy had gathered them together to teach them Chinese characters and the language of the Central Plains. Among those assembled, some wore expressions of understanding.
"Heh?"
Others stared blankly, reacting with deeply foreign bewilderment.
It had been three months since Il-mok first brought the slaves to the main headquarters.
The slaves' learning pace varied wildly, to the point where the phrase "each to their own" came to mind.
For those with poor comprehension and memory, their progress was as slow as children just starting the Thousand Character Classic at an academy, and some were even relearning from the beginning alongside the newly arrived slaves.
Learning characters filled with meaning when they couldn't even communicate verbally was difficult in many ways, so it was unavoidable.
On the other hand, there were some who showed talent for picking up foreign languages.
"Stream, it's stream. Look closely at that character's shape. Doesn't it look just like water flowing?"
Among them, James, who had learned the language the fastest, had already mastered the Thousand Character Classic in just three months.
Thanks to his exceptional comprehension, he had taken on the role of an assistant instructor, helping the teachers educate the slaves.
Seeing James diligently teaching the slaves characters, the instructors wore pleased expressions.
"That fellow seems quite useful, doesn't he?"
"Indeed. Without him, I wonder how much we'd have suffered teaching these people."
"You might have lost control again by tomorrow. Haha."
"Then you'd have to stop me, right? Ah! But your skills are inferior to mine, so that'd be tough."
"...Shall we spar today? You seem to have quite a few unused parts on your head, so I'll kindly trim off about a third."
As the two instructors showed signs of suddenly rampaging, James let out a sigh of relief.
Not because of their impending outburst.
'They've acknowledged my usefulness. Phew. I won't be offered as a sacrifice for a while.'
James was terrified. The moment they discovered he was useless, these devil worshippers would offer him up as a sacrifice.
But James teaching them diligently wasn't solely for his own survival.
"Please study harder! If you don't, you might end up as sacrificial offerings in a human tribute!!"
Perhaps due to the bond formed over several months together, James hoped the other slaves would survive too.
After nagging the pale-skinned foreigners diligently, James looked toward the black and nomadic slaves with a pitying expression.
He couldn't communicate perfectly with them either, making it hard to help properly.
At best, with his language talent and gestures, he could manage minimal communication.
Even a month ago, around seventy women and children had joined, swelling the nomads' numbers enormously.
Gazing sympathetically at the women and children newly captured by the devil worshippers, James caught sight of a strange scene.
The man who was the Demon King's brother and the lead instructor.
The mad young man named Jong-ri Chu, who had rampaged from the first day of classes, seeing hallucinations.
He had started conversing with the nomads in their language, which even James couldn't fully understand.
Jong-ri Chu was explaining the meanings of Chinese characters in the nomads' tongue. His pronunciation was just a bit awkward.
'Whoa, did he know their language from the beginning?'
Then why had he pretended not to until now?
As such questions arose, Jong-ri Chu finished his explanation and approached James.
"Hahaha. You've been through a lot."
James uttered the polite phrase commonly used by the locals here, which he'd heard often while living in this place.
"Just doing what needed to be done."
With somewhat awkward pronunciation as he showed respect, James subtly posed a question.
"But... did you know their language?"
"Hahaha. Some friends I recently made taught me."
"Friends... you say?"
As James wore a puzzled expression, Jong-ri Chu smiled dreamily and looked around.
At the empty air where no one was.
"Thanks to tussling with them, I've made quite a few nomadic friends lately."
"......"
"Hahaha. Don't worry. Thanks to you all, I've made several pale-skinned friends too."
Jong-ri Chu, who had been smiling and scanning the empty air, turned his head and looked at the speechless James.
"By the way... what does 'human sacrifice' mean? I roughly understood the other things you said, but that's a new term to me."
James felt cold sweat dripping down his back at the innocently smiling question.
* * *
While James was trembling in fear, in Lanzhou of Gansu Province.
Il-mok was handing over a completed bow and arrows to Jeong-hyeon.
"Congratulations, Jeong Sojeo."
Jeong-hyeon showed a somewhat reluctant reaction to Il-mok, who smiled lightly as he offered the bow.
"Y-Young Master... W-what is that?"
"Hahaha. Can't you tell by looking? It's a bow."
"...It seems too big to be called a bow, Young Master."
Jeong-hyeon looked at the bow Il-mok held out with both hands.
With just a slight exaggeration, it was as tall as Jeong-hyeon herself.
"Hahaha. I tried to use as much of that mountain goat's horn as possible from last time, so it ended up bigger than expected. Want to draw it?"
At Il-mok's explanation, Jeong-hyeon recalled a past event.
'...So that's why he said it was fortunate my height is tall for a woman.'
She had thought it was about his tastes, but she vigorously shook her head.
To dispel the unnecessary thought, Jeong-hyeon awkwardly took the bow and tried drawing the string.
Kkiririririk.
She felt tremendous tension from the bowstring and realized it was impossible to draw it fully with raw strength alone.
Jeong-hyeon channeled her internal energy from her dantian and fully drew the string, upon which Il-mok nodded in satisfaction.
"Impressive, isn't it? The power of the spirit beast's horn and tendons. I heard ordinary wood can't withstand that power, so they used a special timber called King Kong Wood."
At Il-mok's explanation, Jeong-hyeon released the bowstring she had been holding with internal energy, for the sake of conversation.
Pwaeaeaeak!
Just releasing the string produced a vicious whoosh like swinging a whip.
Jeong-hyeon stared at the bow in her hands with a strange expression for a moment, then turned to look at Il-mok.
"Y-Young Master."
"Speak, Jeong Sojeo."
"I'm grateful for the gift, but... I can't shoot arrows with a bow like this. It's too big and strong; it's hard to even nock an arrow, and it feels like they'd break before flying."
"Ah, don't worry about that. The craftsman even took care of that part."
With those words, Il-mok removed the quiver slung over his shoulder and held it out.
Only then did Jeong-hyeon realize.
Why Il-mok had brought a case that seemed to hold short spears.
Those things she thought were short spears were arrows.
A bow larger and ridiculously more powerful than what Jeong-hyeon had used before. And arrows to match the absurdity.
Confirming that bizarre combination, Jeong-hyeon oddly felt a sense of familiarity.
This pairing of bow and arrows was certainly not some novel invention.
'...It's a bed crossbow.'
A siege weapon used by the military since ancient times for war.
In other words, it resembled the mechanical crossbow that required several adult men to draw the string.
And now, Il-mok had prepared it for personal carry and use.
"Didn't you say before, Jeong Sojeo? That even as your realm advances, you don't feel stronger. So I prepared this for you."
Jeong-hyeon, who had been wearing a bewildered expression, felt an inexplicable sense of relief at Il-mok's words.
'At least... Young Master has been thinking about my worries.'
It was a weapon that defied common sense, but soon Jeong-hyeon accepted the odd armament.
After all, she could draw it sufficiently using internal energy.
And as Il-mok said, if she could draw and shoot it, its power and speed would be several times greater than her previous bow.
"I-I'll do my best to be of help to you, Young Master!"
"Hahaha. I'm counting on you alone, Jeong Sojeo."
At Il-mok's words, she blushed slightly, gathered the bow and arrows, and withdrew.
And the next day.
As they set out from Lanzhou once more for their journey northward.
Jeong-hyeon finally realized the bow's most critical flaw, belatedly.
"Good heavens, a bow that huge."
"Heh heh. I wonder if she can even shoot it."
The fact that her appearance, with the ridiculously enormous bow on her back, was far too conspicuous.
'Th-the bow's making everyone stare at me...'
With her face flushed and head bowed deeply, she wanted to toss the bow away right then, but she couldn't. It was Il-mok's gift.
'I-is there anywhere to hide...'
Looking around at the nearby wagons, she soon despaired.
The bow was too big to fit inside.
* * *
After Il-mok and his group traveled from Gansu through the grasslands to Xinjiang, then from Xinjiang via desert paths to the Western Regions, repeating this several times.
Among the nomads whose paths crossed theirs, the name 'Maitreya Bright Cult' began to spread little by little.
"Merchants traveling from the Central Plains to the Western Regions?"
Rumors of them spread through the nearby grasslands of the Central Plains, eventually reaching a massive tribe settled in the northern Heavenly Myriad Mountains.
"Yes, Khagan. They say they depart from a place called Gansu in the Central Plains and pass east of the Tianshan Mountains."
Taragai, the Khagan of the Oirat tribe, muttered toward his subordinate reporting on one knee.
"What a wondrous thing. Merchants using the northern route to the Western Regions, how can they reach it without even offering tribute to us?"
At Taragai's question, the man hastily bowed his head.
"W-we haven't ascertained that yet."
Whether from fear of Taragai, the man swallowed dryly.
Looking down at him, Taragai smirked and spoke.
"No matter."
It was a light laugh, yet it carried the scent of blood, like a predator's grin.
"We're expanding our territory eastward anyway, so we can just go find them this time."
As Taragai said, they were continuously expanding eastward.
They had no other choice.
The north had already reached its limit. Anything further north was too cold for humans to live, except during the hottest seasons.
The west was the same. As the Huihui faith grew rampant, it was becoming a den of fanatics.
The south was blocked by the Heavenly Myriad Mountains barrier, and that barrier was held by fanatics no less zealous than the Huihui.
And above all.
'Conquering west or south would be a pyrrhic victory at best.'
Those two directions were environments as harsh as the Oirat tribe's own homeland.
Taragai, Khagan of the Oirat tribe and great Batur of the steppes, had a firm goal.
Expand territory eastward, subjugating as many tribes as possible.
Then, using all their combined might, invade the land called the 'Central Plains.'
'I will seize it no matter what.'
Unlike this harsh world, it was said to be a bountiful land where rice and fruits grew abundantly.
"Huhu. We'll fatten our warriors' bellies with the money from those Central Plains merchants."
In the eyes of the predator dreaming of conquering the Central Plains, flames of greed blazed.