Chapter 219
Chapter 219
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 219
Chapter Title: Songshan Blood Battle (3)
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“Ha! I have no idea what this nonsense is, dragging us out at the crack of dawn.”
Cheol Woo grumbled through one yawn after another. Most of the wounds from his recent clash with the Blood Fiend Cult had scabbed over nicely, visible on his face and wherever his clothes didn't cover.
“Have you forgotten? We decided to head out today.”
At Thunderclap's sharp rebuke, Cheol Woo stretched his arms wide overhead.
“Who could forget that? What I'm saying is, what's the rush this early? Ack!”
A sudden yelp burst from Cheol Woo's mouth.
Jinrim glowered at him, her face twisted in anger as she pinched a thick fold of flesh on his side.
“Ow, what the hell?”
Cheol Woo recoiled a step, his face scrunching up in pain.
“You scarfed down all that chicken last night, and now your head's turned into a chicken brain?”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“I clearly told you why we need to hurry and hit the road.”
“When did you... Oh!”
Only then did Cheol Woo recall what Jinrim had said the night before, his expression turning sheepish.
“Remember now, do you?”
“Y-Yeah.”
Cheol Woo nodded awkwardly.
The Sword Pavilion had taken heavy losses in the battle against the Blood Fiend Cult. After retreating to a spot a short distance from Phoenix Mountain to focus on recovery, they'd decided to return to their home base.
They'd repelled the Blood Fiend Cult that had been rampaging through Shandong's martial world. Sure, they'd had Sima Geon's help, but they'd still taken down the cult leader and avenged the previous Sword Lord in the process. With Iron Blood Palace and North Sea Ice Palace—threats looming over Shaolin—now confirmed to be withdrawing, there was no reason to linger.
Having made the call to pull back, the Sword Pavilion threw everything into treating the wounded while also beginning the grim task of recovering the bodies of comrades they'd buried without proper funerals.
As the cremated remains filled more and more urns, those moaning from their injuries began to shake them off, one by one, rising back to their feet.
Thus, a fortnight passed.
They'd fully recovered the buried bodies of their fallen, and treatment for the wounded had progressed enough. Of course, a few still suffered from severe injuries that left them uncomfortable, but the Sword Pavilion couldn't afford to delay forever—they set a departure date.
They opted for the waterways instead of overland travel on the way back.
The distance from their current camp to the docks where they could board a boat was considerable. With so many urns to transport and wounded still needing care, delays were likely. That's why they'd rushed preparations from early morning.
“Forgetting about the horses was definitely my screw-up, but cut me some slack. Those injuries from that day still have my limbs aching—not to mention this damn headache.”
Cheol Woo whined, stealing glances at Jinrim.
At the mention of pain, Jinrim's narrowed eyes softened just a touch.
Cheol Woo boasted a body as tough as diamond, unbreakable.
He didn't look all that inconvenienced on the surface.
But in the fight with the Blood Fiend Cult, no one had suffered graver wounds than him. Especially the critical injuries he'd sustained blocking the Thunderclap Bomb the cult leader had hurled at the Sword Lord and the wounded—that had nearly killed him.
Cheol Woo lost consciousness the instant the battle ended, only regaining it five full days later.
Thanks to the Sword Lord's consideration, Jinrim had stayed by his side. She knew better than anyone the desperate efforts Sima Geon, So Surin, and the others had poured into saving him—or just how dire his injuries had been.
Jinrim nursed him with such devotion that onlookers raised eyebrows in curiosity.
She claimed it was only natural to care for a man who'd sacrificed for the Sword Pavilion, but the looks people gave said otherwise.
Once Cheol Woo overcame his brush with death through everyone's tireless care and rose from his sickbed, things between the two had noticeably progressed. They denied anything of the sort, of course—but no one bought it.
A short distance away, Sima Geon watched Cheol Woo and Jinrim bicker with a pleased smile. He turned to Manchu, who wore a similar grin.
“It'll take about three hours to reach the docks, right?”
“Yes.”
Manchu, who'd already scouted the port a couple times under the guise of arranging passage, glanced at a Sword Pavilion disciple emerging with a comrade's support and continued.
“Might take even longer, depending.”
“Can't be helped. It's a haul, for sure. But Black Wolf's all set?”
“Yes. We're chartering it just for us anyway. We've arranged separate payments for the captain and crew, like last time.”
“Good work.”
“No trouble at all. I was scouting the martial world situation anyway—killed two birds with one stone.”
“By the way, how's the Youngho Clan faring? Any word?”
“They've probably reached the clan by now, but nothing concrete yet.”
“What about the Youngho Clan head? Pulled out from Phoenix Mountain, didn't he? Heading back home?”
“No. Thought he was at first, but he went to the Orthodox Heaven Alliance instead. Officially, to assess their issues up close and plan countermeasures—but that's just an excuse.”
“Better that way. Even if Youngho tries something, it'd be tough with the clan head still kicking around.”
“No clue what he's thinking. He was tearing his hair out at first, searching for his missing retainers from Phoenix Mountain. The Beggars' Sect did everything to cover tracks, but he gave up way too easily. When the Youngho Clan erupts later, he'll realize how foolish that call was.”
“And Shaolin? Any hitches or troubles?”
So Surin asked quietly over her tea.
“Yes. Seems fine. Iron Blood Palace and North Sea Ice Palace look nearly ready to withdraw too. Word is some have already started retreating.”
“Still feels fishy to me. They could be lulling everyone into complacency for a surprise attack.”
“Nah, you're underestimating our network. The Beggars' Sect has nearly all eyes glued to Shaolin. We'd spot anything suspicious in a heartbeat.”
“Just in case.”
“If only the Blood Fiend Cult had retreated, folks might think like you, sis. They'd stay on guard. But with their elites and leader dead, Iron Blood Palace and North Sea Ice Palace pulling out was inevitable. Without their leader, the cult's hunkering down for a while. And for those palaces, clearly allied with them, clashing with Shaolin solo is a big risk. Besides, they've already grabbed what they came for—no need to push.”
“North Hebei?”
Sima Geon asked.
“Yes. With the North Hebei Peng Clan wiped out, North Hebei's fully under North Sea Ice Palace's thumb. That's plenty for them—no need to overreach.”
“Iron Blood Palace? They smashed Zhongnan and Huashan, but can they really claim those territories? Wudang's still around, and it's a stretch distance-wise.”
Manchu hesitated at So Surin's words. Jegal Su, who'd been playing with Black Wolf, approached and spoke up.
“They gained fame. And vented some pent-up urges.”
“Fame? Urges?”
So Surin looked baffled.
“Iron Blood Palace and North Sea Ice Palace are in different boats from the start. North Sea Ice Palace's influence isn't just around the North Sea—it's basically everywhere north of North Hebei. Taking it over isn't hard; just expand a bit from what they hold. Iron Blood Palace is different. Home base is the Great Desert. Far away, rough roads. Can't ignore the Central Plains' allure, though. Even controlling trade routes, their turf's barren compared to the abundance here. But they can't expand like North Sea Ice Palace.”
“No local factions to back them up.”
Jegal Su nodded at Sima Geon's words.
“Exactly. Unless Iron Blood Palace relocates entirely, expanding territory without support is impossible. Instead, crushing giants like Zhongnan and Huashan Sects showed their might. Shook the martial world that secretly dismissed them as desert upstarts. Most importantly, they got to unleash their cravings.”
Sima Geon grasped it immediately.
“Plunder?”
“Spot on. Desert overlord or not, their roots are bandit gangs preying on traders crossing east and west. Always hungry for loot. Intel from the branch says they got their fill this time. Zhongnan and Huashan are gutted, roots and all, and most sects en route to Shaolin got hit too. Fame earned, plunder aplenty—no need for Iron Blood Palace to risk Shaolin.”
All nodded along to Jegal Su's rundown.
“That said, if I were leading Iron Blood Palace or North Sea Ice Palace, I'd attack Shaolin anyway. Blood Fiend Cult brass would push for it somehow.”
“What?”
“Out of nowhere?”
His abrupt reversal left everyone stunned.
“Shaolin standing strong pressures North Sea Ice Palace, if not Iron Blood. Blood Fiend Cult would love to see it crushed. Key point: like sis said, every condition for complacency is perfectly set.”
Jegal Su grinned at Manchu's blank stare.
“If they dodge the Beggars' eyes and land a solid ambush, it's the golden chance to topple Shaolin. One that won't come again.”
Jegal Su sipped tea he'd swiped from So Surin, utterly casual. But the others watching weren't—his words carried an ominous ring of inevitability. Manchu, proud of the Beggars' network, looked especially wrecked.
“Come on, it's just a hypothetical. Slim odds at best. Lighten up, everyone.”
Jegal Su tried joking to ease the mood, but it fell flat.
“Why's everyone so grim here?”
Cheol Woo shuffled over, half-supported, half-clinging to Jinrim, eyeing the group's heavy vibe in confusion.
“This guy's dropped a bomb.”
Sima Geon gave a wry smile, pointing at Jegal Su.
“You again?”
“'Again'? I haven't done a thing.”
Jegal Su looked wronged.
“Shut it. Weird shit happens whenever you show up. Blood Fiend Cult leader—who asked for that?”
“My fault? Totally unrelated to me. I just sniffed out their plot early and came to help.”
“Whatever. Anyway.”
Cheol Woo waved him off dismissively, then pointed at the bustling Wyrm Dragon Squad helping the Sword Pavilion.
“So why haven't you lot headed back? How far you tagging along?”
“Going to Shaolin now feels pointless. Got to return home anyway—waterway to Nanking's fastest and easiest.”
“Freeloading, in other words.”
“Freeloading? After the coin we shelled out for the boat...”
“Quiet. Fine, it's comfy. You not sorry for your buddies grinding at Shaolin?”
Jegal Su shrugged and chuckled at Cheol Woo's bark.
“Wonder what they're up to.”