Chapter 266
Simultaneously, the merchant ship that had been racing forward with the favorable wind gradually began to slow its speed.
The ships chained together were equipped with devices capable of launching fire arrows and stone projectiles to sink distant vessels at any moment.
Moreover, to prevent anyone from approaching the gate,
they halted the ships mid-river to collect the passage tax.
And if any suspicious signs were detected?
The fire arrows and stone projectiles installed at the gate would immediately sink the ship.
Whoosh. Thud.
In that brief moment, over a dozen figures boarded the ship from the swift boats that had pulled up alongside it.
"Hmm."
Among them, a towering man with a deeply tanned face slowly strode across the deck.
This was none other than the Slaughtering Ferocious Ghost, Muk Jeok—the leader of the waterway stronghold responsible for guarding this passage.
"The Wind-Shooting Sword Sect, I see."
Muk Jeok's gaze fell upon the middle-aged man standing on the deck.
He was Bang-juk, the tactician of the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect and the captain steering the ship. Muk Jeok spoke to him as if they were familiar.
"What brings you here so suddenly?"
The Black Alliance had started as a ragtag band of rootless thieves, but by now, they possessed military strength surpassing even that of most orthodox sects in the Murim.
As one of the Black Alliance's high command, Muk Jeok spoke informally not only to Bang-juk but to everyone passing through these waters—without hesitation.
"Suddenly? This is just business as usual."
Bang-juk grinned and ordered a sailor to carry a chest over to where Muk Jeok stood.
When Muk Jeok nudged the chest open with his foot, the moonlight glinted off the silver taels packed tightly inside.
"Judging by the amount, I take it this is salt."
The Black Alliance had a unique way of collecting the passage tax.
Rather than demanding a fixed sum, they assessed the value and profit margin of the goods being transported and levied the tax accordingly.
"That's correct."
"Hmm."
Muk Jeok frowned slightly, rubbing his forehead with his fingers as if troubled.
"Our Alliance is currently engaged in battle with the forces of the Demon Hall."
"I'm aware. That's why we came with just one ship—to expedite urgent cargo."
Muk Jeok let out a sigh.
Normally, when transporting salt, the ships of the Seven Sword Gates of Qinghai would move in unison, cutting through the night winds.
Yet the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect had sent only a single vessel—a considerable courtesy to the Black Alliance, given their ongoing conflict.
"This is problematic."
Muk Jeok rubbed his forehead again.
"The Alliance Lord has given strict orders not to let a single ship pass through the All Swords Plain."
"If I turn back now, I'll be in trouble as well."
Bang-juk shrugged helplessly and signaled to a sailor with his eyes.
The sailor promptly brought another chest filled with silver taels and placed it before Muk Jeok.
"Will this show of sincerity suffice?"
"Mmm."
Muk Jeok exhaled deeply.
The Wind-Shooting Sword Sect had gone out of their way to send only one ship as a gesture of consideration—and even included extra payment.
If he turned them away without cause, it would inevitably create a rift with the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect, which had deep roots in Qinghai.
"Fine."
After a brief moment of contemplation, Muk Jeok nodded.
"But given the circumstances, I'll need to inspect the ship thoroughly."
Muk Jeok was a seasoned river bandit who had once served in the Yangtze Waterway Fortress.
Not only did he know the structure of ships better than anyone, but he was also intimately familiar with their workings.
No matter what tricks the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect might have employed, there was no way they could evade his scrutiny.
"If I detect anything suspicious..."
A murderous glint flashed in Muk Jeok's eyes.
With a single gesture from him, a merchant ship like this could be sent to the bottom in an instant.
"Understood."
Bang-juk nodded calmly, meeting Muk Jeok's bloodthirsty gaze.
"Then go ahead and inspect it quickly."
Muk Jeok began combing through the ship with the sharp eyes of a hawk.
What he sought were the hidden troops the Demon Hall might have dispatched.
But nothing particularly suspicious caught his eye. No—it couldn't catch his eye.
The ship's structure was too simple to hide anything, and there was no way a vessel this small could conceal a large force.
"Hmm."
Yet Muk Jeok didn't stop his inspection.
An inexplicable sense of unease had begun writhing in the back of his mind.
It could be called the intuition of a river bandit who had spent years on the water.
"Wait."
Then, abruptly, his gaze locked onto the face of a young man inside the cabin.
The man was unusually tall, with a gaunt frame and a pale complexion. He didn't look like a sailor at all.
"A face can be disguised, but height and presence cannot."
Having spent years as a bandit, Muk Jeok had eyes as sharp as a physiognomist's.
"Who are you?"
The young man trembled in fear and stammered,
"I-I'm a physician heading to the Red-Yellow Physicians Clan inside the All Swords Plain."
"A physician?"
Muk Jeok's eyes flashed.
"Martial artists often disguise themselves as physicians."
Martial artists were not only well-versed in the human body but also trained in basic medical arts in case of injuries.
Because of this, martial artists often disguise themselves as physicians when concealing their identities.
'There must be a way to weed them out.'
"Oh-ho, a young physician, I see. We'll be seeing each other often."
Muk Jeok grinned and extended a hand as thick as a cauldron lid.
When the physician gave him a puzzled look, he immediately moved his fingers and seized the Pulse Gate.
'No matter how well they disguise themselves, they can't possibly have not a shred of internal energy.'
No matter how ordinary one's appearance may be, it's impossible to completely conceal the internal energy within the body.
Well aware of this, Muk Jeok gripped the young man's Pulse Gate and forcefully injected his own formidable internal power.
"Ghk—!"
The young physician jolted in pain.
For someone with no internal energy at all, having power forcibly channeled into their Pulse Gate was akin to having their meridians pierced by needles.
'Not him.'
Muk Jeok immediately withdrew his energy.
No matter how high one's realm may be, traces of internal energy within the body cannot be entirely erased.
This young man was truly just a physician with no knowledge of martial arts.
"Are you satisfied now?"
Muk Jeok did not answer Bang-juk's question.
No matter how closely he scrutinized them, he found nothing amiss—yet an inexplicable unease lingered in his mind.
"Hmm."
After a thorough inspection, his eyes suddenly flashed.
'Ah. That could be it.'
Muk Jeok pointed at one of the sailors in the distance.
"You—come here."
A large, rough-faced man grumbled as he stepped forward.
"What is it?"
"Your palm."
At Muk Jeok's curt command, the man frowned but obediently extended his hand.
The thick calluses on his palm were unmistakable—the natural result of years of labor as a sailor.
'Was I being too paranoid?'
"What's this about?"
The sailor's indifferent tone only made Muk Jeok smirk.
With his coarse features and the way he dared to talk back, there was no doubt—this man was a seasoned sailor through and through.
"Nothing. Go on."
Then, Muk Jeok turned to Bang-juk and nodded.
"Nothing out of the ordinary. You may pass."
Muk Jeok returned to his patrol boat.
Not long after, the clanking sound of a mechanism echoed through the night sky.
Simultaneously, the ships blocking the waterway shifted aside, creating a passage for one vessel to proceed.
"Whew."
As they passed through the opened gate, the man standing on the deck let out a sigh and tossed aside the towel he had been wearing on his head.
It was the very sailor Muk Jeok had inspected earlier.
"Must be because he's spent his whole life as a river pirate. His instincts are terrifyingly sharp."
He was none other than Won Se-mun.
One by one, the sailors crouching nearby also removed the towels from their heads.
They were all members of the Death Shadow Squad.
"That sharp-eyed pirate was bound to inspect us this way... As expected, the Chief's foresight is impossible to evade."
At those words, Bang-juk coughed awkwardly, his face flushing.
Originally, Bang-juk had been confident that simply flying the banner of the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect would be enough to pass through unchallenged.
But Bu Eun-seol had predicted that Muk Jeok, a former river pirate himself, wouldn't let them through so easily.
However, it was impossible to hide fifty men aboard a ship under his keen scrutiny, so they had disguised themselves as sailors instead.
They had even placed a young physician in the cabin to confuse Muk Jeok's instincts.
And for those disguised as sailors, they had meticulously applied realistic calluses to their hands.
"At least it's fortunate that we're smuggling a large shipment of salt as a merchant vessel."
"Right. Even a large crew wouldn't seem out of place."
Just then, the cooks who had been preparing meals in the galley stepped out, chatting idly.
As they wiped their faces, their appearances transformed into those of lively young men.
They were the successors of the Seven Sword Gates of Qinghai—including Guyang Cheong-jeong.
When Bu Eun-seol had refused additional troops, they had volunteered to board the ship themselves.
"By the way, where is the Chief?"
When Han So-ung asked, Won Se-mun let out an "Ah!"
"Someone go and fetch the commander and the newly appointed group leaders."
At his call, one of the unit members dashed toward the ship's warehouse.
Bu Eun-seol had reached the state of Return to Plainness, but Myo Cheon-u and Yu Un-ryong possessed the distinctive aura of Transcendence Realm masters.
Knowing that even the best disguises wouldn't fool Muk Jeok's sharp eyes, they had hollowed out a space beneath the cabin floor.
There, they had concealed themselves using the Turtle Breath Grand Art.
"Unnecessary."
As if they had already sensed the approach, Bu Eun-seol, Myo Cheon-u, and Yu Un-ryong suddenly appeared on the deck.
The successors of the Seven Sword Gates immediately approached Bu Eun-seol.
"You've worked hard."
"You all have as well."
"What have we even done?"
As they humbly deferred, Bu Eun-seol smiled faintly and gazed toward the rear of the ship.
"Had you not joined forces to assist us, the main force would never have slipped past the surveillance of the Blood Flame Doga Family unnoticed."
He had long since sensed the presence of the watchers sent by Do Cheon-rin.
And for this plan to succeed, around fifty members of the Death Shadow Squad needed to move undetected, slipping past the eyes of those watchers.
—Then does that mean there's nothing left for us to do?
When the successors of the Seven Sword Gates, gathered at the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect for their meeting, asked this, Bu Eun-seol had replied thus:
"Of course, there is something far more important."
That crucial task was moving the Death Shadow Squad's forces without Do Cheon-rin's notice.
Under normal circumstances, it would have been nearly impossible.
But once the Seven Sword Gates of Qinghai, at Bu Eun-seol's request, pooled their efforts together, the situation changed entirely.
They created decoy forces disguised as the Death Shadow Squad and had them move in different directions.
In the end, the watchers were thrown into confusion, and in that brief opening, the real Death Shadow Squad safely made their way to the Wind-Shooting Sword Sect's ship.
No matter how brilliant Do Cheon-rin's foresight was, he could never have imagined that Bu Eun-seol would secure the full cooperation of the Seven Sword Gates of Qinghai.
He would not even dream of such a scenario.
"Once you arrive at the All Swords Plain, board the ship and return immediately."
At Bu Eun-seol's words, the successors waved their hands dismissively.
"What nonsense is this? We've come this far—of course we must fight alongside you!"
"Exactly! We've trained our martial arts diligently all this time precisely for moments like these!"
Though the successors clamored noisily, Guyang Cheong-jeong merely watched from afar, not approaching him.
She knew—that Bu Eun-seol held not even a glimmer of interest in her.
No matter how hard she tried, she could never reach that distant figure.
'Cheong-mae.'
Watching this, Wi Ji-un inwardly smiled bitterly.
Truth be told, all the successors of the Seven Sword Gates of Qinghai harbored feelings for Guyang Cheong-jeong.
After all, the very reason they had all gathered in the first place was because she, the only woman among them, had brought them together.
'From our perspective, this is actually a relief.'
Though it pained him to see Guyang Cheong-jeong suffering, from their standpoint, they could only be grateful to Bu Eun-seol for drawing such a clear line.
"We will arrive at the All Swords Plain around dawn."
At that moment, Bu Eun-seol, casting aside the tattered cloth draped over his body, spoke coldly.
"Prepare yourselves."
—"As you command!"
The Death Shadow Squad bowed their heads with solemn expressions.
Soon, a fierce battle of blood and flesh would erupt.
The slowly rising sun was driving away the darkness.
At dawn, the elite soldiers of the Black Alliance stationed near the shore blinked in surprise.
A single merchant ship had docked at the shore where three hundred troops stood guard with fire in their eyes—
And from it, fifty martial artists armed with weapons disembarked, striding boldly toward the guard post.
—"These lunatics..."
The Black Alliance bandits sneered at them.
"No need to ask who they are. Kill them."
As the leader commanding the coastal outpost gave the order to attack, his subordinates fired long-range bolts from their strong bows.
The arrows, loosed into the sky, rained down like black droplets upon the martial artists.
"What—?"
The Black Alliance bandits could not help but gape.
Every single one of those fifty warriors possessed extraordinary martial arts—the fierce volleys of bolts inflicted little damage.
"Fire the stone pavers as well!"
The flustered leader barked another command.
From the spring-loaded mechanisms installed behind the outpost, dense clusters of stone pavers were hurled skyward.
But it was already too late.
The stone pavers were not meant for anti-personnel use—they were siege weapons designed to attack ships approaching the shore.
By the time they were launched, the fifty martial artists had already closed the distance with lightning-fast movement techniques, rendering the stone pavers meaningless.
—Clang! Clash!
—"Agh! Aaagh!"
From the wide-open skies above, the sounds of clashing weapons and agonized screams echoed.
Under the indiscriminate assault of the fifty martial artists, the Black Alliance bandits fell like bundles of straw, their dying shrieks filling the air.
Though their numbers were only fifty, their martial arts and tactics were of a level never before seen.
Despite wielding different martial arts and weapons, there was not a single gap in their offense or defense.
Watching their battle from afar, it was as if five colossal weapons were alternating between attack and defense.
"Ugh..."
The leader, observing this, bit his lip.
The corpses piled around the defensive perimeter numbered roughly two hundred.
And this was less than a quarter of an hour since the battle had begun.
"Send word—enemy forces have breached our defenses!"
The leader's shout was met with a despairing reply.
"The headquarters has also been ambushed by the Blood Mist Corps!"
"What?!"
The leader's face hardened like stone.
"Then that means... they sent a separate strike force to coincide with the attack on the headquarters."
He gritted his teeth.
Their martial prowess was overwhelming—they would tear through this place and storm the headquarters in one breath.
Now, there was only one method left: Jade Shattering.
They had to hold out until death, buying as much time as possible to slow them down.