The Black Flame Dragon Collecting His Winnings (4)
Northwesterly winds began to sweep through Sichuan. Farmers hurried to stockpile firewood for the winter, while merchants cut back on orders to brace for a market frozen solid like the lake's surface. Warriors dispatched far from home, thousands of li away, felt their loneliness deepen with the morning chill.
But that was all coming to an end today. After the Black Dao sects preparing for battle in Sichuan returned to their own factions, they began sending limited support supplies. The joint operation announced by the Four Black Alliances had been just that—a joint effort—but no one had the guts to suddenly turn their backs to yesterday's enemies and fight side by side starting tomorrow.
Besides, compared to the Orthodox Dao, which had spread its influence far and wide, the Black Dao's shaky finances meant their aid was pathetically meager.
Yet despite it all, the Murim Alliance's morale soared higher than ever. The relief of not having to watch their backs was a sweeter reward than anything money could buy. On top of that, the Poison King of the Tang family, along with the Qingcheng and Emei sects and numerous factions under the 108 Peaks, spared no support for the Alliance.
The Poison King stood before the overflowing ranks of warriors, hands planted firmly on his waist.
“We've dragged this war on too long! Now it's time to end it!”
“““Woooaaah!”””
“So now, it's time to show those bastards what happens when you defy heaven's will!”
“““Let's goooo!”””
By rights, the Alliance's Blue Dragon Pavilion Master should have led the troops, but considering symbolism and morale, the actual command fell to him while the Poison King took the nominal role of supreme commander. This strategic decision from the leadership and strategists had, as expected, skyrocketed Orthodox Dao morale.
If the enemy used bizarre sorcery, then their side had the Poison Man and the Poison King. This simple, rock-solid reassurance, combined with the hope that the war was finally ending, turned Alliance warriors into ferocious beasts like never before.
Formation masters from Mosanpa and the Jegal family led the way, dismantling the qimenjin arrays set up by the Blood Cult. Poison experts cleared the toxins scattered everywhere, opening paths, and the Orthodox Dao poured into the Blood Cult like an unstoppable flood.
“Kill them! Slaughter every last one!”
“They play with corpses! Don't leave a single one alive!”
“No prisoners! Don't leave a single weed standing here!”
Fueled by rage over the Blood Cult's atrocities, the Orthodox Dao swept through like a storm. In the cult's deepest basement, they found a hundred bodies prepared for turning into jiangshi, and over two hundred more with clear signs of failed transformations.
This horrific sight spread through word of mouth to the dispatch forces, igniting not just their pent-up fury but a burning sense of mission to exterminate all heaven-defying scum.
There was no mercy left in their hands. They slaughtered every Blood Cult warrior and sorcerer, seized all research and lab data, then set the places ablaze.
“Ha, I surrender!”
“P-please, spare me!”
“I'll tell you everything I know...!”
Some, sensing the cult's end, surrendered early—but the Alliance showed no exceptions. Aside from a few sorcerers earmarked for sorcery research, most were executed on the spot. Especially those who had cultivated Blood Cult martial arts.
In the midst of this storm wiping out the Blood Cult, Poison King Dang Hyeokje took Maeng Ju-won along to inspect the experimental corpses and documents.
“Tsk tsk. Pathetic at a glance.”
“I-is that so?”
“Their scholarship's shallow, experiments sloppy.”
Maeng Ju-won nodded, forcing down the nausea rising in his throat at Dang Hyeokje's words.
“Y-yes, I see. But... why am I here...?”
He was with the support unit, a strategist. Strategists planned operations—they didn't plunge deep into the battlefield.
“You need to see this to understand the enemy.”
“...”
He'd grown somewhat used to the odd speech pattern, but the content still baffled him. What was the point of the Mantongbu deputy chief scouting enemies personally?
“Tsk tsk. Sending an idiot like you into this crisis. I'll have to chew out that bald-headed fool.”
Idiot? Calling the Mantongbu's top talent an idiot... Well, Jegal Somyeong was bald-headed, but still. Veins bulged on Maeng Ju-won's forehead as Dang Hyeokje clicked his tongue, but he hid his irritation. He wasn't sure yet how far he could push.
The Poison King eyed the pale-faced Maeng Ju-won and spat it out bluntly.
“Their main weapons were sorcery and iron corpses. But they couldn't even make iron corpses. Don't you get what that means?”
“Ah!”
Maeng Ju-won's head snapped as if struck.
“You mean... there's someone else behind them?”
He pieced together the unthinkable scenario in his mind. How much treasure and lives had the Alliance poured into just this Blood Cult? Even resolving Sichuan changed nothing—they'd only held what they already had.
But if these weren't the head, just the tail? How many pillars of the Alliance had been lost crushing such a tail? A few more like this, and they'd face existential crisis. If the real puppet masters appeared...
...the Murim Alliance would collapse.
That's what Dang Hyeokje was saying.
“Not certain.”
“...”
Unlike Moyong Gang, the world-famous Poison King never minced words. He wouldn't speculate lightly. As if to prove it, shadows crossed his face.
“But we prepare anyway.”
“...”
Prepare. Easy to say, hard to do. But seeing Dang Hyeokje's hardened expression, Maeng Ju-won sensed he was already bracing for harsh days ahead.
“Get used to it. This won't be the last time you see scenes like this.”
Leaving Maeng Ju-won pallid from repeated vomiting, Dang Hyeokje turned away. In that moment, chills ran down Maeng Ju-won's spine.
'N-no way... I have to keep doing this forever?'
Why hadn't he thought of it? War didn't just shake the Alliance—it dragged strategists like him into the fray too.
'F-fuck...'
The fear that his lifelong dream might never come true began filling his chest with dread and despair.
“Curiosity satisfied?”
At Chaseokdu's question, Damak set down his teacup again.
“Honestly... I still don't quite get it.”
Just before Jin Sowoon woke, Damak had wanted to meet him faster than anyone—to confirm the mysterious figures in his quarters. But the man who'd survived death needed to be seen first by the Alliance delegation.
Even so, Damak asked Chaseokdu, who then had to ask the delegation. But...
'Who'd have thought the Tang kid would be the obstacle.'
Ak Byeongbi predictably refused first, but surprisingly didn't care much. Instead, Dang Seohui the brat dug in her heels, insisting she had to witness the awakening herself, even threatening.
It was pure personal emotion, beyond politics, and unbreakable. Neither Ak Byeongbi nor Ilmyeong could sway her.
Knowing the Tang stubbornness, Chaseokdu was about to concede when Ilmyeong sent a transmission.
-Let her play deputy alliance leader, and she'll back off.
Deputy alliance leader play? What the hell, monk!
Perplexed, Chaseokdu got another transmission.
-Just have her lead Sahyeokryeon warriors around the Four Black Alliances a couple laps.
Following the 'advice,' Chaseokdu proposed it to Dang Seohui, half-expecting failure.
“...W-well, no choice then. Shame, but I'll yield the first meeting.”
After deep thought, she accepted. Dressed in ill-fitting Sahyeokryeon iron armor, perched on Hwang Busik's shoulder, she marched the alliances a few rounds. Hwang Busik suffered, but neither he nor the warriors minded much.
She was Jin Sowoon's comrade who'd saved Sahyeokryeon, after all.
Yet after all that hassle to arrange the meeting, Damak says he still doesn't get it. Chaseokdu's brow furrowed, and Damak gently fiddled with his cup.
“He risked his life for his own detriment. Orthodox call it 'righteousness,' but... my reason doesn't sense true righteousness in him.”
Damak's eyes drooped sadly. His face, usually sharp like a wildcat's, looked today like a sulky puppy.
Chaseokdu chuckled at the sight.
“That's 'cause you overthink with logic.”
“What do you...?”
“I get the gist.”
Damak's lips parted.
“...You understand?”
“You and that kid are both lonely souls.”
“...”
Damak scowled. He'd lived with books his whole life, but he was as manly as they come—minus the martial arts. Lonely? Him?
Chaseokdu gazed warmly at the pensive Damak.
“Know the kid's origins?”
“Tae-eul Gate, I heard.”
“Right. In your old world, that's like a rundown village schoolhouse.”
Chaseokdu grinned mischievously.
“Teacher's incompetent, tuition unpaid, roof leaking.”
“...”
“And that kid? He passed your provincial and metropolitan exams from there.”
“The hyangsi and hoesi?”
Chaseokdu nodded vigorously.
“Yeah! Becomes a jinsa, right?”
“Yes.”
“That's his spot.”
“...”
The smile faded from Chaseokdu's lips.
“What happens when such a kid goes to Beijing? Glory and riches?”
“...”
Tough. Passing exams from a poor background was impressive, but it meant no connections. A good academy might offer some ties. Dragons from ditches get dragged down by hangers-on and rivals who clip their wings. At best, they rule the ditch.
Chaseokdu nodded lightly, reading Damak's face.
“Jin Sowoon's the same. Bound to feel lonely.”
Ditch folk admire the dragon, but the dragon despairs at not soaring the skies.
“His name echoes the land, but deep down, bone-chilling loneliness. The Nine Great Sects, Five Great Families, 12 Bongseong of the 108 Peaks—they're intrigue masters rivaling Beijing nobles, plus personal martial might.”
Thinking on it, the jianghu was harsher than Beijing. There, it was power struggles under the emperor; here, raw force ruled.
Damak realized anew the terrifying world he'd stepped into.
Chaseokdu glanced toward Jin Sowoon's hall and continued.
“Must've been lonely. Knows his path ahead will be too.”
Then his eyes shifted to Damak.
“That's why you caught his eye—you, alone in a strange world plotting revenge. Couldn't look away.”
Damak's face flushed hot. He felt Jin Sowoon's heart anew. Faces of old academy rivals surfaced.
“Even though... I'm the enemy?”
Seeing Damak's red cheeks, Chaseokdu smiled unwittingly.
“Politics says so, but jianghu's the same. No eternal allies or enemies. So while we're allies, he wanted to cherish you. Even knowing it'd put him in a bind.”
“...A bind?”
“Orthodox saint risks life saving Black Dao's top strategist? Inspection Hall and Execution Hall won't sit idle. They'll grab any pretext.”
“...”
Come to think of it, he'd heard the delegation head was Inspection Hall's Third Division Head—a vicious sort even Black Dao gritted teeth over.
...Worry for Jin Sowoon crept in.
“He'll be okay?”
Chaseokdu laughed at Damak's question.
“Worried for your new friend?”
“Wh-what friend... Just hate owing debts.”
“He'll handle it. If Alliance pressure drives him to join us, not bad either.”
Chaseokdu boomed with laughter before adding,
“Anyway, repaying the debt lightens our load. Kid was pissed enough already.”
“Pardon?”
Chaseokdu shook his head wearily.
“Came demanding payment for saving you, cursing up a storm. How's a near-dead guy so energetic?”
Damak ventured carefully,
“How far do you plan to go?”
“He wants alliance, but I already refused... Backtracking's laughable, right?”
“Indeed. Best avoid seeming unsteady.”
Basics of kingcraft. Crowds hate wobbly thrones.
Chaseokdu nodded and asked Damak,
“Our reports have some Orthodox goodies, yeah?”
Forming the Four Black Alliances required entry fees from major factions. Stingy Black Dao sects paid with useless (to them) but valuable Orthodox antiques or martial manuals.
Ridiculous at the time, but now it shone.
“Send a few as goodwill?”
“Symbolic enough.”
“Yeah. Good stuff might soften his scolding too. You handle picking?”
Damak pondered, then bowed his head.
“...Yes. I'll find suitable ones.”
Damak spoke plainly, but Chaseokdu knew—he was already scheming hard. To protect an Orthodox friend from crisis.
I was in deep shit right now.
“Wh-what brings you here?”
A massive crisis, even.
I'd avoided being alone with Ak Byeongbi as much as possible. No excuses for meddling in Four Black Alliances business.
Tracking hidden enemies was one thing, but risking my life for Damak? Even I knew that crossed a line.
So I'd pressured Chaseokdu for alliance, but the bastard wouldn't budge. Now the deed was done.
'I'm the sucker.'
Long-term, saving Damak was right, but short-term? Convincing Ak Byeongbi and Maeng Ju-won's guards was the real headache. Saving Black Dao's strategist? Way over the line.
I'd dodged face-time till returning to the academy, but Ak Byeongbi forced it.
How to slip this...
“Aigoo, my body's killing me. Mind if I head out first? Kinda beat.”
As I half-stood awkwardly,
Ak Byeongbi's eyes sharpened.
“Planning to join the Black Dao?”
My body froze. Brow furrowed tight.
“Pardon?”
What the hell was this guy on about?