Omen of the Prologue - 2
To repel the Iron Blood Dan's assault—and to make certain that not a single soul at Hongseong Gate died—there was a great deal to be done. That held true for me, and no less for Hongseong Gate itself. Hadn't we all been rushing about for exactly that purpose?
Of course, I wasn't worried that Hongseong Gate would fumble its part. And why would I be? Unlike the days when the sect had been gasping from a lack of operating funds and Hong Ryeon had to run herself ragged, today's Hongseong Gate had room to breathe—which meant far less room for mistakes.
I reread the letter, double-checking the tasks I'd assigned Hongseong Gate for any errors, then summoned a Courier Gate disciple. After handing over the purchase order bound for the Cheonghoe Merchant Group, along with the letter and box of silver for Sa Yun, I headed straight for the magistrate's office.
Even with the moon riding high, soldiers thronged the government office.
"Oh! Welcome, sir."
One of the officers, his face familiar to me by now, struck up a conversation with a smile. Perhaps because of the request I'd made before? The magistrate had taken to leading the men out for training in person more and more often. And it wasn't only that.
"Your ranks have grown, I see."
"Haha. Yes, sir. You did such fine work investigating the Demonic Cult for us, remember? The central command decided another attack might come and dispatched additional troops."
Their numbers had swelled to roughly three times their former strength, and the newcomers—elites raised specifically to counter the Demonic Cult—looked impressive in equipment, morale, and skill alike.
"You all have it hard. Is the Magistrate inside?"
"Hm? Ah—yes. Shall I fetch him for you?"
"No need. I'll show myself in. And since this training must be wearing on you all, I'll have a few of my pigs sent over."
"Aigoo, sir, all we ever do is eat off your kindness..."
"Hahaha, it's nothing. Well then—keep up the good work, all of you."
I gave the sheepish officer's shoulder a couple of friendly pats and headed inside. Perhaps because I'd been visiting the office so often lately, several of the clerks greeted me with smiles.
"Ah, welcome."
He'd donned even his armor—apparently he'd been joining the drills himself. Back when we drank together, he'd held forth at length about how, before his posting here as magistrate, he'd served in the army fighting the Demonic Cult and demonic beasts. Seeing him kitted out like that, I had to admit he cut a fine figure.
As I entered, the magistrate pulled off his helmet, and I greeted him with a smile.
"With you so busy, I fear I've come at a bad time."
"What's this, such disheartening talk? Come, have a seat."
The magistrate brewed the tea himself. I sipped at it while we caught up on each other's doings, then eased into the real matter.
"Are you aware that the Cheonghoe Merchant Group has unveiled new equipment?"
"Hm? Ah, yes, I've heard."
"I'm planning to bring some in myself... and with your permission, I'd like to supply it to the office."
"Oh, that suits me fine. What price did you have in mind?"
"Here..."
When I showed him the figure I'd settled on, the magistrate pondered a moment, then nodded. The price was reasonable enough on its own merits, and knowing what he did about the Cheonghoe Merchant Group, he had little cause to quibble. Had there been another trading house in the village, or had some other guild come calling, things might have been different—but there wasn't. And besides, an arm bends inward; one favors one's own. After all the meals I'd plied him with to build our friendship, we were hardly strangers.
"This office owes you more favors than I can count, Innkeeper Yu, and I see nothing here to take issue with... Shall I stamp it now?"
"I'd be much obliged if you would."
The magistrate pressed his seal with a smile—then flashed me a sly grin.
"By the by, Innkeeper. Are you aware the unorthodox sects have been stirring of late?"
"Stirring how?"
"Word has it sell-swords are on the move not far from here. What they've set their sights on, I can't say... but in the worst case, they might strike this very place. Still, don't you worry. If we were short of troops, perhaps—but with a garrison like this, I've no intention of playing the blind man."
To be sure, the newly reinforced troops were meant for a war against the Demonic Cult. But with the magistrate at their head, how they were used was his call to make.
"Which brings me to a favor. Might the payment for this delivery wait a while? I'd like to settle it once the autumn harvest is in."
"Ah, of course. We finished the barley harvest a while back, so there's some spare money on hand."
"Well, that is a relief!"
An army burns money simply by existing. And these latest arrivals were soldiers sent without warning, to meet the extraordinary threat of the Demonic Cult. Sturdy men who fought well also ate and drank more than most, and covering those costs from the office's own purse would be no small strain. The higher-ups, for their part, would only snap that they'd sent troops and the office had its reserves—what more could he possibly want? If paying those costs left him short and my payment slipped a little, that was no trouble at all.
"And one more thing... might you put in a request to Hongseong Gate for me?"
History offered no shortage of sell-swords turning to banditry. For that reason, government offices calling on martial artists for aid against their enemies was anything but rare. The magistrate knew of my ties to Hongseong Gate, and so meant to make the request through me. Send a few masters, should things come to a head.
"I'll make inquiries. Though... if what they're after is Hongseong Gate itself..."
I let the words trail off, and the magistrate threw back his head and laughed.
"Hahahaha!! Hongseong Gate has even been running patrols for Seomhwachon's peace and order of late—I can hardly wash my mouth of that debt. If it comes to that, I'll bar their way myself."
"Thank you."
"No, no—the thanks are mine."
What was he saying? I was the one who owed the thanks. With this, one more piece was set in place for holding Hongseong Gate and striking back at the Iron Blood Dan. All the effort I'd poured into cultivating the magistrate's friendship was proving its worth.
A few days passed after I sent the order for the new products to the Cheonghoe Merchant Group. Just in case, I had people combing the land outside the village every day, and I'd also sent Chae Jin out to scout the surroundings. She grumbled the whole while—she was meant to be at my side as my bodyguard, after all—but when I pressed her earnestly enough, she relented.
So today, too, I saw her off and was going about my usual work when Jeomsoi called me down. When I went below, several carts flying a familiar flag stood before the inn.
"Ah, Master Yu!"
"Good day to you."
It was the Cheonghoe Merchant Group's cart, laden with the goods I'd ordered not long ago. And the men who had hauled it all this way were none other than Gi Cha-jo, a master bearing the epithet Thousand-Li Solitary Walk, and Wi Yeol, the taciturn but thoroughly dependable expert known as the Flashing Spear of Seomhwa. That two masters under Cheon Il-hwa's command had come all this way in person left me with no choice but to be surprised.
"What brings you both here in person?"
"Haha. We only do as we're told. The Guild Leader says deliver this and check the feedback with my own eyes—who am I to refuse?"
At his roguish grin, I waved a hand at Jeomsoi, who darted inside and returned with cold water.
"You've had a long road."
"Ahh... that hits the spot. Wi Yeol, you drink too—clamping your jaw shut the whole way must have been stifling. Anyway, that being the case—might we impose on your inn for a few days?"
Fine by me. The moment I nodded with a smile, Gi Cha-jo drew close and dropped his voice.
"I hear tell things around here have been unsettled of late. Last time, the Demonic Cult came hunting Seomhwachon and Hongseong Gate, no?"
"They did."
"Fail once and still refuse to give up—that's the nature of those detestable Demonic Cult bastards. In preparation for that, the Guild Leader ordered us to stay here a while. Consider it our thanks for the last affair, too. I'd rather it all blow over quietly, but if it doesn't—well, then I'll simply have to lend my strength, won't I?"
Oh... so the seeds I'd sown with the Cheonghoe Merchant Group had borne fruit. Gi Cha-jo and Wi Yeol were martial artists more than strong enough that even if a battle broke out, they could handle it. I'd been planning to ask Cheon Il-hwa to send one of the two on those very grounds—and here he'd sent both.
"I'll have rooms made ready. Everyone! Show our honored guests in!"
"Hahaha. Then we'll gladly be in your care."
Gi Cha-jo chuckled while Wi Yeol offered a slight bow, and the two went inside. Only after watching them enter did the servants emerge from the store, bustling to move the goods into the warehouse.
Then a clear voice sounded behind me.
"Need a hand?"
"Hm?"
I turned to find a beauty whose burning red hair caught the eye first. A long training robe that fell to her wrists, and short trousers that left her thighs bare. It was Hong Ryeon, dressed in the Hongseong Gate uniform I knew so well.
Come to think of it, hadn't Hong Ryeon taken over the patrols? These past few days the patrol had been nothing but soldiers, and I'd wondered why she hadn't come. I looked at her steadily, and she slipped her gaze aside.
"Ahem. I needed time to sort out... a few things I'd come to realize, in my own way. I informed the magistrate's office separately."
"I see."
"I'm more or less finished sorting, so from today I intend to handle the patrols myself..."
"Is that so. Is something the matter, though? You seem a bit... unsettled."
She'd been fidgeting this whole time, and something about her seemed off. Had something happened? The moment I stepped toward her, she scrambled back a pace.
"What?! No?! There's nothing wrong at all?!"
Color rose faintly in her cheeks as she blurted it out. The way she kept sneaking glances aside said she was rather embarrassed by her own flustered state. Pressing the point would only mortify her further. Better to play dumb.
"Anyway—you said you'd help? Don't you have a patrol?"
"I set out early, so..."
True enough—she had time to spare before her patrol. Hong Ryeon rolled up her sleeves and took up a crate with practiced ease. That's a martial artist for you. Even on those slender, straight arms, she ferried several crates at a time as though they weighed nothing.
"Where do you want these?"
"Follow me."
I picked up a crate myself—a poor showing next to Hong Ryeon, who carried stacks in both hands. In the pitch-dark storeroom at the back of the inn, she set her crates down where I'd pointed.
"So what is all this?"
"Nothing much. Ah—actually, there's something I'd like to propose. Could you wait a little? There's somewhere I need to be; I'll explain when I'm back."
"Where are you going?"
She swallowed—gulp—looking a touch nervous. I answered offhandedly:
"The magistrate's office."
She could have simply waited, but Hong Ryeon came along. It was no bother, so we pulled the cart together to the government office. Loaded in that cart were the new products—the fresh equipment made by the Cheonghoe Merchant Group.
The magistrate came out to inspect the goods and nodded, satisfied.
"Fine work. I'll pay as promised—later."
"I'm much obliged."
Soldiers began unloading the crates from the cart. Once it stood empty, I turned to Hong Ryeon, who had been watching from behind.
"Care to ride?"
No sense walking when there was no need. As I climbed onto the driver's bench, she hesitated a moment, then hopped up lightly. And settled, quite naturally, into the seat beside me.
There was a whole cart bed behind us, though?
"What, you mind?"
"No. It's fine, I suppose."
The moment she sat beside me, a lovely fragrance tickled the tip of my nose. Had she put on perfume? I stole a glance at Hong Ryeon—and our eyes met.
"...What?"
"Nothing. You smell lovely, that's all."
"Ah. I was making sachets before I came."
She'd been drying flowers and condensing their scent for the sachets, and it had soaked right into her. But it was richer, lovelier than the Thousand-Day Plum Blossom fragrance I remembered...
"S-stop sniffing! It's embarrassing for me too, you know."
"My apologies."
Neither of us spoke after that. It wasn't as though either of us had anything particular to say. Back at the inn, I led her inside. There was still time before her patrol.
"So? This proposal of yours?"
"I'd like Hongseong Gate to start using this."
I drew out one of the Cheonghoe Merchant Group's new products from earlier. Inside the box sat a small jar, which I held out to her. Head tilted, she broke the seal. Within were small pills clumped together in a brown mass.
"They're called Fasting Pills."
Fasting Pills! A single one was enough to fill the belly!
"It's a new product of the Cheonghoe Merchant Group. They've asked us to try it and send back our impressions. So, here's the thing." I extended the jar. "I'd like Hongseong Gate to test them and report back. Fair warning—the taste leaves much to be desired. Bear with it."
One of the great reasons Hongseong Gate fell to the Iron Blood Dan was that no one realized their provisions had been contaminated—by a colorless, odorless poison that took effect only once time had passed. The culprit was a woman named Go Yu-mi, the Gentleman of the Beam, one of the Iron Blood Dan's officers.
Weak in every other martial art, she had instead mastered the Stepless Divine Steps, a stealth technique subtle enough to slip even into the Forbidden Quarter where no man may tread. For her, poisoning a granary would have been no challenge at all. And the disciples who cooked and ate from those stores, never suspecting contamination—it was, in a sense, only inevitable that they were poisoned.
In the end, that foul trick left a great many of Hongseong Gate's disciples poisoned, and the Sword Saint—fighting all the while—burned through a tremendous reserve of inner power absorbing and neutralizing their venom. Unable to withstand the toxic qi herself, she too succumbed. For a woman in such a state to fall beneath the Iron Blood Dan's onslaught was, perhaps, beyond helping.
Seen one way, it was a clumsy scheme; seen another, a meticulously crafted one. But so long as I stood here, it was nothing more than a plan begging to be turned against its makers.
Either way, to keep that scenario from ever unfolding, it would be safest for them to replace their meals with Fasting Pills for the time being. By the collective wisdom of the community back in the day, this method had ranked among the better countermeasures. If there's no bread, one eats pastry, as the saying goes—so if eating rice meant poison, one simply ate Fasting Pills instead!!
Hahaha!
"Incredible. Just one of these fills you up?"
"They're made from a blend of medicinal herbs, grains, honey, and a number of other things—more filling than you'd expect."
The truth was, I'd been planning to make Fasting Pills myself; I simply hadn't known the Cheonghoe Merchant Group could already produce them. But who made them hardly mattered. What mattered was that they existed—and that we could put them to use.
"How long do we have to eat them?"
Hong Ryeon sniffed at the pills in the jar and cocked her head. I smiled.
"At least a month. The taste being what it is, you'll all suffer a little... but when it's over, I'll see to it you're fed properly."
Hong Ryeon studied the pills a moment longer, then chewed one down and tilted her head.
"It tastes fine, though?"
"Sure it does."
I chewed one down myself, and a subtle flavor spread through my mouth—not quite unbearable, but of the sort that left one wondering why anyone would eat this willingly. First came sourness. Then a sharp, biting bitterness, and threading through both a faint, discordant heat. A whisper of sweetness lingered at the end, with a greasy film settling over it—and then, smothering everything, a fishy tang prickled the tongue. What in the world...?
How on earth did they manage to make a Fasting Pill taste like this? It was precisely the flavor Cheonsang Myeongwol had described with those very words: beyond description. And she said this was fine?
"The girls will like it too."
"...This?"
She'd happily munched on Dang-gwa sweets, cleaned her plate when I treated her to a meal the other day, and enjoyed my cooking besides—surely her palate itself wasn't broken? At my astonishment, she answered as if it were nothing.
"Back when we had nothing, we ate far worse than this."
Oh. Ohh... so her threshold was simply high, that was all... Once all this was over, I'd have to feed her something truly delicious.