Player Substitution
In a secluded, shaded corner of the outdoor grounds belonging to the Second Young Master's faction of the Luoyang Sword Family, strategists smoked their tobacco and muttered among themselves.
"So in the end, this is the result of a conference that every elder serving our lord gathered to produce?"
The strategist across from him cast a quick glance left and right. Only after confirming that the men clustered there, puffing thick clouds of smoke, all belonged to the same faction did he open his mouth.
"…In the end, that's exactly what it is. It's also true that our Gangnam Division, led by Elder Son, has failed to produce results until now."
An older strategist from Gangnam spat onto the ground.
"The response team against the First Young Master was only put together recently to begin with. And the team against the Fourth Young Master never received any real support from the start. Yet now they want to pin the blame on our Gangnam faction?"
A young strategist, still clumsy with his tobacco, glanced around nervously before inserting himself into the conversation.
"But was the Second Young Master's—no, our lord's—camp split into a 'Luoyang faction' and a 'Gangnam faction' from the very beginning?"
The others snorted with laughter.
"From the beginning, my ass."
"A few years ago there wasn't even such a thing as a Luoyang faction."
The young strategist's eyes went wide.
"It didn't exist?"
"Where do you think our lord's mother, Grand Madam Guyang, comes from? She's from Sapaecheon—the alliance that holds the four Gangnam provinces of Jiangsu, Zhejiang, Fujian, and Guangdong under its influence, isn't she?"
"She's the daughter of the Alliance Lord of Sapaecheon. Of course our lord's forces were originally made up of people from Gangnam like us."
Everyone nodded.
"Well, truth be told, back then it was more accurate to call it Grand Madam Guyang's power base rather than our lord's."
"That was when our lord was still a child, after all."
The young strategist who had been listening asked,
"Then how did the camp end up torn into two like it is now?"
The old strategist unfurled a fan.
"As our lord grew into adulthood and his brilliance only increased day by day, people were drawn by his character and virtue—"
The other strategists waved their hands frantically to shut him up.
"Stop spouting nonsense and just finish your tobacco."
"Ability, maybe—but what character and virtue…"
While they were all giving the old man warning looks, one of the strategists kindly explained to the young one.
"It's not complicated. The position of Young Family Head stayed vacant for a long time, and the heirs grew older. In the end, elders from Luoyang who decided our lord had a high chance of becoming the next Young Family Head simply joined up."
And so, quite naturally, factions had formed.
"…I see."
The young strategist scratched his head and brought out a new question.
"Then why did the Luoyang faction, which came later, grow strong enough to rival our original faction?"
The strategists who had been answering him all this time exploded.
"If you're a strategist, use your head for once!"
"Where is this family located right now? Is this family sitting in the Imperial Capital or something?"
The young strategist slapped his own forehead.
"Ah—Luoyang…!"
"Exactly. Luoyang. The Luoyang Sword Family is in Luoyang, so of course the Luoyang faction's power swelled that quickly."
Just then, a strategist came running from a distance, gasping for breath.
"Everyone to the Grand Conference Hall…!"
"Everyone, good to see you!"
The old man who boomed out the greeting in a voice that shook the rafters had the splendid physique of a true martial bone, as befit a scion of a general's house.
The strategists filling the Grand Conference Hall exchanged cautious glances as they returned the greeting.
"…It's good to see you."
"Haha! Look at all that energy—what a fine sight!"
The old man's face was flushed a deep red, as if he had already downed a few cups of midday wine.
"Right then. Looking forward to working with you! As you all know, you can just call this old man Elder Hahu!"
Elder Hahu let out a hearty, booming laugh.
Of course, in an atmosphere like this, no one was deranged enough to force a smile along with him.
Whether they did or not, Elder Hahu laughed as much as he pleased before finally getting to the point.
"I imagine quite a few comrades here find it strange to see this elder standing up front like this."
He swept his smiling gaze across the strategists assembled before him.
"Every single one of you gathered here today is essential personnel, excluding only those assigned to the Third Young Master response team. You're all one family, sweating under the same lord. Yes, that's right—one family!"
He nodded along in agreement with his own words, then laughed again.
"Therefore, none of you need to worry about personnel disadvantages over the question of where you come from! That's what I'm saying!"
He shouted at the assembly in his unrestrained manner.
"To begin with, this decision itself is not a punitive appointment! It's nothing more than a personnel change meant to deploy a response better suited to the current situation!"
He thumped his thick chest.
"Do you not trust the words of this Elder Hahu?!"
A few scattered answers came, but none of them from the Gangnam Division.
At this point even the thickest-skinned man ought to have felt awkward, yet Elder Hahu did not care in the slightest.
"That's right! Of course! Every last one of you is an outstanding strategist and a brilliant schemer. If a few words like these were enough to win you over, that itself would make no sense, now would it?"
"…."
Then he stepped down from the platform and plopped himself onto the floor.
"Well, I understand how you Gangnam comrades feel. Truth is, if a few pretty words about unity and the like could solve this, we never would have reached this point in the first place."
He pulled out one of his specially thick Luzon cigars, stuck it between his teeth, and lit it.
"Mmm, fine taste."
Dense smoke rose in thick curls from the fat cigar.
"Still…"
He shot to his feet.
Then he grabbed the nearest Gangnam strategist by the collar and hoisted him clean off the ground.
"You. You think I'm a joke?"
"Y-yes?! N-no, sir!"
"Just now—was that a yes or a no?"
"No, sir! I do not think you're a joke!"
Elder Hahu flung him back into his seat.
Then he roared,
"Then why is everyone answering like they think people are a joke?!"
His thunderous voice filled the hall.
"Do all of you find my words that worthless?"
The strategists who had been sunk deep into their chairs hastily straightened their backs and answered.
"No, sir!"
Elder Hahu's expression shifted and he burst into laughter again.
"Haha! Look at all that energy—what a fine sight!"
Those were the same words he had spoken right after his opening greeting.
"Ha, haha, hahahaha…"
The difference was that, unlike the first time when no one had even managed a proper reply, now everyone forced themselves to laugh along.
"I have something I want to say to my Gangnam comrades."
Elder Hahu waved the hand holding his cigar through the air.
"Yes. Gangnam land is a wretched place. I know it well. Survive as a wandering strategist in a place like that and you feel like you've tasted every bitter flavor the world has to offer. Probably so."
His eyes burned as he swept the room.
"So. Now that you've come to Luoyang, does this place feel like a land of milk and honey? Does it look easy?"
As if it could.
"No, sir!"
Elder Hahu bit down on his cigar and slowly nodded.
"Right. Here or there, in the end a world where people live is more or less the same. In this pit of hell, you have to thrash and struggle just to manage a breath of air through your nose—that's the same everywhere."
"…."
Confirming that every gaze was now fixed clearly on him, Elder Hahu let out a satisfied laugh.
"If we lose the succession struggle of this vast family, you and I both are dead men all the same!"
He crushed the cigar in his hand into powder.
"If you don't want to die, kill them first! Understood?!"
"Yes! Understood!"
The booming reply that shook the Grand Conference Hall made him laugh heartily.
"Good. Very good."
Nodding, he unfolded the note he had received just before entering the hall and read it.
"Our First Young Master has begun his delightful first official outing."
He shouted to the assembly.
"From now on, no one is to shut themselves away in their own little rooms and rack their brains with only their subordinates!"
He raised a hand and pointed at the floor.
"Everyone will share the same information in this Grand Conference Hall and seek countermeasures together! Understood?!"
"Yes! Understood!"
"Excellent!"
He clapped once, hard, and poured energy into his voice.
"We have only a short time, but we have been given nearly unlimited resources and manpower!"
What strategist in the world would not welcome a situation like this?
Poison and zeal filled every pair of eyes.
"Now then! First we map out the First Young Master's expected route of movement! Then, with the full strength of the entire camp given to us, we smash his plans to pieces! Understood?!"
The answering roar came back thunderously.
The nuns riding in the four-horse armored carriage of Wongak Pavilion could make no sound at all; they could only stare at the scenery rushing past outside.
And the same was true of the deputy chief nun who had, on impulse, secured permission to accompany the First Young Master.
She was kept busy wiping away the cold sweat that kept pouring down her face with the sleeve of her splendid monastic robe.
Why? For what reason?
That was the essence of the question filling the deputy chief nun's mind right now.
Why, and for what reason.
The First Young Master of the Sword Family is clearly hostile to our Emei Sect. So for what possible reason did he allow our nuns to join his procession?
He had even gone so far as to procure an additional carriage just so the large number of them could ride.
This armored carriage made of ebony was a luxury item beyond comparison with the most opulent carriage the Emei Sect possessed—the one the nuns had arrived in.
Even as it raced through the city at high speed, it offered an utterly superb ride.
Every surface that met the hand was covered in violet velvet, and beneath it soft cotton was packed so thickly that the seats were luxuriously plush.
Yet at this very moment, that excellent ride only made the seats feel more like a bed of nails.
She looked out the window.
The noisy, chaotic streets of Luoyang seemed almost unreal as the First Young Master's procession raced without the slightest obstruction along the main avenues.
It could not be otherwise: the city guards of Luoyang had stepped forward and taken control of every intersection and thoroughfare.
At every alley, every crossroads, carriages, carts, and people under control formed a scene of pure pandemonium.
Even in peaceful Sichuan, even if the Tang Clan itself tried something like this, they would be cursed up one side and down the other.
Yet somehow, here in Luoyang, every person simply watched the procession with faces full of curiosity and obedience.
Luoyang is a strange place. The Sword Family is an even stranger place.
And above all, the question that truly unsettled her was something else entirely.
Just where is this procession heading right now?