Path of Life
It was a night black as ink.
A party of people was moving along the highway—carts piled high with cargo, laborers bent under A-frame packs, and lightly armed guards carrying torches and lanterns. By any measure, it looked like one of the small merchant caravans commonly seen on the outskirts of Luoyang.
"Hmm."
A man in shabby clothes fretted with the hand-axe at his hip and sent a voice transmission to the caravan leader.
Do you really think walking the highway with the lights blazing like this is wise?
His fellow martial artists, likewise disguised as caravan guards and laborers, wore uneasy faces.
At this rate the enemy's pursuit is bound to catch us.
The thrill of playing bandits was over. All that remained was to slip the net and vanish completely. That was the final hurdle.
Wouldn't it be better if we simply took the darkness and cut through the forests and mountains...?
Listening quietly to the transmissions, the caravan leader turned in his saddle, looked over the martial artists, and smiled faintly.
"It's already too late, anyway."
Too late? What do you mean by that?
The caravan leader held the reins in one hand and pointed overhead.
"Have none of you noticed the messenger pigeons and falcons circling above us for some time now?"
Only then did the martial artists look up and suppress a collective groan.
"...Hmm."
Perhaps anxiety had narrowed their vision. Only now could they make out several birds flying with a clear sense of purpose, utterly unlike ordinary ones.
...There are so many of them.
That even a brief glance revealed several meant word had already gone out in every direction.
"You all understand now, don't you?"
The caravan leader wore his characteristic good-natured smile.
"No matter what route or method you try to slip away by at this point, they will already be prepared and waiting for you to walk right into their net."
"......."
The martial artists fell silent. It was the uneasy silence that forms naturally when people realize how bad their situation truly is.
"You all look properly grim."
At their reaction the caravan leader laughed heartily.
"Watching those long faces light up after a successful escape—that's the real charm of this profession."
There was something extraordinary in the caravan leader's easy nonchalance.
I joined this caravan as ordered, but...
The hand-axe martial artist broke off the transmission. The caravan leader himself was not even using voice transmission in the first place.
"Just what is the true nature of your merchant group?"
On the surface it looked like an ordinary caravan, yet the leader casually discussed secrets in front of the laborers and escort troops, who paid no attention whatsoever and remained utterly faithful to their roles. Looking closer, there was nothing ordinary about it at all.
"This merchant group's name is Path of Life—the Path of Life Merchant Group."
The caravan leader winked at the martial artists.
"We're a specialist firm that helps people stuck in thoroughly unfortunate situations with nowhere left to turn."
Absurd expressions crossed the martial artists' faces.
"...What a peculiar merchant group."
"I've seen every kind of profession in Luoyang, and while I've encountered individual operators who specialize in helping people escape, this is the first time I've seen an organization doing the work at merchant-group scale."
"Impressive, isn't it?"
At their words the caravan leader laughed heartily once more.
"We were the first to attempt something like this even in the great city of Luoyang. It's something of a point of pride for us. Heh heh."
He continued as if boasting.
"Of course, since we were the first to try it, a great many people still found us unfamiliar, so you could say we had credit problems. Business wasn't as good as we'd hoped, and we nearly went bankrupt."
Words that thoroughly undermined their credibility.
"...Having the caravan leader himself tell that story to the customers doesn't seem great for credibility."
"No, it's fine!"
The caravan leader waved a hand at the hand-axe martial artist's mutter.
"Even if we go under, the only one who takes the fall and ends up on the street is the owner alone."
In fact, in the history before Yeon So-hyeon's regression, they—the Path of Life Merchant Group—had properly gone under once. It was a long time later that the remaining members pooled investment capital again and managed a successful revival.
"......."
The caravan leader laughed alone, as if something were terribly funny.
"Besides, this time we met some kind investors who purchased a majority of the shares, so those people became the new owners of the merchant group, and things have been going very well."
"Ah."
The martial artists now caught on to how the story had gone.
"So Daseonrang were the new owners of this merchant group."
"That's right!"
The caravan leader nodded cheerfully.
"Now that our capital is solid, we no longer have to worry about the employees' wages falling into arrears. Moreover..."
He closed his mouth mid-sentence. He had already noticed that behind Daseonrang stood the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family.
There are things in this world you should pretend to know even if you don't, and things you should pretend not to know even if you do.
Unlike his love of chatter, he well knew there were matters that must not be spoken of.
"Anyway."
He wiped his mouth clean and spoke.
"If we can break through the search net deployed by the Yeon bloodline and the Third Young Master's faction this time, our merchant group's reputation will soar."
He laughed heartily, as if merely imagining it lifted his spirits.
"This Path of Life Merchant Group will become a highly promising firm leading the industry from here on!"
"...I hope it works out well."
As the caravan leader blustered so confidently, the martial artists, though still half-doubtful, seemed to recover a measure of composure.
Good.
At that sight the caravan leader's narrowed eyes gleamed as he smiled. Failing to properly look after anxious clients, allowing them to cause an incident and ruin the job—that was the most common reason for failure in this line of work.
If we continue along the highway, the biggest problem will be the checkpoints.
It's absolutely impossible to force our way through.
The martial artists who had regained their composure exchanged voice transmissions among themselves.
...I suppose we have no choice but to trust this caravan leader.
He seemed infinitely lighthearted, but there was no way their Great Leader would have entrusted them to a merchant group with such a ridiculous name as Path of Life for no reason.
I can see the checkpoint.
At the transmission from the martial artist taking the lead, everyone swallowed dryly.
Primordial Heavenly Venerable...
A short while later.
"There, it's all over."
The martial artists looked at one another with bewildered expressions.
Wh-what?
The hand-axe martial artist looked back. The checkpoint that had felt like an iron wall only moments ago now lay far behind them. The same question rose in every martial artist's mind.
We got through that easily?
The checkpoint guards, who looked several times more numerous than usual, had not even pretended to notice them. The mounted patrols coming and going in haste had ignored them as well.
"From here on is the territory of Henan Province."
The caravan leader, who had been directing that the spoils the martial artists were to take be set aside separately, asked them,
"But why are you all standing around like that?"
The hand-axe martial artist spoke in a dubious tone.
"...Just what kind of sorcery did you use?"
At his words the caravan leader burst into cheerful laughter.
"Sorcery? You're really gilding my face. But this isn't anything like witchcraft."
He smiled faintly as he spoke.
"No matter how much pressure they apply from above, those below have their own circumstances."
He made a circle with his fingers and waved it—a common gesture meaning money.
"Whether they reinforce the troops two times over or ten times over, as long as it's work done by people, there are bound to be desperate men among them."
The caravan leader winked at the speechless martial artists.
"Rather than searching for some ingenious way to slip out of a vast encirclement, finding a hole among people like this is far simpler."
"......."
For a moment the martial artists could even sense profound insight in his words.
"...I could tell you were someone who hid the extraordinary within lightness, but you're remarkable."
An aging martial artist asked the caravan leader,
"You seem far too remarkable a person to be a mere caravan leader. Might I ask what you originally did?"
"Oh, nothing much."
The caravan leader waved a hand.
"I'm just a fool who tried to run a business and nearly lost everything."
"...You were the owner of this merchant group?"
"I'm only the former owner now."
The caravan leader—no, the former representative of the Path of Life Merchant Group—wore a sheepish smile as if embarrassed.
"If I want to earn my keep, shouldn't I at least work as a caravan leader out in the field?"
When something like pity began to enter the martial artists' gazes, he hastily waved his hands.
"Now, now. We've already distributed all the loads, so don't make a man feel pitiful—hurry up and be on your way."
The caravan laborers had prepared a backpack for each martial artist.
"Inside the packs, the 'valuables' have been distributed according to the instructions you received in advance, and you'll also find your new identity plaques and maps marking destinations for each of you."
"Destinations for each of us, you said?"
The former representative of the Path of Life Merchant Group shrugged.
"We've broken through the search net, but individual tracking specialists may still latch onto you."
Naturally, it meant they would have to split up and go their separate ways.
"I haven't examined each of your maps one by one, but you'll probably have to scatter across every corner of the Central Plains, so say your farewells now."
"...I see."
The martial artists looked at one another. Moments of parting always arrived so suddenly.
Chief Maid Jeong-a watched Yeon So-hyeon processing reports beneath the lamplight.
Since the Wongak Pavilion administrative wing had begun operating, Yeon So-hyeon's burden of paperwork had been greatly reduced. Even so, final approval always had to come from Yeon So-hyeon himself.
"Master."
"Hm?"
Though Yeon So-hyeon did not take his eyes from the documents, Jeong-a asked what she was curious about.
"If I may dare ask, what work will the Spring of Luoyang martial artists who have completely escaped go on to do?"
"Did I not say that as chief maid, you may ask any question you like?"
"...I am humbled."
Yeon So-hyeon carefully reviewed the approval documents, stamped them, and occasionally lifted his brush to make corrections to the content, all while answering Jeong-a's question at the same time. It was a sight others would find incomprehensible, but to Jeong-a it was a familiar ability of Yeon So-hyeon's.
"From now on, they will become our foundation outside Luoyang."
"......!"
Yeon So-hyeon, who had begun forming a power base within Luoyang, was already aiming for the next step. Jeong-a, who had worn a startled expression for a moment, carefully asked,
"...No matter how abundant the funds recovered from the Yeon bloodline may be, will it be possible with them alone?"
"Of course it's impossible with them alone."
"Then...?"
Yeon So-hyeon smiled as he looked at the documents.
"But they are not alone."
Yeon So-hyeon stamped the final document.
"And the martial artists are merely those who will handle the martial aspect. They will be the secondary, not the primary."
Yeon So-hyeon pushed the finished documents to one side and looked at Jeong-a.
"As you know, I sent two of the Daseonrang out."
He pointed to the documents he had just finished processing.
"Just now I selected experienced personnel from the administrative wing and issued orders for them to join up in each region."
Even now, Yeon So-hyeon's administrative wing was growing busier by the day with people gathering who harbored great ambitions.
"We'll have to continue dispatching personnel going forward."
"Ah...!"
"And decisively..."
Yeon So-hyeon smiled as he looked at Jeong-a.
"The devotees of the Fairy Cult throughout the Central Plains will cooperate with them with all their strength."
His smile deepened in the lamplight.
"The renovation of Luoyang's House of Compassion, centered on the Fairy Cult's main temple, is now entering its final stages. From here on, shouldn't the House of Compassion establish its influence across the entire Central Plains?"
For a moment Jeong-a's head spun at the sheer scale of what he was saying.
"...It may be presumptuous of me to say this."
She swallowed dryly and asked Yeon So-hyeon,
"I wonder whether securing influence across the entire Central Plains is possible with that alone."
Yeon So-hyeon answered at once.
"It will certainly be difficult."
He raised a hand to point at his own head.
"But what do you think would happen if I not only exercise strategy, but also know everything that will unfold in the future?"
Far in the east, the sky was growing bright.
At the waist of the figure walking alone toward the east dangled a hand-axe.
...What a strange feeling.
Carrying a backpack containing a portion of the spoils and disguised as an ordinary peddler, the martial artist raised a hand to shield his face. It was because of the intense sunlight of the rising sun.
At first we were trapped at the stadium construction site and ready to die to the last man.
Then they were rescued by the First Young Master of the Luoyang Sword Family and came to serve him as their Great Leader, then made a great escape through the Great Waterway. And in the next moment they had plundered the hidden assets of the Yeon bloodline, and now he was walking endlessly eastward.
They say never knowing what the next moment holds is the charm of life...
His current situation was exactly like that. Having parted from those reliable comrades and having to set out alone on the road, he ought to have felt anxiety. Yet somehow his steps were only light. Was it because of the almost miraculous events he had experienced of late?
No. This is all because of the existence of our Great Leader.
To think he would end up serving a boy who had not even reached the age of weak crown as Great Leader. Something he could never have imagined. But now the existence of that Great Leader, a mere seventeen years old, felt as reliable as the sun rising before him today.
All right, let's go.
What would be waiting for him next. His chest swelled for no reason.