Dropped into Murim with an Instant-Kill Skill - Chapter 150

WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR

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Chapter 150: The Rear Waves of the Yangtze Push the Front Waves (24)

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At the top floor of Yueyang Tower, Yeon Sowol explained everything.

The discovery of the jiangshi.

Moyong Ha's diary.

The documents the water raiders had carried.

Yi Geuk's open admission that he had been colluding with Yang Hoeam.

What the fallen Daoist had told him about Yang Hoeam and the Elder.

Even the signs of human sacrifice.

Everything.

"......"

When he finished, Yeon Sowol fell silent.

His heart pounded.

He knew, of course, that it was hard to believe.

Everything was clear to him because he had experienced it firsthand, but everyone else had only heard his account. Yang Hoeam was famous as an upright, incorruptible official. Could a man like that truly commit such vile acts?

Of course it sounded absurd.

Even so, Yeon Sowol told them everything without holding anything back.

'But Sowol, think this through. If we tell them everything and even one person betrays us, Yang Hoeam could learn our whole plan.'

Jin Geol had said that.

He was right.

Even so.

Yeon Sowol thought of the people who had already risked their lives for him.

Wasn't this the moment he had to ask them to risk their lives once more? The moment he had to ask them to trust him completely?

And yet he would hide the truth from them?

Because he did not trust them?

That was not right.

If there was a price to pay for this, he would bear it alone.

That was why he had trained in martial arts all this time.

Why he had risked his life so many times.

That was how Yeon Sowol finished telling his story.

The mood in the room was strange.

Some blinked.

Some looked around.

Some tilted their heads.

A long silence followed. Yeon Sowol could not read the expressions of the White-Robed League members.

He could only swallow dryly.

At last, someone spoke.

Among the White-Robed League, where people in their twenties vastly outnumbered everyone else, he was a respected martial artist in his mid-thirties. At some point, he had become the one who spoke for the others.

His tone was calm and empty of emotion.

"So you're saying that Yang Hoeam, the provincial governor of Yuezhou, has joined hands with Demonic Path forces and is preparing a human sacrifice for Mid-Autumn Festival?"

"Yes."

"And the White-Robed League must force its way past the troops guarding Dongting Lake like an iron fortress, destroy the formation array, and expose the site of the human sacrifice to everyone."

"I hope you'll join me."

"That would mean directly opposing the authorities. If things go wrong, we could be accused of treason, and even our families and relatives back home could be exterminated."

He was merely laying out the facts in an even voice.

Still, Yeon Sowol felt his head growing heavier by the moment.

"......Yes."

"To avoid that, we must reveal Provincial Governor Yang Hoeam's crimes to everyone. Yet much of the evidence you mentioned is not objective physical proof. It rests only on your own memories and testimony, Leader."

"......That's true."

"Then we're being asked to stake our lives on Leader alone. No, perhaps even the lives of our families and relatives back home."

"......"

"Even if everything is exactly as you say, if the provincial governor issues a curfew order and the people of Yuezhou cannot witness the exposed site themselves, then we'll be left in danger despite acting for righteousness."

"......That's right."

"It's an enormous burden. Enough to make even a decent hero shake his head."

"......Yes."

As he forced out his answers, Yeon Sowol had to struggle not to lower his head.

He was the one making a shameless request.

But he had a clear reason to make it.

Then he could not let them see him appear ashamed.

I did not make this unreasonable request because I took you lightly. I saw it with my own eyes. I know the truth, and I spoke because I believed in you.

One hero had simply conveyed his resolve to other heroes.

Whatever choice they made, he would accept it and bear the responsibility.

So he would not lower his head.

Before the truth and before them, he had nothing to be ashamed of.

The man briefly looked behind him, exchanging glances with the White-Robed League members. Once again, Yeon Sowol could not read what those looks meant.

The man turned back to him.

"Then should I understand that, in the end, you're asking us to trust you? If you succeed, everyone will live happily. If you fail, everyone will die miserably."

Before those weighty words, Yeon Sowol answered.

This time, without hesitation.

"Yes."

The man cupped his fist.

He did not hesitate either.

"At your command."

"......What?"

Yeon Sowol had repeated to himself that he needed to stand proud, but even he was caught off guard.

Then,

Clack!

Clack! Clack! Clack! Clack!

Every White-Robed League member on the top floor of Yueyang Tower, without a single exception, cupped their fists toward Yeon Sowol and shouted.

"At your command!"

Yeon Sowol's eyes widened.

He was not the only one. Jin Geol, Won Huiseung, Ha Jeop, and So Hye, who had come upstairs with him and watched the situation tensely, all stared with wide eyes. They had gone stiff as though struck by lightning.

The man in his mid-thirties, standing at the front, spoke for them once more.

A faint smile touched his face.

"At least once."

Yeon Sowol looked at him.

The man casually placed a hand on the hilt at his waist.

"At least once, I wanted to be someone who could bear a burden like this. Isn't that why we learned martial arts?"

The instant he finished,

Tap!

Tap, tap, tap!

Every White-Robed League member placed a hand on the hilt at their waist.

At that moment, a wind blew across Dongting Lake and set their white robes fluttering.

"......"

Looking at those white waves, Yeon Sowol made a vow.

'We'll fight. We'll win. And every last one of us will return together.'

They had willingly risked their lives for him.

Now the responsibility for that rested on his shoulders.

Yeon Sowol swallowed the words threatening to burst from him.

Instead, he took in each person standing before the blue expanse of Dongting Lake. Slowly, he raised his hand and placed it on his sword hilt.

Tap.

The white waves rolled.

* * *

Bundles of white papers were scattered all across Yuezhou.

At the very top of each sheet were the words:

It contained an eloquent message, drafted by Yeon Sowol and polished by Gaseopmyeong.

First, it warned that Yang Hoeam would issue a travel ban and curfew order on Mid-Autumn Festival.

Then:

[The Great Way Has No Gate]

The great way has no gate.

The original meaning of the saying was, "How could true principle have a narrow gate?" It was a Buddhist teaching that there were countless paths to the truth.

In Korea, though, a former president had altered its meaning slightly. He had used it as though it meant there were no obstacles on the great road, so he would bulldoze ahead as he pleased.

That altered meaning flowed from Yeon Sowol through Gaseopmyeong's brush.

[Where Righteousness Leads]

[Who Would Dare Set a Gate to Bar Its Way]

On Mid-Autumn Festival, a terrible truth lay within Dongting Lake.

Everyone had to see it.

Even if that meant defying Provincial Governor Yang Hoeam's orders.

[All Are Drunk]

The whole world was drunk.

[May You Alone Remain Awake]

Please, remain awake alone!

It twisted Qu Yuan's verse into an appeal.

[Dare to Know]

Dare to know.

[Bravely Discern Right from Wrong]

Bravely distinguish righteousness from wickedness.

It was a line from Kant, a symbol of the Enlightenment. Yeon Sowol had read it in a study book as a child, then rendered it in classical Chinese to stir people's hearts.

At the end of the proclamation, written with such aching sincerity, was a handprint made by coating a palm in ink.

Yeon Sowol's handprint.

Everyone who could read held a proclamation in their hands, their eyes widening and breaths quickening.

Those who could not read saw their reactions and anxiously asked,

"Hey, what's going on?"

Once the literate people read the contents aloud, those who could not read crowded around to listen. They stamped their feet and beat their chests.

"Great Hero Yeon's openly defying the provincial governor?"

"What in the world is happening......?"

They did not know.

Yet their hearts were already racing.

That was when it happened.

"Great Hero Yeon!"

"What in the world is this about?!"

Yeon Sowol suddenly appeared atop a tall roof.

He did not say a word.

He simply took out a piece of red silk. Right there, he soaked his palm in black ink, stamped it onto the cloth, and dropped the red silk down.

"Wh-what?"

"What?"

The startled people caught the red silk and looked back up at the roof, but Yeon Sowol had already vanished.

"It... It matches perfectly!"

The person holding the red silk compared it to the handprint on the proclamation, raising both high into the air.

"Hah......"

"Then Great Hero Yeon really stamped every one of these himself......"

The two palm prints were exactly the same.

* * *

At last, it was Mid-Autumn Festival.

Everything went as expected.

The area around Dongting Lake was deserted under Yang Hoeam's travel ban. With a curfew order in effect, not a single person walked the streets.

The Prefectural Inspectors and Patrol Guards directly under Yang Hoeam's command had blocked every route leading to Dongting Lake.

Mist hung thick over the lake that day.

The closer one came to the water, the damper their clothes became. Even first-rate masters could barely see ahead.

It was the effect of a formation array created jointly by Yang Hoeam and the Demonic Path forces, meant to ensure that no one could see what happened at Dongting Lake until Mid-Autumn Festival was over.

Step.

Step. Step. Step.

Yet a group passed through those empty streets toward Dongting Lake.

Dozens of young masters in fluttering white robes.

"Do you truly intend to go?"

Another group blocked their path.

A man in his fifties, dressed in a black long robe with a black spear slung over his shoulder.

Black Spear Jin Hyeogo.

Behind him stood renowned senior masters of Hunan's martial world.

"......Senior."

Yeon Sowol's eyes shook.

'Even the seniors are stepping forward to block us?'

He had not expected this.

Having learned about the Jianghu under Yi Yubaek, he had unconsciously believed that people of the Jianghu stood on the same side.

But if the seniors blocked their way,

'Can we... break through them...?'

It was not just Jin Hyeogo. Shin Si-ye was there too. And it was not just Shin Si-ye. Yuezhou's Gatekeeper, Jang Gilho, the master of the Silver Hundred Guild, was there as well.

Every one of them was a peak-realm master.

The others were also famous figures of Hunan, people whose names everyone knew.

Even if they somehow forced their way through, the losses would be far too great.

Yeon Sowol clenched his teeth.

'We can't fight here.'

He would persuade them somehow.

He had to persuade them and open the way.

That was his responsibility.

Jin Hyeogo spoke to the determined Yeon Sowol.

"Did I ever tell you? In my youth, I shared ties with the provincial governor. Most of the people gathered here did too."

Jin Hyeogo began telling stories of their younger days, when they had stumbled through trouble as they moved between the authorities and the Jianghu.

"Back then, we were like that. Neither we nor Lord Yang listened to a damned word from those lofty people. Whenever we ended up in danger, we saved one another. Yes, we owe Lord Yang a debt, and Lord Yang owes one to us."

The more Yeon Sowol heard, the tighter his chest became.

Their ties ran far deeper than he had thought.

"This was as far as our Jianghu extended."

Comrades who had once shared a cause.

People from the same hometown who shared memories.

The convictions they had risen up to carve into the Jianghu with swords and blood.

Even Yeon Sowol could understand why the seniors had personally come forward.

'But even so......!'

He had to fulfill his responsibility.

The moment Yeon Sowol stepped forward,

Step.

Their footsteps aligned.

Yeon Sowol took one step forward.

Jin Hyeogo stepped one pace to the side.

"......?"

Yeon Sowol looked at him in confusion.

Jin Hyeogo said,

"Go on."

Step. Step. Step.

He walked fully aside, clearing the path.

The seniors behind him followed, moving out of the way as well.

Caught off guard by the unexpected turn of events, Yeon Sowol stood there blankly.

Jin Hyeogo raised his black spear and pointed beyond the mist.

Go on.

"From here on, this is your Jianghu."

"......!"

Yeon Sowol could not say anything.

His fingertips trembled faintly as he clasped both hands together and lowered his head in a deep bow.

Step. Step. Step.

Leading the White-Robed League, he passed the seniors and disappeared deeper into the mist. White robes melted into the white fog.

Shin Si-ye watched them blankly, then turned and asked,

"Senior, is this really all right? I never had any ties to the provincial governor, so it doesn't matter to me. But that's not true for you. Didn't you promise the provincial governor that you'd keep the younger generation in line?"

Jin Hyeogo shrugged.

"Well, I did stop them, so I haven't completely broken my promise. I did my best in my own way. Besides."

Jin Hyeogo reached into his robes.

Soon, he pulled out a sheet of paper.

The proclamation Yeon Sowol had scattered throughout Yuezhou.

Jin Hyeogo's eyes lingered over every line, his gaze piercing even the dense mist that made it impossible to see a step ahead.

[The Great Way Has No Gate]

The great way has no gate.

[May You Alone Remain Awake]

Please, remain awake alone!

[Bravely Discern Right from Wrong]

Bravely distinguish righteousness from wickedness.