WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: ZERO_SUGAR
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 155: The Rear Waves of the Yangtze Push the Front Waves (29)
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Gaseopmyeong sat restlessly atop a pavilion.
The fog that had swallowed all of Yuezhou until that morning was slowly clearing.
It was a change that came after the clash of weapons and screams from Dongting Lake had grown deafening.
Government soldiers who had been patrolling every corner of Yuezhou with grim authority under Yang Hoeam's curfew order could be seen rushing toward Dongting Lake in a panic.
It was a clear sign that Yeon Sowol and the White-Robed League were truly causing something major.
It was also a sign that things were going well so far.
Yet the faces of the gossipmongers seated around Gaseopmyeong grew more serious with every passing moment.
One of them suddenly spoke.
“Mr. Ga. The more I think about it, the more I feel you've gone too far this time...”
He waved the paper in his hand.
It was familiar. Yeon Sowol's proclamation had shaken Yuezhou over the past several days.
“To challenge Yuezhou's provincial governor head-on in Yuezhou itself? You made some money from Yuezhou Rumors thanks to the martial arts tournament, and now you've gotten completely carried away, haven't you? You should stick to writing with ink. At this rate, the blood spurting from your severed neck will paint a gruesome picture before the city gates.”
It was a vicious curse.
Sharp, spiteful words from someone who had long been jealous of Gaseopmyeong's success and had finally found a chance to let it out.
Still, even the other gossipmongers who had always thought well of Gaseopmyeong could not deny the malice in it.
Instead, they quietly joined in and voiced their concern.
That was how dangerous they believed the situation to be.
“Seopmyeong, it isn't too late yet. Leave Yuezhou and run while you still can.”
“Hoo... The real problem is that this might not end in Yuezhou. If a memorial reaches the imperial court, they might even charge you with treason.”
“That's exactly what I'm saying. Young Lord Yeon and the White-Robed League are people of Jianghu, so they'll find a way to survive. But you, Seopmyeong, are nothing of the sort. Why did you get involved in this...?”
“What other choice is there now? At least run.”
Gossipmongers were, by nature, no more than people who enjoyed every sort of backroom tale.
They were not driven by any mission to uncover the truth. They simply laughed at entertaining stories and pretended to know things.
People who could not bear responsibility and did not know how to.
That was why they could not understand Gaseopmyeong, who had openly thrown his lot in with Yeon Sowol against Yang Hoeam.
But Gaseopmyeong was different from them.
“Why should I run? Yang Hoeam is the one who should flee. Do you see that clearing fog over there? Soon, the whole truth will be revealed. Then Yang Hoeam will die as a traitor, and I will receive a great reward from the imperial court as a loyal subject remembered for all time. When that happens, don't come begging me to look after you.”
“Seopmyeong, you're sweating buckets right now...”
Gaseopmyeong, who had been sitting tall and berating them with dignity, suddenly touched the back of his neck.
It was true. Cold sweat coated it.
His forehead as well.
Beneath his chin.
Drip. Drip.
His acquaintances saw it and added their own remarks.
“You know it too, don't you? It makes no sense.”
“Right. I can understand that the provincial governor might have something shady going on. But what? He's colluding with water raiders? Jiangshi? Human sacrifice? It sounds absurd even as I say it.”
“I do enjoy every kind of rumor and conspiracy story, but even to my ears, the tales Mr. Ga told us this time sounded ridiculous. To be honest, they were so ridiculous that they weren't even very entertaining.”
The gossipmongers looked at one another and burst into laughter.
As though it still seemed unbelievable whenever they thought about it.
A few people especially close to Gaseopmyeong frowned at the teasing.
Their position was not much different, though.
“The provincial governor is over seventy. Why would a man like that throw away the good name he built over a lifetime, along with the honor of his family and descendants, to commit something so terrible?”
“Hey, Seopmyeong. Stop dismissing everything we say and think about it properly. Jiangshi and human sacrifice, as you claim, are major matters that would inevitably come to light. What would happen if they did? Wouldn't the imperial court learn of it as well? What could the provincial governor possibly do then? Wander the world and flee at his age?”
“Right. It makes no sense.”
Someone else spoke.
“Let's say, for the sake of argument, that everything you said is true. Let's say the jiangshi and human sacrifice are all real. It's still far too dangerous. Yuezhou's provincial governor holds enormous power, while Yeon Sowol is, no matter how strong he may be, still a man of Jianghu. Even if the provincial governor is punished for this someday, that day isn't today. He has an army, generals, and martial artists who follow him. Yeon Sowol will die in the end. He'll die for nothing.”
At that, Gaseopmyeong, who had silently listened until then, sharply shook his head.
Cold sweat splattered onto the floor.
“No. Leader Yeon is dismantling the formation array. Once the fog completely clears, everyone in Yuezhou will be able to see the truth. Then Leader Yeon will win.”
“Well. Will people really go outside to see it? I don't think they will.”
“Right. Who would want to carry that burden?”
“Even if they do go out, what changes? Gather a thousand, ten thousand ordinary people, and they're still just ordinary people. Will the provincial governor withdraw his soldiers just because they're watching? Young Lord Yeon will only die in front of everyone.”
Gaseopmyeong straightened his back and adjusted his posture.
He looked around at them and spoke even more confidently.
“Leader Yeon told me an interesting story. It was about an imugi ascending to the heavens to become a dragon. When the imugi flies into the sky, if the people watching say, ‘Huh? It's a dragon!’ then it becomes a dragon. But if they say, ‘What? A snake is flying through the sky?’ then it falls midway and remains an imugi forever.”
“Why bring up such a nonsensical story all of a sudden?”
“What I mean is that people's eyes and words have power. The act of people watching and speaking. Even strange, divine beings like dragons and imugi fear such things. How could people be any different? How could Yuezhou's provincial governor be any different?”
With ten eyes watching and ten fingers pointing, how could one not be afraid?
When Gaseopmyeong even quoted a passage from The Great Learning, the gossipmongers around him looked exhausted.
As though there was no reasoning with him.
Then,
Creeeak.
Creak.
The streets of Yuezhou beneath the pavilion began to grow noisy.
People were cautiously opening their doors and stepping outside.
Their murmurs could be heard.
“What in the world is happening...?”
“Is Great Hero Yeon doing something...?”
“But is it all right for us to come out?”
“Well, I don't see any soldiers. They all rushed over there earlier.”
“Let's take a look for now. If it seems wrong, we can always run.”
They emerged.
More and more people stepped into Yuezhou's streets.
Then they began cautiously moving toward Dongting Lake.
What exactly was happening?
What was it that Yeon Sowol had earnestly told them to wake up and witness?
“No...”
“What is this?”
Amid the murmuring gossipmongers, only Gaseopmyeong wiped away his cold sweat and smiled.
“Now... it begins.”
The fog was clearing.
Dongting Lake's blue waves came into view.
A few brave commoners even launched small boats onto the newly revealed waters.
Dozens.
Hundreds.
Their numbers far surpassed expectation.
Yet the government troops who should have stopped them were somehow thrown into confusion and could only scramble about helplessly.
Emboldened, the little boats gathered around the uninhabited islands that appeared faintly through the fog, peering closer with growing boldness.
Filled with curiosity and unease.
Yuezhou was moving.
* * *
Upon arriving at Wuling Island, the White-Robed League found themselves at a loss for words.
“Hah...”
“It was real...?”
“How... How could this...?”
They had believed, of course.
The White-Robed League had come this far because they believed in Yeon Sowol. Otherwise, why would they have risked their lives to come here?
But believing something and seeing it with their own eyes were entirely different things.
From the moment they set foot on Wuling Island, the White-Robed League saw countless corpses.
An old man with his head cut off, sprawled across the sand by the lake.
A widow pierced through by an arrow together with the newborn she held in her arms.
Perhaps he had offended someone. A widower whose hands and legs had been cut off and whose eyes had been gouged out sat crumpled where he had fallen.
There were no signs of the orphans anywhere.
“...”
“...”
The naked horror told them everything.
Yang Hoeam.
Yang Hoeam had joined hands with followers of the Demonic Path.
He intended to sacrifice hundreds of orphans to carry out something horrific.
The White-Robed League members' eyes reddened.
The blood vessels in their eyes stood out until they burst.
Before the plain truth that admitted no excuse, they felt genuine rage.
“How... How can a local official charged with protecting the people of this nation do such a thing...? Did Lady Moyong discover this? Is that why she died at the hands of that piece of trash?”
Namgung Ujin had been preparing for the civil service examination.
Namgung Ujin had loved Moyong Ha.
He stopped halfway through carefully laying the corpse of a brutally slain widower flat on the ground and slammed his fist against the earth.
Bang! Bang!
So from the very beginning, the White-Robed League was already seething with anger.
What happened next was not shocking to them.
“I'm sorry. But we have no choice if we wish to live.”
The White-Robed League advanced boldly across Wuling Island.
A group of martial artists and jiangshi blocked their way.
Most of the White-Robed League were young martial artists, and many had never seen a jiangshi before. In fact, many had never even considered that such things could truly exist.
Unless one's knowledge was exceptionally broad, it was rare to encounter something like a jiangshi.
No one was startled.
They were already angry, so the sight of jiangshi provoked rage before fear.
The White-Robed League slaughtered every jiangshi and Jianghu martial artist.
Anyone who had entered this island could no longer be called innocent, so they had no hesitation about killing.
They no longer needed to cling to the difficult path of fighting without taking lives.
“Leader, thank you.”
“Hoo... You saved us, Leader.”
In that battle, Yeon Sowol once again performed extraordinarily.
The jiangshi's bodies were so hard that many White-Robed League members struggled and were even pushed to the brink of death. Each time, Yeon Sowol stepped forward.
For some reason, bodies that others struggled even to scratch split apart like bamboo whenever Yeon Sowol's sword touched them. Even the martial artists who had charged in trusting the jiangshi were left flustered.
Yet Yeon Sowol tilted his head several times during the fight.
‘What is this? I can sense something strange in their hearts or heads.’
Whenever he killed them using the power of the Heaven-Killing Star, there was an energy that was severed along with their lives.
As though another living thing had been parasitizing their hearts or brains.
As though it had been connected to the person's energy and breathing along with them.
‘And what was that just now? It felt similar to when those ghosts attacked me before.’
When he had fallen into this world, he had destroyed the Ghost King that entered his body.
It gave him that same cold, chilling feeling, so he severed that energy as well. Afterward, everything returned to normal.
‘Strange. Something's strange.’
Yeon Sowol kept tilting his head at the inexplicable sense that something was wrong.
But he had no time to dwell on it.
“Hoo... Huhk. Hooo...”
Once his breathing turned ragged, it would not easily settle.
His shoulders rose and fell, and heat haze continued to pour off him as if he were burning.
Clear blood gathered in his nose and dripped down.
Drop.
The fierce battles that had come one after another had pushed him too hard.
His Eight Extraordinary Vessels boiled fiercely, aching with pressure.
“Hoo. Let's go.”
Even so, Yeon Sowol did not stop.
He could not stop when he had no idea when Yang Hoeam's human sacrifice ritual would begin or end.
Still, perhaps it was fortunate.
After the jiangshi and martial artists attacked once, no one blocked their path again.
There were only corpses and scenes of horror everywhere they went.
At last, Yeon Sowol and the White-Robed League reached the end of Wuling Island.
“So you finally came.”
There, they encountered him.
An old man seated atop a four-man palanquin.
His white hair and beard fluttered as he looked down upon Yeon Sowol and the White-Robed League.
“I don't know what trick you used...”
An alarming force stood around him.
Senior fifth-rank, Flying General Wang Su.
Junior fifth-rank, Commandant Yi Geumha.
Senior sixth-rank, Prefectural Inspector Commander Ha Taeseok.
Junior sixth-rank, Prefectural Inspector Go Hyeon.
The generals representing Yuezhou whom Yeon Sowol had named in the past.
He had named six generals at the time, and four of them now stood beside Yang Hoeam.
Behind them, five hundred carefully selected elite soldiers of the Yuezhou Patrol Guard Army spread out to either side like a crane's wings. At a glance, there were dozens of martial officials among them.
“...”
“...Hngh.”
Groans escaped from the White-Robed League.
Even their burning anger faltered for a moment.
The sight before them was that overwhelming.
“...The Yuezhou Patrol Guard Army's core forces are all gathered here...”
Someone muttered.
They were right. This was already far beyond a force the White-Robed League could dare face.
But that was not all.
There were also Daoists dressed in bizarre clothing.
They gave off strange presences that did not feel human.
Yeon Sowol narrowed his eyes.
‘Those people...’
He had faced fallen Daoists several times before.
They had never been particularly difficult.
Then why?
Why did he feel such an ominous presence from these Daoists now?
Yang Hoeam looked down on Yeon Sowol arrogantly, while Yeon Sowol scanned the surroundings with a faintly uneasy gaze.
Noticing it, Yang Hoeam smiled.
“I have waited for you. So that I could punish you more thoroughly. We have all waited here together.”
Flutter!
Flutter!
Countless flags snapped in the wind.
Against that backdrop, Yang Hoeam raised a long smoking pipe and took several puffs.
Then,
“Did you wait for us as well? We have known one another for quite some time, after all. Even if we are uninvited guests, surely you can make room for us, Provincial Governor?”
With a booming voice, dozens of martial artists emerged from another direction.
At their head was a man in his fifties, holding a black spear at an angle.
Yang Hoeam's face twisted at the sight of him.
Yeon Sowol's showed both surprise and joy.
“Jin Hyeogo...!”
“Senior Black Spear...!”
Jin Hyeogo and Yang Hoeam.
Two men who had once shared happier days stared each other down.
Footnotes:
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