Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1376: The Preparations Are Never Complete. (1)

“Captain. The Pirates attacked the river mouth, burned all the ships, then withdrew.”

One of the beggars discreetly tailing the lavish four-horse carriage moving east from our main unit grimaced sharply at that report.

“Ships?”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Those bastards... It looks like they’re really trying to make a proper go of it.”

He had expected as much.

The Beggars’ Union prioritizes information coming directly from the field above all else. No matter how brilliant someone’s mind is at analyzing data, the atmosphere felt only at the scene cannot be conveyed otherwise.

The instinct of Mu Chu-Gae, a beggar seasoned in that ‘field sense,’ was shouting, those bastards’ movements were by no means mere bluster.

A sinister momentum that seemed about to explode at any moment was reaching even this distant place vividly.

“What do we do?”

“...Do what?”

“W-we’re in Southern lands, aren’t we? If a war breaks out, people like us will have our heads cut off in an instant—shouldn’t we flee immediately?”

Suha looked genuinely anxious, his face drained pale. Mu Chu-Gae’s facial muscles twitched.

“Damn it, since when did it become natural for beggar brats to value their lives and run away?”

“I-I’m not saying that, but...”

“And yet you claim to be a member of the Beggars’ Union’s Black Dirty Troops?”

At that sharp, anger-laced reprimand, the panicked beggar hung his head in shame.

“I’m sorry...”

“Tch.”

Clicking his tongue briefly in displeasure, Mu Chu-Gae turned his head and calmly watched the main body of the Four Sects Alliance as it moved.

‘Run away?’

Run away, go where? The moment they lost track of them, the Northern lands would cease to be safe ground as well.

Crossing a river doesn’t guarantee safety. Now that Jang Ilso has moved, nowhere in the realm is safe anymore.

Therefore, they must never lose sight of their trail.

Tracking their movements at the risk of life itself is the Black Dirty Troops’s duty—and the mission of its chief.

Deep in thought, Mu Chu-Gae couldn’t help but snicker.

‘Besides, do you really think they don’t know we’re tailing them?’

They probably know. Jang Ilso, who toys with the world in his palm, wouldn’t be unaware that he was being tailed. The likely reason Mu Chu-Gae and his subordinates are still alive is that Jang Ilso doesn’t intend to hide his movements.

All the more reason fleeing now would be pointless.

“Captain! They’re stopping!”

“Get down!”

When Mu Chu-Gae slightly lowered his raised hand, his followers flattened themselves to the ground to hide. Only their tense eyes peered out through the tall reeds.

‘What is it?’

Lowering his body, Mu Chu-Gae pushed his internal qi into his eyes.

They had no reason to stop now. Nothing particular had appeared.

Which meant?

Mu Chu-Gae’s gaze instinctively went to the carriage at the group’s center—the ostentatious carriage drawn by four white horses.

The carriage door, which had been tightly shut until now, finally began to open.

The moment he saw a fluttering crimson robe, Mu Chu-Gae involuntarily forgot to breathe.

‘Jang Ilso!’

Even at a distance where people looked like ants, he could recognize who it was. Though people are as numerous as grains of sand, only one could dare to wear such attire.

Hegemony Lord Jang Ilso. The leader of the Ten Thousand People Clan and the Alliance lord of the Four Sects Alliance had finally revealed himself.

As Jang Ilso stepped out, everyone moving with the carriage dropped to their knees and paid him respects in unison.

Goosebumps ran down Mu Chu-Gae’s spine.

This was a sight one would never see among the Justice faction.

Even the Abbott of Shaolin, said to be at the undisputed pinnacle of the realm, or the head of Wudang, famed as the North Star of Taoists, do not receive such deference from anyone, and they must not.

Only two people in the world can receive such homage: the emperor, ruler of all, and Jang Ilso, the sovereign of Southern lands.

Mu Chu-Gae bit his lip hard.

No matter how aloof people of the martial world were from the secular world, commoners must never dare to display such behavior. It was disloyalty to the emperor and blind worship of power, precisely the sort of thing those who titled themselves the Justice faction must beware most of.

Yet still... Mu Chu-Gae could not deny that his heart trembled at the sight. He would never admit it even under death, but the image Jang Ilso displayed now was what he had longed for even in his dreams.

“That man...”

“Shh!”

Mu Chu-Gae clamped a hand over his subordinate’s mouth before he could speak.

Even if it were not Jang Ilso himself but his grandfather, they couldn’t be sure to detect those warriors of stealth at this distance, but there was no harm in being cautious at all times.

‘What are they trying to do?’

With a tense gaze, Mu Chu-Gae watched the Four Sects Alliance’s movements.

Then Jang Ilso made a hand signal. No sooner had his gentle gesture finished than some of those kneeling sprang up and rushed off swiftly somewhere.

‘What...?’

Mu Chu-Gae’s eyes widened.

If a portion had moved during transit, Mu Chu-Gae would have sent his men to tail them too. But in this situation he couldn’t respond recklessly.

“C-captain...”

No matter how skilled they were at tailing, it was impossible to catch up belatedly with such warriors, especially if they had to follow while staying hidden.

But the situation didn’t end there.

Every time Jang Ilso gestured, another group vanished from before their eyes.

This was the very definition of being taken in plain sight. Mu Chu-Gae couldn’t contain his anger and spat out a curse.

“Damn it...”

At that moment, having finished his commands, Jang Ilso turned without hesitation.

Just as Mu Chu-Gae, drained of energy, was about to exhale the breath he’d been holding, Jang Ilso suddenly and calmly looked in their direction.

Thud!

His heart dropped. Instinctively, Mu Chu-Gae buried his head deeper, as if to hide in the earth to avoid those eyes.

‘Did he... notice us?’

He assumed they might have suspected someone was tailing them, but did they really know exactly where they were?

Impossible. No one in the world could pinpoint their trail at this distance. Absolutely impossible.

Cold sweat poured down. He breathed raggedly and thought, but couldn’t bring himself to lift his head. His body wouldn’t obey him; he burrowed into the ground like a rabbit avoiding a wolf’s gaze.

The thick scent of earth and grass, the damp, musty smell of sweat flooded his nostrils. How much time passed like that?

“Captain, they’re moving again.”

Only when a trembling voice came from behind did Mu Chu-Gae snap back to reality. Realizing the disgraceful posture he’d been in, he let go of the grass clenched in his hand and lifted his torso.

The carriage, its door firmly shut, and the escorting group continued moving as if nothing had happened.

Mu Chu-Gae was momentarily speechless. He felt thoroughly toyed with, yet oddly not angry, the sort of anger one reserves for equals.

He was the captain of the Beggars’ Union’s Black Dirty Troops.

He held a stature not to be trifled with anywhere in the murim world, but all he could do now was feel relief at having survived, shivering as the sweat trickling down his spine cooled.

“Captain, what will you do? Pursue them?”

“...Pursue?”

For a moment a laugh escaped as if the air had been let out.

“Leave them be. Report to the main unit, then tail the main force.”

“But...”

“Do you think following them will tell us anything?”

When no answer came, a tone of self-mockery touched Mu Chu-Gae’s mouth.

“Don’t act the hero. Make sure to tail them properly.”

“Yes.”

Mu Chu-Gae bit his lip. His gaze fixed on the small square window in the carriage—easy to see out from inside, but nearly impossible to see in from outside.

Jang Ilso was looking at the world through that tiny window now. But the man who saw the vast world with his own eyes could not at all match Jang Ilso’s perspective.

‘Even if I can’t see with my eyes, I will follow his steps, by any means necessary.’

A flash of killing intent briefly stained Mu Chu-Gae’s gaze as he glared at the carriage.

The dazzlingly white carriage and the scarlet pennants fluttering in all directions.

At this moment, the center of the world was clearly that tiny carriage.

❀ ❀ ❀

Clack.

The carriage door shut firmly.

“It’s really inconvenient without Ga-Myung. Even these trivial orders I have to give myself... tsk, tsk.”

Jang Ilso sighed placidly and slouched onto the soft bedding, his languid movements heavy with annoyance.

He slowly picked up the bottle and cup on the table and filled the cup.

Despite the carriage’s considerable rocking, the clear liquid arced steadily into the small cup. The strong scent of liquor spread richly through the cramped carriage.

Clack.

Setting the bottle down, Jang Ilso gazed at the cup’s rippling surface while reclining. The liquor that had shimmered with each jolt of the carriage soon lay motionless.

A gloomy aura clouded his pale eyes watching the cup. He slowly drank.

Savoring the liquor as it spread from his mouth to his stomach, Jang Ilso then turned his gaze to the carriage’s small square window.

He wiped his liquor-wet lips with a finger and murmured.

“Not difficult, is it? Yes, not a difficult thing.”

He didn’t care that the world he could see from here was small.

If he could draw those he watched into this small world, then even through a little window he would effectively see the entire world!

One by one.

All those he had been watching were gathering into this small window.

Those who crave power, those who cannot sever attachments, those who follow orders blindly, and even the pitiable souls groaning under their ideals.

“Hm.”

Music reached his ears—a splendid drumbeat loud enough to draw everyone’s attention. It was the sound announcing the start of a grand stage.

“Preparations... are now complete.”

Muttering as if speaking to someone, Jang Ilso slowly turned his head the other way—toward the carriage wall without a window.

His hollow, crystalline gaze drifted toward somewhere in the south beyond that wall. It seemed full of hatred, and yet at the same time aching with longing.

“So come on, Mount Hua’s Sword Saint. A stage doesn’t begin without its leading actor.”

A deep smile spread over his face. It was as ominous as a blood-red crescent moon.