Return of the Mount Hua Sect Chapter 1380: The Preparations Are Never Complete. (5)
Rustle-rustle.
The hawk perched on Ho Ga-Myung’s wrist tilted slightly.
Having flown a long way only to land on the shaking arm of someone running fast clearly didn’t please it; the hawk pecked at Ho Ga-Myung’s forearm a few times.
When Ho Ga-Myung offered the prepared raw meat, the hawk finally began to tear at it calmly.
Ho Ga-Myung lightly stroked its head with his index finger, opened the small tube tied to the hawk’s leg, and took out a letter.
His gaze dropped immediately.
Squinting at the letter as if thinking, he nodded almost imperceptibly.
He then took a small pen from inside his sleeve.
Softly.
He wrote something on a small piece of paper, held it up to dry with two shakes in the air, then quickly rolled it and slid it into the small tube on the hawk’s leg.
Click.
After sealing the lid tightly so it wouldn’t open, he smoothed the hawk’s back and lifted his arm.
The hawk, reluctant to drop the meat it was still eating and hesitating a few times, soon soared high and disappeared into the heavy darkness.
“Attention.”
“Yes!”
The aides trailing close behind brightened at his voice.
“Change the formation.”
“Yes?”
“Split the forces left and right around the central vanguard. Each unit’s formation will be extended horizontally.”
The aides exchanged puzzled glances at the unexpected order.
“Question.”
“Um... Commander. If we deploy widely across the front, our pursuit speed will slow down.”
“It doesn’t matter. They won’t be able to move quickly either.”
There was sense to that. What they’ve crossed so far has been basically unclaimed even from the Four Sects Alliance’s perspective, but from now on they are entering the Yangtze river region where forces have been concentrated.
Naturally they will collide with the Evil Sect agents spread out there, and their advance will inevitably slow.
“But wouldn’t it be better to increase our speed instead?”
At that, Ho Ga-Myung glanced back. The aide who received that indifferent look flinched and bowed his head.
“You don’t seem to understand.”
“I lack understanding...”
“Changing formation means the strategy has changed, and a change in strategy means the objective has changed.”
“...Then?”
“Once the drive is over, you spread the net.”
A chilling aura that he hadn’t shown the aides flickered in Ho Ga-Myung’s eyes as he looked ahead again.
“Now we encircle and annihilate them.”
“Yes, sir!”
A voice full of resolve rang out. The corner of Ho Ga-Myung’s eye twitched briefly.
From the moment they failed to annihilate them in the gorge, his command authority vanished. All that remained was to carry out Jang Ilso’s orders meticulously.
The order he had received from Jang Ilso was very simple.
“Attack their rear.”
But if you decide that a bit, the meaning shifts.
“Closely pursue their rear to attack and apply pressure.”
And with Ho Ga-Myung’s interpretation added, the meaning shifts slightly more.
“Keep pressing their rear so they can’t think of anything else, and force them... to the Yangtze river region.”
If anyone else heard that order they’d surely think it mad. Going to the Yangtze river is exactly what the Mount Hua scoundrels fleeing the Southern Land would desperately want, isn’t it?
Can urging someone to do what they want be called “pressure”? Can forcing them toward what they desire be called “pursuit”?
This isn’t even warcraft. The essence of strategy is to prevent the enemy from achieving what they want.
But Ho Ga-Myung didn’t think that way. More than that, those who mocked the order as nonsense would quietly lower their fingers once they learned the one who gave it is the Hegemony Lord.
Ho Ga-Myung knew.
The core is “pressure.” Or more precisely, perhaps “control.”
By tailing them closely and continuously instilling psychological pressure, the Four Sects Alliance can gain one sure thing.
Namely, preventing them from suddenly doing something insane like they have before.
“Absurd, isn’t it.”
If he judged from what he’d observed of Mount Hua’s Sword Saint so far, they might suddenly veer west toward Yunnan while heading to the Yangtze, or instead turn east, take a ship from the East Sea, and sail north to Zhejiang.
No, that fellow might even calmly reverse direction, break through the pursuing Ten Thousand People Clan, and return to the Southern lands.
Does that sound absurd? How many times has he actually done anything sensible so far?
Think about it the other way: it would be stranger if he didn’t do such things.
The Yangtze river is full of enemies. So why would Mount Hua’s Sword Saint purposely go into the enemy-clotted Yangtze?
Because even the Four Sects Alliance couldn’t block the entire long Yangtze?
No. Mount Hua’s Sword Saint would rather say: it’s dozens of times harder to blockade the sea than block the Yangtze, so why should we go the direction convenient for the enemies?
For ordinary people the idea of circling around the long Yangtze is impossible, but to Mount Hua’s Sword Saint it’s nothing.
He’s the kind of man who would choose the straight-line path from the Yangtze to the Southern Island, moving through a death-filled gauntlet to reach the Southern Island in the shortest time.
If his only goal were to seek the “safest escape route,” then skirting around the Yangtze would be the correct choice.
Given all this, the order Jang Ilso issued now and the intent behind his movements are unmistakably clear.
Namely...
In that sense, the order Jang Ilso gave and the motive behind Jang Ilso’s movement are extremely clear. Namely...
❀ ❀ ❀
“It’s about reducing the number of options.”
Inside a large carriage, Jeok Ho, sitting opposite Jang Ilso across a small low table, looked puzzled.
“...You say ‘number of options’?”
“Yes.”
Jang Ilso nodded calmly. It wasn’t a slow nod, but watching it gave the impression he always lived alongside ennui.
“What does warfare doctrine call it?”
“...I...”
Jeok Ho hesitated slightly and bit his lip.
He wasn’t ignorant of strategy either; to lead men you must know it whether you want to or not. That Jang Ilso favored followers with force but not merely forceful ones was one reason.
“I dare not discuss strategy before the Alliance lord.”
“Ha ha ha ha!”
Jang Ilso burst into laughter as if amused.
Jeok Ho knew this laugh didn’t come from satisfaction with the answer.
Generally one may disdain flattery, but no one truly hates being praised—people like to be elevated.
But that rule didn’t apply to Jang Ilso.
Being at the very top was as natural to him as breathing, and his greatness was obvious; thus he wasn’t pleased—being happy about praise for breathing would be odd.
“I find it amusing whenever I hear things like that.”
“...If I make a mistake...”
“I don’t know much about strategy. I might have learned it when needed, but I rarely needed it.”
Jeok Ho held his breath, but his eyes asked how he could so easily toy with and suppress those versed in strategy.
“After all, strategy is used by people. So as long as you understand people, it’s easy. Remember: if you want to beat the enemy, remember just two things.”
“May I ask what those are?”
“One is obvious: do only what the enemy hates.”
Jeok Ho nodded at that.
This matched Jang Ilso’s modus operandi. The {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} intermediate steps were hard to grasp, but in the end he repeatedly did what bothered his opponents most.
“Do you know the other?”
“...I don’t.”
“Hmm. Actually this is more central, but people usually don’t understand it even when told.”
A flicker of hope crossed Jeok Ho’s face—perhaps this answer would reveal the secret behind Jang Ilso’s strategies.
But Jeok Ho’s hope was crushed miserably.
“People.”
“Yes, Alliance lord.”
“They don’t even truly know themselves.”
“...Pardon?”
Confusion appeared on Jeok Ho’s face—what was this sudden remark?
“Tsk tsk. You’re the same.”
“...It’s just that it’s so simple I can’t quite grasp it...”
“Hmm. How should I explain it more simply... Right. This might be easier. People always lie to themselves as well.”
Jang Ilso paused briefly, smiled faintly, and asked.
“It’s common. If there were the most incorruptible scholar in the world, what would you think of him?”
“I’d think... he’s remarkable.”
“Why?”
“Isn’t incorruptibility itself worthy of respect?”
Jang Ilso smiled softly.
“I see. But... do you think that scholar truly desires incorruptibility and the path of Confucian study?”
“Excuse me?”
“Saying he’s the most incorruptible implies his incorruptibility is pathological. What such a person truly desires isn’t incorruptibility per se, but an incorruptible self-image.”
“...”
“People are all the same. When someone desperately wants something, they achieve great things. So what would that incorruptible person most desperately want?”
“Well...”
Jeok Ho’s face hardened.
“Honor...”
“Exactly. Such a person craves honor excessively. But he won’t admit it—he’ll believe he’s merely upholding his principles, deceiving even himself.”
A sigh escaped Jeok Ho. Even with the answer it’s hard—doesn’t this mean one must fully fathom what’s hidden in a person’s heart?
“If that’s so, does it mean the Mount Hua’s Sword Saint leading the Southern Island Sect is hiding something in that association?”
“That’s obvious. He’s a mad child. But what you should pay attention to here is something else.”
The corner of Jang Ilso’s mouth curved up in a chilling way.
“Have I ever said that the child and I are similar?”
“...You’ve said it a few times.”
Jeok Ho was also puzzled—why would Jang Ilso, of all people, give such an assessment to such a trivial person?
“I mean it literally. The child and I are identical in one particular aspect.”
“Do you mean brilliance?”
“Brilliance? Ha ha ha ha!”
Jang Ilso laughed as if incredulous.
“No, no. It’s not that. The similarity between the child and me is...”
His eyes traced a captivating, yet chilling arc.
“...trusting no one. Not a single grain of trust in anyone in this world.”