Chapter 399: Preparation
Winter had arrived in Sichuan Province.
Unlike the biting cold of the northern regions or the harsh winters of Qinghai, Sichuan’s winter was mild. Snow was a rare visitor, and even when it did fall, it seldom lingered.
But this winter was different. Snow had been falling for three days straight, blanketing the Tang family estate in a thick, white layer.
Tang Mujin sat idly on the porch, lost in thought, when Dan Seol-young approached with two lidded teacups, offering one to him.
“What are you up to?” she asked.
Tang Mujin accepted the cup and replied, “Just thinking about how much has changed.”
His gaze was fixed on the spot where the old medicine storage of the Tang family clinic once stood.
Even after the storage was gone, Tang Mujin often found himself looking there, and Dan Seol-young understood the significance behind his gaze.
It was there, behind the clinic, that Tang Mujin had met the enigmatic Yi Chong. That encounter had turned his life upside down.
The young man who was supposed to become a healer had become a martial artist, and the small clinic that once relied on the Cheongseong Sect for sustenance had transformed into the Tang family estate.
Dan Seol-young leaned over, resting her head on Tang Mujin’s shoulder.
“Feeling restless now that you’re thirty?”
“Maybe a little.”
It had been less than ten years since Tang Mujin met Yi Chong in the spring of his twentieth year. This coming spring would mark exactly a decade.
He couldn’t recall the exact date of that fateful meeting, but one thing was certain: on the tenth anniversary of that day, Tang Mujin would be on the battlefield.
“Just over a month until the Mid-Autumn Festival…” he mused, cradling the warm teacup in his hands and surveying the surroundings. Dan Seol-young followed his gaze.
All the buildings of the Tang estate, except for the clinic, had been torn down and rebuilt according to strategic designs, with hidden mechanisms everywhere. These were the fruits of Dan Seol-young’s years of planning and effort.
Feeling a sudden wave of gratitude for her hard work, Tang Mujin took her hand.
She tried to pull away, embarrassed, but he held on.
“What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” she asked.
“Just because,” he replied, gently tracing the calluses on her hand. Her hands were rougher than most women’s, but he cherished even those calluses.
Just then, a loud voice echoed from the training yard.
Mok Wan-ah and three children were playing in the snow, rolling around like excited puppies. Despite it being not long after breakfast, their mouths and fingers were smudged with soot, as if they’d been roasting something.
Tang Mujin turned to Dan Seol-young. “How’s Young these days?”
“I tried teaching him to read last summer. He picks it up quickly, but he doesn’t seem to enjoy it much. I’ll try again next year or the year after.”
Young, who took after Dan Seol-young, loved crafting things with his small hands, whether it was dirt or leaves. He wasn’t ready for tools yet, but his creations were impressive.
Tang Mujin didn’t ask about Iryeong and Haewon. At four years old, their job was to play and explore.
He glanced across the training yard at Jang Il-nam, who seemed to be watching the children but whose eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.
Tang Mujin then looked at Wi Jin-hyang, who was sitting some distance from Jang Il-nam. Occasionally, they would burst into laughter at the same time, sharing secrets through silent communication.
At night, they would retreat to their separate rooms, though they rarely stayed apart for long.
Despite the seemingly sweet atmosphere, the mood at the Tang estate was heavier than usual. The martial artists from the Demonic Sect, who made up the largest group at the estate, were particularly tense.
After finishing his tea, Tang Mujin placed the lid back on the cup and said, “Thanks for the tea. I’m going to see Elder Sam An-bul.”
“Alright,” Dan Seol-young replied.
Tang Mujin headed straight for Sam An-bul’s quarters. With Hwa Yeon-shin-ni away in Chungkyung, he didn’t have to worry about walking in on anything awkward.
As he approached, Sam An-bul, who was pacing the courtyard, spotted him.
“Judging by your expression, I can guess why you’re here,” Sam An-bul said.
Tang Mujin nodded. “How many are participating in the Great Demonic War?”
“Everyone.”
“Everyone? No exceptions?”
“That’s right.”
By “everyone,” Sam An-bul meant all the martial artists from the Demonic Sect residing at the Tang estate. They respected Tang Mujin and treated him with deference, but they saw Sam An-bul as their true leader.
That’s why Tang Mujin had come to Sam An-bul instead of asking them directly about their participation in the war.
But Sam An-bul’s answer was unexpected. Everyone was joining the war.
“You’re not forcing them, are you?”
“Of course not. They’ve been waiting for this.”
“Have you told them about the Cult Leader’s power and the risks? We don’t know how many will return unscathed.”
“If they were the type to be scared, they wouldn’t have ended up in prison.”
The martial artists from the Demonic Sect had been imprisoned for opposing the Cult Leader when the Great Protector rebelled. They weren’t the type to stay silent for their own safety; they were rebels who had tried to protect the Cult Leader and the old Mani Sect.
Such people wouldn’t shy away from a fight against the current Cult Leader. Tang Mujin hadn’t expected their resolve to remain unchanged after all these years.
He asked Sam An-bul, “What about you, Elder?”
“Of course, I’m going.”
“Hwa Yeon-shin-ni won’t be pleased.”
Sam An-bul chuckled. “That’s why Ha-ryeong left for Chungkyung in a huff.”
No one likes seeing their loved one head to war, and Hwa Yeon-shin-ni was no exception, despite her years of experience.
“It’ll be a thorny situation. People from Shaolin and Wudang will be there too.”
Sam An-bul’s relationship with Shaolin was strained. He was a defector who had killed a Shaolin monk and fled.
If it weren’t for the Tang estate’s special relationship with Shaolin, the monks might have sent an assassination squad after him.
His relationship with Wudang wasn’t much better. He had killed more Wudang martial artists than he could count on both hands.
Sam An-bul spoke in his usual tone. “It’s my karma.”
“I see.”
As Tang Mujin and Sam An-bul talked, the atmosphere grew lively.
Two groups were approaching the Tang estate.
They stopped in unison upon spotting Tang Mujin and Sam An-bul. One group was from the Cheongseong Sect, and the other from the Emei Sect.
The leading Taoist from the Cheongseong Sect approached Tang Mujin.
“It’s been a long time.”
“I should have visited sooner, but circumstances didn’t allow it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The leader of the Cheongseong Sect was Gong Ryeong-ja, who had succeeded Yeong Heo-do as the head. Behind him were Hwang Ryeong-ja, the former head of the Cheongseong Sect’s Seongdo branch, and Jin Song, the chief instructor. Tang Mujin assessed the other Taoists. Many familiar faces.
“The Cheongseong Sect’s strength… Four top-tier masters.”
There were also many first-rate Taoists, suggesting that about half of the Cheongseong Sect’s strength was present.
However, Jin Hae, the most accomplished of the Jinja generation, was absent. With the current head, Gong Ryeong-ja, present, bringing the likely successor, Jin Hae, wouldn’t have been wise.
Next, the head of the Emei Sect, Hyang Baek-sa-tae, approached Tang Mujin with a bow. This time, Tang Mujin spoke first.
“Thank you for stepping forward.”
“You’ve always looked out for us. It’s time we do our part.”
Tang Mujin assessed the Emei Sect’s strength. They had fewer people than the Cheongseong Sect, but like them, they had four top-tier masters. As far as Tang Mujin knew, the Emei Sect had about seven top-tier masters, so they had brought more than half of their core strength.
Similarly, Eun Seon-rim, a potential successor, was absent.
The reason the Cheongseong and Emei Sects had gathered at the Tang estate was simple.
They needed to set out before winter ended to reach the Gongdong Sect by spring. They planned to stay at the Tang estate for a while, sparring and honing their skills together.
The thought that the Great War between the righteous and the demonic was fast approaching weighed heavily on Dang Mujin’s mind.
“How strong is our force now?”
Dang Mujin assessed the strength that would depart from the Tang family estate.
“There’s me, Hyun Gong, the martial artists of the Demonic Sect, and Elder Sam Anbul. But Lady Hwayeon won’t be joining us.”
Hwayeon was practically the only strength the Hao Clan of Junggyeong had, so she couldn’t be risked in the Great War.
“Elder Jang Il-nam and Miss Wi Ji-nang won’t be participating either.”
Jang Il-nam had laid down his sword, and after much deliberation, Wi Ji-nang had also decided not to join the war.
Dang Mujin was relieved that Wi Ji-nang wouldn’t be participating. After enduring so much hardship, she had finally found a peaceful life. It would be too cruel to send her back to the battlefield so soon.
He prepared to lead the Taoists of the Cheongseong Sect and the nuns of the Amipa Sect to the Tang family estate.
“Please, come inside. You must be tired from your long journey.”
Gong Ryeong-ja and Hyang Baek-sa-tae waved their hands dismissively with a light laugh.
“It was barely a day’s journey. No need to fuss. Finish your conversation first, Master Tang. There’s no reason for the host to stop talking just because guests have arrived.”
“We were just wrapping up.”
“Still, wait a bit longer. We’re not the last guests.”
Dang Mujin looked at Gong Ryeong-ja and Hyang Baek-sa-tae in confusion. Who else could be coming to the Tang estate besides the Taoists and nuns?
But they didn’t answer, disappearing into the estate with playful expressions. The Tang estate would be bustling until they departed for the Gongdong Sect.
It wasn’t long before Dang Mujin discovered who the “last guests” were. A group of about a dozen martial artists, both men and women, approached the estate.
Their demeanor was different from the relaxed Taoists of the Cheongseong Sect or the calm nuns of the Amipa Sect. Even passersby avoided them, their eyes and presence exuding a chilling aura.
There was no need to scrutinize their faces or attire. Just from their eyes, Dang Mujin knew where they were from. They were martial artists from the Jeomchang Sect.
Leading them was, of course, Yoo Jin-gwang, followed by six top-tier masters. Behind them were about ten first-rate martial artists.
The sheer number of them left Dang Mujin slightly taken aback.
“Why so many?”
The Jeomchang Sect was small compared to other sects, but their average martial prowess was exceptionally high. They were known for their fearless spirit.
Even considering that, having one supreme master and six top-tier masters seemed excessive.
The Jeomchang martial artists stopped in front of Dang Mujin, staring intently at Sam Anbul.
Sensing the tension, Dang Mujin spoke to Yoo Jin-gwang.
“I didn’t expect the Jeomchang Sect to visit the Tang estate.”
Only then did the Jeomchang martial artists turn their gaze from Sam Anbul to Dang Mujin. Yoo Jin-gwang, at the front, smiled.
“We’re on our way to the Gongdong Sect, so we thought we’d stop by. Do you have rooms for us?”
“Of course. But… there are more of you than I expected.”
“Is that so?”
“How many are left at the Jeomchang Sect?”
“Women who haven’t learned martial arts, children under twenty, and those who can’t contribute.”
“And?”
“That’s it.”
Dang Mujin felt a faint dizziness.
It was clear that every martial artist of first-rate or higher from the Jeomchang Sect was present.
“Shouldn’t you leave someone to pass on the Jeomchang martial arts to the next generation?”
When Dang Mujin said this, Yoo Jin-gwang laughed.
“The secret manuals are safe at Jeomchang. I’ve also engraved the essence of Jeomchang’s techniques in my mind.”
“Is that enough? You should leave a few more people behind.”
“It’s fine.”
“Yoo Dae-hyeop, this Great War will be unlike any other. The last war between the righteous and the demonic will seem trivial in comparison. The cult leader has already surpassed the supreme level and is advancing beyond. We don’t even know how many supreme masters there are.”
Dang Mujin explained, but Yoo Jin-gwang merely nodded lightly.
“Is that so.”
Unable to comprehend his reaction, Dang Mujin spoke firmly, risking rudeness.
“The Jeomchang Sect could be wiped out. You need to act sensibly.”
Yoo Jin-gwang burst into laughter, as did the other Jeomchang martial artists.
Dang Mujin was bewildered by their unexpected reaction.
“Why are you laughing? I didn’t think it was a funny matter.”
“Master Tang, do you know when an archer stops shooting arrows?”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden?”
When Dang Mujin asked, Yoo Jin-gwang leaned in and whispered in his ear.
“When all the enemies are dead, or when the quiver is empty.”
With a broad grin, Yoo Jin-gwang patted Dang Mujin’s shoulder and disappeared into the estate with the Jeomchang martial artists.
Dang Mujin and Sam Anbul watched their retreating figures for a long time before bursting into laughter themselves.