Abolition of the Wicked - Chapter 176

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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#176

“Your real task isn’t to attend to Do Pyeong-su. Who knows what trouble those two might cause along the way, so I’m sending you as a precaution.”
“But wouldn’t the lady be going with them?”
“Eun Bi-yeon? I’d wager the number of people she’s killed is no less than Pyeong-su’s.”
“What? You mean she’s that violent?”
“When she loses her temper, she’ll be worse than Pyeong-su, not better.”
“You’re asking me to attend to both of them? Isn’t that terribly harsh?”
“It’s not attendance—it’s prevention. Who else would we send? Surely they won’t kill their own disciple if he’s trying to stop them.”
Though “merely alive” might become all too common an outcome.
“Do I have no choice in the matter?”
“None.”
He would have to attend to Do Pyeong-su and the equally violent Eun Bi-yeon, accompanying them across distant Heuk-ryong-gang Province all the way to the Northern Ice Palace in Sae-oe.
‘Should I just run away?’
But after all the time he’d endured so far, fleeing now felt unbearably unjust.
When there was no escape, the only person who could throw down a lifeline was Gal Ma-pyeong, who rushed to Geom U-bin.
“My disciple is to accompany them?”
“Yes. How could we avoid it?”
“You don’t want to go, do you?”
“I’m not deviant enough to want to follow those two.”
“It’s a predicament. Forcing you to do something you hate.”
“Exactly! This is a violation of my rights! Clearly and absolutely!”
“But the reason for sending you is too sound. If you don’t go, someone else has to.”
Gal Ma-pyeong’s hopeful face fell into shadow.
“Must someone really go along with them?”
“Do Pyeong-su and Eun Bi-yeon are going together, aren’t they? With a combination like that, a bloodbath could sweep through Murim. We need at least one person who can hold them back.”
He didn’t protest further about why it had to be him. After all, one of the Hangju disciples would have to go, and he had the strongest reason of all four to be the one.
‘Why did I become Do’s attendant disciple? And why did the lady fall for Do anyway? He doesn’t have much hair, but she could have fallen for Master Seo! Or even the taciturn Master Geom!’
Geom U-bin’s gentle voice came through.
“I’ll give them both a proper warning, so don’t worry too much.”
He felt sorry for Gal Ma-pyeong leaving with his shoulders slumped, but there was nothing to be done.
‘Did I make a mistake asking Eun Bi-yeon to go?’
Since he’d already asked them, he could only hope that everyone they encountered on their journey would remain safe.

***

The Okmuneol Gate is always swept by sand-winds. A blue wind stirs at dawn, and a crimson wind that seems to cough blood blows throughout the seasons at dusk—a place where the winds never cease.
Some call the Okmuneol Gate, which divides Zhongyuan from Sae-oe, the Gate of Life and Death, where fates are separated.
The thick dust that rose from the Sae-oe side came as the evening’s red sand-wind began to blow fiercer.
The garrison soldiers on the city wall, their day’s labor drawing to a close, paid no attention to that unusually dense wind.
The three hundred twenty garrison troops guarding the Okmuneol Gate cared about only one thing: whether a new courtesan had arrived at the gate’s only brothel.
“That… isn’t a dust storm, is it?”
Only when the sand-wind had drawn nearly fifty paces closer did Bong Tae-man, in his third year of duty at the gate, speak those words.
The cloud of dust approaching all at once was certainly different from any ordinary wind.
Shriek!
The emergency whistle sounded first from the third squad, positioned thirty paces away on watch.
Bong Tae-man eagerly blew the whistle hanging from his neck. It was the standing rule: if an unannounced arrival appeared, the alarm signal went up first.
As the horses slowed their pace and the wind from the flags grew wilder, the figures mounted on the eight horses became clearly visible.
“Identify yourselves!”
Squad leader Jeon Sang-do appeared atop the fortress wall and bellowed at the newcomers. The man at the front brushed dust from his beard and spoke.
“That’s cold of you, not recognizing my face.”
“I asked you to identify yourselves—why are you talking about your face!”
Suddenly, the man with the topknot just behind the bearded one loosed an arrow. He’d seen him carrying a bow on his shoulder. But the motion of fitting and releasing it was so swift that there was no time to react.
“Gah!”
Jeon Sang-do took the arrow in his chest and fell fifteen paces down the fortress wall. At this sudden turn of events, the alarm bells rang out that enemies had appeared, and emergency whistles blared from every direction.
“Enemies! We have enemies!”
The routine military drills had always been perfunctory at best. Though this gate marked the boundary between Zhongyuan and Sae-oe, not once in fifty years had Sae-oe’s forces actually reached this far.
The Jeonsa 18 Garrisons, stationed a hundred li beyond, had always turned them back.
“That… that man…!”
The moment Bong Tae-man recalled the Jeonsa 18 Garrisons, he recognized the face of the figure before him.
He’d seen him once, three years ago, but the memory had burned itself so vividly into his mind that he could never forget it.
“It’s Ak Cheon-gil—the highest-priority fugitive the Imperial Guard issued notice on!”
Ak Cheon-gil, who had commanded the Jeonsa 18 Garrisons, had vanished along with seven loyal followers after his father, Ak Myeong-cheong, was arrested on charges of treason.
That had been a month ago, and everyone had assumed Ak Cheon-gil had fled far into Sae-oe.
“Pathetic wretches! How long has it been since the enemy was sighted, and you’re still dragging your feet?”
Ak Cheon-gil surveyed the soldiers gathered atop the wall with disdain. Though rumors called him the military’s greatest master, there were three hundred and twenty troops stationed at Okmuneol Gate.
Eight men could not hope to contend with such numbers. If he’d meant to pass through Okmuneol and enter Zhongyuan, he should have scaled the wall in darkness or, failing that, struck by surprise.
Revealing himself like this and drawing out every soldier was nothing short of suicide.
Even soldiers who trained carelessly had already positioned thirty archers, and the rest gripped swords and spears.
Baek So-yang, the commander responsible for Okmuneol Gate, appeared in full armor.
The well-maintained armor caught the fading sunlight and blazed like gold.
“Major Treason Criminal Ak Cheon-gil, kneel at once!”
Behind Baek So-yang’s thunderous command came Ak Cheon-gil’s reply.
“Everyone seems to have gathered. Not a bad start for vengeance.”
As a major treason criminal to be taken alive or dead, there was no hesitation needed.
“Fire!”
Thirty archers released their taut bowstrings. The distance was not great, so even unskilled archers would have had little trouble hitting Ak Cheon-gil.
Yet not a single arrow that flew in unison pierced him.
With a sharp crack, the arrows shattered against an invisible barrier.
Ordinary soldiers like Bong Tae-man gasped at the sight, while Baek So-yang, who understood martial arts, cried out in alarm.
“Invisible Strong Qi!”
The name was one Bong Tae-man had heard before—an invisible wall of qi that only masters who had reached the pinnacle of martial arts could manifest.
‘And they call him the military’s greatest master.’
Watching the Invisible Strong Qi deflect the arrows, the three hundred and twenty soldiers around him suddenly seemed far less reliable.
Steel sang.
The blade Ak Cheon-gil drew caught the fading sun and burned red.
“Watch from the grave below, Father. Watch as I kill all who had a hand in your death, slaughter every member of the royal family, and sever the Emperor’s head in Zijincheng!”
“Madman! Fire the arrows!”
Arrows flew again, but the outcome was unchanged. Then Ak Cheon-gil launched himself forward.
There was no other way to describe it—he leaped straight up the fifteen-zhang wall in a single bound and began to swing his blade.
Soldiers within reach of his strike fell, as did those who stood two zhang away.
Six men lost their lives to that single sweep of Ak Cheon-gil’s sword.
“Kill him! Kill that bastard!”
Baek So-yang bellowed commands, but there were no soldiers left to block him, let alone kill him.
Each time Ak Cheon-gil swung his blade, the soldiers scattered like fallen leaves swept up by a broom.
Even when a soldier with some martial skill managed to raise his sword in defense, his neck fell with the blade. It was one-sided slaughter.
Ak Cheon-gil had thought himself facing overwhelming odds, but these three hundred-odd soldiers were nothing but straw men with numbers.
As Baek So-yang shrieked mad orders to kill, soldiers turned their backs to flee from Ak Cheon-gil.
This was not a fight to be won. Even if you loosed thousands of sheep to hunt a tiger, it would fare better than this.
But flight offered no salvation. Ak Cheon-gil advanced faster than their feet could carry them, cutting through soldiers as he came.
There was no mercy in Ak Cheon-gil’s blade. Had mercy existed in the sword of a battlefield warrior, he would never have survived to stand here.
It took Ak Cheon-gil scarcely the time of a quarter watch to cut down all three hundred and twenty soldiers.
Blood trickled from his brow, rolling down his cheek. Ak Cheon-gil flicked his tongue, tasting the blood.
No different from that of a barbarian. The Emperor’s blood would likely taste the same.
“Commander, you’re being greedy. You didn’t leave us a single morsel.”
Ga Yang-do, who had climbed the wall only moments ago, complained.
“You should gather your own share. After a lifetime tramping across battlefields, you should know that much.”
“With the Commander clearing the way, is there even a grain of rice left behind?”
“Stop your grumbling. Feast upon delicacies will soon be spread before us.”
Ak Cheon-gil gazed toward Zhongyuan. Beyond that narrow stretch of sand lay a jungle teeming with enemies—his enemies.
Nam Yang-bang, a man with angular features and a solid frame, stepped beside Ak Cheon-gil.
“Surely even the Commander knows the path ahead won’t be easy?”
Ak Cheon-gil smiled faintly.
“Difficult it may be, but I will triumph nonetheless.”
“I have faith in the Commander, but even if defeat should come, we won’t falter. We swore to share life and death with you.”
“All who had a hand in my father’s death, every royal—and in the end, the Emperor himself in Zijincheng—will lose their heads to my blade. Has my sword ever failed to break its foe?”
“There never was. And there won’t be in the future either.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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