Elder Hyulsaeja thought it wasn't wise to simply ignore the orthodox warriors in the forest and keep pressing forward.
Because that was likely exactly what the martial scholar wanted.
He calmly recalled the march during the day.
While others had been preoccupied with thoughts of merit, Hyulsaeja had always paid keen attention to terrain, never letting his eyes stray from the surrounding landscape.
There had been several places where the two mountains closed in together.
In other words, perfect terrain for ambush. The martial scholar might well have set something there.
If it had been him, he would have.
What bothered him even more was the number of orthodox warriors.
There had been some three hundred in Sword Fragrance Manor.
Yet they had only confirmed about a hundred.
According to a Red Wolf Division squad leader, there was no ambush in the forest.
Which meant the two hundred unaccounted for might be lying in wait somewhere ahead.
To simply keep advancing out of impatience did not sit right with him.
If they encountered orthodox warriors in the mountain pass and the hundred hiding in the forest joined in, they could be in serious trouble.
Now their own force was barely two hundred and fifty. Head-on, they still had the advantage, but there was no way the orthodox would fight them directly.
And Hyulsaeja's suspicion was not far off.
Of the orthodox not present here, a hundred of the White Tiger Band had been set aside. The remaining hundred were indeed preparing exactly as he suspected.
Led by Commander Neung Un-bi of the Black Tortoise Unit, they would block the front after the enemy's numbers had been whittled down by terrain.
At the right moment, fifty on each side would strike the flanks. And the rear would be handled by the White Tiger Band.
This was the core strategy Cheon Ryu-yeong had laid.
In other words, his plan was beginning to be uncovered by Elder Hyulsaeja, with his unusual eye for terrain.
When he voiced these concerns, the cultists all grew grave.
Now even retreat no longer seemed easy.
Mabul clutched the back of his neck and fumed.
"Damn it… how did we, the mighty, come to this? If the world hears of this, they'll laugh us to scorn!"
For over half an hour, no decision was made. They only fretted.
To attack the orthodox in the forest seemed unwise; to ignore them and march on seemed suicidal.
Then Noeakcheon spoke.
"What if we use fire?"
"…?"
"As Deputy Mabul said, they couldn't have set wires and nails across the whole mountain. That means if we burn just the forest edge, it will suffice."
Hyulsaeja's face brightened.
"Good."
Clap!
Mabul also clapped his hands in agreement.
"Ho! Why didn't we think of that? Yes, set it ablaze!"
Still cautious, Hyulsaeja said,
"What if the Tang Clan warriors come rushing in?"
Noeakcheon bit his lip.
"Regrettable… but unlikely."
"…?"
"We've been away from the Tang Clan for some time now. Yet no pursuit. That means…"
He trailed off, then continued.
"…the Black Wolf Lord may have been right. The rumor of the Formless Poison could be false."
Hyulsaeja frowned and shook his head.
"If so, why have we had no signal from the Black Wolf Lord?"
"Of course, we can't be certain. But it is possible."
"…"
A strange silence hung over them.
They could not admit the poison was fake.
But they had to consider the possibility in order to survive.
Hyulsaeja broke the silence.
"If Tang Clan warriors do come…"
He raised his hand, pointing north.
"…then we scatter and flee northward through the forest."
Abandoning the path to the Sichuan branch, they would have to make a long detour.
All nodded. And with a silent prayer that the Tang Clan would not come, they began setting the forest aflame.
Meanwhile, watching from within, Dokgo Mu-yeong looked troubled.
After much murmuring, the cultists were… lighting fires?
The Dokgo warriors looked to their clan lord in dismay.
Dokgo Mu-yeong bit his lips hard before speaking.
"Hold position."
Elder Ohseonggeom of the Dokgo Clan muttered,
"Clan Lord, they intend to finish us here."
"Yes. It seems so," Dokgo Mu-yeong agreed.
Ohseonggeom asked uneasily,
"Shouldn't we retreat deeper into the forest?"
"They won't let us go. They'll chase us immediately."
A pursuit through the forest.
This too had been foreseen.
Dokgo Mu-yeong's eyes gleamed as he continued.
"They have many masters among them. In an unprepared pursuit, the disadvantage would be ours. Better to hold here, in formation."
Elder Ohseonggeom swallowed a sigh, nodding before asking,
"But why have the White Tiger Band not yet appeared? They should be here by now."
Indeed, by now the White Tiger Band should have arrived.
"Who knows. Something feels amiss."
Dokgo Mu-yeong trailed off, deep in thought.
Cheon Ryu-yeong, who always offered brilliant counsel at every decision point, was not here.
They had to think and act for themselves.
Dokgo Mu-yeong thought of him. What would Cheon Ryu-yeong do?
His insight into the whole picture had been remarkable.
Even before battle began, he could sketch the flow of events with uncanny accuracy.
But because the enemy also had masters, variables often arose.
In their last fight, the sudden arrival of the Black Wolf Lord and the Heavenly Demon Sword, their unexpected strength and numbers, had exceeded even Cheon Ryu-yeong's predictions.
Yet he had faced those variables with calm improvisation—never straying from the larger plan.
His composure, his flexibility of thought—that, Dokgo Mu-yeong believed, was his greatest strength.
And now… it was time for him to show the same.
"Things have changed. To preserve the greater picture and achieve our aims, what should we do?"
No one answered. Dokgo Mu-yeong smiled.
"It's simple. The best choice is to trust our comrades and wait. If we act rashly, overcome by emotion, we ruin everything."
A similar conversation was happening in the forest on the opposite side.
Kunlun's Master of the Taechung Hall, Seok Hyeon-ja, asked anxiously,
"But shouldn't we do something?"
Han Chu-gwang replied firmly,
"The hardest thing right now is not to move. And I believe that difficulty is where the answer lies."
The cultists had entered the forest's edge and set fires. As the darkness retreated, the Silver-Iron Threads hidden everywhere began to show.
Seok Hyeon-ja shrugged and nodded.
"To remain still… Yes, it suits our situation perfectly."
"Yes. To trust or distrust yourself is easy. But to trust your comrades completely in a moment like this—that is the hardest thing."
At his words, Seok Hyeon-ja replied with worry,
"If they keep advancing like this, burning as they go, we won't last half an hour."
If they pushed beyond the reach of threads and nails, the enemy assault would begin.
"Before that, the White Tiger Band will arrive. And Young Master Cheon, with the Tang Clan as well."
Han Chu-gwang spoke, his eyes on the spreading flames.
"And the Black Tortoise Commander should be arriving as well. We must trust in our comrades, mustn't we?"
Meanwhile, Commander Neung Un-bi of the Black Tortoise Unit lay in ambush in the darkness.
He was stationed precisely where Elder Hyulsaeja had suspected—the narrow mountain pass where the two ranges converged.
With him were twenty of the Black Tortoise Unit, thirty warriors of the Dokgo Clan, and fifty from Kunlun.
They had not only set Silver-Iron Threads and concealed nails, but also prepared bows. Those skilled in archery had been gathered here.
Neung Un-bi stood behind a pine tree, eyes burning with fighting spirit as he stared down the road.
"This place will be your grave. Come quickly!"
But the enemy showed no sign of coming. Some of his men began to murmur anxiously.
"Could something have gone wrong?"
"It's already past the expected time."
Neung Un-bi frowned briefly, then shook his head firmly.
"If there had been a problem, Clan Lord Dokgo or Hero Han would have sent word."
Later, it would be revealed that neither Dokgo Mu-yeong nor Han Chu-gwang had sent him any signal.
They firmly believed that the White Tiger Band and the Tang Clan would arrive without delay.
If so, then the cultists would flee along their original escape route—straight into Neung Un-bi's ambush. They had refrained from sending word lest a premature signal render his ambush meaningless.
Eyes gleaming, Neung Un-bi pressed on.
"They will come. We must trust our comrades to fulfill the plan and simply wait."
One of his subordinates asked,
"Then should we at least send out scouts?"
Neung Un-bi hesitated, then shook his head.
"If they are discovered, the entire plan may collapse."
Trusting comrades was a noble thing. But sometimes, that trust could lead each down divergent paths.
Perhaps uneasy with his own words, Neung Un-bi added,
"Let's wait one more quarter-hour. If they still haven't come, then we send scouts."
And so Neung Un-bi and his hundred archers stood apart from the battle.
Whooosh—!
A young man with a topknot tore through the night at frightening speed.
The Heavenly Step, the fastest body technique under heaven.
Pyeong-u's feet scarcely touched the ground. He skimmed over blades of grass, flying forward.
It was akin to Grass-Treading Flight, a technique possible only for masters of the highest peak with immense internal power.
"Hm?"
Pyeong-u spotted Tang Clan warriors ahead and slowed slightly.
Tang Clan's young master, Tang Cheon-wi, saw him approach and greeted him warmly.
"Well, if it isn't Brother Pyeong-u?"
"Yes. But where are the others?"
Tang Cheon-wi had almost asked about Cheon Ryu-yeong's condition, but instead answered,
"Those from Sword Fragrance Manor and a few from the main family went ahead. Many of the household had already fought battles and were drained of internal strength and stamina… hahahaha, so we thought it best not to slow the others down."
He forced a bitter smile.
He too had wished to move with those ahead. But his internal energy had already been consumed from using lightness skill, and he had arrived late to the sect, ashamed to show his face.
He silently vowed that once this battle ended, he would dedicate himself to training stamina and inner power.
Pyeong-u nodded.
"I see. Then I'll go ahead as well."
"Ah—yes. But, is Young Master Cheon well—"
Tang Cheon-wi never finished. His clothes whipped violently in a sudden gust.
Pyeong-u was already far ahead, vanishing into the darkness.
Tang Cheon-wi and hundreds of Tang warriors stared blankly after him.
None could speak.
They wondered if what they had just witnessed was dream or reality.
Finally, one muttered, breaking the silence.
"He's even faster than what we saw at the training hall."
Another replied,
"B-but that was a short distance. This is just… unreal…"
"What sect's lightness skill could be that fast?"
"His swordsmanship too, remember!"
Hearing the murmurs, Tang Cheon-wi shook his head.
"I doubted the claims that he was a peak master…"
But he was shaken. Pyeong-u's lightness skill seemed unmatched, beyond even the greatest masters.
"To move with such extreme speed in both sword and step…"
Tang Cheon-wi frowned as he ran with his men.
There were only a few sects famed for both.
And strangely, one name came to his mind.
Though no one knew their exact location, and in all of martial history, they had only appeared a handful of times. Each appearance had been a storm of blood, leaving behind a legend of one man.
One of the Three Great Mystery Sects of the martial world.
"…Could it be… Heavenly Palace?"
He shook his head violently.
No. It couldn't be.
The warriors of Heavenly Palace—the Palace Lord himself—were figures of fear and vengeance to countless martial artists.
If the Palace Lord appeared, it heralded a storm of blood. For every Palace Lord who emerged into the world had only one goal:
To be the Greatest Under Heaven.
They sought out the strongest known masters, delivering challenges of life-and-death duels.
To receive a challenge from the Heavenly Palace was an honor—proof one stood near the pinnacle.
And a terror—because it was never just a duel. One of the two would die.
Tang Cheon-wi's brow furrowed deeply. Then, suddenly, he exclaimed, "Ah!" and smiled.
"No, it can't be the Heavenly Palace Lord."
It was said one had to be at least forty years old to step forth as Palace Lord.
Relieved, Tang Cheon-wi nodded repeatedly.
Of course, the Heavenly Palace Lord would never serve as anyone's escort!
Fwoooosh—
The wildfire spread across the mountain.
Dokgo Mu-yeong's face grew grim.
The flames had already consumed the areas set with Silver-Iron Threads and nails.
The charcoal coating on the threads burned away, exposing them; the leaves concealing the nails had turned to ash.
Soon, the cultists would realize there were no more traps to fear.
"Clan Lord, the White Tiger Band still hasn't…"
A middle-aged warrior of the Dokgo Clan swallowed nervously. Dokgo Mu-yeong shrugged and smiled.
"Hero Nang Wang must enjoy making dramatic entrances."
"…"
"He'll appear at the perfect moment."
"Yes."
"Tell everyone to prepare for—"
But he trailed off. He had already given that order ten times in the last half-hour.
"Then…"
Again, his words were cut short—by a bellow carrying pure internal power, echoing from the opposite mountain.
"Kunlun! Attack!"
Dokgo Mu-yeong also gathered qi in his dantian and shouted,
"Show them the might of the Dokgo Clan!"
"Waaaaaaahhhh!"
The orthodox warriors roared as they charged forward.
And at the sight, Noeakcheon and the other cult leaders grinned coldly.
At last, the time had come to vent their rage and exact vengeance for their humiliation at the Tang Clan.