Chapter 169
Chapter 169
“Second Young Master!”
Namgung Cheon’s right-hand man, Namgung U, urgently called out to the future Clan Head.
A sense of inexplicable dismay tinged Namgung U’s agitated voice.
Seeing Namgung U rapidly climbing the mountain path, Namgung Cheon asked in a slightly tense voice.
“What’s going on?”
“The Sword Exalted sent a letter telling us to return immediately.”
“What? That makes no sense. It’s only been three shijin since we left the battlefield.”
“That’s why I was puzzled as well, but it seems to truly be from the Sword Exalted.”
“Did the Unorthodox Alliance send someone trustworthy in person?”
“It wasn’t a person. The White Tiger that the Sword Exalted keeps with him brought the letter.”
Youngho only kept a cat as a pet, so why was he suddenly mentioning a White Tiger?
—Cheon, you should be careful. That cat is far stronger than it looks. Don’t let your guard down.
Namgung Cheon suddenly recalled the warning Hwangbo Nyeong had once given him. Her unusually serious expression had momentarily overwhelmed even him.
Just as the memory surfaced, a low growl of a tiger sounded above Namgung Cheon’s head.
Startled, he raised his head.
There, perched on a tree, was a White Tiger staring down at him with a presence that alone was overwhelming.
‘And that’s not all…!’
Only after seeing it did he realize that the White Tiger before him possessed something mysterious and peculiar.
It wasn’t Qi, nor was it martial presence. It felt as though it revealed the very essence of a living being.
And then he understood.
‘So the cat Youngho kept was actually a White Tiger!’
Judging by the profound sensation it emitted, this was certainly no ordinary White Tiger. It was unmistakably a spirit creature.
Youngho had been raising a White Tiger spirit creature—something even the Beast Palace of the Outer Regions was said to be incapable of raising.
Once again, Namgung Cheon was reminded of what a monstrous individual Youngho was.
‘If I remember correctly, its name was Seonpung?’
Before Namgung Cheon even called it, Seonpung leapt down from the tree and landed lightly on the ground. As the White Tiger continued staring at him, Namgung Cheon seemed to realize something and snatched the letter from Namgung U.
‘The Demonic Cult has chosen a War of Attrition. Rejoin the front lines immediately.’
The contents were brief, yet the meaning behind them was immense.
‘Don’t tell me the Demonic Cult has already retreated? This quickly?’
It made no sense. It had not even been two days since the main forces of the Murim Alliance and the Unorthodox Alliance had been deployed to the front lines.
And yet they had already withdrawn?
The Demonic Cult’s cautious yet precise judgment sent a chill through him.
Moves were read, and moves were revealed.
At this simple act, Namgung Cheon felt nothing but awe.
It felt as though a massive Go board had unfolded before his eyes.
Now he felt as though he understood why the strategists of the past found such exhilaration in reading their opponent’s moves.
If merely witnessing it caused such chills, what would it feel like to enact it personally?
At the very least, it was a sensation he would never experience in his lifetime, since he was not a strategist.
Namgung Cheon quickly wrote his name onto Youngho’s letter and placed it inside Seonpung’s bundle, since messages between them could cross paths.
“You may go now.”
As befitted a spirit creature, Seonpung understood Namgung Cheon’s words and immediately retraced the path it had come from.
But its speed was so astonishing that Namgung U could not hide his bewildered expression as he watched Seonpung move faster than himself.
Namgung Cheon watched Seonpung depart for a moment before turning away and speaking.
“Inform the soldiers that we are heading to the front lines.”
“Yes!”
In the worst case, they might encounter the Demonic Cult on the way back, so Namgung Cheon decided to leave immediately despite having just arrived.
Thus, both sides entered a temporary lull for three days.
Meanwhile, the Alliance was thrown into utter chaos.
“This makes no sense. At the very least, if it were me, I would never do this.”
“Strategist Zhuge, the opponent is the one called the Demon Brain. He’s someone our minds cannot comprehend.”
“But can you understand it, Strategist Myeongnyang?”
“…….”
Even Myeongnyang, who always maintained composure, could not answer that question carelessly.
When Myeongnyang and Zhuge Lianhua—the ones who could be called the Alliance’s chief strategists—visibly panicked, the others inevitably fell into confusion as well.
After all, whenever something unknown arose, it was always Myeongnyang and Zhuge Lianhua who understood it.
As the anxiety reached its peak, Zhuge Lianhua began biting past her nails and into the flesh of her fingers.
Seeing this, Youngho clicked his tongue softly.
“Myeongnyang.”
“Yes.”
Myeongnyang responded to Youngho’s call, though anxiety still lingered on his face.
After gazing at his uneasy eyes for a moment, Youngho asked calmly.
“If we were the ones to strike the Demonic Cult first, what kind of situation do you think would occur? Tell me both the best and worst possible outcomes.”
Startled by the question, Myeongnyang quickly began pouring out the thoughts he had accumulated in his mind.
“If our assault succeeds, we could reclaim half the lands of Sichuan and Gansu each.”
“And if it doesn’t succeed?”
“That assumption is meaningless. If it fails, nothing changes. However, I can tell you the worst outcome.”
“Speak.”
“There’s a possibility we could fall into a trap before even launching the assault. The Demonic Cult excels in Heretical Arts and Jiangshi Techniques. If we fall into their trap, we will certainly be annihilated.”
“Even if I go?”
Though the question was unsettling, Myeongnyang only hesitated briefly before continuing.
“Even if you go, my lord, it would still be annihilation. You might escape the trap, but if we lose more than half our forces, that must still be considered annihilation.”
“Good. Then now think of a way to avoid that trap.”
“Pardon?”
Myeongnyang, who had maintained his composure until moments ago, asked with a bewildered expression.
“W-What did you just say…?”
“If they won’t come to us, then we must go to them.”
“But—!”
“That’s why I gave you time.”
Youngho cut him off and continued.
“Consider every terrain feature the Demonic Cult could exploit. I don’t care if it takes a month or a year—find a way for our soldiers to safely reach the Demonic Cult’s stronghold.”
“……!”
“War is originally about endurance as well. When has a war ever ended in just three days? Wars normally last a year at the very least.”
Youngho spoke indifferently, yet what radiated from him was not arrogance but the patience of someone fully prepared to endure.
Seeing this, the strategists trembled as though lightning had struck their minds.
It wasn’t just the ordinary strategists.
Even Myeongnyang and Zhuge Lianhua looked stunned, reproaching themselves for forgetting something so basic.
Yet it was only natural.
No matter how brilliant, Zhuge Lianhua had not yet reached the age of forty, and Myeongnyang was a genius who had only recently stepped onto the path of strategy.
They had experience and ability, yet little time serving as strategists.
They possessed exceptional intellect and knowledge, but lacked the weight of years.
Compared to other strategists who fought with theory alone, they possessed a far broader perspective.
Yet they were still inexperienced.
Against an ordinary war, their knowledge would suffice.
But against the Demonic Cult, knowledge alone was useless.
They were enemies who had to be confronted not with knowledge, but with instinct.
A strategist had to discard emotion and face such opponents using theories grounded in instinct.
Youngho simply helped because he already knew.
If this were before his Regression, they would once again have been helplessly outplayed by the Demon Brain.
Youngho gazed toward Cheonsan, where the Heavenly Demon would be.
‘Whether it takes one year or ten years.’
This time, he would win.
The Demon Brain had already made his move.
Now it had to be read and countered.
And not merely countered—one had to plan several moves ahead afterward.
That was the only way to fight the Demon Brain.
The Demon Brain would undoubtedly read every strategy, so only by doing this could the match even become possible.
Unfortunately, Youngho did not have the luxury to focus on the Demon Brain.
Just struggling to defeat the Heavenly Demon was already more than enough.
All Youngho could do was trust his subordinates and offer them a little guidance.
Ten days later, the Alliance forces began their march to reclaim Sichuan and Gansu.
But the Demonic Cult was nowhere to be found.
Not in Sichuan, not in Gansu, and not even in the Kunlun Mountains.
They were nowhere.
No matter how capable the Demonic Cult was, they could not ascend into the sky nor vanish into the earth.
And so everyone grew furious.
They felt humiliated.
Those who had tasted defeat even began to lose their sanity.
After exterminating Kunlun and devastating the lands of Sichuan and Gansu, the Demonic Cult had simply returned to Cheonsan.
To the place where their god resided.
Everything had been part of their scheme.
The damage inflicted upon the Demonic Cult was minimal.
Not a single one of the Twelve Demons—its core power—had been killed.
Even when killing the Demonic Cult’s martial artists, the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions had suffered greater losses.
Mockery.
This had all been nothing more than mockery.
Cheonung, who had gone to the battlefield yet never fought a proper battle, could not sleep—not from frustration at missing a fight, but from the shame he felt as a martial artist.
It was not like Cheonung at all.
He should have been complaining that he had not met an opponent worthy of cutting down.
Instead, he simply stared blankly into empty space.
And it was not only Cheonung.
Even Han Yonghu, the Murim Alliance Leader, had lost his smile from the deep humiliation.
Han Yonghu, who always wore a kind smile, was nowhere to be seen.
Even Hwa Ryeong, the Divine Physician who served as the head of the Medical Pavilion in the Orthodox–Unorthodox Alliance, could not hide her emotions.
Common People had died.
Even those who could have been saved could not all be saved due to a lack of hands.
Those who could not be saved far outnumbered those who were.
She felt resentment and injustice.
As grief and fury mixed together, a deep hatred formed.
Ordinarily, she would have already declared that she would personally take the Heavenly Demon’s head and charged toward Cheonsan.
But because Hyeon-gang possessed an even deeper and more persistent hatred than hers, even Hwa Ryeong had no choice but to restrain herself.
And even they were among the calmer ones.
Despair and self-loathing engulfed the entire building.
The soldiers of the Murim Alliance in particular showed the worst symptoms.
Or rather, they could not help but show them.
At the very least, the Unorthodox Alliance had not suffered the loss of their own people.
Even if they had, they likely would not have felt much.
They would simply acknowledge that someone had disappeared.
“AAAAAAAH!!”
At that moment, from the very top floor of the pavilion, a despairing scream louder than a Lion’s Roar shook the entire building.
“Elder!”
“Knock him unconscious immediately!”
“Senior Brother! Please regain your senses!!”
Voices of genuine concern rang out, yet the screaming did not cease.
“I’ll send them all to hell!! Kunlun! Kunlun has fallen!”
In that voice, soaked in hatred, not a shred of reason remained.
“What about the others!? What exactly is the Murim Alliance doing!? No—the Nine Sects and One Gang! What could possibly be so important that they are not marching their soldiers to Cheonsan!?”
BANG—!
Something finally exploded with a thunderous crash.
But the people could only shut their eyes tightly and hope that this moment would pass.
They all knew it had been the Demonic Cult’s scheme.
Yet even knowing that, the Alliance was slowly collapsing.