Chapter 1658
And I Like Those Kinds of Idiots (3)
Taaap!
Yoon Jong pushed off the ground, his gaze reflexively sweeping backward.
The members of the division were following closely, faces set and hardened. They knew it too—how dangerous the place they were plunging toward was.
Yet what weighed on Yoon Jong's mind was not the danger ahead.
Can we make it?
No matter how he calculated it, the margin was razor thin.
From Shaanxi to Wuhan, the distance itself wasn't excessive. The problem wasn't how far—it was whether they could arrive before Sapaeryeon.
That was all that mattered.
Yoon Jong's jaw tightened as he looked over the running formation.
They couldn't simply push the pace.
Different sects. Different weapons. Different levels of cultivation. Once a mixed group exceeded its limit, stragglers were inevitable.
And stragglers, in this war, meant death.
Unless we know exactly what Sapaeryeon is aiming for, we cannot afford even one.
If even a handful fell behind, they would be isolated and hunted. That was the worst possible outcome.
The more he thought, the heavier his steps felt.
Chung Myung's order was correct—there was no doubt about that. But knowing that so many lives depended on his judgment pressed down on him like lead.
Can I really shoulder this?
He glanced sideways.
Jo Geol was running nearby, his expression unusually serious.
He feels it too…
That realization left a bitter taste in Yoon Jong's mouth.
Jo Geol, who normally laughed through everything, was carrying the weight just as heavily. As his Sahyeong, Yoon Jong should have noticed sooner.
Jo Geol's expression darkened further.
"Geol-ah."
"…."
"Geol-ah."
"Ah!"
Startled, Jo Geol snapped his head toward him.
"Is the pressure getting to you?" Yoon Jong asked quietly.
"…Yeah, Sahyeong. This isn't easy at all."
"That's normal."
"No matter how I think about it, I can't come up with a good solution."
"…Hmm?"
Jo Geol grabbed his curly hair and tugged at it.
"First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth—those are out. Black, White, Red, Blue, Yellow are too obvious…"
"…What?"
"Oh! What about Cheonryongdan? Heavenly Dragon Division sounds classic, right? Or maybe Baekhodan—White Tiger Division—"
…Crack.
Yoon Jong's grip tightened around his sword.
"Is that what you're worried about?"
"Huh? Chung Myung told us to come up with proper division names! In battle, if people shout 'First Division!' everything gets mixed up. We need names that hit instantly!"
"…."
Annoyingly, it wasn't wrong.
Yoon Jong ground his teeth, irritated at himself for being cornered by Jo Geol's logic.
"Look! Even the other vice-leaders look serious!"
"…If that's true, Gangho is doomed."
"Huh? Why?"
Yoon Jong sighed.
At that moment, Jo Geol asked casually,
"Shouldn't we speed up a bit?"
"That's impossible."
"Why? Everyone's keeping up."
"Here, maybe."
Jo Geol glanced back.
Yoon Jong exhaled slowly.
"The larger the group, the harder the rear has to work. The people at the back are already near their limit. Some might collapse if we push harder."
"Then we need to check on them!"
"They already are."
"…Who?"
"…"
"Gah! I'm going to die!"
"Shut up!"
"No, seriously, I'm dying!"
Im Sobyeong was soaked through, face pale, eyes half-rolling as he screamed while running. Chung Myung glanced at him coldly.
"What kind of Nokrim King pants like this? You grew up in the mountains!"
"My strength is my brain, not my body! I was born weak!"
"Is that something a martial artist says?"
"What do you want me to do—"
Im Sobyeong staggered.
His scholar's robe clung to him like wet cloth. His headpiece sagged, drenched in sweat.
"Take that thing off!"
"A scholar wears scholar's robes! This is my pride!"
"A bandit talking about pride is hilarious."
"You keep hitting sore spots—huff! Don't talk to me!"
Despite his complaints, Im Sobyeong suddenly lurched forward.
"Someone's falling behind!"
He shoved the straggler from behind.
"Th-thank—"
"Thank me later. Run, or I'll stab you. Or maybe I'll cut off your legs since you can't use them."
"Eek!"
Terrified, the man sprinted.
Im Sobyeong straightened his face instantly—then spotted another gap.
"Run! Faster, you idiots!"
One by one, the line tightened.
Im Sobyeong cursed inwardly.
Theory and reality were different beasts.
A long formation naturally stretched. If the rear didn't overexert, the line would break—and that could not happen while Sapaeryeon prowled nearby.
So Chung Myung and Im Sobyeong ran back and forth relentlessly, herding people like fragile cargo.
I know someone has to do it…
"But why does it have to be me!"
Still, the formation held.
"Nokrim King."
"…What now?"
Im Sobyeong turned irritably—then paused at Chung Myung's expression.
"What do you think?" Chung Myung asked.
"About what?"
"Our earlier discussion."
"…Which part?"
"There's a pattern to Jang Ilso."
"…."
"Do you really believe he'll follow it?"
Im Sobyeong stiffened.
"I already said I don't think he will. He used to follow trends, but—"
Chung Myung shook his head.
"No. It's nothing."
"…If you start a thought, finish it!"
"Someone's falling behind. Move."
"…Damn you!"
Im Sobyeong ran off again, roaring abuse.
Chung Myung watched him go—then lifted his gaze toward Wuhan.
No.
Toward those who would reach Wuhan before them.
Jang Ilso…
Something felt wrong.
Something fundamental had shifted.
What are you planning?
His hand tightened around his sword, veins standing starkly beneath his skin.
❀ ❀ ❀
Rustle.
A red shoe stepped onto fallen leaves.
"Hmm."
A figure in a crimson robe gazed toward the distant peak piercing the clouds.
"Is that it?" Jang Ilso asked.
"Yes, Ryeonju. Wudang."
"…Is it really?"
Ho Gamyeong hesitated.
"Whether it will still be called Wudang afterward… is uncertain."
Jang Ilso smiled.
"Let's go. They're waiting so earnestly."
"Yes. Advance!"
The army moved.
Jang Ilso glanced sideways, eyes curving like a serpent's.
"I hope they don't arrive too late."
His smile deepened.
"That would ruin the fun."