The muffled footsteps of the masked man left the tent and headed beyond the encampment. While every warrior under the Evil Tyrant Alliance was bound by the regulations of their superiors, he was not subject to such rules.
As he approached the boundary, several gazes shot towards him. However, those who saw his figure quickly averted their eyes, scattering just as fast. He felt all of this yet did not show the slightest reaction. It wasn't that he ignored them, nor was he indifferent—it simply felt meaningless.
The masked man's steps crossed the wide plain, heading toward a small mountain in the distance. After a long trek deep into the mountain, several tents finally came into view.
This place was far removed from the main encampment of the Evil Tyrant Alliance. It's likely that most of the warriors under the alliance didn't even know such a camp existed nearby.
The masked man, his eyes cold, stared at the tents before opening the entrance of the foremost one and stepping inside.
The stench hit him immediately, sharp and foul. The odor of old human filth, dried blood, and rusting, ill-kept iron overwhelmed the senses. Though the sun had not yet set, the inside of the tent was dim.
His eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, revealing ragged mats scattered across the floor. People lay on them, their bodies still. Though they must have sensed his presence, none of them bothered to glance his way.
The only signs of life were the soft breaths coming from various directions. To an outsider, it might appear as a tent for injured soldiers or captured prisoners. Even the masked man thought so at first glance.
Step.
He inhaled the stale air and opened his mouth toward the people who ignored him.
"Just for a moment."
He had merely asked for brief attention, but no one responded.
"...The message has arrived."
That, however, got a reaction. The figures, so still they could have been mistaken for corpses, slowly turned their empty gazes toward the masked man.
Dressed in filthy, dark robes and masked faces, their hollow eyes stared through slits in their masks.
The masked man tossed the message from his sleeve to the closest person.
"There are no particular issues."
The one who received the letter silently checked its contents before passing it to the next person with a disinterested hand. The process continued, slowly, as if no one cared.
It took quite a while for the letter to make its way through all of them. The last person finally folded the letter and handed it back to the masked man at the center.
He gathered the message and looked around the group once before turning to leave. There were others in different tents who needed to see the message.
Just as he was about to take a step, a small voice reached his ears.
"Ha."
The masked man shot a cold glance in the direction of the sound, but the one who had laughed showed no reaction.
"I don't understand."
The voice was weak, no, lifeless might be a better description.
"Should I be relieved or…."
The end of the sentence was left hanging, but everyone present knew what would have followed.
"What are you trying to say?"
"Nothing. It just made me laugh. Now we get to continue being those dogs' tools for a little while longer."
The masked man's brow creased slightly.
"That's a relief, right? Isn't it?"
"Shut your mouth."
"Why? It's a relief. Or… do you disagree?"
The corner of the seated man's lips twisted.
"Or is it that you're disappointed…?"
"You!"
Swoosh!
A blade flashed out, cutting through the air toward the man's neck like a bolt of lightning. The tip of the blade pressed against the bare skin under his mask, and a drop of blood slowly trickled down.
Yet, the man who had the blade to his throat showed no reaction.
It wasn't that he was particularly brave. He simply didn't care, even if his head were to be chopped off this very moment.
Reading the deep emptiness in the man's eyes, the masked swordsman gritted his teeth and withdrew the blade. He turned away, disgusted by the sight, and couldn't help but mutter one last thing.
"No matter what you say, nothing changes. No one forced us to make this choice."
Once again, the quiet laughter echoed. Not of mockery, but of bitter self-pity.
"When's the next battle?"
"...I don't know yet."
"I see."
No more words were exchanged.
But the masked man understood. When the man asked about the next battle, he was really saying that dying in the next fight would be better than this.
"Do you really think dying ends it? If it were that easy, we wouldn't be wearing these masks."
A few bowed their heads silently.
Even the masked man couldn't suppress a bitter laugh.
"Not even Hell will take us. You all know that."
"...."
"Stop thinking. If your mind's a mess, just sleep more."
Ignoring the piercing stares and sighs of despair at his back, the masked man stepped out of the tent.
Suddenly, sunlight poured down on his face.
He felt the sharp rays on his skin and instinctively adjusted the mask on his face. He didn't want the light to touch him. He didn't want anyone to see his face.
'Not much time left.'
But... was that really true?
This war would end, one way or another. But would it truly end for them?
Lowering his head, he stepped toward the next tent, avoiding the sky above.
Far in the distance, dark clouds were slowly gathering, as if they were trying to hide him from the heavens.
---
"He's not here."
"I thought so."
There wasn't a hint of disappointment in Jegal Jonghyo's voice as he responded. However, there was a trace of irritation on his face.
How long were they going to continue this meaningless search? After searching all over Wudang Mountain, they were now being ordered to search the nearby villages.
Were they really planning to find one person in this vast world?
"We've looked everywhere, and he's still not here. By now, he should be long gone."
"But isn't it strange, brother? He's lost his martial arts, yet…."
"Still, he was the acting sect leader of Mount Hua."
"But if he has no martial arts, isn't he just like anyone else?"
"Watch your mouth."
"...I apologize."
Although he reprimanded him coldly, Jegal Jonghyo didn't entirely disagree.
'Baek Cheon….'
Baek Cheon, the Pure Sword of Mount Hua. The leader of Mount Hua's Five Swords, and the man who was once slated to become the next Sect Leader of Mount Hua. He had been one of the most promising swordsmen in all the martial world.
'Such a shame.'
Jegal Jonghyo could understand why the higher-ups were so adamant about finding Baek Cheon, even resorting to this wild goose chase.
But it didn't change the fact that it was a waste of time.
'This is futile.'
No matter how great he had once been, he was now nothing more than a common man who had lost his martial arts. What could they hope to gain by finding him?
Even if he hadn't lost his martial arts, it's still the same. Mobilizing this many people just to track down one person in the middle of preparing for the battle against the Evil Tyrant Alliance is excessive. It's not as if that one person can change the course of the war.
"Huu,"
A low sigh escaped from Jaegal Jonghyo's lips. A cautious voice came from the side.
"Brother."
"What?"
"Isn't it time to give up? We don't have any say in the matter, but even the Sect Leader must understand the situation, right?"
Jaegal Jonghyo didn't respond.
"Everyone is quietly complaining, even if they don't say it out loud. Why go through this trouble..."
"Then keep your mouth shut."
"Brother."
"Stop wasting time and keep searching."
"...Yes."
Jaegal Jonghyo sighed softly and turned his head away.
'Fool...'
It wasn't as if such blunt opinions hadn't already been expressed several times. The Sect Leader knew it too—that this was a pointless exercise.
The reason they couldn't assert it more strongly was simple. The ones most enthusiastic about this exhausting search were Mount Hua and the Southern Edge Sect. Even the Sichuan Tang Family was subtly supporting them.
With the most influential factions in the Heavenly Comrade Alliance speaking in unison, the voice of the Jaegal family, who had joined the Alliance late as remnants of the Five Great Families, would never carry weight.
"Just a little longer."
"..."
"If we endure for just another day or two, they'll realize that this is all meaningless."
"Do you really think those who should already know that would still act like this?"
"At the very least, it will give us the justification to speak up."
A sigh escaped from his cousin, Jaegal Dongin.
"Fine, fine. So, even if it's meaningless, we'll continue, is that what you're saying?"
"..."
"Honestly, I don't see how this is any different from what the old Righteous Sects used to do. I had higher hopes for the Heavenly Comrade Alliance."
"...Your mouth will bring you trouble."
"I get it, I get it."
Jaegal Jonghyo clicked his tongue briefly.
Of course, his words weren't completely wrong. The Heavenly Comrade Alliance hadn't been like this in the past. How much had they envied it back when they worked with the old Righteous Sects?
But now, the Alliance felt different. Could it be that an expanded alliance inevitably follows the same path?
'No, there's a different cause.'
Back when the Heavenly Comrade Alliance began to spread its name throughout the world, one name always accompanied it. But now, it seemed that name wasn't heard as much.
Couldn't that have been the turning point? The moment when the Alliance started losing its vigor and the number of frustrated people grew?
'Mount Hua's Chivalrous Sword, Chung Myung.'
What could he be thinking right now? He should be the one most furious about what happened with Baek Cheon, yet he's strangely quiet.
Did leading such a large group change him? Or...
As Jaegal Jonghyo pondered, he shook his head.
This wasn't something he could figure out through mere speculation. For now, he needed to focus on the task at hand. Emptying his mind, he silently began to search the area.
And out of sight from them... a pair of red eyes gleamed.
The Blood Palace Lord chuckled as he watched two people walk out of the village. They were strolling down the mountain as if they didn't have a care in the world.
"I wasn't expecting tight security, but this feels like they're outright ignoring me."
Did they really think the Evil Tyrant Alliance wouldn't attack? Or was finding that Baek Cheon fellow more important?
"Lord, give the order."
"Hmm."
The Blood Palace Lord's eyes turned cold.
Logically, it was most likely a trap. There were plenty of clever minds in the Heavenly Comrade Alliance.
But...
"It doesn't matter."
'Disturb the grass to startle the snake.' If you beat the grass, the snake will come out.
"If we're going to beat the grass, let's do it properly."
A wicked grin spread across the Blood Palace Lord's face.
"Kill anyone who stands out."
"Yes!"
His subordinates surged forward like venomous snakes, and his red eyes gleamed with a murderous glint.