The paper rustled softly as the sheets, woven together roughly, turned quickly.
In the temporary office, Ho Gakmyung's face darkened as he sifted through the documents repeatedly.
'Not enough.'
There wasn't enough military provisions. Supplies were equally lacking. Even though all possible methods were being employed, it was almost impossible to secure enough provisions for such a long expedition, from the southern lands of Gangnam to this far north in Hanam.
If this were an ordinary army, not a group of martial artists, the situation would have demanded more forces devoted to supply chains than those heading to the front lines. That would have been the rational approach.
Ho Gakmyung pressed his fingertips to his throbbing temples. How much longer could they hold out without proper supply units?
Rip.
The edge of the report tore as he roughly flipped the page. Staring at the ripped document, he set it down with a long sigh.
What made the situation worse than a mere lack of supplies was that the collection of provisions from Gangnam had failed. This implied that since the moment he left, Sa Pa Ryeon's control over Gangnam had been rapidly declining.
This wasn't entirely unexpected, but the speed of it was much faster than anticipated. If this continues, the very foundation of Sa Pa Ryeon might shake.
'But why...?'
Ho Gakmyung's gaze darkened further.
There was, in fact, a solution. A very simple one, at that.
'Pillaging.'
By forcibly taking provisions from the nearby civilians, the immediate issue could be resolved easily. No one in the Evil Sect would have any qualms about such actions. If the order were given, supplies would pile up so quickly that even Ho Gakmyung would be shocked.
Even if they managed it carefully, a few sacrifices here and there were inevitable, but such sacrifices were to be expected.
The problem was that Jang Ilso, who clearly knew of this solution, refused to give his approval.
'Ryeonju-nim.'
Until now, Ho Gakmyung had agreed with Jang Ilso's approach. The reason the Evil Sect had never managed to grasp control of the world was because they had aimed to rule, not to govern. Martial artists, too, are still people who live with their feet on the ground. To solve the issues of eating and living, the cooperation of civilians was absolutely necessary.
From that perspective, Jang Ilso's decision to protect the civilians had been the right one. His actions had become the foundation for Sa Pa Ryeon's power to advance into the north.
But wasn't the situation different now?
Now wasn't the time to gather strength, but rather to concentrate it all and explode. They needed to maintain their peak power, even if some side effects had to be endured. So why was Jang Ilso refusing to allow pillaging even in such dire times?
Was it because of benevolence? Ridiculous. There was no such thing. The number of civilians who had died by Jang Ilso's hand alone was uncountable. Even his subordinates, who fought and died under him, were just tools to be discarded if necessary.
To him, the commoners were no different than insects. And even those who are careful not to step on ants will run without watching their steps if chased by a tiger.
Ho Gakmyung recalled Jang Ilso's cold, unyielding gaze. Smooth like silk yet refusing any dissenting opinion.
Even so....
'I must bring it up again.'
He knew Jang Ilso wouldn't like it, but Ho Gakmyung had no choice.
As he made up his mind and stood up—
"Strategist!"
Suddenly, the tent flaps burst open, and one of his aides rushed in, his expression urgent. Ho Gakmyung's voice turned cold.
"What is it?"
"T-the Blood Palace has abandoned its camp."
"...What?"
Surprised by the unexpected report, Ho Gakmyung's expression grew tense.
"And what is the Blood Palace Lord doing?"
"It appears that the Blood Palace Lord is the one leading them."
In an instant, Ho Gakmyung's eyes turned icy.
'In person?'
Orders had been given in the name of Sa Pa Ryeon not to abandon camp. And yet the Blood Palace Lord had personally led forces out of the camp?
This was nothing short of open defiance.
But that only made Ho Gakmyung even more composed.
Even in this urgent situation, he fell into deep silence. His anxious aide, waiting nervously, hesitated before urging again.
"Strategist?"
"Wait."
Chasing after the Blood Palace Lord wouldn't be difficult. But having already made his move, words would have no meaning.
Especially now, after Ho Gakmyung's prestige had fallen due to previous failures.
Prestige was trivial, but if he confronted the Blood Palace Lord and failed to control him, it would deepen the mistrust of Sa Pa Ryeon's followers.
'He must know that well, too.'
Ho Gakmyung tapped his finger on the document.
Reporting this directly to Jang Ilso wouldn't change anything. The Blood Palace Lord had already defied orders, so if Jang Ilso got involved, punishment would be inevitable. That's how authority is maintained.
Yet, with the current state of Sa Pa Ryeon, it was difficult to be harsh toward the Blood Palace. The aftermath would be too much to handle.
After a long, but possibly irreversible pause, Ho Gakmyung finally spoke.
"...Send someone to find out why they moved."
"Sir? But Strategist..."
"...Do I need to repeat myself?"
Startled by Ho Gakmyung's cold glare, the aide quickly bowed low.
"I will carry out your orders immediately."
As the aide hurriedly ran out, Ho Gakmyung clenched his teeth.
He knew that his command was a meaningless formality. But for now, it was all he could do.
'Things are precarious.'
The Blood Palace acting on its own, the Sun Palace Lord harboring ill feelings toward Ryeonju, and the Hao Sect Leader, who likely held deep resentment toward Ho Gakmyung....
If not for the Myriad Man Manor and the power of the Black Ghost Pavilion, which they had absorbed without issue, Sa Pa Ryeon would have likely fractured by now.
What Ho Gakmyung could rely on was Jang Ilso's overwhelming control and a fragile belief that the Blood Cult wouldn't want to be hunted down by the righteous sects.
The feeling of walking a tightrope above a cliff felt all too real.
"Whew."
Ho Gakmyung let out a breath as he rubbed his forehead. First, he needed to report to Ryeonju-nim…
*Rustle.*
However, another uninvited guest arrived. Someone entered by opening the flap of Ho Gakmyung's tent. Sensing the presence, Ho Gakmyung frowned.
Even though his position had diminished, he was still a military officer of the Evil Tyrant Alliance. He wasn't someone who should endure such disrespectful treatment.
*How dare they.*
The accumulated anger from hearing the recent news about the Blood Palace surged within him. But the moment he identified the figure who entered, Ho Gakmyung regained his composure.
"What is it?"
The intruder, dressed in black martial attire and with a mask covering their face, didn't answer immediately. Only the cheap iron sword at their waist made an irritating metallic sound as it shifted.
"I asked, what is it?"
Ho Gakmyung asked again. The masked figure, once more, only cast a silent glance. Their hollow eyes seemed eerily calm.
Ho Gakmyung had served Jang Ilso for many years and walked countless bloody paths, killing numerous beasts of the Evil Sect along the way.
Yet, he now felt a chill from the masked individual's gaze. There was no overt hostility, but a coldness that even Ho Gakmyung, with all his experience, found difficult to measure.
Finally, the masked figure spoke.
"The letter."
"…What?"
"The letter is late."
"…."
Ho Gakmyung stared at the figure for a moment, then instinctively checked the desk. He quickly found a dusty envelope, picked it up, and looked back at the masked figure.
"There seems to have been a mistake."
The masked figure showed no reaction. It was clear they didn't care for conversation unless necessary. It was a rude demeanor, but Ho Gakmyung didn't show any sign of offense either.
He threw the envelope casually toward the figure.
*Thud.*
The masked figure caught the envelope and immediately tore it open. Without blinking, they devoured the contents with their eyes, as if they would swallow the letter whole.
After what felt like an eternity, the figure finally finished reading and put the letter away. With a flat voice, they spoke again.
"It's a day late."
"I told you, there was a mistake…"
"If this happens again, don't expect your head to remain on your shoulders. I'll make sure your master's head rolls alongside yours. Keep that in mind."
A chilling sneer appeared in Ho Gakmyung's eyes.
"Fine, I'll let it go. A good master doesn't kick a barking dog just because it wasn't fed on time."
The masked figure didn't respond. They merely gave him a fleeting look of disdain before turning away.
Just as they were about to leave the tent, Ho Gakmyung added,
"But even a dog has its duties. It may bark when it's not fed, but after eating, it should wag its tail like a dog should, rather than cling to foolish pride."
The masked figure slowly turned back toward Ho Gakmyung. A chilling, blue killing intent emanated from their gaze. The overwhelming hatred in their eyes was undeniable.
Yet, Ho Gakmyung met that gaze calmly and spoke.
"Don't forget. This was the deal *you* wanted."
"..."
"Wasn't it?"
At those words, the masked figure turned fully to face Ho Gakmyung.
A suffocating tension filled the tent, so thick that it wouldn't have been surprising if either of them drew their sword at any moment.
But after a long pause, the masked figure slowly bowed.
A deep, deliberate bow, leaving no room for criticism.
Ho Gakmyung watched in silence, standing firm, as the masked figure finished their exaggerated gesture and slowly exited the tent. The tension, which had been wound so tightly, snapped all at once.
Ho Gakmyung let out a short breath.
It was dangerous to provoke that individual. But the risk had come with a reward—certainty.
*They can be trusted.*
As absurd as it seemed, those individuals could be relied upon.
At least until this deal was completed, they would be perfect allies, no matter what happened. The price they stood to gain from this transaction was far too great.
And as long as they didn't betray him, the advantage in this war remained in his hands.
"But it's still not enough."
Hadn't Jang Ilso taught him this?
It doesn't matter how difficult it is to handle a precarious situation. If the enemy's condition is worse, victory will inevitably belong to us.
To ensure that...
Ho Gakmyung's eyes sharpened.
"Who would have thought something I prepared just in case would end up being used this way…."
That's why one can never predict how the world will unfold.
Sitting back down, Ho Gakmyung picked up his brush. But his gaze wasn't on the paper spread across his desk; it was fixed on the distant horizon through the window.
Wudang Mountain. The place where his enemies resided.
"Perhaps… I've been overthinking things all this time."
Ho Gakmyung's eyes were now cold and calculating once more.
With the precision of a knife, his brush carved words into the paper like it was cutting into flesh. The missive, sharp as a dagger, was being forged.