Ingenious Move

On the road from Jukpyeong to Yeonhyang, there were many side paths, but they were too narrow for wagons.

But between Yeonhyang and Sinhwajeong, there was a deep valley that all had to pass through—if surrounded, escape was impossible.

“To save the three hundred people, the valley is the place to strike.”

He disliked prolonging the Ryeo people’s suffering, but it was the best option.

“With two ambushes we’ll bring down four wagons. That leaves six moving. If we sabotage the nails, they’ll collapse soon after departure.”

The wheel sabotage was Yun-seon’s idea.

While pondering how to buy time, he recalled Bang Inbeom’s intel from inside and conceived it.

“While we block their retreat and engage their masters, we must move the wagons entirely. Can sturdier ones bear the load?”

At Seomun’s question, Ma Sepung beat his chest boastfully.

“I’ve roamed here for decades—think I can’t manage that much?”

They also needed time to hold off the escort experts.

Sixty escorts were one thing, but twenty escort chiefs required the Seven Stellar Lords themselves to handle.

If Jo Yang’s elites joined in, the outcome was uncertain.

“I’ll block the entry, that grumbler the retreat. The rest is yours. No matter whom Jo Yang brings, the two of us won’t be easy to overcome.”

Pointed at by Ma Sepung, Seong Gon pouted but didn’t protest.

He’d never intended to just watch.

If he didn’t act, a disciple might be gravely hurt.

With Sepung’s help, it was like gaining an army.

But worried for his friend’s safety, he only sighed instead of thanking him.

As plans wrapped up, Yun-seon parted his lips hesitantly.

He seemed unsure, fearing to spoil the mood.

“Brother, speak freely.”

Only after Yun Seol pressed did he stammer forth.

“But if… something unexpected happens…”

All their faces darkened.

With such slim chances, they had to consider the worst.

And that might mean someone’s death.

“No, it must be considered.”

Seong Gon, silent until now, finally spoke.

He hadn’t wanted to dampen morale, but it had to be said.

If either Inbeom or Yun-seon, tasked with the key roles, were exposed, the plan would collapse.

“So I believe we need a fallback plan.”

No one spoke, eyes downcast. Time passed heavily.

Only when the candle burned halfway did Yun-seon speak.

He had a second plan—riskier and harder than the first.

“If something happens to one of us…”

Yun Seol’s eyes were already brimming.

One blink and they’d spill.

Yun-seon, pitying her, gently held her hand.

“If something happens, we must advance the plan immediately.”

He traced the map on the table again.

“As I said, the entry near Jukpyeong inn splits into four side paths. Narrow, but perfect for slipping people away.”

Seong Gon closed his eyes and nodded.

Better to try than to give up.

But Seomun disagreed.

Yun-seon’s logic wasn’t wrong, but the difficulty was too great.

“But there’s no way to move so many.”

“What if we split them up instead of moving them whole?”

Even in the dark, Yun-seon’s eyes gleamed.

The narrow paths might be an advantage.

The first plan’s problem was wagon movement.

Moving them whole was too difficult.

Loading heavy wagons onto heavier ones slowed them further.

If pursued, they’d be caught quickly.

But what if the transport was smaller?

“Can you procure fifty small carts?”

All eyes turned to Ma Sepung.

“Short notice, but not impossible.”

Thrilled, Sepung hopped on his chair.

At last he had a disciple to be proud of—his shoulders danced.

“With two disciples per cart carrying six Ryeo folk, it’ll be more mobile than one great wagon.”

“But the eight wagons can’t be felled by pulling nails alone.”

Yun-seon furrowed his brow.

This might be the plan’s greatest flaw.

Then an idea struck.

“Isn’t there the Ten Thousand Jin Step¹? Triple your weight with weighted anklets. If used on the wagons one by one from the front, it’ll work.”

Thus the second plan was completed under Yun-seon.

But it was only a fallback.

It had too many variables and needed too much time.

Worse, the Ryeo captives could be harmed.

“It’s only for emergencies. Let’s hope it never comes to that.”

Silence fell again.

All five prayed the main plan would proceed without hitches.

All eyes turned to the eighth wagon; Ma Cheong-ok rushed up, pale.

Keeping the tribute secret had been the Emperor’s decree.

His life was as good as forfeit.

“Get a hold of yourself.”

Yong Jo, more rational, shook his shoulder.

Repairing the wagon would take time.

Luckily, the inn wasn’t far.

Dispatching swift escorts to repair wheels was priority.

“The escort chiefs will hold Ma Jingun and the Taiyi Divine Sect. Master, return to Jukpyeong inn with the escorts.”

Terrified, Ma Cheong-ok nodded under Yong Jo’s force.

He mounted with difficulty and fled with seven escorts.

“You cur!”

Yong Jo roared and leapt at Jingun, still standing tall atop a wagon like a tiger.

He meant to shield his master.

Stepping on a horse, he drew his sword mid-leap.

The upward force bent the blade in rebound.

Twisting his wrist, the blade spun to coil around Jingun’s waist.

Kkang!

One clash.

Their weapons met—Yong Jo felt violent recoil and dropped his sword.

Suspended mid-air, he fell from the same height.

“Urgh!”

“Escort Chief Yong!”

He screamed and fainted; several leaders gathered around.

None matched Jingun’s skill; all hesitated.

“Then watch!”

Seeing Yong Jo’s fall, Hyeongjin judged it better to drag Jingun down than climb up.

He drew Jingun’s attention, then stabbed toward a leg jutting from the wagon.

Taking a hostage was surest.

“Baek Hyeongjin!”

But it was not Jingun’s spear that blocked it—it was the porter youth’s heavy fist.

Shocked, he retreated and saw whose fist it was.

“Kang… Yun-seon?”

“Yes, it’s me!”

It was Yun-seon before him—yet not the same.

Slender frame, delicate face remained—but his once-bright eyes now brimmed with killing intent.

“So you lived after all?”

Hyeongjin wasn’t simply glad his suspicion was right.

For half a year he’d searched for Ju-un and him—sometimes wishing he were dead.

He hated Yun-seon, who had nothing yet drew attention as if a prodigy.

Even Ju-un, who gave him nothing, regarded Yun-seon as special.

“Today I’ll surely kill you!”

His gentle mask gone, Hyeongjin’s face burned with jealousy and rage.

Paradoxically, that made him more human.

“Are you even human?!”

Yun-seon roared, swinging his fists together.

Qi focused in his core altered the air between his fists.

“Soul’s Eminence Fist, Second Form—Soul Eminent Rain Water!”

Chill, damp qi poured from his right fist toward Hyeongjin’s face.

“Break through!”

Ma Cheong-ok glanced at fallen Yong Jo but didn’t care.

He spurred his horse back the way they came.

Past the forest lay the inn.

If Alliance Leader Jo arrived while wagons were fixed, they could endure.

As seven escorts fought cultists, he entered the pine path.

“Why so hasty?”

At the booming voice that shook leaves, he tumbled off.

Crawling, he raised himself—before him stood a giant foot.

He slowly looked up.

A towering white-haired elder in black robes glared down.

“Wh-who…?”

“Hmph!”

Thud!

The elder snorted and slammed his palm into Ma Cheong-ok’s forehead.

It was instant.

Without closing his eyes, Ma Cheong-ok, Bureau Master of Unpyeong Escort Bureau, died.

He never knew his killer was the notorious Sword Demon Seong Gon.

Crack!

Snap!

Below, Ma Jingun, unfazed, tore a wagon wall with his spear.

The nightmare within was revealed.

“Ghhk.”

Better not to have seen.

Eminent Mountain disciples squeezed their eyes shut.

Dozens barely alive lay bound, drenched in filth.

Among them—children barely ten.

In-gyeong, fighting nausea, stared.

Each revealed detail burned one question in his mind:

“Who is truly the villain?”

“There’s only one master—can’t we handle Ma Jingun alone?”

Yang Jo, the head of escort chiefs, rallied the others.

Except for Jingun above, foes weren’t tough.

While escorts fought masked cultists, leaders regrouped, guarding wagons.

Startled but superior in numbers and skill, the fight favored them.

Screech!

Boom!

Then Jingun’s last act was done.

All eight wagons opened.

Leaders aimed weapons below, expecting him to descend.

Even he couldn’t withstand dozens to one.

“Uwoooohhh!”

But again, the unexpected.

A loud battle cry neared.

Dust rose from four side paths.

Dozens of carts surged in like waves.

And then,

“Tonight, thankfully, the moon is bright.”

The escorts and leaders groaned unconsciously.

A middle-aged scholar in white robes walked lightly before them.

Like on a night stroll, he looked around, then elegantly opened a fan.

Each wave of the fan rippled the black river painted on it.

“It’s Yi Seomun!”

Someone’s cry rang out.

On that moon-bright autumn night, over a hundred clashed—uncertain what they fought for, but wagering their lives.

묘수 (妙手), An Ingenious Move:

A brilliant move, especially in Go; a person of talent.