Chapter 400

Chapter 400

Following a ceremony that left onlookers unsure whether they were witnessing the departure of the imperial military forces or a ritual of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, a force numbering slightly above eighty thousand soldiers commenced their trek toward the northern territories.

Given that more than fifty percent of the ranks consisted of inexperienced reserves, a passive defensive posture within Lanzhou might initially have appeared to be the most logical tactical approach. However, staying holed up in Lanzhou was a luxury the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult simply could not afford. Remaining stationary meant risking a maneuver by the Western Army Inspectorate’s forces against a different region entirely, which would leave them completely vulnerable. The danger was heightened by the possibility of the opposition taking control of the vital pathways linking Ganzhou to Lanzhou, or the routes connecting Lanzhou to Shaanxi—an outcome that would bring absolute ruin by cutting off every single logistics line. Knowing they lacked the elite personnel required to conduct a prolonged siege, they opted instead to force an open, large-scale engagement on the battlefield.

Likely due to the overwhelming presence of raw conscripts, an oppressive, nervous tension permeated the lines as the ranks pressed northward. It was during this uneasy movement that Baek Un-hak abruptly brought forth his pipa and commenced strumming. Whether this was a demonstration of a skill that had reached the absolute peak of hidden esoteric arts, or a reflection of his standing as the leader of the respected Baek Clan, the results were undeniable. His execution was flawless, and the sound waves radiating from the instrument were infused with his internal cultivation energy, clearly reaching the ears of infantry units located dozens of paces away.

The melody was one that a vast majority of the men recognized. As if validating the anticipation of the troops who were absorbing the music, Baek Un-hak lent his voice to the instrumentation, singing out:

“In the dark night, in the pitch-black night,”

This was a spiritual melody reconstructed specifically for the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult—the Hymn of Light.

Energized by the positive reaction of the gathering, Baek Un-hak poured even greater intensity into his strumming. Before long, there was no longer any requirement for his solitary vocals. As the closest infantrymen began to harmonize with his chords, their collective voices carried the tune across the fields, prompting those stationed much farther down the column to add their voices to the chant. The musical progression continued seamlessly, transitioning directly into the subsequent stanza:

“We shall fight against the wicked, brothers freed from sin!”

“Boldly we shall fight, against those vile enemy troops!”

Synchronizing their strides to the cadence of the instrumentation, the infantrymen stepped forward in perfect unison.

“Light! Light! Heavenly Demon Divine Cult !!”

“Light! Light! Heavenly Demon Divine Cult !!”

The thunderous sound of their unified voices reverberated across the landscape.

Positioned in the middle of the advancing force, the Deputy Commander swiveled his gaze across the columns, a disoriented expression overtaking his features as he observed the unfolding spectacle. He could not help but think that this display bore no resemblance to an assembly of outlaws; rather, it carried the undeniable atmosphere of a righteous crusade.

Yet, his confusion did not last. Choosing not to disrupt Baek Un-hak’s musical performance, the Deputy Commander breathed out a soft sigh and let a subtle smile touch his lips. He reflected that it was far preferable for the men to go into battle with this mindset rather than viewing themselves as simple insurgents. The soldiers who had been visibly stiff and anxious only moments prior were now moving forward with an intense, revitalized determination. This psychological transformation was far more powerful than any formal address he could have delivered himself.

The progression forward, sustained by the continuous chanting of spiritual melodies, persisted throughout the entire day. As twilight approached, the forces established a makeshift encampment to rest for the duration of the night, breaking camp to resume their trek at the first sign of dawn the following day.

Tak Ju-gang, who had somehow found himself designated as a front-line shield bearer, sang the melodies with every ounce of strength he could muster while keeping pace. His devotion to the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was completely sincere. He had maintained a spiritual commitment since the days of the Maitreya Cult, but in recent times, that internal devotion had only grown more profound. If given the chance to show gratitude for the benevolence he had received, he was fully prepared to lay down his existence on the line.

At the very least, that had been his mindset during the journey leading up to Lanzhou. However, as the distance between them and Min widened during their northward movement, a creeping sense of dread and unsettling anxiety began to well up from the depths of his being. He was genuinely terrified. He tried to combat these thoughts, telling himself that his solitary existence was a small price to pay to honor the factions that had ensured the safety of his beloved child. Whenever this internal terror threatened to break his resolve, he simply increased the volume of his singing.

He remained lost in this vocal trance for an immeasurable period until a sudden impact occurred. Still somewhat detached from reality, his forehead collided abruptly with the back of the soldier marching directly in front of him. Disoriented, he shifted his body slightly and raised himself on his toes to peer over the line—and his eyes locked onto an image in the distance.

It was an army of individuals.

Because the northern territories of Gansu bordered the lands of nomadic tribes, the topography was largely devoid of prominent peaks or restrictive ravines. The landscape was essentially an open plain, which meant the advancing hostile faction was completely visible against the horizon.

Occupying a forward position among the shield-bearing units, Tak Ju-gang received an unshielded view of the opposition. Even across the vast expanse, their sheer scale appeared entirely insurmountable, causing him to unconsciously clear his throat with a heavy swallow. The sound of his own gulp felt absurdly loud in the quiet tension. Yet, as that realization dawned on him, he noticed that the men flanking him were experiencing the exact same reaction, collectively swallowing against dry throats.

He realized he was far from alone in his terror. The moment this truth settled in, the hand he used to grip his defensive shield began to shudder uncontrollably. His only minor consolation was that, as a reserve asset within the shield wall, he was positioned slightly toward the rear of the initial line. The urge to simply turn and sprint away hit him with far greater force than it had previously.

Right then, the familiar resonance of the pipa reached his position once more. Accompanying the notes, the collective singing of the spiritual chants erupted from all sides again. It had a bizarre effect.

“Boldly we shall fight, against those vile enemy troops!”

Participating in the collective vocals to suppress his overwhelming dread caused an internal conflict to surface, making him question if he was truly meant to oppose the wicked. Though a psychological battle was occurring within his mind, his legs continued to operate on autopilot, maintaining solidarity with the cadence of the chants. He was moving toward a very tangible conflict, separate from his internal doubts.

They continued to project their melodies toward the approaching forces for a significant duration as the opposing vanguard drew uncomfortably close. The sheer magnitude of the enemy presence was staggering. Before them stood eighty thousand regular troops belonging to the Western Army Inspectorate, the established protectors of the northwestern borders. While eighty thousand might seem like a modest number to oversee such an expansive frontier, this figure represented merely the initial gathering of frontline units. The scope of the Western Army Inspectorate’s authority spanned across Gansu, Shaanxi, Qinghai, and Ningxia—encompassing three entire provinces and a specialized commandery. In the event of an all-out mobilization, supplemented by regional provincial detachments and wartime conscripts, that number could easily skyrocket to three hundred thousand in a matter of days.

The critical factor was that these massive reinforcements from the surrounding provinces and the commandery had not yet converged. This precise variable was what had driven Il-mok and the Deputy Commander to abandon a stationary defense in favor of an aggressive advance following their strategic meeting. If they allowed themselves to be trapped in Lanzhou while the disparate provincial armies united, the situation would spiral entirely out of their control.

Naturally, to an ordinary man like Tak Ju-gang, even a force of eighty thousand felt like an immeasurable ocean of death. Yet despite the terror paralyzing his mind, his rebellious legs refused to halt, continuing their forward stride in lockstep with the rhythm of the hymns. He internally begged for the movement to cease.

As if his silent prayer had been granted, the deep, commanding resonance of war drums echoed across the plain, causing the forward ranks to grind to a halt one after the other. Tak Ju-gang could sense the immediate proximity of the opposing army. In reality, a distance of roughly one li separated the two massive hosts—a gap wide enough to ensure that standard projectiles and primitive artillery pieces could not effectively find their marks.

Then, a alternative pattern of drumbeats sounded, causing the units nearby to pivot and create an opening. Moving in accordance with the shifting formation, he managed to catch a glimpse of the front through the parted lines. A group of mounted figures emerged from their ranks, advancing to a central position in the neutral ground between the two waiting armies.

Following this, the voice of the Deputy Commander, amplified by an immense expenditure of internal energy, boomed across the open field.

“Armies exist to protect the empire! So why does the Inspector General turn blades on the people!!”

A visible ripple of murmurs passed through the enemy ranks at the sound of this accusation, and it was not long before a booming retort echoed back.

“Crushing rebels is the army’s duty too!!!”

Owing to his position near the front of the formation, Tak Ju-gang could distinctly identify the powerful voice emanating from the core of the opposing force.

“Is blindly following the orders of vile eunuchs who care nothing for the people’s lives truly the army’s role!!”

Following this initial trade of ideologically charged insults between the Deputy Commander and the Inspector General, an aggressive, piercing shout interrupted the parley.

“You bastard!! How dare a mere Deputy Commander insult him!!”

The Deputy Commander immediately fired back with a deafening roar:

“Look at that arrogant eunuch beside the Inspector General! What you follow isn’t His Majesty’s command-it’s that treacherous eunuch Tai Gonggong’s!!”

Listening to the verbal warfare from his vantage point, Tak Ju-gang found himself nodding in silent agreement. He rationalized that it was indeed the corruption of the court eunuchs that had brought ruin to the realm, and that their malice was the sole reason he had taken up arms. Yet, despite repeating these rationalizations internally to bolster his courage, his body refused to stop shivering. He couldn’t shake the despairing thought of what an insignificant individual like himself could possibly hope to alter in the grand scheme of things.

Attempting to steady his breathing, Tak Ju-gang looked around, only for his despair to deepen. The expressions of the soldiers surrounding him were just as fraught with visible panic. Now that the unifying sound of the hymns had fallen silent, the raw terror they had managed to suppress under the mask of religious fervor threatened to completely overwhelm their minds.

“Those treacherous eunuchs toy with the court, exploiting and slaughtering the people!!”

At this point, only the persistent proclamations of the Deputy Commander served as a fragile anchor keeping the men from losing their sanity entirely. Tak Ju-gang internally pleaded for the truth of their cause to prevail, hoping the opposing soldiers would see the evil of the eunuchs and join their ranks.

However, the commander of the hostile force instantly shattered any lingering illusions of a peaceful resolution.

“Nothing you say changes a thing!! Joining hands with the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, branded traitors two hundred years ago!! Calling on foreign powers for peace-how absurd!!”

Before the Deputy Commander could formulate a counter-argument, the opposition moved decisively, as though they considered any further dialogue an absolute waste of time. The entire enemy host began to move forward in a synchronized, disciplined advance, keeping their tactical layout perfectly intact.

“Charge!!”

Gaps materialized within the enemy rows as specialized cavalry detachments broke away from various sectors, accelerating into a full-scale assault.

“Slaughter the rebel vermin!”

The mounted commanders spearheaded the charge with ferocious speed, focusing their trajectory directly toward the position of the Deputy Commander to end the conflict swiftly.

The manifestation of absolute mortality was racing directly toward them.

The devoted followers, who had previously marched toward their potential demise completely intoxicated by spiritual music, were abruptly snapped out of their psychological trance. Pure, unadulterated terror gripped their bodies, leaving them entirely paralyzed. Tak Ju-gang desperately willed his muscles to react, wanting nothing more than to sprint away from the oncoming onslaught, but his feet remained firmly rooted to the earth. Frozen in place, they could do nothing but await the arrival of death.

Suddenly, an array of bewildered exclamations began to rise from various points along the line.

“Huh…?”

Caught up in the sudden shift in atmosphere, Tak Ju-gang forced his eyes forward. He was utterly confused by what he saw. Young Master Il-mok, the accompanying women, and the Deputy Commander had not broken formation; they remained precisely where they stood. The enemy vanguard was practically upon them, making their destruction seem entirely guaranteed. He briefly wondered if the leadership had succumbed to the same paralyzing fear that held the infantry captive.

As that absurd thought crossed his mind, the motionless figure of Young Master Il-mok deliberately raised both of his arms, extending them out toward the oncoming threat. Along the path of his outstretched limbs, a collection of spherical, bead-like energy constructs materialized, drifting forward with a strange, unhurried grace.

“Taiji?’

Amidst an environment saturated with the scent of impending slaughter, this remarkably serene and detached phenomenon instantly captivated Tak Ju-gang’s complete attention.

Then, at the exact millisecond the enemy cavalry made contact with their position, the low, resonant voice of Young Master Il-mok cut through the ambient noise, striking his ears with absolute clarity.

“Perish.”

Zzzzap!!

An explosive sound, reminiscent of a massive flock numbering thousands of birds taking flight simultaneously, tore through the space. The entire environment was instantaneously consumed by a blinding flash of illumination. The sheer concussive force and overwhelming brilliance of the event compelled Tak Ju-gang to violently press his palms against his ears and clamp his eyelids shut.

Once he judged that he was at a safe enough distance from the point of impact, he gradually opened his eyes to assess the aftermath.

“Ah…?”

The vocalization did not originate from him. A nearby soldier had let out an involuntary gasp of pure disbelief, a sentiment that Tak Ju-gang shared entirely.

In the exact space where a terrifying wave of martial destruction had been charging mere seconds ago, absolutely nothing remained. Only Young Master Il-mok and his immediate circle continued to exist and draw breath, whereas the hundreds of heavily armored cavalrymen who had led the assault had been instantaneously converted to microscopic particles, vanishing completely from the face of the earth.

Gulp.

Tak Ju-gang swallowed hard against his dry throat. His chest was heaving, and his heart was hammering against his ribs with an intensity that felt as though it might rupture his chest wall.

But this sensation was no longer driven by terror.

‘Ahhh…’

It was the profound, overwhelming reverence of an individual witnessing the manifestation of a deity.

Young Master Il-mok had commanded the very essence of light itself, fundamentally reshaping the reality of the battlefield. He was the literal embodiment of illumination—a force capable of utterly eradicating malevolence and ushering in an entirely uncharted epoch. For this was no longer a mundane geopolitical dispute; it was a righteous war executed with the divine standing directly at their side.

With a god actively participating in their ranks, there was no longer any logical foundation for anxiety. It was an enterprise that simply could not result in defeat.

“Entire army.”

The voice of the divine entity resonated across the plain, instantly shattering the psychological shackles of panic that had restricted the movements of the vulnerable flock.

“Charge.”

Obeying the absolute decree issued by Young Master Il-mok, the entire host erupted into a singular, deafening battle cry.

“Heavenly Demon descends!!”

“Ten thousand demons roar!!!”