Chapter 402

Chapter 402: Chapter 402 – So? Did Someone Force You to Become the Heavenly Demon?

Chapter Title: Holy War (2)

A full year had nearly flown by since the campaign to dominate the steppes north of the Heavenly Myriad Mountains commenced, a venture undertaken on Wi Jin-hak’s commands after they pledged their allegiance to him.

Dokgo Ryong had effectively integrated the nomadic peoples across immense territories, incorporating lands previously held by the Oirat tribe alongside the commercial pathways Il-mok had established under the banner of the Maitreya Cult.

This success stemmed partially from the incomparable combat skills of Dokgo Ryong and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, but it was largely driven by the high efficiency of the strategies they put into practice.

An approach combining intimidation with incentives.

Once they broke their opponents’ spirit through displays of martial dominance, they distributed provisions to those who capitulated, provided medical care via physicians and healers, offered basic education, and disseminated the core beliefs of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

Instead of relying solely on harsh coercion, Dokgo Ryong presented concrete benefits.

At the beginning, various clans put up a fight, but as word of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult’s benevolence circulated throughout the steppes, the quantity of groups opting for capitulation over combat multiplied rapidly.

Naturally, this execution depended entirely on the structural blueprints provided by Il-mok and Wi Jin-hak. Had the campaign been left solely to Dokgo Ryong’s discretion, the reality would have looked vastly different.

He most likely would have invaded one settlement after another, battering them into involuntary consolidation, which would have united the steppe dwellers against him as a collective foe.

Furthermore, the assistance rendered by Il-mok played a monumental role in facilitating Dokgo Ryong’s rapid conquests.

Bondsmen of steppe heritage acquired during commercial dealings with the Huihui were re-educated—or rather, spiritually awakened—at various proselytizing stations. These newly converted individuals subsequently assisted Dokgo Ryong in propagating the doctrine.

Even when dealing with unfamiliar clans, persuasive efforts carried significantly greater influence when delivered by people who resembled the local population, rather than individuals clearly originating from Shin-gang or other distant regions.

“Every single time we encounter them, they drop their weapons and surrender—it is incredibly tedious!”

Because of the favorable reputation preceding the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, entire communities were giving up without a fight, causing Dokgo Ryong no shortage of annoyance.

“You spoke the truth, Grandfather! These days, some groups even approach our camps pleading to submit before we can even mount an offensive!”

Dokgo Pae, standing beside him, voiced his frustration in tandem with a heavy frown.

The nearby martial artists of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult could do little but shake their heads at the typical behavior of the Dokgo lineage.

Right as the hot-headed members of the Dokgo group were on the verge of losing their patience entirely,

A missive from Shin-gang reached them.

“Kuhahaha! At long last! The moment has arrived!”

The dispatch came directly from Wi Jin-hak, declaring that the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult was set to initiate a massive counter-offensive now that the Martial Alliance had branded the Maitreya Cult a public threat and commenced military operations against it.

Filled with excitement, Dokgo Ryong rushed back toward the primary base like a possessed man for several days, only to discover that the main army had already marched out.

Just as he was making arrangements to journey toward Qinghai to rendezvous with them, a secondary message from Wi Jin-hak reached him from Qinghai at the perfect moment.

“Kuhahaha! Truly, the Lord’s strategic foresight completely eclipses my own!”

The scope of the message extended far beyond simply eradicating the martial factions of the Central Plains—it laid the groundwork for open conflict against the forces of the imperial court.

It included explicit instructions to journey back up north, mobilize the steppe combatants, and assemble a formidable horse-mounted regiment for the impending clash.

Exhilarated by the prospect of devastating not only the sanctimonious figures of the righteous factions but also the ruling dynasty, Dokgo Ryong flew back toward the northern territories with incredible speed.

He did not stop at merely distributing mandates to his subordinates; he personally traveled from one clan settlement to the next to forcefully enlist able-bodied fighters.

While Dokgo Ryong was in excellent spirits organizing his horsemen,

A dispatch from Il-mok arrived from the region of Nanju.

Brought by a specialist from the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult highly skilled in infiltration, it had successfully evaded the security details along the northern borders.

The text inside was brief.

“The conflict begins!”

With his enthusiasm undiminished, Dokgo Ryong guided his cohort of approximately three thousand steppe horsemen toward the southern territories.

True to the details of the missive, the majority of the border checkpoints where guards used to maintain a vigilant watch were completely deserted.

They charged past the undefended boundary lines, galloping like demons, and at this exact instant, they had made landfall on the theater of war.

…

A force of three thousand horse-mounted fighters.

A meager sum when measured against the eighty thousand troops of Nanju, yet the psychological and physical shock of a cavalry charge vastly outweighed that of foot soldiers.

Particularly when dealing with steppe natives who spent their entire lives on horseback—the raw power of their mounted units defied calculation.

Granted, the detachments of the Western Army Inspectorate possessed ample experience dealing with steppe-style cavalry tactics.

Given the time to establish proper lines, they could effortlessly hold off a force of three thousand.

However, they were currently completely entangled in a fierce engagement with Nanju’s eighty thousand troops, leaving them with no strategic alignment ready to counter a sudden cavalry assault.

“Those fools are practically begging for execution!”

In high spirits, Dokgo Ryong urged his mount forward, unsheathed his colossal blade, and gestured toward the left wing of the Western Army Inspectorate.

Bulging outward in an attempt to box in Nanju’s primary force, that specific section appeared incredibly vulnerable and ripe for attack.

The three thousand mounted fighters trailed him directly toward that left wing.

“Release!”

The signature mounted archery techniques of the steppe warriors were displayed perfectly.

From a considerable distance while remaining firmly in their saddles, a torrent of arrows cascaded down upon the infantrymen of the left wing.

Pabababak.

“Aaack!”

“Projectiles! I’ve been hit in the leg!”

Caught completely off guard by a flank assault during their advance, the infantry units collapsed with no means of defense.

“Shield units! What in the world are the shield units doing?!”

“Get those barriers up immediately! Cover the infantry!”

Mid-tier commanding officers such as the baekho and cheonho shouted frantically.

“The left wing! Guard the left wing!”

The agile mounted archers continuously shifted their focus to fresh targets while maintaining their speed.

The twenty thousand soldiers comprising the left wing were thrown into chaos, prompting the deputy inspector to bellow out in desperation.

“Cavalry units! What is keeping you?! Ride them down!”

The horsemen of the Central Plains simply could not match the lifetime expertise of the steppe natives. Furthermore, the cavalry attached to his own wing numbered barely a thousand riders.

He was fully aware they were at an extreme disadvantage.

‘Confound it. Even if our mounted units are wiped out, we absolutely must establish a solid defensive line.’

If they failed to do so, they would simply be picked apart and destroyed by the three thousand attackers. This represented the lesser of two disasters.

His command filtered down to the mounted regiment, signaling horns echoed across the field, and they swept forward to engage the steppe forces—or so it seemed to the observing deputy inspector.

Only after watching the immediate aftermath unfold did he comprehend, far too late, that he had chosen the path of total ruin.

The officer leading the opposing cavalry line was cut completely in half alongside his mount at the very front of the charge.

Seogeok!

In the middle of the roaring chaos of the battlefield, that sickening sound registered clearly with the deputy inspector.

“Kuhahaha!”

Right after, a thunderous burst of laughter drowned out every other sound on the field.

The noise originated from an elderly warrior mounted on a massive dark horse, who had just cleaved the opposing leader in two with a single motion.

Not yet satisfied, the old man swung his massive blade in a non-stop arc, slicing through the left wing’s cavalry without a shred of leniency.

Following closely in his wake, more than a hundred horsemen surged forward into the gap.

These were the members of the Dokgo family and the elites of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult who closely followed Dokgo Ryong.

They tore through the thousand-man cavalry unit like a localized tempest.

Dokgo Ryong in particular, operating at the absolute front, cut through the ranks with effortless fluidity—absolutely no one could halt the trajectory of his weapon.

Seogeok!

While Dokgo Ryong and his direct kin dismantled the opposing horsemen, the remaining steppe fighters continued their assault.

“Release!”

Pababak!

“Hold the line! Keep them back, I command you!”

As the defensive cavalry force disintegrated into useless ruin, the deputy inspector could do nothing but voice futile commands.

Meanwhile, the opposing forces observed the northern developments and altered their tactical alignment.

A segment of the troops who had been mindlessly rushing toward the primary body of the Inspectorate veered off to strike the left wing.

Assailed by steppe archers from the side and struck head-on by the primary strength of the enemy, their attempt to encircle the foe had inverted into a catastrophic bottleneck for themselves.

“Confound it. Confound it all to hell.”

As the deputy inspector spat out desperate oaths in his state of shock, his secondary officer called out in extreme urgency.

“Deputy Inspector! Direct your gaze over there!”

Pivoting in response to the exclamation, the deputy inspector’s features contorted into a mask of pure horror.

Their thousand-strong cavalry detachment had been systematically reduced to less than half its original number.

“Kuhahaha!”

And that terrifying elderly figure on the dark horse was currently changing direction, executing a solo charge directly toward the main body of the flank.

Completely by himself.

A short while prior to the clash.

“Kuhahaha!”

The echoing sound of distant laughter brought a subtle grin to the face of Deputy Commander Yang Gwang as he integrated with the primary army.

“They have finally made their entrance.”

The auxiliary forces whose arrival had only been mentioned to him in passing.

He had previously received word from Il-mok indicating that a cavalry contingent from the northern territories would arrive to assist them.

Even so, a persistent thread of worry had remained in his mind.

There was no dependable method of instant communication.

Sending updates required physical messengers, and there simply had been no opportunity to exchange tactical dispatches with the approaching northern horsemen.

Attempting to employ signal fires or flare indicators carried the immense risk of revealing their hidden tactical positions to the enemy.

Ultimately, they had no choice but to place their trust in the pre-arranged timing of the relief forces.

Providentially, the assistance guaranteed by Il-mok had manifested at the precise moment it was required most.

“Shift the pikemen to the right flank! Bowmen, focus your fire on the enemy’s left wing situated to our right and let fly!”

Channeling his vocal commands with concentrated internal energy, the deputy commander began overseeing the maneuvers of the primary Nanju force.

“We will completely shatter the enemy’s left wing using this opening!”

His directives spread out instantly across the ranks as subordinate leaders passed the words down to the frontline combatants.

“Shield units, secure the area against the enemy’s right wing pushing from our left side! Simply maintain your ground! The primary mass and the left wing of the enemy forces are on the verge of collapsing!”

The deputy commander barked out instructions without a moment’s pause, his officers repeated them down the line, and the diverse collection of combatants executed the maneuvers with an unexpected degree of orderliness.

“Glory! Glory! Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!”

Repressing the slight discomfort he felt upon hearing the fanatical chants of the combatants, the deputy commander maintained his focus on the strategy.

Regardless of the intense, borderline manic bravery they displayed, death was still an constant reality.

“Kuaaaack!”

The sounds of agonizing shrieks and final groans from falling comrades filled the air continuously.

Even though the timely intervention of the cavalry provided a golden opportunity to hem in and completely wipe out the left wing, thereby capturing the absolute momentum of the battle, the price of success would be incredibly steep.

They were operating as insurgents, and this specific gathering of the Western Army Inspectorate represented merely a small fraction of the total forces they would eventually have to face.

Consequently, in an attempt to quiet his internal misgivings, the deputy commander turned his attention toward the front of the line.

Directly toward the main body of the opposing army. And toward the location where Young Master Il-mok had ventured.

‘Young Master Il-mok, I pray for your absolute success.’

In order to keep their own losses to an absolute minimum, it was imperative that Il-mok achieve his objectives with extreme speed.

Perhaps as an involuntary response to the mounting tension within his chest, he found himself unconsciously murmuring a familiar tune.

“Glo-ry, glory to the Heavenly Demon Di-vine Cult.”

In exact synchronization with the common soldiers whose voices resonated across the expanse of the battlefield.

Peculiarly, the heavy weight of his worry seemed to lighten just a bit.