Chapter 431 : The Season of Harvest (3)

While ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍Yangmuja was going on his rampage, Namgung Jin had already hauled himself back onto his feet and was now squaring off against Il-mok and Jeok Ri-gang.

He ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍looked pathetic. He'd been rolling across the dirt long enough that his hair was a matted mess, and his whole body caked in filth and blood. The arrogant bearing he normally carried himself with was nowhere to be found. What was left was just fury.

Truthfully, ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍there was only one reason Namgung Jin was even still breathing.

Neither ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Jeok Ri-gang nor Il-mok were using their lethal moves on him.

Since ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍these two man couldn't fully trust each other yet, they were each keeping their footing solid and sticking to moves that left them ready for a surprise attack from the other. As a result, their combined attacks were a mess.

That ‍​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍said, an imperfect joint assault was still more than enough to grind Namgung Jin down.

Jeok Ri-gang alone was a master on par with Namgung Jin, and Il-mok's skills were certainly not lagging behind either. In fact, he was certain that Il-mok was the strongest among them.

The wretchedness of his own situation made him explode in anger.

"I'll kill every last one of you!!"

He executed the Sword Form of the Emperor again, and a fierce wave of Qi burst outward from him to bear down on both Il-mok and Jeok Ri-gang.

Unfortunately for him, they had already seen him use this same move a dozen times.

"What an idiot."

To Il-mok, watching Namgung Jin stubbornly spam the same ultimate attack over and over was genuinely laughable. Il-mok channeled the Qi of the Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword and drove his blade forward to meet the assault head-on.

BOOM!!

The Sword Force clashing between the two blades sent a thunderous shockwave rolling outward. Jeok Ri-gang lunged forward and thrust his spear straight through Namgung Jin's ribs.

Squelch.

"Ugh…."

As Namgung Jin let out a strangled groan from the impact, his guard crumbled. Without missing a single beat, Il-mok's Ascension Sword came sweeping in toward his unguarded neck.

Slick.

The head of a man who had spent his whole life convinced he and his kind were the best of the best slipped from his shoulders and hit the ground.

His eyes stayed open, as if he still couldn't bring himself to accept his death.

Il-mok stared down at the dead eyes for a split second before entirely dismissing the man from his mind.

Jin Hayeon had been holding Yangmuja on her own this whole time, and he was about to help her.

But as it turned out, he didn't need to.

Thud.

When he looked over, he caught the sight of Jin Hayeon's palm slamming into Yangmuja’s heart.

Il-mok found it a little puzzling that she'd managed to put Yangmuja down but this was hardly the time to ask questions.

"All forces, advance!!"

With his roar, his soldiers charge into the enemy’s line.

It’s time for him to feed the Ascension Sword.

***

Roughly two hours later, the battle was over.

After Yangmuja and Namgung Jin went down, it had been less of a battle and more of a one-sided slaughter. The enemy command had clearly sensed that something had gone very wrong and issued a retreat order, but unlike the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's forces, the enemy troops couldn't hold formation under pressure. While this was partly because the Divine Cult had poured efforts into retreat drills with the Divine Monk in mind from the very beginning, the greater reason was the devastating impact of three masters running rampant through their ranks.

While Il-mok was receiving reports on the casualty count and the status of the prisoners they had captured after claiming a massive victory, the blood-drenched Battle King walked over to him.

"Well? Not too bad, wouldn't you say?"

He had clearly come over to secure his payout and cement his merit.

"Thanks to your efforts, we kept our losses to a minimum."

Il-mok acknowledged it plainly, and Jeok Ri-gang grinned. "Glad to hear it. Then maybe trust me a little more next time, yeah?"

He was referring to their joint assault on Namgung Jin earlier, and the awkward footing they'd been on throughout it.

Il-mok grinned back.

"Isn't the feeling mutual?"

"Ha! Yeah, fair enough."

With no apparent interest in arguing the point, Jeok Ri-gang let out a hearty laugh and headed off toward a quieter corner of the battlefield to rest. Il-mok watched him go for a moment, then turned to the maids at his side.

"You worked hard out there as well."

"We o-only did what we had to do."

"We're sorry we couldn't be of more help."

Their modest deflection was such a stark contrast to Jeok Ri-gang's swagger that Il-mok couldn't help but let out a laugh. "Come on. Let's get this battlefield cleaned up."

Leading by example, Il-mok personally walked the blood-soaked fields and began to collect their wounded comrades with his maids beside him to help.

With Il-mok leading and everyone who wasn't badly hurt pitching in, they spent the rest of the day cycling between working through the cleanup and grabbing rest where they could. By the time they finished moving the wounded to the rear and looting usable gear from the dead enemies, they piled the corpses and set them on fire before rot set in.

That’s when a messenger arrived at Il-mok's camp.

When word reached him that a messenger had come, the first thing that crossed Il-mok's mind was this.

‘Time to relocate again.’

The Divine Cult's key fighters had been moving every time their positions were pinpointed. The idea was to keep the enemy command off-balance and prevent the opposing Divine Monk from picking them off one by one.

But soon after, Il-mok realized that something was off.

‘I only sent a messenger out after the battle ended yesterday, yet relocation orders have already come down?’

Just as Il-mok suspected, the contents of the missive brought by the messenger were not orders to relocate.

"...The Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal fell?"

"Yes, Left Guardian."

The Beggars’ Gang member serving as messenger answered with a look of devastation on his face.

"That monster Hyeon Am revealed his disguise at the last possible moment. The unit being led by the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal and the Beggar King was suddenly thrown into panic by the situation.”

"If he had moved according to Head of the Zhuge Family's instructions, the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal at least shouldn't have fallen."

"T-That's because... Elder Immortal refused to run. He said he couldn't stomach the sight of innocent men dying just to cover his retreat. He burned away his Innate Life Force and faced the Divine Monk alone.”

"..."

Il-mok didn't need to ask for the details to know exactly how that fight ended.

Even with the boost from the Innate Life Force, the Supreme Ultimate Sword Immortal wasn’t a match for the Divine Monk.

To put it bluntly, he had chosen suicide because he could no longer bear watching common soldiers and weaker fighters get cut down as human shields in his place.

Logically, Il-mok knew that what the late Sword Immortal had done was nothing but a foolish act. But he had no desire to condemn the man for it, because he felt the same pull himself.

Far too many innocent people were already dying in this war.

‘Fuck.’

The victory he'd carved out killing Namgung Jin and Yangmuja lost all its luster in the span of a single day.

After quietly reading Il-mok's expression, the messenger continued.

"There's also word that enemy forces are advancing from the Hunan direction. They're conscripts pulled from provinces under the Central Military Command's jurisdiction. Reports put their numbers at one hundred thousand."

Il-mok clenched his fists so hard to the point it almost bled before calming himself and swallowing the sigh that threatened to escape his mouth.

It wasn't the number that frightened him.

Those hundred thousand people were most likely men who had never properly grip weapon and shield in their entire lives. Their might was nothing to be feared with the Divine Cult’s current power.

What was unbearable for him was the thought of having to slaughter a hundred thousand ordinary civilians who'd never asked to be here.

The maids at his side must have caught something in his expression, because they were watching him with undisguised worry.

"Left Guardian..."

"Big Brother..."

Seon-ah even dropped the formality and used the affectionate title she had been withholding for months.

Sensing the Heart Demon was about to rear its ugly head, Il-mok drew in a slow breath before letting it out.

He gave a faint smile to his maids. "Don't worry. I'm not thinking anything stupid."

There was no way to avoid a fight against a force of a hundred thousand soldiers. Surrender was technically an option, but it was the stupidest one on the table. The moment the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult laid down its arms, everything they had built would collapse, and the Imperial Family would slaughter everyone who'd thrown their lot with them.

What actually burned in his chest wasn't fear. It was fury at the Supreme Eunuch's cruelty for pushing a hundred thousand blameless people into battlefields and using them as arrow fodder.

‘I need to get stronger. Strong enough to put an end to this war of attrition caused by that hypocrite monk.’

While Il-mok was turning that resolve over in his mind, the messenger raised his voice carefully.

"Ah, there is one more piece of news..."

The second the words left his mouth, the maids shot the messenger murderous glares. The beggar had been delivering nothing but catastrophic news all day; the girls were terrified that one more tragedy would push Il-mok into Qi Deviation.

Startled out of his wits by their glares, the messenger hurriedly shouted.

"I-it's good news this time! J-Just as those bastards have conscripted a grand army of one hundred thousand, there is news that reinforcements are coming to our side as well!"

"Reinforcements? Don't tell me Chief Strategist Zhuge went behind our backs and started forcefully drafting civilians from the rear territories too?" Asked Il-mok with a startled expression.

"What?! No, absolutely not!" The messenger shook his head frantically. "They volunteered! Every one of them!"

Volunteers.

Hearing the word reminded Il-mok of the scene where Jeok Ri-gang showed up at his camp while waving a piece of paper at him.

Looks like the season of harvest for the propaganda campaign has begun.

***

The propaganda posters and flyers that had begun production under Il-mok's orders since the period when they were preparing for war.

Following Il-mok's direct orders, Baek Cheon had commissioned artists from Pingliang County to create them.

From there, the propaganda exploded outward, starting from Lanzhou and rapidly sweeping across the entire province of Gansu. 

Il-mok had specifically hired the women, the elderly, and orphans to manually copy the text and trace the drawings so that the most vulnerable civilians have a reliable way to put food on their tables.

"That's right! We have received so much grace from the Maitreya Luminous Cult... no, the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult over the years!  We owe them our lives; it's time we paid off that debt!"

"Damn right! Who do you think forced us into poverty in the first place? It’s those corrupt eunuch bastards!"

"Let's change the world and paint it with the color of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!"

(TL Note: Oh, the horror! Il-mok would have a stroke if he heard this lol)

A handful of young men with fire in their hearts started making their own way to Lanzhou to enlist.

In this manner, the flyers and posters manually copied by the women, the elderly, and the children all across Gansu began to spread beyond its borders, reaching into Xinjiang, Qinghai, Tibet, northern Sichuan, and Shaanxi.

Of all the places they reached, the loudest response by far came from Xinjiang. It had been under the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's influence for over two hundred years, and the number of people stepping forward to enlist was anything but small.

On top of the initial ten thousand recruits who had already come to Lanzhou for basic training, new volunteers began steadily making their way to Gansu in a growing stream.

The same groundswell was happening in Tibet too, though it was somewhat less fervent than in Xinjiang.

"We owe them a debt we have to repay."

"Have you forgotten how the Han Dynasty has oppressed us all these years? This is our chance to teach those Han bastards a lesson alongside the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult!"

The common people of Tibet had spent more than a decade suffering under the corruption of the Left and Right Great Virtuous Ones of the Potala Palace before they were saved. They hadn't forgotten what they owed Il-mok and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, and on top of that, there was no shortage of resentment toward Han Dynasty soldiers who had been crossing the border to cause trouble whenever it suited them.

But not everyone volunteered purely out of loyalty or gratitude.

The people of Shaanxi Province were a prime example of this.

When the flyers first circulated through Xi'an, the reaction was lukewarm at best.

What finally sparked the fire in Shaanxi wasn't the propaganda; it was wounded soldiers left by the Divine Cult.

Back when Il-mok was commanding the defensive siege in Ankang, those who suffered injuries in the battles against the Central Military Command were occasionally carried to Xi'an for medical treatment.

And the men who survived after receiving treatment would preach testimonies that stemmed from the very bottom of their hearts.

"The Left Guardian is Divine, I tell you! He is the Envoy of God!”

"With one wave of his hand, tens of thousands of enemy soldiers would turn to ash!”

"God stands with us! How could we possibly lose?!"

Testimonies inflating Il-mok's martial arts by a factor of hundreds rapidly flooded the city streets.

"You see this scar? I took an arrow to the knee and I'm still here to talk about it!"

"The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult's medicine is beyond anything in this world! You can practically come back from the dead, so what is there to be afraid of?"

Objectively speaking, even with all of their advancements, the Divine Cult's medical technology was still medieval garbage compared to 21st-century medicine.

In reality, five out of ten critically wounded patients still lost their lives.

But when you consider that the standard of this era was that nine out of ten would have died, five surviving felt nothing short of miraculous to the people who witnessed it.

Some of Shaanxi's population started to warm up as the rumors about Il-mok and the Divine Cult's medicine continued to spread.

"If it's a war we're going to win anyway, why not get in on it?"

"If we get lucky and score some military merit, we'll be rich! Our lives will be set!"

"I had no idea how I was going to make a living anyway, so this is actually for the best! From what I hear, they provide exactly three meals a day without fail!"

The same wave was rolling through Qinghai too, albeit at a slower pace than in Shaanxi. Driven by the lingering influence the Maitreya Luminous Cult had once held there, and by the accounts of those who had seen Il-mok's power firsthand when the Gansu army crushed the Qinghai forces, more and more recruits start to trickle in.

And just like that, an unprecedented tidal wave of volunteers erupted from Xinjiang, Tibet, Gansu, Qinghai, and Shaanxi.

Some marched to repay the grace that the Divine Cult had given them. Some marched out of pure hatred for the Han Dynasty. And others just marched because they wanted to get rich and famous.

And so, from Xinjiang and Tibet, from Gansu and Qinghai, from every corner of Shaanxi, people started coming forward to enlist, each for their own reasons: to repay the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, to settle old grudges with the Han dynasty, or simply to carve out a better life for themselves. Their motivations were all over the place, but every one of them was headed to the same destination: Lanzhou, in Gansu Province, where the training camp Il-mok had prepared was waiting for them.

Their motivations were entirely different, but their compasses were all pointed in the same direction.

Lanzhou.

The seeds Il-mok had been quietly sowing since long before the war began were finally starting to sprout.