Chapter 480 ·Fanatics (3)

A ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍frigid silence descended upon the conference hall.

Though ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Jong-ri Chu had not interpreted Il-mok's words, those present in the hall could intuitively sense the meaning behind them.

The ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍bodyguards of Herat likewise did not understand Il-mok's words, yet they did not move.

More ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍precisely, they were unable to move.

Before ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍they realized it, they too had been subdued by Il-mok's intent.

Meanwhile, ‍​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Abdallah who had been standing right beside them had his eyes wide open.

Because he was a warrior who had reached the realm of Muharib Azim, he was the only one among the Muslims present who could even vaguely grasp what Il-mok was doing.

Thanks to that, he understood.

This Grand Preceptor from the Hong Dynasty was demonstrating a miraculous technique he himself could not even dream of imitating.

‘Is this man really on the same level as my Master? He hasn't even reached thirty years of age?!’

No. He might even be a warrior who surpasses my Master.

Just as that blasphemous thought briefly surfaced in his mind, Abdallah hastily shook his head to shake off the shock.

"Grrghk."

The Lord of Herat finally reached his limit and began foaming at the mouth.

Only then did Il-mok withdraw the intent he had been directing at the Lord of Herat, and the man's body crumpled to the floor.

Abdallah cringed in disgust.

A foul stench of urine was emanating from the collapsed Lord of Herat's body.

Right on cue, Il-mok spoke with a bright smile.

"My. It seems the prolonged conference has left everyone quite exhausted. Shall we take a brief recess?"

After saying so, Il-mok spun on his heel and strolled out of the room before the smell could get any worse.

Only after his pressure disappeared entirely did the bodyguards of Herat rush to prop up their unconscious lord.

"My Lord!"

"P-please, come to your senses!"

Amid the chaos, not a single person reproached Il-mok or pointed out any discourtesy.

They had no idea what manner of black magic that man had employed, but they were certain of one thing now.

If they could get that monster fighting on their side, they could actually flip this entire war on its head.

Meanwhile, on the other side.

Even though Il-mok had just caused a scene in the council, neither Jong-ri Chu nor Jin Hayeon looked the least bit worried. And that was despite the fact that they were fully planning on allying with these people after confirming the verity of the information they’d gathered.

If anything, it was precisely because they intended to form an alliance that they agreed with this move.

Both Jin Hayeon and Jong-ri Chu had learned a harsh truth during their last war.

That relations between powers are ultimately determined by strength.

And peace is something won through force.

Alliance in name though it was, there existed no special bond of trust between these people and the Hong Dynasty.

In other words, it was necessary to make clear that their side held the upper hand even as allies.

They naturally assumed Il-mok had acted with precisely that aim in mind.

Their assumption was half correct.

Il-mok knew better than anyone in that room when it came to international politics.

The only reason a third World War didn't break out back in his past life was that international politics were too messy and interconnected.

But at the end of the day, the dynamics between nations were ultimately decided by strength.

The other half had simply been an emotional outburst.

‘I'm already in a foul mood, and you think you have the qualification to test me?’

Hell hath no fury like a man who just had his honeymoon canceled.

And so, the attitudes of the Islamic lords shifted considerably from that point onward.

They were suddenly bending over backward to be polite to him during the meetings, though he could easily catch a few of them sweating bullets trying to hide their terror of him.

But the funniest reaction belonged to the man who took the biggest brunt of his intent, the Lord of Herat.

Out of bruised pride, he'd still try to glare at Il-mok from across the room, but—

Flinch.

The moment Il-mok turned his head to meet his gaze, the Lord of Herat's face would turn white and he'd snap his head away like a traumatized Chihuahua.

Pfft.

When Il-mok let out a faint chuckle, the lord would only lower his head to avoid eye contact and sit there trembling with clenched fists.

Several days passed in this fashion while Il-mok and his crews continued their intelligence gathering.

Ohalak and James roamed the streets of Bukhara with an escort to collect whatever dirt they could find. But ironically, their most fruitful source of intelligence turned out to be none other than Ahmed Molk.

Even after that explosive meeting, Ahmed kept visiting Il-mok’s quarters with an entourage of lords favorably disposed toward the Hong Dynasty.

He would share a variety of information about the Brotherhood of Purity and the western empire for hours before taking his leave.

Obviously, 90% of what they shared was just trash talk. 

It was painfully obvious they were trying to butter Il-mok up so he'd join the war, but Il-mok let them be since they were not openly clinging to his trouser legs and maintained decorum.

One day, Il-mok posed a question to Ahmed Molk.

"This is purely out of curiosity, but why do you resist the empire so hard? Is it because of the sectarian differences you mentioned before? Or because of the taxes they would strip from you?"

Ahmed let out a sigh before answering. "The sectarian issue is part of it. But at the end of the day, we are fundamentally different from them."

"What exactly do you mean by different?"

"The East and the West were never of the same blood to begin with. The history of this region spans well over a thousand years, yet the period during which we were bound as one nation amounts to roughly a hundred years at most. We were separate nations for a millennium, yet merely because they ruled us for about a century, they behave as though this land was theirs all along. How could we simply accept that?"

Il-mok could understand what the man was saying.

‘Yeah, if the colonizers you just kicked out came knocking on your door again claiming they still owned you, you'd definitely start a war over it.’

While Il-mok was busy comparing the situation to his past life to the scenario of Japan reinvading Korea, Ahmed continued.

"The sectarian divide is also a problem. Most of those on the western side are madmen steeped in extremism."

"What makes you say that?"

Il-mok had suspected it might simply be regionalist slander, but there turned out to be a logical basis for it.

"The western side shares its border with those far-western followers of Jesus. You know, those deranged heretics who believed Jesus to be the Son of God rather than a prophet. That constant Holy War is the reason the western side has been forced to forge massive empires over the centuries, but those same heretics are also the reason every single one of those empires eventually collapsed."

"Hmm. When people who worship different gods share a border, war is bound to be frequent."

"Precisely. The problem is that after several empires collapsed and the western leaders suffered at the hands of those infidels, they began entertaining a deranged idea that if all Muslims were to unite as one, there would be no possibility of defeat against the western infidels."

"...And let me guess, that's why they keep trying to forcefully annex the East?"

Ahmed nodded at Il-mok's question.

"We merely share the same religion. Our cultures are different; our peoples are distinctly different. Yet they have repeatedly attacked this region indiscriminately and insisted that fellow Muslims ought to submit to them. It is nothing short of absurd. Muslim in name though they may be, they are madmen who twist the Quran to suit their own appetites."

Now that they were on the topic of religion, Ahmed got visibly fired up and started ranting a mile a minute.

"Take jihad, for instance. Originally, jihad referred to the struggle against one's inner desires. But they have gone so far as to call the act of spreading doctrine abroad a jihad, and they even insist that wars of conquest waged in Allah’s name qualify as jihad."

After practically preaching to Il-mok, Ahmed finally ran out of breath and chugged his tea.

Only once Ahmed appeared to have calmed somewhat did Jong-ri Chu interpret his words.

Il-mok listened quietly, and a wry smile appeared on his face.

"I had no idea jihad carried such a noble meaning. Mostly because your guys from the East tried to raid us a few times."

At Il-mok's pointed remark, Ahmed could only smile sheepishly, "Ahem. Every passage written in the Quran contains admirable teachings. It is simply that human greed ruins everything."

Seeing the sight of Ahmed speaking as though his own people were above such failings, Il-mok merely smiled and let it pass.

‘Well, at least they're better than the western side.’

It wasn't like he completely trusted the lords here, but if Ahmed's account was accurate, the west was an entirely different breed of trouble.

His thoughts drifted to the three Hashashin he had subdued several days prior.

Whereas the eyes of those who had attacked them in the East had overflowed with greed, the eyes of those Hashashin had contained nothing but madness.

‘You can buy off a greedy man, but you can't reason with a fanatic.’

***

Several days passed as they remained in Bukhara.

Soon, Ohalak and James delivered their report to Il-mok.

"We did our best, but most of what we found was largely the same."

"At the very least, it does not appear that Ahmed was telling us lies."

It became all the more certain that the Brotherhood of Purity was a deranged terrorist organization of fanatics, and that the empire's Sultan was a tyrant consumed by flames of conquest.

Yet, Il-mok wasn't about to just blindly throw his army into another war.

They are soldiers of the Hong Dynasty after all.

With his mind finally made up to join the war, Il-mok marched right back into the council room and started laying his conditions.

In exchange for sending reinforcements as an ally, he was going to bleed them dry for every possible concession he could get.

The one term Il-mok hammered hardest on was what the Hong Dynasty would obtain after the war's conclusion.

"Once the war is over, you must resume trade with our nation."

"Hahaha. We're allies fighting a war together! Of course we will. Consider it done."

"What welcome words indeed. The truth is, I raised this matter because our merchants were attacked on occasion during past trading expeditions. To prevent that, we’ll need a designated safe zone inside your borders where our merchants can rest easy. Specifically, a zone that the soldiers of the Hong Dynasty could guard on their own.”

Translation: he was going to build an embassy, and he was demanding full extraterritorial immunity for them.

"So you are saying you wish to station Hong Dynasty's soldiers within the territory of our coalition?"

Predictably, Ma’mun and the rest of the lords looked like they'd just swallowed a lemon.

"Do not worry. It's strictly for the protection of our diplomats and merchants.”

But regardless of how uncomfortable they looked, Il-mok wasn't backing down an inch on the embassy or the immunity.

After hours of intense arguing, the meeting ended in stalemate.

But the very next morning...

"After extensive deliberation, we have decided to accept the conditions the Grand Preceptor has put forth."

Out of nowhere, Ma’mun just caved and agreed to everything.

With his objectives achieved, Il-mok gave the signal to call in his army.

And two days later.

Il-mok and the Islamic lords were standing out by the city gates when the forty-thousand-strong army finally appeared on the horizon.

Thud. Thud. Thud.

Their footsteps hammered the earth in a perfectly uniform rhythm.

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!”

"He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored.”

In time with their marching, the soldiers belted out hymn after hymn at the top of their lungs.

Even though they had been told they would soon be marching to the battlefield, not a trace of unease could be found in their eyes.

Instead, there was a conviction of victory in their steps.

And beyond that, something that bordered on madness glittered in the soldiers' eyes.

Watching his elite army march into view, Il-mok couldn't help but chuckle.

"Counterfeit fanatics made with drugs couldn't even hold a candle to them."

True fanatics forged not through reliance on narcotics, but through nothing more than pure faith.

And those fanatics had finally arrived to unleash hell upon the battlefields of the Islamic world.