Chapter 490 ·The Advance (1)

Several days had passed since the battle with the Khalas Empire’s forces.

As usual, Il-mok left the residence to take a stroll through Andkhoy.

Hymns of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult were ringing out from every corner of the city.

‘Don't they ever get tired of it?’

As he walked with that thought in mind, the local residents of Andkhoy noticed him and quickly stepped aside. They clearly still feared him, but they were no longer simply paralyzed by terror.

“T-thank you for saving us.”

A few even offered their thanks in clumsy Central Plains speech.

It seemed they had picked up some of the language from the soldiers over the past few days. 

To Il-mok’s surprise, the people of Andkhoy were gradually beginning to mingle with the soldiers of the Hong Dynasty. That was partly because the soldiers had rescued them from the clutches of the extremists, but also due to the preaching that had taken place over the past several days.

The Hong soldiers had been working hard to drill one point into them.

The Heavenly Demon was not some evil god who demanded human sacrifices or killed people indiscriminately.

As Il-mok continued his walk, he spotted something strange.

“I’ve got peace like a river~”

“I’ve got peace like a river~”

He was used to hearing it by now, but the crazy part was that a bunch of the local Muslims were actually singing along.

What was supposed to be a quick public service announcement to clear up a misunderstanding had somehow snowballed into a full-scale religious conversion.

“Isn’t it a lovely sight?” Jin Hayeon beamed as she walked beside him.

Il-mok gave an awkward smile in return. “I-it is indeed.”

Il-mok wasn't so sure that watching a bunch of people get brainwashed by a cult could really be called a lovely sight.

But there was a much bigger elephant in the room.

"I always thought Muslims were strictly against other religions. Never in my wildest dreams did I think they’d be out here learning our hymns."

“Grand Preceptor, you are being modest again.”

Il-mok smiled bitterly at her words.

‘Muslims converting to a different religion? Is that even humanly possible?’

With his memories of the modern world intact, Il-mok found the sight impossible to understand.

Just then, Jong-ri Chu nearby spoke to clear his misunderstanding. “That may be true if we are talking about the extremists in the Khalas Empire. But these people here aren’t nearly as prejudiced as those fanatics in the west.”

“...Is that so?”

Old school Muslims? Not xenophobic?

Il-mok swallowed the rest of the question and asked again.

“Why is that?”

“To begin with, the eastern regions here were not originally Muslim territories. Some areas were inhabited by nomads who worshipped Tngri, while other regions followed a religion with the peculiar name of the Fire-Worshipping Faith, also known as Zoroastrianism.”

Thanks to his years of running trade routes through the region, Jong-ri Chu was practically a walking encyclopedia of local history.

“It was only after the old Islamic Caliphate unified this region that the faith really took root here. And even after the Caliphate collapsed, the rulers of the various regions continued using its doctrines to govern the people. That is why the Islamic faith eventually became as firmly established here as it is today.”

Il-mok had also traveled through the region for nearly two years, but he had never bothered to look into its history. He had possessed no interest whatsoever in the history or culture of the Islamic faith.

“In the east especially, there are many cultures where their original folk beliefs, Zoroastrianism, and nomadic faiths have blended heavily with Islamic doctrine. I suspect this may be one of the differences between the Empire and the coalition here.”

Jong-ri Chu’s explanation naturally brought to mind the information Il-mok had heard in Bukhara.

Hadn't they mentioned the west was packed to the brim with extremists? 

The people in Bukhara just chalked it up to the westerners going crazy from fighting Europe all the time. But Jong-ri Chu was breaking it down from a high-level cultural standpoint.

"So basically, the folks in the east aren't hardcore fundamentalists who only follow the book to the letter?"

“Exactly. With their old traditions mixed into their Islam, the extremists probably look at them as pure heretics."

Il-mok turned his head again and slowly surveyed the people of Andkhoy.

‘Did I get blinded by prejudice?’

He could not be sure.

It wasn't like he ever paid attention to Islamic history in his past life.

‘Or is it simply because this is a different era?’

Who knew?

Maybe give it a few hundred years, and this place would get swallowed up by extremism too.

Whatever the truth, some of the residents were gradually beginning to associate with the soldiers of the Hong Dynasty.

As Il-mok watched them, a wild idea suddenly popped into his head.

‘Wait a minute. Could we actually pull off missionary work here?’

It was a possibility he had never once considered since coming to the Western Regions.

Right at that moment, Il-mok happened to lock eyes with one of the locals.

The man’s face went pale, and he immediately lowered his head.

Il-mok let out a dry chuckle.

‘Well, it certainly won’t happen overnight.’

***

Several days later, at the imperial palace in Baghdad.

“Amir Zayd has fallen in battle?”

Sultan Muhammad was so stunned by the report that he could not even muster the energy to be angry.

He merely muttered the words in a defeated voice.

But the subordinate delivering the report knew very well that this was only the warning sign of a coming storm.

Watching the Sultan’s expression, he cautiously added, “T-that is correct, Your Highness.”

Just as he had expected, the Sultan’s face immediately went red from rage.

“Damn it! Send out an imperial edict at once! Order them to wipe out every one of those accursed infidels!”

As the Sultan screamed his lungs out, a middle-aged man standing quietly in the shadows finally stepped forward.

“Your Highness, those filthy infidels deserve death. However, I believe we should delay the attack.”

The Sultan glared at him like he wanted the man dead.

Yet he could not order the man’s execution.

The man was the most reliable shield at the Sultan’s side and the one who had protected him through every crisis.

“Tell me why you believe that. If your reasoning is unsound, I will not forgive you for this discourtesy.”

“It is because of the infidels in the west. Our spies just reported that those western infidels were holding a conference. The time available for us to attack the east is growing short. I believe our immediate priority should be to break through the front along the Amu River and complete the occupation of Bukhara.”

Seeing the man successfully calm the Sultan's fury, the messenger in black quickly jumped in to help.

“A-according to the messenger sent by the Grand General, the fall of Merv is also only a matter of time. I-I am certain that the Grand General will soon send us news of victory.”

With his two closest retainers attempting to restrain him, the Sultan could only tremble in rage.

Then he spoke. “Fine! Every new recruit we draft from now on goes straight to the northern and central fronts! And draft an edict for the Grand General! Tell him I expect him to cross the Amu River and take Bukhara immediately, and that I won't take no for an answer!"

***

The sun began to set, and something unique happened near the walls of Andkhoy.

“Whew.”

Wiping the beads of sweat from their foreheads, the residents of Andkhoy took a breather alongside the Hong soldiers they had been helping to repair the walls.

"Looks like we're finally done with the heavy lifting."

“Indeed. It's a miracle the Empire hasn't sent another wave yet."

"Man, if life could just stay this quiet, I'd be a happy guy. Hahaha."

“This too must be thanks to Allah’s protection.”

They were chatting quietly in the local language when a young man suddenly muttered, “Then what are we supposed to do now?”

“What do you mean? Now that the work is done, we can rest.”

"The wall's fixed, so shouldn't we go see if the Hong people need help with anything else? We only get to sit here breathing because they put their lives on the line for us. To put it bluntly, isn’t this the Heavenly Demon’s protection rather than Allah’s?”

The young man’s blunt remark brought an abrupt silence to the area.

A moment later, an old man barked at him in outrage.

“Blasphemy! A man who abandons his faith is a dead man walking! How can you turn your back on Allah merely because you received a little help? I know you are young, but you can’t be this foolish!”

The young man snorted at the old man’s rebuke. "Losing our faith isn't going to kill us. Our faith is the reason we almost died! Get a grip, old man."

"Y-You ungrateful little punk! You dare talk back?!"

"Old man, look around! Who was trying to kill us yesterday?! Was it the Hong army or the Empire?! Those who believe in the same Allah as we do tried to kill us, while those who believe in the Heavenly Demon protected us! You tell me now who we're supposed to follow!"

Normally, the strict local culture would mean a kid getting smacked for talking back to an elder. 

But now he was arguing against him without the slightest hesitation.

The old man’s pride was wounded, and his face turned bright red. He looked around, fully expecting the rest of the people to back him up and put this disrespectful punk in his place.

Yet, everyone nearby quietly averted their eyes.

They had lived their entire lives as Muslims, so they could not bring themselves to openly defend the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

But in their hearts, they were thinking much the same thing as the young man.

The old man’s lack of support did not discourage him.

Instead, he grew even angrier.

“Y-you fools! You must have the Devil whispering to your ears! How can you just throw away your lifelong faith like it's nothing?!"

He was determined to set things straight until they came to their senses.

Seeing him foam at the mouth, the young man just let out a tired sigh.

“Haa.”

He had realized that there was no point trying to reason with the old man.

He was just as blind and stubborn as the extremists who had tried to kill them.

“If the doctrine matters so much to you, then leave the city and join the Empire right now. I’m going to follow the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, even if it’s only because I want to survive.”

After saying all the things he wanted to say, the young man turned his back on the old man and walked away.

He was headed for a place somewhere inside Andkhoy.

At this time each day, the people of the Hong Dynasty gathered there to teach the doctrines and hymns of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.

“Y-you insolent brat! Where do you think you’re going while your elder is still speaking?”

While the old man continued to rage, most of the people nearby followed the young man.

They crossed the streets of Andkhoy and soon arrived at a place where a crowd had gathered.

"Hey, did you guys run late on the wall repairs?”

Someone who had arrived earlier asked the question.

The young man merely shrugged like it was no big deal. “Something came up.”

They exchanged brief greetings and took their seats.

Once the crowd settled in, someone stepped up to the platform.

This time, it was James rather than Jong-ri Chu.

Anyone in the Divine Cult who spoke the local language took turns standing at the podium to preach or share their personal testimony.

It was a surprisingly effective approach.

On one side, you had a man like Jong-ri Chu who was born and raised in the Divine Cult and even managed to become the late Heavenly Demon’s disciple. On the other hand, you had men like James and Ohalak who were converted.

James didn’t even know that the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult existed until he received their help and converted.

“Ahem. As you can tell from my appearance, I'm actually from a country out west called England. I grew up praying to God and Jesus Christ."

“One day, when I was being sold into slavery, the Grand Preceptor saved me like how he saved all of you. Hahaha! But I did not believe in the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult from the beginning. Even the name sounds rather frightening, doesn’t it? Hahaha!”

The stories of Ohalak and James had much in common, yet they were entirely different in other respects. For the people of Andkhoy, however, the experiences of those two converts were far easier to understand and sympathize with.

“But that was all prejudice! The only time these people take on an appearance like demons is when they are punishing people who act like true demons from hell! They do not kill or torture anyone merely because they are of different religions. As long as you commit no evil, they will care for you warmly as one of their fellow living beings!”

High on his own spirit, James’s face turned beet-red as he preached into the crowd.

Finally, when his epic sermon came to a close...

“Come! Let us sing praises!”

The entire gathering burst into hymns.

Meanwhile, the old man who had remained near the city walls shook his head at the sound of singing drifting from within the city.

“Worthless fools!”

This could not continue.

But none of the townsfolk were listening to him anymore.

And despite what that punk said, he obviously couldn't go running to the Empire.

They would either kill him or enslave him.

After thinking for a while, the old man finally headed toward the city gate.

The guard warned him that he would not be welcomed back inside once he left, but the old man stubbornly persisted until he was permitted to go.

Once outside the gate, he headed northeast.

His goal was to reach another city belonging to the coalition rather than the Empire.

There, he would report the atrocities committed by the Hong Dynasty to the coalition's leaders.

His old and weakened body cried out in pain, but the man continued onward.

He felt like he had taken on a great religious mission.

With that conviction burning inside him, he found it surprisingly easy to overcome his physical exhaustion.

By the time the sunset had completely faded and darkness was gradually spreading in every direction, a military force was approaching from ahead while bathed in the last light of dusk behind it.

Given the direction they were coming from, he assumed it had to be a coalition unit.

“O-over here!”

The old man waved his arms and shouted with all his strength.

Once he told them about Hong’s atrocities, everything would go back to normal! 

Driven by righteous fury, he kept hollering at the approaching army…

Until he couldn’t.

All the blood instantly drained from his face when he caught glimpses of the approaching army.

As the army marched out of the shadows, the details finally became clear.

The banners flying throughout the formation were covered in writing the old man could not read.

But the very fact that he could not read the characters told him exactly who they were.

“Bwahahahaha! Looks like we've got an enemy straggler over there! It looks like we’ll be fighting a battle soon!”

A bloodthirsty roar ripped through the air from the front of the vanguard.

It was the voice of Dokgo Ryong.