Chapter 500 ·Upheaval (4)

Talib ‍​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌​‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​​​‌​‌‌‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌‌‌​‌‍forced the troubling speculation from his mind.

He ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍was not a man who tolerated being mired in such thoughts, yet he knew he had to plan for the worst.

‘I ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍must assume the worst-case scenario.’

Assuming ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍Merv had already fallen, he calmly began to work through his options.

"We ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍divide the forces in two."

His ‍​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌​​​​​​‌‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌‌​​‌​​​‌​‌‌‌​‍adjutant swallowed hard before answering carefully. "Our fighting strength has already been greatly reduced. Would that not be dangerous?"

Talib acknowledged the concern but remained resolute.

"It is true that we have lost strength with the death of the Old Man of the Mountain, but these tasks must be done regardless. We must drive the filthy infidels from this sacred land, and we must secure our supply lines and routes of withdrawal."

Beyond that, he had to march the army back west to support the war there.

In the end, the plan still required dividing his troops into two as he intended.

"One half will pursue the coalition’s lords who fled and stabilize the eastern territories. The other half will march West and deal with the infidels. Nothing has changed."

The only difference was that now he would have to handle the infidels himself instead of leaving them to the Old Man of the Mountain.

The adjutant saw that the Grand General's resolve was firm and asked, "Then how should the units be divided?"

"The apostate main force in the East has already been destroyed, so all that remains is to hunt down the escaped lords and occupy unclaimed land. Numbers will matter more than quality. Split the soldiers exactly in half, but leave only one Amir in the East to handle the aftermath."

That meant Talib and the remaining Amir would personally lead the rest of the army back West to deal with the Far East infidels on the way and then continue on to the western war.

With the plan settled, Talib issued an unexpected order. "Bring the Lord of Herat to me."

The adjutant obeyed, and soon returned with Salah.

"Salah pays his respects to the Grand General."

Talib studied the man whose expression was remarkably bright for a traitor. "Do you recall everything you said to me last night?"

"I do, Grand General."

"Even the part about wishing to join the holy war to drive away the apostates and the infidels?"

"Y-Yes, of course."

Salakh nodded while hiding his uncertainty over why he was being asked again.

A smirk curled the corner of Talib's mouth.

"Good. I'm giving you the chance to join that holy war you're so eager for."

Salah asked carefully, "By holy war, do you mean pursuing those who fled?"

Talib shook his head. "We are going to strike the Far East infidels."

A vicious spark lit up Salah's eyes.

"Thank you for giving me this chance to join the holy war!"

A chance to fight those Far East infidels who had dared to humiliate him.

Salah knew he could never fight them with his own strength alone, but the Grand General standing before him was the greatest warrior among all Muslims.

‘With the Empire at my side, I can repay the humiliation that bastard subjected me to a hundredfold!!’

While the flames of vengeance swirled in Salah’s eyes, the Grand General quietly organized his own thoughts as he watched the man.

‘I’d love to snap his neck right now, but I guess I have to squeeze some use out of him first.’

Losing the Old Man of the Mountain had blown a massive hole in their military strength.

With the Christian zealots knocking on their back door, Talib had no choice but to use these turncoats as meat shields for a while.

"I shall prepare my men for the holy war," Salah said eagerly as he left the tent.

He went to the manor where the other defectors had gathered and delivered his news. "Place the soldiers on standby. We will soon be moving together with the Grand General."

One of them asked, "Where are we going?"

"We are joining the holy war to destroy the Far East infidels."

After explaining the situation to the lords who had followed him, Salah turned toward a sturdy middle-aged man standing nearby. He looked at the man with complete trust.

"Gulat."

Gulat, the greatest warrior of Herat.

He was a martial artist who had reached the level known as the Muharib Azim.

Until recently, he had been commanding forces on the front west of the Amu River.

Much like how Ebrahim had been the champion of Nishapur, Gulat was Herat's pride and joy.

Salah believed that if Gulat had been at his side instead of at the front, he would never have suffered such humiliation at the hands of the foreign Grand Preceptor.

He did not mean that Gulat was stronger than that Grand Preceptor since Amir Zayd of the Khalsa Empire who had been a cut above Gulat had already died by the Grand Preceptor's hand.

But at the very least, Salah would not have been subdued by a mere glance and humiliated himself.

"Just give the word, my Lord."

Hearing Gulat's reliable response, Salah gave the order. "In the holy war against the Far East infidels, support the Grand General and make sure that the foreign Grand Preceptor is killed."

Even if Gulat alone could not match the Preceptor, fighting at the Grand General's side would be enough.

Gulat bowed his head. "I have already been sharpening my blade for the one who disrespected my Lord. I will kill him even if it costs me my life."

***

Meanwhile, right outside the walls of Merv.

The Hong Dynasty’s army brought their march to a halt a hundred paces from the walls and were forming up. The walls that were still only half-repaired after the siege ten days earlier were covered with half-dried blood. Imperial soldiers in their colors held positions wherever the ruined ramparts appeared intact with their arrows trained forward.

As Il-mok surveyed the walls, Dokgo Ryong called, "Grand Preceptor! I shall take the vanguard this time!"

Il-mok didn't even blink. "Be my guest. But I’ll have the first move.”

He walked toward the front, and the soldiers parted on both sides with faces full of anticipation. Even though Il-mok had only stepped forward, a creeping madness slowly gathered in their eyes.

"The Grand Preceptor is coming forward!"

"It's the Light!! The Light is coming!!"

Feverish shouts began appearing within the ranks. The only people standing around looking completely lost were the foreign-born cultists.

"What?"

“Ra? Diance?”

They had seen the Grand Preceptor's earth-shaking martial arts with their own eyes, but they had no idea what this Light was about.

Until now, Il-mok had held back because the defending enemy soldiers were few and because he wanted to preserve the intact walls.

But this time was different.

Two enormous spheres formed upon Il-mok's palms with a strange whirring sound.

Vwoooom.

Soon, the completed orbs merged into the shape of a Taiji symbol and floated gently through the air as it drifted toward the walls.

The Hong soldiers knew exactly what that orb was and watched with mad anticipation.

The imperial soldiers on the wall did not know the orb's true identity, but they could feel the primal terror rising from their very souls.

The foreign-born cult members were seeing the orb for the first time as well, but their reaction differed slightly from the imperial troops'.

They simply gazed in inexplicable awe as the orb floated onward.

Moments later, the orb of Qi reached the vicinity of the wall.

Bzzzzzzzt!

Accompanied by a screeching noise that sounded like thousands of birds chirping together, the entire world was dyed in blinding white light.

BOOM!!!!

Startled out of their wits, the foreign-born cultists frantically turned their heads and covered their ears. Their vision whited out, and their hearing was completely muffled.

Soon after, their dulled senses caught the muffled chants of their comrades.

“Glo~ ry! Glory! O’ Divine Cult!!”

As they strained their ears, they realized it was the sound of fifty thousand soldiers screaming their hymns.

They turned back as their vision partially returned and looked ahead. Near where the spheres had burst, the section of wall that had already been half destroyed had vanished entirely.

It was a sight that completely defied common sense.

"ATTACK!"

Empowered by his internal energy, Dokgo Ryong roared and launched himself like a cannonball toward the breach.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

War drums thundered across the Hong camp at a frenzied pace.

"The Heavenly Demon Descends!"

"Ten Thousand Demons Obey!"

Soldiers with madness blazing in their eyes surged together toward the crumbling walls of Merv, and the foreign-born cult members were caught up just as completely.

"AHAHAHAHA!"

"It's a crusade!! A crusade!!"

"Slaughter them all!!"

Those who had cultivated Demonic Arts gave themselves over to the side effects and threw themselves headfirst into the slaughter.

***

Somewhere in the city, one of the foreign-born cultists was still going berserk.

"AHAHAHAHA!"

He didn’t know how much time had passed since he surrendered himself to his Demonic Art.

Whack!

All he knew was that someone smacked sense into his head and he was about to retaliate with a slash of his saber when he found his weapon was already swatted from his hand.

Clang.

"The battle is over. Get a hold of yourself."

It was Jong-ri Chu.

As the African cult member shook his head and came to his senses, Jong-ri Chu moved on to find the next cultist who had lost their grip on reality.

The African cultist let his arms hang limply at his sides.

As the madness receded, a deep sense of exhaustion flooded in.

He trudged into the streets of Merv and slowly took in the city.

It was horrific.

And it wasn't because of the siege they had just fought.

If the destruction was just from the battle, the streets would be covered in dead imperial soldiers and Hong Dynasty forces.

Instead, severed heads on stakes rotted throughout the streets, and blackened bloodstains clung to the walls and ground.

Then he met the eyes of a resident. Wearing nothing but torn rags, she desperately clutched a child to her chest as she bowed to the ground and pleaded.

"Please spare us. Please."

He couldn't understand a single word she was saying since he wasn't from this part of the continent. But he didn't need a translator to know what she was begging for.

He had seen the same nightmare in a dozen other cities before, and he knew what the women of an occupied city must have endured.

He looked down at her and spoke gently. "Don't worry. Our Heavenly Demon Divine Cult does not harm the innocent."

He didn't know why, but those words alleviated his exhausted body. That bone-crushing fatigue that had been suffocating him completely vanished, washed away by a wave of pure clarity.

‘Ah. So that was it.’

He finally understood why his comrades had fought with such ferocity.

It wasn't simply because they were intoxicated by the madness of the battlefield. If that was the case, they would have burned out and collapsed weeks ago.

It had not been only the frenzy of the battlefield, because that alone would have broken the Hong soldiers long ago.

They weren't getting paid massive chests of gold; they weren't getting rewarded with lavish parties, and more importantly, they were fighting on a foreign land.

What had driven them to keep moving forward even as the men beside them fell was something else.

He understood now.

The imperial army had plundered the innocent, and the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult had come to bring judgment.

By following the will of the Heavenly Demon, they had become the fist of God that castigates evils and saviors to the common people.

"Ahhh..."

This man had been sold into slavery and had only joined the Cult because he didn't want to starve to death.

But right here, right now, he had a genuine awakening.

"The Heavenly Demon Descends! Ten Thousand Demons Obey!"

It was the moment a man who had followed the cult only to survive was reborn as a true believer.

And the same transformation was taking place all across Merv.

It was happening so often that Il-mok actually started noticing it while taking a casual walk through the streets.

Men who were just standing in the middle of the road would suddenly burst into hymns and speak in tongues or passionately recite their scripture.

Il-mok shook his head in bewilderment.

‘Why does it feel like the number of fanatics keeps growing? Is it just my imagination?’

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