Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 165 - Those Pressed for Time

Chapter 165 – Those Pressed for Time

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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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Chapter 165 – Those Pressed for Time

They captured three Night Guests, but the real enemies of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains were still lurking far away. They used bone-crushing and tendon-pulling techniques on The Man-Carving Artisan, plus a dream-inducing drug personally prepared by Ju-seong, but he didn’t reveal any useful information. He only left behind a single sentence… ‘There’s a snake!’… before he died. Ju-seong pondered the word, then suddenly recalled something: “Come to think of it, the venomous creature I was looking for is also a snake lurking in the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains.”

Perhaps the snake The Man-Carving Artisan mentioned was that very snake.

But for now, that wasn’t something to dwell on. From here on, it was a race against time.

Before the other side caught on and prepared ambushes or traps, they had to push forward at relentless speed. That conviction only grew stronger after discovering a cart road cutting across the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains.

“It looks like a recently made road. Made over the past couple months from carts coming and going. It seems we’ve found their supply route.”

Based on the camping traces and the depth of ruts, they were receiving substantial amounts of food supplies.

‘There are more of them than we estimated.’

The Green Forest King’s Nine Dragons Stronghold was known to be located around the center of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains. If the demonic practitioners had already taken over that fortress, the situation would grow messy.

Ju-seong’s main force pushed south at even greater speed. Thanks to that, Yang So-an’s scouting team had to run until their feet sweat, eliminating enemy reconnaissance squads.

-Schwick!

Yang So-an cleanly cut down one of their scouts, frowning at the sight of a martial artist escaping over a distant ridge.

“Another one got away.”

Word of their advance had been passed along. There were no ambushes or traps. They’d advanced too fast for such things to be prepared.

Martial artists’ warfare was like this. They crossed impassable terrain and marched at impossible speeds. They struck at the enemy’s blind spots and were frequently caught off guard themselves.

* * *

Seven days and nights later, the main force reached the heart of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains without any significant battle.

Ju-seong gazed up at a peak that jutted up like a thumb.

Guangxi had quite a few stone mountains that rose in steep peaks like that. But this one was particularly massive and tall.

“As magnificent as the front of a virgin lad’s trousers upon first discovering a lady.” At Ju-seong’s vulgar comparison, Won-gong heaved a deep sigh. “The more time I spend with you, the deeper my cultivation goes. Truly a good thing.” Ju-seong retorted, “Is that so? Then I’ll follow you all the way up Mount Song for your training.” “Should you set so much as a foot on the mountain’s base,” Won-gong replied evenly, “I’ll let you personally experience the power of the Hundred-Eight Arhat Formation.” “Tsk, how cold,” Ju-seong muttered.

Ju-seong clicked his tongue and, together with Won-gong, leaped to the top of the peak in one bound to survey the scenery below. Operating Celestial Eye to pull the view close…

“Oh ho. There it is.”

Far away, an ancient stone fortress sat with a great ridge like a folding screen at its back. Ju-seong felt the word ‘daunting’ arise from that crouching black barrier.

A heaven-sent fortress that used part of a mountain range as one wall.

And the mountain range backing it… what was it like? The slope toward the fortress was gentle and smooth, but not in the other direction.

The rear was a sheer cliff carved as if by knife, making it impossible to assault from the mountain side… a fiendish terrain.

“In all my life, I’ve never seen such a daunting-looking thieves’ den.”

Ju-seong clicked his tongue.

Above all, there was a single flag fluttering atop the fortress, bearing a strange symbol.

“What is that? The taiji symbol is inverted.”

Won-gong answered Ju-seong’s description.

“It seems to be a symbol called the Yin Taiji. A diagram expressing a state where yin dominates within the taiji.”

“Who uses such a flag?”

Won-gong shrugged as if he didn’t know. Ju-seong sighed. In any case, one thing was certain… the fortress had fallen into their hands. He’d never heard of the Green Forest King putting an inverted taiji symbol on his flags.

Ju-seong narrowed his eyes slightly and muttered.

“What do those bastards eat and what water do they drink? Where do they dump their waste?”

Yi Pyo-eum, who had some prior knowledge about the Green Forest, answered.

“The Nine Dragons Stronghold, the Green Forest’s headquarters, has been the palace and fortress of successive Green Forest Kings since ancient times. There’s a fairly spacious lake behind it, so water supply isn’t a problem.”

“Hmm… So it seems.”

The mountain range behind was so complexly layered that he hadn’t spotted it at first glance, but looking carefully, he could glimpse a mist-covered lake.

In other words, it was a fortress with both nature-given walls and a water source.

“And for food… As you saw, external supply.”

Ju-seong rubbed his temples with a furrowed brow.

“Food is external supply… water is self-generated.”

For now, their supply route was cut. Eight-Hook Ghost had blocked the key paths. If so, perhaps quietly besieging from below and waiting would achieve their goal.

Through isolation, forcing them to abandon their defensive advantage and rush out.

That was Ju-seong’s plan. Ju-seong led about a hundred martial artists and set up camp in front of the fortress. There was no particular reaction from the fortress. A few sentries on the walls moved busily as if making reports, but no leader appeared or anything like that.

Ju-seong roughly estimated the range of a martial artist’s bow shot and set up camp.

Just over a hundred people hardly counted as a military encampment. But the pressure they exerted was comparable to a force of over a thousand.

Each individual was a martial artist capable of easily slaughtering a dozen or more ordinary men.

The fact that it was a heaven-sent fortress… difficult to capture… was a double-edged sword. It would be equally difficult to secretly bring in supplies.

Eight-Hook Ghost blocked the northern side… the supply route… and Ju-seong’s group had camped right in front.

They couldn’t open the gates to hunt for food either.

‘Whatever happens, come out and fight us head-on. We’re confident.’

Ju-seong had his own plans. No matter how strong the opponent, Ju-seong had one hidden move that could take down most masters in jianghu.

‘Whoever you are, you’ll probably be quite surprised.’

Ju-seong muttered to himself. If only they’d come out and fight, he could take their leader’s head in one stroke.

And so time passed.

* * *

“Two months already. Damn. Those bastards… How much grain did they stockpile?”

Ju-seong scratched his head. Every day since the siege began, he’d climb a high rock and try to eavesdrop on the fortress interior.

But since the fortress was also on high ground, he couldn’t see over the walls.

Celestial Eye was a divine power that pulled what was in view close to the extreme… not one that could see through walls.

‘Who knows. If the Three Divine Powers fuse and I attain Buddha-nature, such things might become possible.’

But that was a distant prospect.

“What do they eat to hold out so long? Martial artists eat more than ordinary people.”

Ju-seong muttered with a furrowed brow.

From what he could see, they had many lowlifes among them too. Probably padding their numbers.

Of course, they weren’t as pathetic as the ones guarding the outskirts of the Hundred Thousand Great Mountains. Wandering dark path thugs who could at least serve as combat power.

Ju-seong’s main force was receiving a constant supply of provisions from Eight-Hook Ghost’s side. Since they were outside, they could also supplement food through hunting.

Won-gong also scratched his head, looking puzzled.

“In terms of combat power, we’re roughly matched, and in numbers, they have the advantage… Yet they avoid a full battle. They seem to have no intention of giving up their defensive advantage.”

“Time is on our side. Don’t you have any pressing schedules, Monk? Like your master’s eightieth birthday celebration or something.”

“Nothing like that… But it is worrying. What on earth are they thinking, holing up so stubbornly?”

“We should test them.”

That afternoon. Ju-seong filled his belly with jerky and millet porridge. Using his extremely sensitive sense of smell combined with a physician’s skills of brewing medicine, he provided the best taste achievable in field conditions.

This was why Ju-seong’s main force still had high morale.

He took Won-gong, Yi Pyo-eum, Black Pig, and other top fighters to the gate of the fortress.

Ju-seong drew a deep breath and shouted loud enough to make the gates echo.

“Hey, you there! A passing traveler would like to ask something! Is this the rustic village of the rustic bumpkin playing that outdated game called the Cradle of the Demonic Path?!”

“…”

Four uses of ‘rustic’ in one sentence. Won-gong gave Ju-seong a blank stare.

When people insult others, they unconsciously target their own weak points.

Ju-seong had never once lived in the center of the Central Plains. In childhood, he’d lived on the fringes of Jiangnan; in adulthood, in the distant land of Sichuan.

But crude mockery was effective at rattling opponents.

Ju-seong shouted again.

“I’m asking if this is the place connected to that laughable little club called the Cradle of the Demonic Path! Good heavens, do followers of the demonic path hesitate to even show their ugly faces when guests arrive! Indeed, there was reason the White Path League chopped them up and beheaded them back in the day! Having been crushed so thoroughly yet crawling out again… you vermin certainly have some nerve!”

During the Five Barbarians and Sixteen Kingdoms era, the White Path League annihilated those who called themselves demonic practitioners without question or mercy. With such cruelty that even they seemed more demonic.

That very cruelty and brutality led to even the White Path League being purged by the Song imperial court.

If these people shared lineage with the demonic practitioners persecuted back then, they couldn’t afford to completely ignore such provocation.

Sure enough, a rather handsome young man suddenly poked his head over the wall.

He’d hopped up to perch on the wall. With a crooked smile on his lips, the youth in his casually draped black robe cut quite a dashing figure as it fluttered in the wind.

‘That must be the disciple of the Demonic Venerable.’

He’d heard a disciple of one of the four Venerables of the Cradle of the Demonic Path was here. He was fairly certain that was the man.

Remarkably, the youth held a bone with meat still attached.

‘Where did those bastards get meat like that? It’s not even salted meat.’

The youth said nothing to Ju-seong. Ju-seong too kept silent, assessing the youth.

The two matched eyes from their respective heights for a long while without speaking. The youth chewed his meat; Ju-seong stared at him with his head cocked at an angle.

Finally the youth spoke.

“You think time is on your side right now.”

Ju-seong snickered and retorted.

“Are you saying it isn’t? Your face is annoyingly smug. Come down. I’ll beat you into a bloody pulp.”

The youth smirked, then tossed the bone… still thick with meat… down from the wall.

-Thunk…

A piece of meat that raised dust as it rolled. While attention was drawn that way, the man vanished without a word.

“No idea what kind of person that is. What on earth is he thinking?”

Yi Pyo-eum asked, baffled. When Ju-seong didn’t answer, she turned to look at him and gasped in surprise.

She had never seen Ju-seong this enraged.

Strangely enough, Ju-seong’s face was expressionless like a doll’s. Only his eyes were shot through with blood-red threads.

That strange contrast made Pyo-eum’s spine crawl.

Ju-seong slowly walked toward the bone the youth had thrown. Earlier, he’d been too busy in a staring contest with that damned fellow to notice, but now he saw it clearly. He had done his share of physician’s work, after all, and there was no way he could mistake it. “It’s a human femur,” he spat through clenched teeth. Within that motionless ancient fortress, the most hideous of sins was being committed. Ju-seong finally understood what the youth had meant. Those pressed for time… “Are us.” He squeezed his eyes shut.