Who threatened Cheonma Hara with a knife - Chapter 157



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Who threatened to call me Cheonmahara with a knife? Episode 157

Salvation (2)

Sohong She, like other instructors, was giving various advice to the officers and members of the Count’s Corps.

“If you truly want to succeed as a true believer of the new religion, you must not give in so easily to the provocations of your opponents.”

The person she advised was the innkeeper who had been provoked during the battle with the bandits a few days ago. The matter was somehow resolved, but the innkeeper’s face turned red as if it would burst at the bandits’ dirty joke.

It was not out of shame, as befitting a cultist, but out of anger, but in any case, it was foolish to fall for the opponent’s provocation before battle.

Actually, from Sohong’s perspective, who was giving advice to the innkeeper, it felt quite strange.

‘If you only care about the eight princes anyway, why should I give you this advice…?’

I thought of the Magic Hall officials as just a passing relationship. However, when I saw the appearance of the innkeeper, I couldn’t help but see myself from a dozen years ago when I was that age.

Since then, So Hong has given various advice to various officials.

‘Yes. In order to hide the fact that I’m after Prince Pal, I have to act like an instructor.’

It took a long time to justify one’s actions and help the authorities.

She, who had not yet forgotten her purpose, often watched the movements of Ichimoku, who was dozing off on the horse.

“!!!”

Gulp.

My stomach churned with fear as I discovered the Count’s leader approaching me.

“Ahem. Would you like some of this?”

At the sound of a loud boat rumbling coming from nearby, Chu Il-hwan kindly offered So-hong a piece of beef jerky.

“Okay, it’s okay, Instructor.”

Sohong, whose face turned pale at the sound of her stomach suddenly popping out, quickly lowered her head.

It was hard to believe that she was the woman who had cut off the bandit’s lower garment just an hour ago.

‘… In the future, at every practice, there will be people who aim for the Ilmok Confucius. What can we do about this?’

In the midst of her bulimia and shame, Sohong lowered her head and glanced at Ilmok.

To be exact, towards the Count Danju who was approaching Ichimoku.

“Drrrrrr.”

Ilmok, who was dozing off on his horse, opened his eyes belatedly at the sound of someone nearby.

“You’re sleeping on a horse like that. How amazing.”

Ichimoku responded to those words, which were neither a compliment nor an insult, wiping the drool that ran down his hand.

“Isn’t resting also a part of self-care?”

At that confident answer, the Countess almost burst out laughing.

‘But considering how he looked when he caught the bandits, the rumors are likely true.’

There were things he saw himself, and things that the members who were with him said were also consistent.

Not only the martial arts skills, but also the generosity shown in the process.

‘Sleeping on a horse like that would also be proof of his generosity.’

The Count, who had been trying to think that way, suddenly opened his mouth.

“Yes. How have you felt about spending the past few days with our Counts?”

In response to that question, Ichimoku had to try hard to hide his feelings.

Because I couldn’t answer, ‘It was dirty being together, and I hope we never meet again.’

Thanks to this training, I have become more confident.

Even after I graduate from the Magic Academy, I will never join the Forces Corps.

‘There is only one answer. We must go to the central plains.’

I absolutely did not want to live a life where I could not even wash properly and had to run around all day until my butt was sweaty.

“It was truly a rewarding training to kill the bandits who were harassing the living beings.”

He was saying things that were completely different from what he really meant, and he was showing a natural, fake smile that he had become accustomed to thanks to his life as a civil servant.

The Count’s leader, who could not see through the pretense of Il-mok, laughed heartily and said.

“Hahaha. Then, after you graduate from the Magic Academy, how about joining our Count’s Corps? I think you could easily rise to the position of captain within a few years.”

Even with Danju’s crazy suggestion, Ichimoku didn’t lose his smile.

“I would like to do so, but I think it would be difficult, Your Majesty.”

At the unexpected rejection, Danju stopped laughing and asked with a blunt expression.

“Why?”

“The mission of the armed forces to stabilize the territory of our new religion is also excellent, but I have a greater purpose.”

“It’s a bigger purpose than the mission of the armed forces. What is it?”

“I’m sorry, Master. This is a matter of utmost confidentiality regarding the Master, so I can’t tell you easily.”

Of course, since he had no great intentions, Ilmok quickly sold out his master Cheonma’s name.

I never worried about being caught lying.

‘If this guy wasn’t crazy, he wouldn’t ask the Master about the truth of his failed attempt to persuade the Counts.’

It was a scene of him casually discussing lies, and the Count glaring at him as if testing him.

But even under the gaze of the Count’s leader, Ichimoku’s expression did not change at all.

Thanks to my life as a civil servant, I was used to managing my facial expressions, and thanks to my life in the Cheonmasingyo Church, I became even more adept at it.

The Cheonmasingyo cult, a group of pseudo-religious fanatics, was a crazy place where you could lose your limbs just for making a single mistake in facial expression.

And So-hong’s face turned pale as she focused her hearing as much as possible and eavesdropped on their conversation.

‘This can’t be happening…. Has the Lord of Ten Thousand Horses already given some order?’

Then why did he sell himself to the magic hall just to seduce that little kid?

‘Oh, protect the court!!!’

The face of the old man who had sent me here without even properly looking into it came to mind.

Gulp.

Her oblivious stomach once again makes a harsh noise.

“Ahem. Ha, one won’t be enough.”

Chu Il-hwan, who was even more oblivious, was taking out food one by one from the side.

* * *

The Count’s leisurely journey continued for several days.

While traveling through the wilderness of Xinjiang, we occasionally encountered nomads and merchants, but we never encountered bandits.

After spending a few days together, the relationship between the Counts and the officials grew a little stronger, but Ilmok was out of the question.

Since the conversation between the Count and Ilmok had already spread among the members, there was no reason to try to recruit him.

How could they put themselves ahead of the will of Cheonma, the god of Cheonma Shingyo?

Of course, since he was the youngest disciple of Cheonma, who was very famous, there were some who wanted to become friends with him, aside from the solicitation of customers.

“I’m sorry. I would like to focus on meditation for a bit for mental practice.”

After a light greeting or a few simple words of conversation, Ichimoku would always send the other person away with this answer.

“Drrrrrr.”

After that, I would often just take a nap.

While Ilmok voluntarily began living a solitary life, the two weeks passed quickly.

‘Ha. When on earth are you going back?’

When Il-mok was growing tired of the boring and dirty wasteland life, he heard a sound that pleased his ears.

“Let’s spend the day in a nearby village today to resupply.”

Following the Count’s instructions, they changed course and headed somewhere.

Soon, a small village came into view in the distance, but it was actually quite far away, as it was a vast wasteland of Xinjiang.

They set off towards the small village that was clearly visible. It was only when the sky turned the color of sunset that they finally arrived at the small village.

‘I guess I’ll be able to wash up properly and sleep well for the first time in a while.’

Entering the village with such hopes, Ichimoku belatedly sensed something strange.

‘What’s that smell… .’

A foul smell of sweat and musty odor wafted from all over the town.

It was the smell coming from the townspeople.

They came out of their houses with frightened expressions as more than sixty people suddenly rushed into the village, and when they saw the flag raised by the Count’s group, they quickly bowed.

“Meet the warriors of the new religion.”

“How could you come to such a shabby place…?”

They all had a shabby appearance.

After passing them and arriving at the Cheonmasin Church branch built on one side of the village, Ichimoku was able to grasp the situation.

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty. There hasn’t been any rain for a while, and the village well is almost dry now.”

The embarrassed-looking Buntaju secretly urged them to go back.

“Currently, the villagers are only drinking enough water to quench their thirst in order to conserve the well. It seems difficult to accommodate more than 60 people.”

As I entered the village and glanced around, I saw that it was a small village with about two hundred residents.

The well is barely shared by two hundred people, so if sixty more people are added to it, the well will dry up in an instant.

The Count, who understood the situation, asked the Buntaju with a worried expression.

“We can just leave here and move to another village, but what are we going to do with the living beings here when we don’t know when it will rain?”

“… Actually, I sent a letter to the headquarters a few days ago, but I think it would be difficult to bring water from the headquarters to here.”

At the explanation of the division, the Countess turned her head with a regretful expression and looked around at the remaining villagers.

Feeling compassionate, I took a moment to look at the miserable villagers.

His gaze, which had been slowly turning, stopped at one place.

Towards the face of Ichimoku, not the villagers.

‘no way?’

Before Ichimoku, who felt an inexplicable ominous feeling, could turn his gaze away, the Count’s leader spoke first.

“A glance at the map.”

“… Yes, Your Majesty.”

“That spell you used to bathe whenever you went to sleepovers. Can you still use it now?”

When the thing he had hoped for actually happened, Ilmok sighed inwardly and answered.

“It is possible to use it, but it will probably be difficult to provide enough water for everyone in the village to drink.”

“At least it’s better than nothing.”

Ilmok, who could not deny it, eventually nodded.

I hated the hassle, but I couldn’t help it.

‘How can you ignore me when I keep looking at you like that?’

It wasn’t the gaze of the Count’s lord. It was the sight of the villagers who were still unable to return home, anxious that they might be taking the water.

Their appearance was so pitiful that it was difficult to turn away.

In addition, there was no awkwardness.

‘Surely… it can’t be because of me?’

The condensation liquor that Ilmok used every night for bathing was a magic method that gathered moisture in the air and made it form water droplets.

That is, every time he bathed in the wine of condensation, the remaining moisture in the atmosphere of Xinjiang was bound to decrease.

‘No. Even so, Xinjiang is so big, and I just took a bath. That can’t be right. Of course not.’

Given the size of Xinjiang and the distance they traveled each day, the drought there should have been irrelevant.

But, there was nothing I could do about the feeling of uneasiness.

“Where is the well?”

Finally, to shake off his discomfort and sympathy for the residents, Ilmok headed to the well.

To guide him, Buntaju took the lead, and the group followed.

In addition, the townspeople chased after him, making a fuss.

The atmosphere was a mixture of anticipation and anxiety.

There was a mixture of anticipation that he might be of some help, and anxiety that he might try to take away the water that was left in the well.

“Here it is.”

Upon hearing Ichimoku’s name, Buntaju realized that he was the last disciple of Cheonma and politely pointed to the well.

Ilmok approached the well with calm steps.

‘… There really isn’t much time left.’

The well was dug quite deep, but the water was almost dry, so it looked more like a black hole than a well.

Ilmok, who was looking down at the well, straightened his back and looked around, and soon he saw over a hundred people gathered in a circle and staring at him.

“Phew.”

Ichimoku took a deep breath and closed his eyes, concentrating on his senses.

The energy of the Talhonmujeonggeom that escaped through his danjeon mixed with the energy in the air, and he began to select water energy from among the various mixed energies.

Sadly, among the countless energies in the air, the proportion of water vapor was not that high.

Rather, the feeling of the water in the drying well at the bottom of that pit felt even more genuine.

‘Tsk. I’m not squeezing dried squid.’

Ilmok clicked his tongue in regret and made a hand gesture as if he had no other choice.

As the water seal was made, the energy of the Ichimoku shook the energy flowing in the atmosphere, and the cracks caused the water seals to separate little by little.

Pot!

As he made the water seal again, the separate water sap gathered in front of his hands.

Pot!

Finally, the moment when Ilmok made a hand gesture and extended both hands forward.

The mixed water condensed strongly, forming a small stream that began to flow down toward the well.

“!!!”

“Ohhhh! Oh my god!”

At that miraculous sight, some of the villagers surrounding the area immediately bowed down to Ilmo.

“Who is that person to perform such magic!?”

Others stood there blankly with surprised faces, or even asked questions to the monks.

To that question, Buntaju answered with a face full of pride.

“Haven’t you all heard the rumor? It’s the eighth disciple of the Supreme Being, Ichimoku Gongjae.”

At the introduction of Buntaju, all the villagers who were still standing knelt down and bowed to Ichimoku.

“Ahhhh. It must have been Heavenly Demon who sent his disciple to save us!”

“Heavenly horse has arrived!! May all fortunes come true!!”

“Thousand years! Thousand years! Thousand years!!”