Chapter 55

This is driving me crazy.

Hyuk Mujin felt the world go yellow before his eyes.

Assassins disguised as disciples of minor sects. The Head Elder’s betrayal. That alone was enough to make his head explode, but…

Why the hell did this guy collapse too?!

Jin Taekyung had passed out without warning. The reconnaissance squad members had taken turns slapping his cheeks and shaking him by the collar, but he still showed no sign of waking.

He’s definitely still breathing.

It was enough to make a ghost weep. And with things as they were, Hyuk Mujin—the deputy squad leader—had ended up in charge of this enormous mess.

“You, and you.”

Mujin singled out two of the reconnaissance squad members still standing there in a daze.

“Return to the main family at once and report what happened.”

The Head Elder.

Mujin did not know why one of the family’s most respected elders, a hero of the old Great Faction War, had devised such a dark scheme or what he hoped to gain from it.

But they had to prevent the worst from coming to pass.

“The rest of us are heading for the main force. Hurry!”

Mujin hoisted the unconscious Jin Taekyung onto his back.

After running for roughly two hours, the world went yellow before his eyes again—this time for a different reason.

I’m going to die.

It had only been a few days since Jopil’s brutal palm strike had left him with internal injuries. He had boasted to Jin Taekyung that he was almost fully recovered, but in truth, he needed at least two solid weeks of rest.

“Huff… huff.”

He was soaked through, and his legs were trembling.

He would have fallen behind even if he had only been trying to keep up. With the solidly built Jin Taekyung on his back, he was practically dying.

Ah, Mother. Father.

Now he was even hallucinating his parents—who were alive and well—beckoning to him. The woman standing beside them had a face he often saw in the temple hall.

Guanyin Bodhisattva?¹

“Child. You have suffered enough. You may rest now.”

Her benevolent smile slowly put Mujin’s heart at ease.

Yeah. I’ve done enough. The squad leader drops like a rock when it matters most, and these bastards won’t even offer to carry him for me, whether I drop dead or not.

Fuck it. Whatever.

Mujin was just about to let go when—

“Whew… haaah.”

Warm breath slipped into his ear. He knew who it was without turning around. Tears of relief stung Hyuk’s eyes.

“Captain!”

Jin Taekyung grinned and whispered,

“Candy in your ear.”²

Clang! Clang!

“Kill them! Kill them!”

“Graaah!”

Blood sprayed and screams rang out on every side. A blood-soaked martial artist crawled on all fours between the corpses.

His still-youthful face was stained with pain and terror.

“Hnnh… hhhk…”

He tried to hold it back, but the sobs kept breaking free. He had spent ten years gritting his teeth and honing his martial arts, yet none of it had helped him on this blood-soaked battlefield.

The senior he had relied on was dead. So was the fellow disciple who had been like a brother. Weapons had poured in from every direction, splitting open bellies and hacking limbs apart.

“Mother… Mother…”

He called for her over and over until his face suddenly went rigid.

Shunk—!

A spearhead protruded from his chest.

His eyes flew wide for an instant, then the light faded from them. A wandering martial artist with a bandit’s beard pulled his rusty spear free and grinned.

“What’s a brat doing here?”

But even a wandering martial artist who had survived countless brushes with death could not dodge the blade that came flying at him a moment later.

Slice—

A silver line flashed, and the wandering martial artist’s head shot into the air.

A wandering martial artist killed a martial artist. Another martial artist killed the wandering martial artist.

Nameless men killed and died on every side, over and over.

That was what a battlefield was.

Yes. This was what it was like.

The Head Elder gazed over the battlefield, lost in memory.

Eight Spring Gorge. A battleground that had earned a single line in the history of the Great Faction War decades ago. How many people had died in that narrow gorge?

I was young then, too.

His body had been strong, and his heart had burned hot. Back then, the embarrassing word chivalry had still meant so much to him.

But the Great Faction War had changed the Head Elder. He had grown weary of the endless fighting and afraid of death.

What good is a chivalrous warrior? Die, and you’re nothing but a ghost.

That realization had been a form of enlightenment. In the end, he had survived and become a hero. After long years of patient endurance, he had finally reached this point.

Now it was time to reap the fruit.

The Head Elder turned his shrewd old eyes toward the man standing beside him.

What a waste. Such a waste.

Jin Wikyung was a remarkable talent. He was young, highly accomplished in martial arts, and above all, possessed the dignity and judgment a leader needed. He sometimes allowed sentiment to sway him, but perhaps that was also why he was so deeply respected within the family.

He is more than capable of restoring this family.

If Jin Wikyung became the Family Head, and if his two younger brothers—each already distinguishing himself—stood firmly behind him…

The Head Elder caught himself and let out a short laugh.

What a ridiculous thing to be thinking after coming this far. Besides, Jin Taekyung was probably already dead, reduced to a lonely ghost.

“I’ve grown old.”

Jin Wikyung reacted to the quiet mutter.

“Did you say something?”

“Nothing of importance. Old men tend to talk to themselves. More importantly, how does the battle look to you, Lesser Family Head?”

“It is going in our favor, but…”

Jin Wikyung’s expression darkened slightly. They held the advantage in troop quality and terrain, but their casualties continued to mount.

There was no way he could watch members of his family die and feel at ease.

“Lesser Family Head. I understand how you feel, but do not act rashly.”

The Head Elder’s warning was stern.

“A leader must know when to step forward. The longer the battle drags on, the more impatient the enemy will become. That is the moment we must seize.”

“The Mount Heng Sword Sect will soon throw its full strength at us.”

“They’ll put their Peak masters at the front. Their Sect Leader, Lee Cheonbaek, may even come himself.”

“Then everything will be decided.”

The Head Elder nodded.

“If you, Wipeng, and I hold off the enemy commanders while arrows rain down from the cliffs, their morale will collapse.”

“It’s a shame we can’t use fire. I resent the heavens.”

The narrow terrain of Eight Spring Gorge was perfect for a fire attack, but the heavy snowfall several days ago had left snowdrifts everywhere.

Yet even if the heavens had taken Jin Wikyung’s side, what he hoped for would never have happened.

The men drawing their bows atop the cliffs would obey the Head Elder’s command.

“I resent the heavens as well.”

The Head Elder meant it.

He had waited far too many years. He resented Heaven’s mandate for arriving only now.

“Candy in your ear.”²

“Captain!”

“Was it sweet as a dream?”²

“…Are you insane?”

The sight of Hyuk Mujin’s ugly face filled me with relief. I felt the same way about the other reconnaissance squad members who crowded around after hearing I was awake.

“Captain’s awake!”

“What happened? Are you all right?”

“Wasn’t he dead?”

I’d have to deal with the bastard who had just said that later. I memorized his face and name, then grinned at everyone.

“Been a while. You guys been well?”

“Huh?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Did he hit his head?”

“His head—check his head!”

Exactly the reaction I’d expected.

Still, it was a greeting I’d genuinely wanted to give them at least once.

…Not that they didn’t treat me like a lunatic afterward.

“Anyway, that’s enough greeting. How long was I out?”

Mujin sank to the ground with a thud and answered.

“Definitely more than an hour, but probably a little under two.”

I’d spent two weeks in reality, so the timing roughly lined up. I nodded and moved on to my next question.

“Was I breathing?”

“Why are you asking that all of a sudden? Seriously.”

“We don’t have time. Just answer.”

“You were breathing, so you woke up. Otherwise, you’d be dead.”

Fair enough.

Apparently, logging in or out left my body on the other side in a state of suspended animation.

If I’d logged out before dealing with the assassins, there wouldn’t have been a body left for me to return to.

I’d think about that later.

There was a more urgent problem.

“The main force?”

“We were already heading toward them. I split off two men and sent them back to the family.”

“Good. How much farther?”

“At least another two hours.”

“Two hours…”

“Uh, Captain. I’m sorry to say this, but… I think we have to consider the worst-case scenario.”

Mujin and every member of the reconnaissance squad fell silent. Nobody had to ask what the worst-case scenario meant.

I’ve thought about it too.

According to what Gwak Jun had said just before he died, this betrayal had been meticulously planned for a long time.

But the plan had exactly one flaw.

Me.

The Head Elder had underestimated me.

No—maybe in a way, he had overestimated me. He’d sent dozens of First Rate masters just to kill me.

Even that hadn’t been enough. I had survived.

He made a mistake.

On top of that, when Gwak Jun first revealed his true colors, he’d said they needed to get moving soon if they wanted to arrive on time.

Which meant…

“It’s not too late.”

I met each squad member’s eyes and spoke firmly.

“Don’t think about the worst-case scenario. No matter what it takes, I’ll change that outcome.”

“Captain…”

“So, Mujin.”

I gave Mujin’s choked-up face a good-natured smile.

“Get up. Now.”

“I’m dying here.”

“Want to get beaten to death instead?”

“…”

“Run even one more step in the time we’ve got. Don’t you know marathon spirit?”

“I don’t.”

Ah. Right. This was Murim.

“Anyway, get up. Another hour will do it.”

Mujin grabbed his trembling legs and forced himself upright, then cocked his head.

“An hour?”

“Yeah. An hour.”

“I already told you. Even at full speed, it’ll take two hours.”

“Exactly. An hour.”

“What are you even talking about…?”

“Mujin.”

“Yes?”

Mujin blinked at me with the guileless eyes of an ox. I smiled even brighter.

“You ever heard of grit?”

I didn’t care whether it should take two hours or four.

We were getting there in one hour. Period.

“Run like hell. That’ll do it.”

“Huk.”

Every face in the reconnaissance squad went deathly pale.

“We’ve been blocked.”

“Casualties are mounting. Sect Leader, please take action.”

Even as the reports continued, Blood Wolf Sword Lee Cheonbaek, Sect Leader of the Mount Heng Sword Sect, did not open his eyes.

I was too hasty.

The war had started in a rush, and the preparations had been just as thin. Provisions were burning down fast, morale was dropping, and deserters were popping up one after another.

They read us completely.

Rage over his son’s death and impatience with the situation had clouded his judgment. He had ignored his subordinates’ advice and chosen the fastest route.

And so he had encountered the Jin Family of Taiyuan in a narrow gorge whose very name had been unfamiliar to him: Eight Spring Gorge.

“Sect Leader!”

At his subordinate’s shout, Lee Cheonbaek slowly opened his eyes.

The formidable eyesight of a Peak master pierced the battlefield.

“Gaaah!”

“Wipe them out! They’re nothing but rabble!”

Well over a thousand of his men were trapped at the narrow entrance, unable to advance. The wandering martial artists and mounted bandits he had placed at the front had numbers, but individually, they were inferior even to the Jin Family’s rank-and-file warriors.

Sword fodder, at best.

Just as he clicked his tongue inwardly, several dozen wandering martial artists began peeling away from the front line. The middle-aged wanderer leading them shouted at the top of his lungs.

“This is a dog’s death! Brothers of the Blood Rain Group, fall back!”

Those became the middle-aged wandering martial artist’s last words.

Whoosh—

A light breeze.

That was all the wanderer felt.

He did not know that Blood Wolf Sword Lee Cheonbaek had already brushed past him. He did not know that the wandering martial artists under him had frozen in terror.

He only thought, all of a sudden, that his neck felt hot.

“Uh…”

His cleanly severed head dropped with a dull thunk. The headless body staggered a few more steps, then went down like a rotten old tree.

“Blood Rain Group, was it?”

Lee Cheonbaek pointed his sword at the frozen wanderers. Not a single drop of blood stained the blade.

“Go back.”

A Peak master’s killing intent shot into them like a blade. The wandering martial artists charged toward the front even faster than they had come.

They had decided that fighting at the front beat throwing themselves at the Peak master in front of them.

“Rat bastards.”

Lee Cheonbaek went after them. His burning gaze was aimed somewhere ahead, where the Jin Family of Taiyuan’s command had to be.

“The Sect Leader is taking the lead!”

“Everyone, charge! Wipe out the Jin Family of Taiyuan!”

As Lee Cheonbaek stepped forward, the Mount Heng Sword Sect’s core forces followed.

Three Peak masters and dozens of First Rate masters surged toward the front.