Chapter 964

Rrrumble.

Ripples spread across the pool of blood that had lain still.

Tiny fragments of stone trembled. So did the countless corpses, their eyes wide open in death.

This is…

Everyone felt the tremor, small but unmistakable.

And at the same time, they knew instinctively what it meant.

An earthquake?

Ridiculous.

This tremor was undeniable proof that at least several thousand men and horses were closing in.

The cruel omen was enough to give some people hope, and others deep despair.

“Waaaaah!”

Wheeeee!

The gorge filled with shouts.

The nomads, whose morale had plummeted at the Demon Bird’s death, let out shrill cries and charged.

“Reinforcements!”

“Jamukha Khan has arrived!”

If Jin Mukyung’s defeat of the Demon Bird had turned the tide of battle, now the reverse was happening.

Jamukha.

A name unfamiliar to the people of Shanxi. The ruler of the western grasslands, the absolute master of the vast Great Steppe. As if his arrival weren’t enough, at least several thousand reinforcements had joined him.

The nomads had been pushed back, their morale dwindling like a dying ember. Now it soared. The Shanxi defenders, who had been driving back the invaders moments ago, felt their forgotten fatigue and fear return.

Even the man leading them felt it.

What do I do now? What am I supposed to do?

Jin Wikyung swallowed a groan.

Blood from his enemies ran down the commander in chief’s sword, proof of how fiercely he had fought.

He had given the battle everything he had.

He had joined the fighting himself to raise his men’s spirits. Whenever a crisis arose, he had given flawless orders, sealing the gorge entrance so thoroughly that not even a drop of water could pass.

Fifteen thousand troops, scraped together from across Shanxi Province.

But reality was cold.

Less than half of those fifteen thousand could be called the main force, and even they had suffered heavy losses against the enemies who kept pouring in.

For every enemy they felled, there were two. For every two, five.

For every five, ten.

And behind them, tens of thousands more still waited.

In this long, dreadful war of attrition around the narrow gorge, it was not the rocks that would break first, but the pebbles.

Was this how it had to end?

Jin Wikyung breathed hard and looked around.

Everything was hazy, muffled.

Enemies and allies charged over heaps of corpses and tangled together. He stood rooted to the spot while a retainer called to him, but the enemy’s shouts drowned out the words. They reached him only in broken snatches, like stepping-stones across a stream.

“…urry, hurry!”

He couldn’t make out the words, but Jin Wikyung understood exactly what his retainer meant.

A hand tugged hard at his sleeve.

The retainer’s face was full of despair and urgency.

And it wasn’t just the retainer in front of him. Everyone around him—the martial artists of the Jin Family of Taiyuan, the Sect Leaders of their vassal sects, and the government troops—was speaking to him with their eyes.

You have to get out of here.

You have to live.

Yes. I suppose so.

Jin Wikyung understood how they felt.

The scales of victory and defeat had already tipped, and the invaders from the steppe were stronger than anyone had expected.

No—the strength of Dark Heaven, planted deep in the steppe, was far more terrifying than he had imagined.

Even now, the best course was to order a retreat.

While the troops at the front held out to buy time, he—the commander in chief—could gather the remaining forces and withdraw. That was the best strategy.

But…

There’s no reason the commander in chief has to be me.

Jin Wikyung smiled faintly and tightened his grip on his sword hilt.

He had spent the past few years more accustomed to a brush than a sword, but the Sword Energy of a Peak master had not dulled in the slightest.

Shhk!

A Keshik trying to break through his guards crumpled without a fight.

Jin Wikyung advanced, cutting down the enemy with clean, precise movements. His retainer hurried after him again.

“Lesser Family Head, why—”

Thuk!

Jin Wikyung took another life and spoke.

“Tell Lee Seowol, the Sect Leader of the Mount Heng Sword Sect, that from this moment on, I’m leaving everything that follows to her.”

“……!”

“Go. Now!”

With that shout, Jin Wikyung swept his sword through the air.

A defeated commander had nowhere to return to. After sacrificing the lives of so many of his people, this was where he belonged.

She’s clever. She’ll manage.

With the weight on his heart lifted, his sword felt lighter. Pain flared from the wounds where lances and arrows had grazed him, setting his blood ablaze.

I promised everyone I would protect this land—Shanxi Province.

He had made another vow, too.

Even if everyone else fled in terror, he would remain here.

He would live and die with them.

“Come on, then! I am Jin Wikyung, Lesser Family Head of the Jin Family of Taiyuan! I’m right here!”

Crack!

At the sight of Jin Wikyung advancing with a beast’s roar, a flame sprang up deep in the eyes of the Shanxi defenders who had been wavering.

A shiver, its origin unknown, raced from the crowns of their heads through their bodies.

There he is.

The man they had been searching for all this time was right there.

The man who cherished and loved this barren land and the people living on it more than anyone.

The true Alliance Leader of Shanxi Province.

“Yaaaaah!”

“Protect the Lesser Family Head! Protect Shanxi Province!”

With a tremendous roar that shook the gorge, the people of Shanxi charged with all their strength.

They did not retreat.

Not one of them.

Jin Mukyung suddenly felt fatigue seep through his whole body.

It was the pain of his flesh, which he had momentarily forgotten, and the vague helplessness of facing an insurmountable wall.

Was this how it had to end?

Jin Mukyung looked up at the sky and muttered inwardly.

Even the faint moonlight had been swallowed by the clouds. As always, the sky offered no answer.

It simply hung over everyone in silence, watching, as though this too were fate.

The countless enemies and allies.

The corpses that had left this world and could no longer move.

And the two men standing tall at the center of it all.

Jin Mukyung and Jamukha.

“That’s a fine sword. More than worthy of being called a divine weapon.”

Jamukha’s gaze moved slowly.

To the blade, shining white even in the darkness. To Jin Mukyung. And, finally, to the Demon Bird’s corpse, sprawled in a pool of blood without so much as a twitch.

“He always called himself a hunter. Arrogant and stupid, considering how long he’d lived.”

His eyes and tone were calm.

Jamukha showed not the slightest regret at the Demon Bird’s death. Jin Mukyung tightened his grip on the hilt and spoke.

“If he’d heard that, he’d have been sad. You’re saying he was a hunting dog his master didn’t even acknowledge.”

“Master?”

“He was a subordinate you cared for, wasn’t he? Or was I wrong?”

Jin Mukyung had tossed out the remark to create even the smallest opening. But Jamukha’s gaze did not waver in the slightest.

“I’m disappointed.”

“What?”

“Speak with your sword, not that tongue of yours. A provocation like that doesn’t suit someone like you.”

“……!”

“You’re still far too clumsy at it. Though choosing the wrong opponent was a big part of it. Like that pathetic fool lying over there.”

At Jamukha’s scornful glance toward the Demon Bird’s corpse, Jin Mukyung bit his lip.

Jamukha was right.

Trying to provoke an opening by using the Demon Bird’s death had been the wrong move from the start.

Jin Mukyung didn’t know why, but even after losing his sharpest-toothed hunting dog, Jamukha seemed entirely unmoved.

No—somehow, he even seemed pleased.

What is it? Why?

As Jin Mukyung wrestled with the question, Jamukha, who had been studying the Sword Demon with interest, suddenly spoke.

“If you’re not going to swing that sword, why not put it down?”

For a moment, Jin Mukyung understood what he meant and let out a quiet laugh.

“You want me to surrender? To you, of all people?”

“Surrender?”

Jamukha frowned and shook his head.

“No. I mean submit. Roll over and show your belly to your master, wag your tail, and lick the tops of his feet like a dog.”

“……!”

“You’ll have to become my new hunting dog. Fortunately, I happen to have a spare collar.”

Jin Mukyung stared silently at Jamukha.

Then he spoke without warning.

“The Blood Soul Fat Demon—the Demon Bird—said something similar to me.”

“Did he offer to take you as his disciple?”

“I didn’t listen closely. It sounded like a pig squealing. But something like that.”

“That’s no surprise. He would’ve trained you and eventually tried to kill you himself. Though, looking at how he ended up, he’d have been the one to die.”

Jamukha spoke calmly, then continued.

“But don’t misunderstand me. I’m not like the Demon Bird.”

“You don’t look any better than him. If anything, you look worse.”

“I only intend to raise you as a hunting dog instead of prey. I might even let you off the leash when the time is right.”

“Sure. I bet you would.”

Shing.

A cold, sharp edge filled the air.

Jin Mukyung slowly raised his sword upright and spoke across its white blade.

“By the time that ‘right time’ you’re talking about comes, everything I want to protect will be gone.”

Their conversation was over. He had no regrets.

Better to die as a human being, the Second Young Master of the Jin Family of Taiyuan, than survive as a hunting dog.

To Jin Mukyung, who had already resolved to die, everything Jamukha had said was bullshit from beginning to end.

At least, until he heard Jamukha’s next words.

“I’ll spare your life. Yours, and all of theirs.”

“……What?”

“If you refuse to become a hunting dog because you have something to protect, then I mean to give you enough food.”

Jamukha looked at Jin Mukyung, whose eyes had widened, and gestured toward the battlefield, filled with screams and shouts.

“Do you know how to tame a hunting dog? It’s surprisingly simple.”

A leash alone was not enough.

A hunting dog that hadn’t been fully tamed would become a beast the moment its leash came off, and bite its master.

“But what if it’s starving?”

A hunting dog kept on a tight leash and starved for days on end would grow docile. It would have no strength left to bite anyone, and in the helplessness it had never experienced before, it would realize it was nothing but an animal.

“That’s when the master appears and tosses it some food.”

Shk.

Jamukha held out his hand toward Jin Mukyung.

There was nothing in his empty palm. Yet Jin Mukyung could see it clearly.

Not meat dripping with blood, but the countless people of Shanxi fighting to the death inside the gorge.

Everyone’s lives—including his own.

“……!”

Jin Mukyung gritted his teeth without realizing it.

Was it fear of the man in front of him?

Wrong.

It was hope.

Just for a little while.

The hope that if he betrayed righteousness and turned his back on chivalry for only a short time, everyone could survive.

That he could save the people continuing a blood-soaked battle whose ending was already decided, his one and only older brother, and the two Peak masters waiting to die behind him.

“Mukyung!”

“No! Absolutely not!”

Wipeng and Cheol Mubaek.

Jin Mukyung looked at the two men shouting with what little strength they had left, his gaze sunk deep.

“I’m sorry. Both of you.”

“……!”

“……!”

Wipeng and Cheol Mubaek’s eyes widened. Jamukha smiled.

Jin Mukyung looked at Jamukha and parted his lips.

“Did I ever tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“What I said to a certain pig bastard who wanted to take me as his disciple.”

Jamukha’s smile faded a little as Jin Mukyung stepped toward him.

With a single phrase, spat out through clenched teeth, he answered:

“Go suck a dick.”

“……!”

At the instant Jamukha’s expression hardened—

Boooooo!

Far away, the sound of dozens of horns blowing at once reached the gorge.

Jamukha knew better than anyone what that urgent blast meant.

An enemy attack!

And at the same time, he realized something.

The tremor everyone in the gorge had felt moments ago hadn’t come from the nomads alone.