After the Thieving Phantom had departed and the usual pleasantries were exchanged from the sickbed, the Wudang Fist Emperor strode into the room, his presence filling the cramped space.
“Guhahaha! You rascal. Learning martial arts isn’t exactly a walk in the garden, is it?”
“No, Elder. It certainly isn’t.”
“All this fuss over a single arrow stuck in your back? Why, back in my day…”
Jin Cheon-hee quickly interjected, sensing a lecture on the toughness of the ancients. “Master forced me to rest, Elder. I have no choice in the matter.”
“Tsk, tsk. That White Qilin fellow is still coddling his disciple. I clearly told him to raise you like a wild weed, strong and resilient, not a greenhouse flower.”
“…Uh… um… It would be best not to say that in front of Master.”
“What? Why?”
Jin Cheon-hee’s notoriety for insane exploits was widespread throughout the Gangho, but it seemed the Fist Emperor was blissfully unaware of the gossip circulating in the lower realms.
“If he coddles you too much, you should occasionally jump over a wall and run away from home. Your age is perfect for rebellion. When the old folks interfere, that’s when you bounce out into the world.”
“…Right. Yes, that is true.”
Was it instinct that caused his social survival mode to engage reflexively? The Fist Emperor seemed genuinely unaware of the reason for Jin Cheon-hee’s injury.
He hadn’t just tripped and fallen on an arrow. He had caught an exploding cannonball with his bare hands using the Grafting Flowers to Trees technique, sprinted out during a siege against the massive Suksin army to dismantle their artillery, and returned in this state.
“Roll around recklessly! That’s what your age is for. Every time you cross the threshold between life and death, your martial arts abilities awaken a little more. Our Cheon Woo can’t do that. With his massive body, he thinks like a fox instead of charging like a bear, so he can’t approach the true essence of Taiji.”
“I understand. The Fist Emperor’s words are absolutely correct.”
“Guhahaha! Anyway, listen carefully to your elders. Regardless, shake it off quickly, keeping your master’s feelings in mind. It’s a shame for a man to lie down indefinitely just because of a little prick in his back.”
“Yes!”
Would the Fist Emperor go out and nag his master now? If he did…
Right. That’s none of my business.
Such was the nature of social life. Drawing clear boundaries was the first rule of survival, wasn’t it? I had clearly stated that it would be better not to say those things. I’ve done my due diligence.
Incidentally, Jin Cheon-hee hadn’t expected the Fist Emperor to visit at all, but His Highness Eun seemed to have dragged the old monster here. Or perhaps, like with the Thieving Phantom, his master had pulled some strings behind the scenes.
Jin Cheon-hee was about to ask, but decided against it. Not asking about things that seemed troublesome was also a vital part of social life.
***
Swish—
Tang Ah flung open the tent flap, her laughter echoing through the air.
“Bwahaha! Serves you right, you villain!”
She rubbed her mask, bursting into a fit of giggles that sounded suspiciously like relief.
Jin Cheon-hee sighed. “You came.”
“Being summoned from the opposite end of the Empire is truly dirty work. Traveling is far more exhausting than fighting, you know.”
The sorrow of Sichuan. The distance was indeed punishing.
Click.
She removed the Blood Whip Queen mask, revealing a face etched with worry beneath the bravado.
“So, does it hurt a lot?”
“It’s not a severe wound, so don’t worry. In fact, I could have moved long ago, but Master instructed me to lie down more, leaving me with no choice.”
“That’s a relief…” She let out a long breath. “You’re an idiot.”
“Yes.”
“But not an incomprehensible idiot. Still, is the Suksin Tribe truly that formidable that even we have to intervene? Usually, military supplies are simply replaced by taxes, but for it to reach this point… Hmm.”
A deep wrinkle formed between Tang Ah’s brows.
Jin Cheon-hee chuckled softly. “Still, it’s not at the level where the Tang Clan Head has to step in.”
“That’s true. So it’s a level where the Young Clan Head steps in, but not the Lord himself?”
In reality, even if the government attempted to conscript the Clan Heads, those exalted individuals would never move. This mobilization was likely the maximum demand the Imperial Court could make of the Murim.
Even in Master Kim Dragon’s martial arts novels—often considered the bible of the genre back on Earth—there were tales of martial artists battling foreign invaders like the Mongol army. Martial arts had deep and diverse roots; sometimes completely detached from reality, and other times closely intertwined with blood-soaked history.
As a commoner, I bear the annual burden of taxes and military service. It is what it is.
Tang Ah replaced her mask with a deliberate snap. “It appears the time has come for the Blood Whip Queen’s notoriety to spread.”
Did she sense the anxiety hidden in Jin Cheon-hee’s expression? She stepped outside, her voice brightening into a theatrical performance.
“Umhahaha! I shall stain this wilderness with blood!”
Tang Ah’s laughter, filled with feigned madness, reverberated outside the tent. Amidst the chaos of the camp, someone could be heard urgently explaining to the terrified soldiers.
“It’s not Demonic Arts! Please calm down! It’s merely a characteristic of the Tang Clan’s martial arts!”
***
Despite his master’s strict restrictions on visitors, many still came to pay their respects. Through these brief conversations, Jin Cheon-hee managed to gather a general understanding of the situation outside while confined to his tent.
The army, composed of martial artists, appeared to be around twenty thousand strong. It comprised both Unorthodox and Orthodox factions, as well as small and medium sects, and those with unclear affiliations. While the vagrants wandering aimlessly were beyond the government’s reach, those living with families, owning houses, and possessing land could be summoned.
Including the regular soldiers, the total number of troops was roughly 570,000—a staggering figure. However, approximately 50,000 were supply troops, and another 50,000 would remain behind to defend Danmok Fortress.
The number of troops marching out to face the enemy was approximately 470,000.
“Feeding this army will require substantial supplies, and the supply line will be quite lengthy…”
“Ugh, you disaster. Lie down, just lie down.”
Wang Gak-yeon glared at Jin Cheon-hee with eyes like sharpened axes.
“No, why?”
“Lie down unless you want to be arrow fodder again.”
With that, Wang Gak-yeon sat next to him and fiddled with a captured Suksin arrow for a considerable amount of time, her expression grim.
Jin Cheon-hee asked, “Do you think they shoot well?”
“Yeah, they shoot well. Even a common soldier among them seems to be about a quarter as skilled as me.”
“…Crazy.”
“Do you know what’s scarier?”
“What?”
“There are various types of arrows, and they’re proficient in using all of them.”
Since Wang Gak-yeon herself walked the path of the bow, she had a unique and terrifying perspective.
“Do you realize how devastating it is? They employ parabolic shots, power shots, and direct flat shots. And they do this as a cohesive army unit.”
“…I understand.”
Wang Gak-yeon sighed, the sound heavy with fatigue. “It’s incredible that we’ve managed to hold out for so long.”
“What about the White Silk armor you received…?”
“I’m wearing the clothing you sent before, but it won’t protect me from all the arrow rain.”
As expected, she knew.
Wang Gak-yeon continued, “The Pavilion Master seems to want my advice regarding that, but I’m at a loss for what to do.”
“Master is assisting the military strategists.”
“Yes, but in my opinion, we’re utterly doomed.”
Wang Gak-yeon’s face was dark. While other martial artists only perceived the situation as Is it serious enough for me to intervene? Okay, I’ll fight, only Wang Gak-yeon fully comprehended the tactical gravity.
“Every archer shoots like a master, and with an incredibly long range.”
“What if we throw Aura Spheres?”
“It would inflict damage, but the martial artist who casts the Aura Sphere will inevitably perish. Unless he has mastered Shaolin’s Sutra of Indestructible Vajra Washing Marrow, even a Profound Realm master…” Wang Gak-yeon gestured dramatically, chopping her own neck with her hand. “You know too. Even a master on the verge of ascension dies if his neck is cut half a span. One heart, two lungs, two eye sockets. If any of these organs are damaged, you die.”
Humans were vulnerable. Even martial artists who could split mountains and cleave rocks were merely flesh and blood against a storm of steel. Jin Cheon-hee, a renowned martial artist surgeon, had witnessed countless battles and knew this truth best.
“They’re like that. They create natural disasters with their own hands. That’s the essence of their cavalry.”
“Despite the odds, we managed to fight back somehow.”
“We’re getting fucking crushed, though.”
“Hahaha, we did win some small local battles and managed to defend ourselves.”
“Crazy bastard, getting an arrow stuck in your back and saying ‘well done’. If that had been a saw-toothed arrow, you wouldn’t be smiling. That thing rips out chunks of flesh. Consider yourself lucky.”
Jin Cheon-hee’s eyes widened. “I didn’t see such arrows while treating patients?”
“I heard they improved them while you were lying down.”
“…Wow… That’s fast.”
“It will take time to distribute them to everyone. But do you know this?”
“What?”
“They don’t carry just one bow. They carry two or more. Think carefully about what that means.”
***
Wang Gak-yeon’s words lingered in my mind.
Despite the grim news, he had already deduced some aspects. Why was this so reminiscent of the Mongol army? This world had elements similar to Earth’s 12th to 14th centuries. If asked about the 200-year discrepancy, well, it couldn’t be helped.
Yoo Ho dressed in Qing Dynasty attire, while another wore Ming Dynasty robes. Sugarcane and tomatoes grew on the back mountain, making it difficult to discern the time period. If I were a historian, I could have guessed more accurately, but after entering medical school, the only history books I read were popular ones like Roma or Ramses when I was a kid. My criteria for analysis were strictly administration and military.
There were primitive cannons here, but firearms were far less practical than bows. Who knew? Perhaps there were more advanced guns in the Western Continent. But for now, drawing a bowstring was faster and safer than burning gunpowder. Even now, aside from misfires, explosions inside the barrel occurred if the gunners got bored.
How did he know? I didn’t want to know either. Seeing the patients carried in made it evident. Before the full-scale clash, hadn’t they rushed to the White Qilin Medical Pavilion tent when a test cannon exploded?
On top of this, the Suksin Tribe incorporated martial arts into a force resembling Genghis Khan’s Mongol Empire army.
Wow, Mongols with martial arts!
If seen in a movie back on Earth, history enthusiasts would have been shocked, wondering where such an abomination originated. Martial arts enthusiasts would have started re-watching the movie, exclaiming, “Is Master Kim Dragon’s boom finally coming on a Hollywood scale?”
Martial arts enthusiasts were always eager for the classics. And in this “Gangho Disney Land” filled with martial arts, sorcery, spiritual creatures, Blood Immortals, and Condor Dragons, it would be evolutionarily disappointing if only the nomadic tribes lacked martial arts.
Thus, the physician sucked on a bitter decoction and spent his time analyzing Earth’s history.
In this dire situation, without reincarnation buffs, system windows, or constellations, Earth’s history was his only weapon. First, in the parallel dimension of his home planet, the Mongol army truly played the game poorly—too overpowered, too efficient. Perhaps that’s why they were also playing the villain role so effectively in the Murim world.
Real-time improvements? New arrows?
Cannons. We need more cannons.
Since the blood of the Artillery-loving K-Nation flowed through him, he concluded that greater firepower was needed to overcome this challenge. But they ultimately lacked it.
However, Physician Jin Cheon-hee jumped up and shouted inwardly.
It’s better to avoid war altogether!
But if it could have been stopped, it would have been long ago. The Empire would have pushed for a political marriage with the Suksin Tribe. Sending envoys, receiving tribute, sending return gifts. They were an opponent where traditional diplomatic methods didn’t work.
A way to stop this war…
Was this his K-Instinct talking? It was difficult to let go of the obsession with greater firepower. He wanted to increase firepower, put wheels on it to make it move, increase firepower again, and put wheels on it again to make it mobile.
Inside the infinite algorithm of his mind, Jin Cheon-hee organized his thoughts and lay down again, the weight of history pressing on his chest.