Before the Grand Young Master’s Departure. Luoyang, the Yeon Clan Estate. Wongakjeong.

“Eldest Brother…!”

Once the two siblings were finally alone, Yeon Bi, the Fourth Young Master of the Luoyang Yeon Clan, made one final, desperate appeal. “Will you not reconsider? I implore you—let me accompany you to the North!”

“Yeon Bi, you stubborn brat…” Yeon So-hyeon sighed, a touch of weary affection in his voice.

Earlier, in the presence of the others, Yeon Bi had stood tall and reliable, declaring he would safeguard Luoyang in his brother’s absence according to So-hyeon’s wishes. But now that the masks were off, his heart betrayed his earlier stoicism.

“Eldest Brother!” Yeon Bi bolted upright, his shout causing the oil lamps in the pavilion to flicker and dance in a frantic rhythm. “I cannot bear the thought of you venturing into that perilous war zone while I remain safely behind! To not be by your side… it is unbearable!”

“But—”

“I know!” Yeon Bi cut in, a rare occurrence where he didn’t wait for the Grand Young Master to finish. “I know all too well! With you gone, Luoyang will be teeming with vultures waiting for the slightest opening. I know I must be the one to fill the void you leave behind! But still…!”

Yeon Bi clutched at his chest, his fingers digging into the fabric over his heart as his voice came out in a strangled, desperate rasp. “But Eldest Brother, I…!”

Instead of his usual method of dismantling an argument with cold logic or silver-tongued persuasion, Yeon So-hyeon chose to wait. He remained silent, offering his brother the space to process the storm within. Though Yeon Bi was a brilliant and wise youth, he was still young—young enough to be occasionally swept away by the sheer intensity of his devotion to his eldest brother. So-hyeon waited because he knew that underneath the emotional outburst, Yeon Bi was fundamentally sensible. He knew the boy would realize, eventually, that he was being unreasonable.

A heavy silence stretched between them for a long moment until, finally, Yeon Bi collapsed back into his seat. He lowered his head, his voice thick with unshed tears.

“…Eldest Brother.” He took a shaky breath. “Forget my selfishness. Leave Luoyang to me. I will guard it with my life. Please… just promise me you will return safely after achieving your great works in the North.”

So-hyeon couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he watched as heavy droplets fell from Yeon Bi’s chin, staining his lap with dark, wet circles.

“…You silly boy.” After a brief hesitation, So-hyeon reached out and began to slowly, gently stroke Yeon Bi’s hair. “If you weren’t here, I wouldn’t have dared to even dream of leaving Luoyang. It is only because I have you that any of this is possible.”

He listened to the muffled sobs for a moment before speaking with absolute sincerity. “Thank you, Yeon Bi.”

As So-hyeon gave his brother’s hair one final, rough ruffle and pulled his hand away, Yeon Bi called out to him again. “Eldest Brother.”

“Yes?”

“If… if by some unthinkable chance, something goes wrong in that northern land…” Yeon Bi lifted his head. The sorrow was gone, replaced by a terrifying, vibrant emerald light of pure killing intent streaming from his eyes. “I swear to the heavens, I will hunt down every soul responsible. I will drag them into my darkness and spend ten years melting them alive, inch by agonizing inch…!”

Had anyone else been present, the mere aura of the ‘Poison Man’ Yeon Bi would have been enough to liquefy their internal organs and send them spilling out of every orifice. But here, there were only the two of them.

“Ten years to melt them alive, you say?” Instead of being horrified, the Grand Young Master burst into a boisterous, echoing laugh. “I like the sound of that! Very reliable indeed! Hahaha!”

Seeing his brother’s amused, almost patronizing reaction, Yeon Bi’s murderous aura vanished instantly. He puffed out his cheeks like an indignant pufferfish. “Eldest Brother, I am being serious.”

“I know you are.” So-hyeon reached out again, this time rummaging through Yeon Bi’s hair without restraint. “But do not worry.” A confident, sharp smile played across his lips. “Neither in the North nor anywhere else will Yeon So-hyeon fall. Not now, and not ever.”

Yeon Bi knew better than anyone that this wasn’t mere bravado or a hollow attempt to comfort him. It was a statement of absolute fact.

“Of course! Of course you won’t!” Revitalized by his brother’s certainty, Yeon Bi straightened his back.

So-hyeon chuckled. “And as it happens, there is a way you can help me with the fight in the North.”

“What is it, Eldest Brother? Tell me anything!”

Neither the Fourth Young Master’s personal retainers nor the Sichuan Tang Clan could move their main forces. Yeon Bi’s strength was required to maintain order in Luoyang, and the Tang Clan was currently occupied keeping the Emei Sect—who had foolishly aligned themselves with the Third Young Master, Yeon Jeok-gwang—in check.

“I don’t need an army. I don’t even need combatants,” So-hyeon said, raising a single finger. “Just lend me a few experts—masters of poison who can ensure their craft remains effective even on the wide, windswept plains.”

“Consider it done!” Yeon Bi replied instantly, not needing a second to think. “I will send the best of the best this very moment!”

The Fourth Young Master’s eyes flickered with a sudden realization as the logistical challenges hit him. “Wait… but Eldest Brother…”

“What is it?”

“Even for the Sichuan Tang Clan,” Yeon Bi began tentatively, his eyes filled with a mix of apology and concern, “with our current techniques, it will be difficult to make poison act in a sustained, lethal, and wide-ranging manner on the northern plains. The wind is simply too unpredictable.”

“It’s fine,” So-hyeon replied, his smile widening as if he had already accounted for the limitation.

“Pardon? But…”

“I only need the enemy’s experts to have to hold their breath for half a second longer. I only need the enemy warriors to feel a slight burden in their lungs. I only need the cohesion of their units to fray just a tiny bit.” So-hyeon held his thumb and forefinger a fraction of an inch apart. “That tiny difference…”

Yeon Bi looked at the smile brimming with absolute conviction on his brother’s face.

“In the most critical battle, that will be the winning edge that brings me victory.”

At that moment, the Fourth Young Master couldn’t fully comprehend the depth of those words. He couldn’t fathom how such a minor factor in a future battle on a distant northern field could guarantee victory.

“Of course, Eldest Brother,” Yeon Bi murmured. But simultaneously, he knew one thing for certain. “If you say it will be so, then it shall be.”

His brother was a Great Roc—a being that saw what no one else could see, thought what no one else could think, and possessed the certainty that no one else could claim.

***

Currently. The Command Center of the Dread King’s Center Army.

“(The vanguard—the men we sent to break their momentum with a counter-charge—they are collapsing without a fight…!)”

“(What of the damage to the enemy?! Did we inflict even a sliver of casualties?!)”

“(It seems… it was impossible…!)”

“(You’re telling me they died without taking a single one of them down?!)”

The command staff was in a state of utter disarray, their faces pale with shock as the battle plan spiraled into an unintended catastrophe.

“(What of the right wing, then?! What in the name of the heavens is the Right Wing Cavalry Corps doing?!)”

The left wing had already been scattered and routed after taking heavy losses, but there had been no news whatsoever from the right wing under the command of Ulchi-baatar. The scouting captain stammered, unable to provide an answer for what he hadn’t seen.

One of the generals stepped forward. “(The right wing cavalry is likely bypassing the cliff terrain to strike the enemy’s rear.)”

Immediately, the Dread King’s inner circle turned on him with scathing rebukes. “(Why would they waste time bypassing terrain in a situation like this?!)”

“(Is Ulchi-baatar a coward fleeing from the fight?!)”

The general’s face flushed with anger. “(We didn’t expect the enemy to choose a short-range breakthrough! To avoid the initial bombardment, the right wing cavalry was deployed in a circular formation around the terrain! They have no choice but to detour!)”

“(You didn’t expect a breakthrough? That’s a pathetic excuse—!)”

Other generals jumped in, cutting off the aides. “(And was it not your faulty support that left us unprepared for the enemy’s use of poison, despite knowing they possessed it?!)”

“(This is all because you bastards lined your pockets and blinded the Dread King’s eyes—!)”

“(Enough!!)”

The Dread King’s voice thundered, a massive wave of pressure that physically bowed the heads of everyone in the tent. “(Are you suggesting that I, Yelü Nuzhucha, am a fool who is easily manipulated by his subordinates?)”

“(N-No, Your Majesty…!)” The general who had been attacking the aides immediately cowered, bowing his head in terror.

Having seized control of the atmosphere, the Dread King turned to the scouting captain. “(What is the current status?)”

The captain knelt instantly. “(Though it appears to be temporary, the enemy’s poison is making it nearly impossible to halt their advance…!)”

The Dread King frowned at the euphemism. “(You mean to say we aren’t slowing them down at all?)”

“(T-That is correct, My Lord.)”

As the Dread King fell silent, the aides—unable to bear the suffocating tension—scrambled to offer alternatives. “(Y-Your Majesty…! Should we gather the Elite Warriors and deploy them now?!)”

“(Perhaps the Great Warriors should take to the field directly rather than commanding…!)”

With the front line crumbling, their suggestions were not without merit. However, the generals immediately bristled.

“(That would be a mistake!)” they roared. “(If you pull the Elite and Great Warriors from their units, the regular soldiers will become nothing but fodder! They will be useless!)”

“(Exactly! The warriors are only at their most effective when they lead the common soldiers! This is basic battlefield common sense!)”

These were men who had grown old in the saddle; their tactical reasoning was equally sound.

“(Silence!)” The Dread King shouted again, cutting off the unproductive bickering. “(The enemy draws closer with every breath! Can you not put aside your petty pride and find a strategy together?!)”

Everyone bowed their heads in shame. The Dread King continued, his voice cold. “(As long as that poison is active, deploying our Great Warriors recklessly could lead to unpredictable disasters. Therefore…)”

He called out to the figure standing in his shadow. “(Commander of the Dark-Assembled Squad.)”

“…Yes, Your Majesty.”

“(The Dark-Assembled Squad has been trained from childhood to possess a natural resistance to poisons, correct?)”

“That is true, My Lord.”

The Dark-Assembled Squad was the most notorious assassination corps of the northern tribes, their infamy reaching as far as the western world.

“(I am deploying the Dark-Assembled Squad immediately.)”

“Thy will be done.” The Commander prostrated himself, though his voice betrayed a hint of hesitation. “However, My Lord, your personal protection…”

“(I will be fine. Leave only the bare minimum required.)”

Aside from the slight weakening of the Dread King’s personal guard, the Dark-Assembled Squad was the perfect counter. They were resistant to toxins and masters of unconventional warfare. They were undoubtedly the most effective card to play against the Grand Young Master’s forces currently tearing through the chaotic front line.

“…Understood.”

As the Commander vanished to mobilize his men, leaving only a small retinue behind, the Dread King Yelü Nuzhucha narrowed his eyes and stared at the approaching storm. “(That brat, the Grand Young Master…)”

***

[Grand Young Master.]

A mental transmission arrived from Geom Gwi-hon, the Deputy Head of the Sword Forest, whose entire body was now drenched in the blood of his enemies. [I’ve been catching glimpses of some sinister-looking bastards lurking among the ranks for a while now. We should proceed with caution, my Lord.]

Another transmission followed from Elder Yeom, who was swinging his massive greatsword with reckless abandon atop his chariot. [It seems the Dread King has finally deployed the Dark-Assembled Squad.]

At the rear of the formation, Yeon So-hyeon, who had been briefly regulating his breathing and stabilizing his essence among his warriors, snapped his eyes open.

“So, they’ve finally been sent in.”

At that moment, a thin, sharp smile curved his lips.

“The winning edge has begun to tip in our favor.”