The warriors of the Third Young Master’s allied camp stood paralyzed. As they watched the elite legions of the Dread King Yelü Nuzhucha crumble before their eyes, a heavy, suffocating sense of defeat began to take root in their hearts.
“Why… why hasn’t the order to charge been given?”
“We finished our preparations ages ago…”
The absence of a decisive leader was a poison. Even before the first blow was struck, the lack of a command despite their readiness slowly drained their will to fight.
Tsk.
“Even if we go in now, in that state…”
Clicks of tongues followed the sight of the Dread King’s collapsing vanguard.
“Damn it, just look at those Sword Clan bastards fight…!”
“Was the intel wrong? They said the Sword Clan had weakened after years of power struggles due to the lack of an heir.”
The combat prowess displayed by the Grand Young Master’s forces far exceeded any report or expectation. It was overwhelming.
“Maybe… it’s better if we don’t have to fight them properly.”
…Sigh.
The specter of loss had possessed them before the battle even began. Grand Young Master Yeon So-hyeon hadn’t just broken Grand Strategist Sima; he had dismantled the fighting spirit of every last low-ranking soldier in the alliance.
But then, it happened.
“GRAND STRATEGIST SIMA!”
The one individual capable of overturning everything had returned.
“The Third Young Master?!”
“Is it true? Has he returned?!”
The news of Yeon Jeok-gwang’s arrival surged through the camp faster than a wildfire across a parched plain.
“What the hell—! While I was gone—! What the fuck are you all doing sitting around with your hands tied?!”
Yeon Jeok-gwang knew nothing of tactical advantages or disadvantages. Because he was ignorant of such calculations, lacking the capacity to even try, his voice carried a different weight.
“Right now—!”
In his shout, there was no trace of the collective defeatism or the sliver of anxiety that plagued common men.
“Everyone, prepare to charge—!”
His command, overflowing with brash, unadulterated spirit, struck something deep within the souls of the warriors, and that suppressed tension suddenly erupted into a raw, feral bloodlust.
“WAAAAAAAGH!”
“Battle stations! Prepare to engage!”
The leaders of the various sects and factions had no time to reconsider or even relay the orders. An earth-shattering roar burst from the allied warriors.
“Let’s go, you bastards!”
They charged like an unstoppable landslide.
“Good! That’s it!”
Yeon Jeok-gwang let out a manic, satisfied laugh that crackled with murderous intent. “This is how it should have been from the start!”
He spurred his exhausted warhorse, pushing it to the brink to catch up with Grand Strategist Sima’s armored carriage.
Crack!
Neigh!
The horse’s ankle snapped under the strain, and it tumbled to the ground.
“Pathetic, weak beast!”
Yeon Jeok-gwang leaped from the saddle before the animal hit the dirt, spitting on the dying creature as he passed. He sprinted forward, using the heads of passing cavalrymen as stepping stones.
“Argh?!”
“Gah?!”
With a heavy thud, he latched onto the side of Sima’s moving armored carriage and hammered on the exterior.
“Fuck! Open the window right now!”
“…”
The senior strategist sitting by the window fumbled to open the latch, his face pale with shock.
“You slow-witted shits!”
The delay was more than Yeon Jeok-gwang’s temper could handle. “Get away from the window!”
Still hanging on with one hand, he reached out and literally tore the heavy, iron-reinforced door off its hinges.
Creeeeak… Snap!
The door, specially designed to protect the Grand Strategist from assassination attempts, was shredded like wet parchment.
“What in the…?”
Ignoring the strategists who stared in slack-jawed horror at his monstrous strength, Yeon Jeok-gwang barked at the old man sitting inside. “Grand Strategist Sima! Status report! Now!”
It was an absurd sequence of events, ordering a charge first, then asking for a report. Under normal circumstances, he would have been lambasted for his recklessness.
“Third Young Master!”
But in this singular moment, his raw, unyielding aggression felt like a cool breeze to the stifled men in the carriage.
“The situation is heavily against us…!” Sima shouted back. The old man stood up, energized by a sudden, inexplicable surge of vigor as the carriage jolted beneath them.
“Woah, woah!”
“Hold the Grand Strategist!”
The strategists scrambled to steady the swaying old man.
“I can see that with my own goddamn eyes!” Yeon Jeok-gwang roared.
“It isn’t just about the Dread King’s front!” Sima’s voice, which had been buried under layers of weariness, finally burst forth with clarity. “Every faction in our New Martial Righteous Alliance, including the Zhuge and Sima Clans, will withdraw from the North the moment this battle ends!”
“What the fuck did you just say?” Yeon Jeok-gwang shoved his head through the opening where the door used to be, his expression more bewildered than panicked. “What about the Namgung Clan?!”
The Namgung were his maternal relatives and his most steadfast partners in his quest for power within Luoyang. “The Namgung wouldn’t pull out, right?!”
Thump!
The carriage hit a large boulder and lurched so violently it nearly overturned. Amidst the screams of the strategists, the two men continued their frantic exchange.
“I am sorry, but the Namgung main house was the first to sever ties!”
Even Yeon Jeok-gwang, who cared for nothing but martial arts and blood, understood the gravity of that statement.
“Goddamn it…!” He slammed his fist onto the roof of the carriage, the metal denting under the blow. “What the hell was Elder Namgung Hyeok-cheon doing back in the Clan while things got this bad?!”
Elder Namgung Hyeok-cheon was a key pillar of the Third Young Master’s faction within Luoyang. He had stayed behind to manage the political machinations, delay the Grand Young Master’s main army, and handle internal affairs.
“…About that,” Sima said, his expression turning bitter. “The remaining members of the Military Strategy Bureau within the Clan have been trying to reach him, but he isn’t responding.”
“What?!”
***
At that same hour, in Luoyang.
Inside the main estate of the Luoyang Sword Clan, the rooms were swallowed by the gathering twilight. Elder Namgung Hyeok-cheon sat alone in the dark, not even bothering to light an oil lamp.
“…Elder.”
A voice came from the shadows behind him. It was a close aide. “The Military Strategy Bureau is still searching for you.”
There was no reply. The aide stepped closer and cautiously pulled a letter from his robes. “And this just arrived from the Namgung main house.”
At the mention of his clan, Namgung Hyeok-cheon finally broke his silence, his voice raspy and hollow. “…What does it say?”
“They have struck an agreement with the Fourth Young Master to withdraw from the North, and so—”
Namgung Hyeok-cheon cut him off. “—And so, they expect me to quietly follow the clan’s will and step down.”
“Well…”
“And I imagine they added that if I don’t comply, they’ll strip me of my position within the family.”
The aide, struggling for words, gave a heavy nod. “…Yes, sir.”
Namgung Hyeok-cheon turned to look at him. “What kind of generous terms did the Grand Young Master’s side offer for the entire New Martial Righteous Alliance to flip in an instant?”
“I am not entirely sure, sir,” the aide bowed his head. “But from what we’ve gathered, the Fourth Young Master didn’t even demand any irreversible commitments during the negotiation—”
Crash!
The Elder kicked the table in front of him, shattering the expensive wood and sending ornaments sprawling across the floor. He panted heavily, growling like a wounded beast.
“So… if the Third Young Master happens to win, those bastards plan to just slide back in as if nothing happened?”
He saw through the Great Clans’ scheme in an instant. It was a testament to the political acumen that had made him the head of the Third Young Master’s faction, but it was useless now.
“I… I don’t quite understand what you mean, sir…”
Namgung Hyeok-cheon had no energy left for explanations. “Dammit…!” He clutched his head, the veins on his forehead bulging. “Do those sons of bitches really intend to offer me, Namgung Hyeok-cheon, as a sacrificial lamb?! How dare they…!”
Suddenly, a voice rang out from the entrance, a voice that shouldn’t have been there.
“My, my.”
“Who’s there?!” The aide reached for his sword, his eyes wide with alarm.
“Stop,” Namgung Hyeok-cheon commanded, raising a hand.
“Elder…?”
A cheerful, almost flippant laugh echoed through the room. “Don’t worry,” the intruder said, stepping into the dim light. He looked at the startled aide. “Elder Namgung and I already had a standing appointment to meet.”
“Y-you…!” The aide gasped as he recognized the man. “Yeon Ha-eung, the Rumor with Legs?!”
There was no one in Luoyang who didn’t know Yeon Ha-eung, the man nicknamed the Rumor with Legs. But what shocked the aide more than his presence was his allegiance.
“You’re one of the Grand Young Master’s men!”
It was true. Yeon Ha-eung belonged to the enemy camp.
“Elder?! What is the meaning of—”
“Is it really that hard to figure out?” Yeon Ha-eung strolled into the room with a jaunty stride and sat down as if he owned the place. He looked at the aide. “If the Third Young Master loses this war, your master here will lose his place in the Sword Clan.”
Namgung Hyeok-cheon’s eyes narrowed with distaste, but Yeon Ha-eung ignored the pressure and kept talking. “And even if the Third Young Master somehow wins… with that foul temper of his, he will absolutely—”
Yeon Ha-eung emphasized the word. “—absolutely punish Elder Namgung for the clan’s withdrawal!”
“That’s…!” The aide’s eyes wavered. “But the Elder would only be following the main house’s orders under duress—”
“—Since when was the Third Young Master a man who cared about such nuances?”
The aide fell silent, unable to find a rebuttal. If he followed the Namgung Clan, the Third Young Master would kill him. If he didn’t follow the Namgung Clan, the Namgung would destroy him.
“…Enough.” Namgung Hyeok-cheon gestured to his subordinate. “Leave us.”
With those words, the Elder sat down opposite the Grand Young Master’s agent.
“Elder…!”
“I said get out!”
Driven back by the sheer, sharp intensity of the Elder’s roar, the aide was forced to retreat.
I will survive!
Namgung Hyeok-cheon thought of the decades he had spent within the Sword Clan, territory that was practically enemy ground for a Namgung, and of the sacrifices, the efforts, the blood he had spilled to climb the ranks of this den of demons to reach the position of Elder.
I will survive, no matter what!
He would live, and he would have his revenge. Sparks of fury flickered in his eyes.
Looking at the toxic, desperate expression on the Elder’s face, Yeon Ha-eung gave a bright, toothy grin. “Now then. Elder Namgung…”
He leaned in. “Just how much are you willing to do for my master, the Grand Young Master?”
Namgung Hyeok-cheon’s answer was a jagged, spat-out whisper. “Everything…!”
***
“Fuck! Namgung Hyeok-cheon…! That goddamn old geezer…! I knew he was a snake from the very beginning…!”
Yeon Jeok-gwang radiated a black, suffocating rage that made the surrounding strategists tremble uncontrollably. In this state, he looked less like a man and more like a monster unable to contain its own power.
“Third Young Master,” Sima said. “This is still only a possibility, a hypothesis of mine.”
“I don’t give a fuck!”
Clang!
Yeon Jeok-gwang drew his sword and let out a primal, howling roar. “What does it matter?! I’ll just kill everyone here! If I win, everything is solved, isn’t it?!”
Whether it was his naturally violent disposition or his current, bizarre state of mind, his voice was saturated with a terrifying level of bloodlust.
“I’ll kill them all here! And then I’ll kill some more! After I’ve slaughtered everyone, I’ll go back and deal with the Great Clans! I’ll hunt down every single one of those traitors and rip their throats out!”
With eyes burning with madness, Yeon Jeok-gwang snapped his head to the side and stared toward the distant cliff.
“YOUUUUUUUU!”
Because of the distance, no common master could have seen the figure on the precipice, but Yeon Jeok-gwang’s gaze locked onto the dark silhouette with unerring precision, and he let out a thunderous, guttural howl.
“COME DOWN HERE, YEON SO-HYEON!”