Back to the Frontline
I watched blankly as the wanderers skillfully lit a fire and cooked porridge. Then I suddenly got up and walked over.
"Would it be alright if I had some too?"
Warrior Jang readily agreed.
"Of course. But didn't your beautiful younger sister pack you a meal earlier? I thought you'd eat that."
I gave a wry smile.
"My sister's cooking skills don't match her looks. Honestly, it wasn't fit for people to eat."
The wanderers burst into laughter.
"Pfft! Hahahaha! Well, I suppose so! It wouldn't be fair if such a beautiful noble lady were also good at cooking!"
"Wahaha! Whoever marries your sister is going to suffer! Every time she says she'll make him a meal, how awkward will that be?! Khahaha!"
"Like you and your wife, eh?"
"What was that, you bastard?! …Though, yeah, you're not wrong. That's why I always head out early and come home late. I only want to see her at night! Khahahaha!"
As they laughed and joked, I glanced over at the bushes where I had thrown away the rice balls.
Squirrels and bugs that had eaten them were lying dead in piles.
On the frontlines, the survival rate of comrades was about thirty percent after three years.
In other words, if I was still alive after three years, it meant that two of the three comrades beside me had died.
Well, that was the rate for the next five years. After that, it dropped to below ten percent.
And among those two, if one was killed by the Blood Sect's demonic lords or fiends, the other was usually killed by his comrades.
By comrades who, without anyone realizing, had already been soul-corrupted by the enemy.
That was why we had to watch each other closely.
Watching for any sign of change. Watching in case someone stabbed us from behind.
Yeonha, who came to see me yesterday, was very different from the girl I remembered.
And the fact that she came to see me off today was also different from my past life.
In my previous life, she hadn't even come to see me off. This time, strangely, she had even gone so far as to cook. That alone was suspicious enough to warrant caution.
But above all—her eyes.
Though her words sounded worried for me, the eyes that looked at me carried emotions completely different.
Unfathomable hatred and contempt.
Those who had their souls consumed by the Blood Sect lost all emotion in their eyes.
So Yeonha's change wasn't due to soul-corruption.
No—I had to admit it now.
Yeonha hadn't changed.
It was the foolish me back then who failed to notice.
From the very beginning, nothing she did was truly for me.
And if someone could possibly kill Danhasang, it wouldn't necessarily have to be my brothers.
"…Huuuu."
I let out a deep sigh.
My chest felt suffocated.
It felt as though I had lost the one true family member I thought I had in those thirty years.
Just when I thought I had finally gained one by realizing Father's sincerity, I lost another.
Perhaps I was fated to only ever have one family member.
A bitter laugh escaped me.
Trying to shake off the heaviness, I rose and asked Warrior Jang,
"May I borrow a dao for a while?"
"A dao? We carry some as spares—use that one. But don't you normally use a sword, Young Master?"
"Haha, truthfully I'm not much good with swords either. Thank you."
While the meal cooked, I began swinging the dao.
In this body, I wasn't familiar with either sword or dao. Using techniques now would be no better than a worm writhing.
True masters, I recalled, were not strong because of techniques but because of fundamentals.
The real experts I had seen could slaughter lesser fighters with nothing but basic cuts and thrusts.
So I had to lose weight and train my basics at the same time.
And from experience, when my heart was heavy, slashing felt far more relieving than thrusting.
The journey afterward became continuous training.
At every stop, I kept running. Once I grew a bit accustomed to it, I began swinging sword and dao as I ran.
During rest or even sleep time, I cut my hours short to meditate on internal arts.
With the frontline drawing closer, I couldn't afford to waste even a single moment.
That place was hell itself. In my past life, I'd often escaped danger only by being excluded due to weakness. This time, being on the frontline as weak as before would only increase the chance of an early death.
So if I didn't want to die, I had to give it my all.
After watching me for several days, Warrior Jang suddenly spoke during a meal.
"In all my life, I've never seen someone train as relentlessly as you, Young Master. At first I thought you wouldn't last long, but seeing you makes me ashamed. You inspire me to live more earnestly."
The other wanderers also nodded with approving eyes.
I gave an awkward laugh.
"I'm only struggling desperately because I don't want to die. If I'd lived like this from the start, why would I have gotten fat?"
But Warrior Jang shook his head.
"I may only be second-rate even at this age, but I've eaten enough steel rice to have some eye for skill. When I watch you wield the sword and dao, you don't look like a beginner. You look like an old master who has retired."
One wanderer asked curiously,
"What do you mean by that, brother?"
"The Young Master's strikes are slow, yes, but they show the path of someone who already knows where to go. Unlike beginners, who swing blindly, learning step by step, he repeats movements already known. That makes progress far faster."
"Ahhh."
"True enough. Watching Young Master Seonu swing, he does look strangely experienced."
Warrior Jang looked at me again.
"I don't know what you've been through, but it seems your life has not been easy. I thought the life of a noble heir would be different from ours."
His words carried unexpected weight. I gave a bitter smile and lowered my head in acknowledgment.
As he said, I was changing rapidly.
Though the distance that would've taken two days on horseback took me a week, in that short time my fat had melted away. My sword, dao, and fist techniques, though far from perfect, had grown noticeably proficient.
It was around then—about seven days after we departed.
Panting as I ran, an arrow suddenly came flying at me.
Swish!
"Uht!"
Keeping one's senses open was the most basic rule for Flying Dragon members. No matter how tired, I would never let my guard down enough to be hit by an arrow curving through the air.
I could have easily deflected it with my sword, but to be safe, I rolled aside.
Thud!
Hmm. Such a smooth roll…
I felt proud of how nimble my body had become.
Then, laughter rang out.
"Puhahahaha! What was that?! Looked just like a bear rolling around!"
"Hahaha! Exactly, boss! Seems even bears can roll, eh?!"
At the sudden attack and voices, Warrior Jang and the wanderers drew their blades and shouted,
"Who goes there?! What scoundrels dare ambush us, ignoring the code of the martial world?!"
Armed men began pouring out of the surrounding forest.
"Wahaha! Soon-to-die fools dare talk about martial codes? Throw down your weapons and surrender!"
There were over thirty of them.
And among them, the biggest, fiercest-looking man wore a leopard skin and carried a massive axe. He was clearly no ordinary ruffian.
Warrior Jang muttered under his breath,
"Green Tiger Chief Magu-sam? Why would the Green Tiger Stronghold be here?"
Green Tiger Stronghold?
Yes, I had heard of them.
Their base was in Green Tiger Mountain near Heungin, and their chieftain was notorious in Guizhou for his monstrous strength and savage temper.
Ordinary bandits were usually no better than third-rate riffraff, but this one was rare—an end-stage second-rate martial artist who had actually learned real martial arts.
Warrior Jang cupped his fists and shouted,
"I have long heard of the Green Tiger Chief's reputation! It is an honor to meet you in person!"
He was likely trying to open negotiations.
It was only natural. They had more than thirty men, while we numbered only six. Not only were we outnumbered, but none of us could truly claim higher martial skill.
But these were the very men who had just loosed arrows with intent to kill. There was no way they were here to talk.
"Khahahaha! You call it an honor? Then it'll be even more of an honor when you die!"
"Khahahaha! Well said, boss!"
"Let's kill them quick, boss!"
Their savage laughter and jeers made Warrior Jang grit his teeth. He shouted again,
"If you wish, we are willing to pay a toll! Why spill blood when this can be settled with words?!"
Then he whispered quietly to me,
"Young Master, if a fight breaks out, take the horse and flee. We won't be able to hold them off for long."
His words moved me deeply.
Most wanderers only thought of their own gain, quick to stab you in the back. What fortune had I, to meet men like these?
No doubt Father had carefully chosen only trustworthy ones.
At Jang's offer, Magu-sam snorted.
"A toll? Fine, a toll it is! Your entire wealth will do. Clothes, horse, sword, everything! Strip bare and run away, and we won't chase you!"
"Khahahaha! Better start stripping!"
"Boss, if one's backside looks good, can we take them too? Khahaha!"
Realizing there was no room for negotiation, Warrior Jang whispered urgently to me,
"Young Master! Quickly, mount your horse! We don't have time!"
But I didn't listen.
Instead, I strode forward and shouted,
"You curs! You dare lay hands on me, the third son of the Seonu family?! You truly wish for utter annihilation?!"
Their laughter stopped cold. They stared at me with dumbfounded expressions.
Magu-sam scowled and asked,
"Hey, bear-face! You claim you're the third son of the Seonu clan?!"
"That's right! Green Tiger Chief Magu-sam! You dare ambush me, digging your own grave?!"
I had once heard in my past life about bandits who targeted the heirs of martial families on their way to the frontlines.
They would pick out the ones who looked weak and easy, ambush them, and kill them. Many noble heirs fell victim before the bandits were finally hunted down and exterminated.
They preyed on small to mid-tier martial clans' sons, who traveled with only a few companions, carrying plenty of wealth to last years away from home.
Which meant—they never left witnesses.
Even minor martial clans wouldn't tolerate leaving grudges unresolved.
These bandits didn't attack just anyone. They chose only those who seemed safe targets.
And right now, they clearly thought I was one.
But look at them now.
The moment they heard "third son of the Seonu clan," they froze in alarm.
I thundered again,
"Why are you silent?! Did you not hear me ask—do you admit you ambushed me, the third son of the Seonu clan?!"
One of them, his face twisted like he'd swallowed dung, shouted back,
"How do we know a bear-faced brat like you is the Seonu clan's third son?! If it's not a lie, prove it!"
I sneered.
"Why would I need to prove myself? I am clearly of the Seonu clan! And how exactly would you have me prove it?! Shall I summon my father, the clan head?!"
The man roared angrily,
"You'll prove it here and now! Otherwise, whether you're third son or eldest, you'll die on the spot!"
Feigning unease, I fumbled inside my robes and pulled out a token.
"Will this token, symbol of the clan, suffice?!"
Of course, from five or six jang away, there was no way he could see it clearly.
He shouted, pointing at it,
"Throw it here! Let me check!"
I barked back indignantly,
"You dare demand the symbol of my clan?! Nonsense! If you can't see, then come closer and see for yourself!"
He scowled.
"Are you mocking me?! You come here and show me!"
His furious bellow made me flinch, my voice trembling as I asked,
"If I come closer, won't you attack me?!"
He exploded,
"Come now, or I'll cut you down immediately!"
Hesitating, I staggered forward reluctantly, until I stood only two jang from him.
Then, wearing a conflicted look, I said,
"F-fine! I'll just throw it from here. But you must return it afterward!"
Looking at me with disdain, he shouted impatiently,
"Just throw it already!"
"V-very well."
I hurled the token upward with all my strength.
I must have thrown it a bit too hard—it soared high, then fell just behind his head. He tilted back to catch it.
"Got it!"
Thwack!
He caught it, then glanced at the inscription.
"Huh? Guiyang… Banquet House?"
It was a token from Guiyang's famous Banquet House, given only to regular patrons. He wouldn't know it, of course.
That was the moment.
Shluk!
"Guhhhk!"
Closing the two-jang gap in an instant, my sword pierced his heart.
It was the move called Ilssi Sail (One Strike, One Kill) from the Sa-il Sword Technique—hailed by the disciples of Jeomchang Sect as the fastest thrust in the world.