The Frontline
"Kehehehehehe! Woman, you're mine!"
"Come here, pretty thing!"
Six of the Twin-Sickle Seven Fiends rushed at Tang Yeoeun with wild laughter.
But then, something they had never expected happened.
Tang Yeoeun, who had been charging to meet them, suddenly halted—and then turned to flee.
For a woman famed even among the Blood Cultists for her unyielding spirit, never once retreating, it was unthinkable.
"Wh-what?!"
"Stop, wench!"
Panicked, the Fiends chased her at once. Tang Yeoeun glanced back as she ran, and a sharp, mocking smile curled across her lips.
It was the kind of smile that even these vicious Fiends found unsettling.
"Don't tell me…?"
Just then, from the thick brush ahead, several warriors burst out.
Puuuak!
Each wielded a weapon sheathed in dazzling qi—the unmistakable aura of pinnacle masters.
"Haaap!"
Shiiiing!
The first to strike, faster than an arrow, was a man whose sword pierced straight through the chest of the youngest Fiend, who had been carrying off a woman.
Puuuk!
It was One Sword for One Life—the ultimate strike of the Mt. Zhen Sword Sect's Four Sword Arts—swift beyond compare. Seoun Jin himself had once used that very form, though never with such brilliance.
"Guhhh!"
"Little brother!"
"It's Sword Dragon of Mt. Zhen—Sa Gunil! It's a trap!"
Even as panic spread, Tang Yeoeun whirled, her voice ringing:
"Fools of the Blood Cult! Only now do you realize?!"
Her sword, sheathed in bright green qi, clashed with the second brother's twin sickles. At the same time, the third Fiend faced something entirely different—an immense blade of deep indigo qi, a full zhang long, bearing down upon him.
Kwaaaang!
"Ughhh! P-Pungyang?!"
His opponent was none other than the Thirteen's leader, the Storm Sabre Rogue, Pungyang.
The taciturn middle-aged sabre master's strikes came like a raging storm, battering mercilessly.
Kwak-kwak-kwak-kwak-kwakwhaaaang!
"Gyaaaagh!"
The third Fiend slashed desperately with his twin sickles, but he was like a small boat about to capsize in a typhoon.
Meanwhile, as Sa Gunil rescued the abducted woman, three more of the younger Fiends found themselves attacked by blades as light as the breeze.
A soft-faced young man, always looking half-asleep, murmured as he passed them like the wind:
"I was having a good dream. You woke me."
Puhwaaak!
"Gyaaaagh!"
When he passed, the fifth brother's chest erupted in blood, sliced open in a web of cuts.
"It's Cheongpung Sword Dragon—Han Gyoseong!"
Indeed, it was the Sword Dragon of Clear Wind, Han Gyoseong—hailed as a prodigy even among the many talents of the Mt. Qingcheng Sect, and commander of the First Squad of the Thirteen.
"This—this can't be! Aaaagh!"
Unable to withstand the onslaught, the third brother was slain by Storm Sabre Rogue Pungyang, while the others were cut down just as swiftly by Sa Gunil and Han Gyoseong.
Only the second brother, Gu Yojil, managed to break free. After a furious flurry against Tang Yeoeun, he turned and fled.
"Big brother! It's a trap! Our brothers are—!"
The eldest, Jimak, saw and his face twisted with rage.
In an instant, most of his brothers lay dead. His fury nearly consumed his mind.
But he had no choice. He had to flee.
"You bastards! I'll remember this!"
"Where do you think you're going?!"
Anticipating his escape, Sword Hawk Ma Yugyeom slashed with his sword.
Shhhak!
But it only grazed Jimak's arm.
"Gyaagh! You cur!"
Howling, the eldest of the Twin-Sickle Seven Fiends vanished into the distance.
In the end, five of the seven were slain—but the eldest and second, both pinnacle masters, escaped.
Meanwhile, freed from captivity, Squad 4's warrior Son Harang wept bitterly over the corpse of her lover.
"Jung-rang! Jung-rang!"
Her comrades stood around her in silence, their faces heavy with grief.
Then, a figure shot down from the forest canopy like a falling star.
It was a young warrior, tall and broad-shouldered.
"I'm late! What's the situation? Was it the Seven Fiends again?!"
But at once, Sword Hawk Ma Yugyeom seized him by the collar and roared:
"Seolpung, you bastard! Why are you only coming now?! Did you forget we agreed all pinnacle masters gather immediately when a red signal is fired?!"
Even with his collar caught, Seolpung glanced at Son Harang sobbing beside the corpse before answering quietly:
"Sorry. We were ambushed too."
But Ma Yugyeom spat only more fury:
"You expect me to believe you were delayed by mere Hangu-i? If you'd been here, we could've caught another Fiend—maybe even all of them!"
"…I said I'm sorry."
"'Sorry'? That's all? You irresponsible bastard! This is why I said trash without lineage should never be made captains!"
At his outburst, the other squad leaders frowned. Just then, a woman dropped down behind Seolpung and cried out:
"Enough! Captain Ma!"
"Hmph! Naseoyu? What, you siding with this stray cur just because he's your captain?!"
Her face hardened.
"I will not tolerate another insult against our captain! While Squad 7 was fighting five Hangu-i, a Jugu (Spider Ghost) suddenly ambushed us! Two of our people died! Captain Seolpung killed the Jugu and two Hangu-i himself—without that, half our squad would have perished!"
Ma Yugyeom flinched.
"A Jugu…?"
The Jugu was as stealthy as the Hyo-gwi, but far more dangerous—it saw with its eyes, absorbed human essence, and grew stronger with time. The iron rule was to slay it as soon as discovered. In such a situation, Seolpung could hardly have left immediately.
Yet Ma Yugyeom only snorted and turned away.
"Hmph. Is that so?"
Naseoyu shouted after him, furious:
"Is that all? Apologize to Captain Seolpung at once!"
But Ma Yugyeom walked on without looking back. When she moved to shout again, Seolpung stopped her.
"Let it go, Vice-captain. He just lost a squad member."
"But so did we!"
"I'll be fine. Don't trouble yourself."
Seeing his awkward smile, Naseoyu sighed and shook her head.
"Honestly, Captain. Why do you always turn soft the moment the fighting ends?"
At that, another voice cut in—the cool, striking beauty Tang Yeoeun.
"She's right. Seolpung, it's because you're so soft that Ma Yugyeom keeps treating you like that. If you keep playing the fool, you'll only make things harder for your squad."
"Haha… you think so?"
At her words, Seolpung stammered, his face stiff. Tang Yeoeun shook her head in disbelief and turned away.
Meanwhile, Han Gyoseong of the First Squad yawned and spoke:
"Yaaawn. Anyway, let's head back. I was just sleepy before, but now I'm starving. Oh right, Chief, weren't some new recruits arriving today?"
Storm Sabre Rogue Pungyang, the Thirteen's leader, nodded silently. Taciturn as ever, he had not spoken a word since the battle.
Han Gyoseong only grinned and nodded back, as though used to it.
"They won't be worth much at first, but still—better than nothing."
With that, he leapt away, and one by one, the others followed.
Just as Seolpung was about to depart, Sa Gunil of the Second Squad caught his shoulder.
"Mm?"
Turning back, Seolpung saw Sa Gunil's cold face soften slightly as he murmured:
"I'll apologize in his stead. Sorry, Seolpung."
Then he too leapt away.
Seolpung chuckled faintly and followed.
Such was an ordinary day for the Feilong Thirteen.
We registered our details at the 2nd Headquarters of the Grand Anti-Blood-Cult Frontline, then, under the guidance of a runner, were led straight to the Feilong Thirteen.
The new recruits gathered at the Second Headquarters numbered about twenty in total, but those who applied to the Feilong Thirteen were only myself, Lady Cheongyeon, and a youthful-looking, sweet-faced girl named Cheon Jueun.
For me, I had simply remembered the Seonu Thirteen Swords from my previous life and applied without much thought. But for most, the Thirteen weren't exactly a popular choice.
That was entirely due to the division's excessively young age range.
While we waited in the lounge for the vice-captain, Lady Cheongyeon suddenly asked me:
"Could it be that the Thirteen are the youngest because all the seasoned warriors have died?"
I gave a bitter smile.
It was an all-too-accurate observation.
"That does seem to be the case… though, to be fair, the entire Feilong Corps is trending younger, not just the Thirteen. So perhaps it isn't such a great difference."
That was a lie.
Yes, the Corps as a whole was getting younger—but the Thirteen's case was extreme.
In my past life, among the Thirteen, the only warriors past middle age had been the division captain and the vice-captain.
Lady Cheongyeon shook her head.
"That's dire indeed. No veteran warriors are volunteering, and the sects are forced to conscript their young disciples instead?"
Once again, her insight impressed me.
She had deduced it so quickly from only a few facts.
I nodded with admiration.
"Exactly so."
At this, the wide-eyed Cheon Jueun, who had been listening at our side, asked curiously:
"Why don't the veteran warriors volunteer?"
In my past life, I had been in a different squad from her, and she had died fairly early on, so we'd had almost no connection. But from her question, it seemed she had not been forcibly conscripted by her sect.
If she had, she would already know the reason.
"Because there are no benefits—no gain, no fame."
"Gain? Fame?"
"Nothing from the frontlines is ever allowed to leak outside. That means no matter how many merits you earn here, no matter how miserably you die, the outside world will never know. Even the chivalrous who care nothing for profit still value reputation and honor. But here, there is only danger without recognition. Naturally, they avoid it."
"Ahhh."
She nodded, understanding.
At that moment, the waiting room door opened, and a middle-aged man with a goat-like beard stepped in.
It was the vice-captain of the Thirteen—Swift Sword Guest, Heon Yeongbo.
At the sight of him, I let out a hollow laugh.
A chatterbox, a coward, and authoritarian to boot—yet I'd never imagined the day I'd feel glad to see him.
With a pompous voice, he announced:
"Greetings. I am the vice-captain of the Thirteen, Swift Sword Guest Heon Yeongbo. Surely you've heard of me?"
He muttered the "vice-" softly but boomed out the "captain" part—just as I remembered.
I had been about to play along politely, but Lady Cheongyeon cut in first, asking flatly:
"No, I haven't. Were you famous?"
His face twisted instantly, though he forced himself to maintain composure as he replied:
"Mm… there are many masters at the frontlines forgotten due to secrecy vows. It seems your horizons are a little limited."
But his self-justification crumbled at Cheongyeon's next question, head tilted innocently:
"Is that so? I thought I remembered nearly all the pinnacle masters. Are you one, then?"
This time, his face contorted completely.
Among the young squad leaders, some had already reached the pinnacle. But he, despite being vice-captain, had not. That sore point had gnawed at him for years.
I thought to intervene—but I was too busy holding back my laughter.
This blunt, peculiar young lady truly was extraordinary.
"Ughh. Enough! We're short on time, so let's move on to squad assignments. The squad leaders are already gathered."
Snatching the sealed letter from my hand, he skimmed it.
"Third son of the Seonu Clan, Seoun Jin… oh? Seonu Clan?"
At that, his gaze toward me softened markedly.
Then he read again:
"Cheon Jueun, eldest daughter of the Cheon Clan of Guizhou Archery? Guizhou Archery… that's a Demonic Faction sect, isn't it?"
His brows furrowed as he looked at her, and Cheon Jueun's expression turned timid as she lowered her gaze.
It was surprising for me too.
For the daughter of a demonic sect to volunteer for a frontline unit under the Martial Alliance—remarkable indeed.
But Heon Yeongbo read on—and then his face twisted, his voice rising.
"What's this? Name: Cheongyeon. Sect: undisclosed. Parents: undisclosed?"
It was Lady Cheongyeon's personal record.
She had introduced herself to me the same way—surname Cheong, given name Yeon.
And yet, remembering how Lady Jegal had called her "Cheongyeon-ah," it was impossible that was her real surname. Clearly, she had reasons she could not reveal her identity.
"Yes. I am Cheongyeon."
She answered calmly. Heon Yeongbo seized upon it with a predatory glare.
"So, you don't even know that those with unclear identity cannot volunteer for the frontlines?!"
I stared at him incredulously.
What a blatant lie.
Even Captain Seolpung of the Seventh—nobody knew his background.
Cheongyeon tilted her head, replying:
"The headquarters never mentioned that."
At once, Heon Yeongbo puffed up, shouting:
"Well, in our Thirteen, it will not do! Either declare your sect and parents immediately, or go apply to another Feilong division!"
Lady Cheongyeon's face stiffened ever so slightly.
She clearly had not expected this.
I sighed from the side.
It seemed my gladness at seeing this petty man had lasted only until he opened his mouth.
So I interjected casually:
"Lady Cheongyeon is a friend of Lady Jegal, who once visited our Seonu Clan."
He snorted.
"Lady Jegal? Who's that supposed to be? And what does that prove?"
But from his eyes, it was plain he had just recalled something.
"Yes, precisely—the very Lady Jegal you've just remembered: Heavenly Sword Blossom, Jegal Seoyul. Lady Cheongyeon is her friend."
His pupils dilated wide.
"H-Heavenly Sword Blossom…?"
"As you know, the cherished daughter of the Jegal Clan, jewel among jewels. And daughter of Elder Jegal Jigang, strategist of the Martial Alliance."
His jaw dropped.
"N-no, that can't be! Why would such a lady be on the frontlines?!"
I was curious myself—but I only gave him a sly smile.
"I don't know the exact reason. But surely there must be one. Perhaps something involving high figures of the Alliance."
"T-to think…"
And with that, it was over.
Heon Yeongbo fell silent, adopting an overly polite manner as he led us.
When he guided us into a small meeting room, I couldn't help but let out a sigh.
For gathered there were all those faces I could never forget.