Yang So Meets the Thunder Sword
Yang So, the strategist of Northwest Murim. Gripped by the bitter anguish of his first defeat in life, he had no choice but to flee toward the outskirts of a city ruled by a close friend—only to be struck dumb with astonishment.
"Strategist! It's the Northern banners!"
one of his aides cried out in alarm.
The massive flag fluttering atop the city gates was unmistakably the banner symbolizing Northern Murim. And beside it, a severed head caked in dried blood was impaled on a pole, left on public display.
It was Yang So's friend.
"Strategist, this place is too dangerous. We must move quickly."
Yang So tore his reluctant feet away once more.
After two full days of nonstop travel like this, another city appeared—and its ramparts too flew the banners of Northern Murim. Yang So had no choice but to head south again.
And a day later, upon learning that a suspicious group was pursuing them from behind, he hid in the forest.
Reduced overnight to a fugitive scrambling just to stay alive, Yang So seethed with such rage that he even developed a stomach ailment.
How the hell did this happen...?
He had replayed the events hundreds, thousands of times on the way down here, but he couldn't pinpoint any clear mistakes on his part. The only conclusion was that the enemy had moved with even greater precision.
Yeon-hoo hasn't even been lord of the North for a full year yet...
In that short time, the North had transformed into an entirely different force. One powerful enough to unilaterally crush them, despite their own overwhelming might. And hadn't they held the initiative themselves?
It was then.
Crunch.
The forest rustled as figures emerged.
Shing! Shing!
Yang So's guards drew their swords in unison. But they soon lowered them, their faces lighting up.
"Elder Sama!"
The one who had put Yang So and everyone on edge was none other than Elder Sama Jung.
Having taken over the secret assassin organization in place of Go Tae-bo, Sama Jung had joined the battle to assassinate Northern Legion Commander Yun Hoe.
But his appearance was wretched. His robe was torn in places, charred black in others, and covered in wounds.
He slowly scanned Yang So and his hundred-odd guards, then shook his head in dismay.
"Is this all the force you have?"
"......"
Yang So couldn't bring himself to answer.
"Why the hell did you issue the retreat order?!"
Fury laced Sama Jung's voice.
Yang So shot back, glaring at him.
"You're the one who reported that the vanguard was in crisis after the enemy cavalry struck their flank, aren't you?"
"Even so, we could've held out!"
"Now you're trying to dodge responsibility with that nonsense. When I got the report, the vanguard was already in full rout, scattered to the winds. I saw it with my own eyes and made the call."
Yang So, who rarely raised his voice, flushed red and spat as he pressed the point fiercely. Sama Jung was left speechless.
In truth, just as Yang So said, he had intended to shift blame onto the retreat order to everyone around him.
"Enough from both of you. Our priority now is getting back to the lord's stronghold as fast as possible and regrouping, isn't it?"
"He's right, Elder. Let it go."
"Hmph!"
Sama Jung had no choice but to back down.
At that moment, blood trickled from his chest.
His wound had reopened in the heat of emotion.
One of Yang So's aides asked,
"Did you take Yun Hoe's head?"
Grind.
Sama Jung ground his teeth instead of answering. Then he spoke.
"......A monster was nearby. Couldn't even get close."
"......!"
Yang So's guards murmured in shock.
Sama Jung was skilled enough to lead the assassin organization in Go Tae-bo's stead. For him to retreat without even approaching...
"Never seen anything like it in my life."
Shudder.
Sama Jung trembled as he recalled the man who had blocked his path toward Yun Hoe.
Until the man had shouldered his spear and fixed him with a glare, Sama Jung had dismissed him as laughable. Most warriors who favored spears as their main weapon were third-rate, and he'd assumed this one was no different.
But the man was different.
Using stealth techniques, he had ghosted through Sama Jung's subordinates as they approached Yun Hoe, picking them off one by one. When a few subordinates rushed him first, his spear unleashed terrifying power, denying any approach.
Sama Jung had watched clearly as they fell without even entering striking range, heads flying. Then the retreat horn sounded, forcing him to flee the field.
And so began the deadly pursuit.
In the process, Sama Jung took wounds everywhere, and most of his men met gruesome ends. Only three had made it this far with him, and two of those were barely combat-capable. It was annihilation, no exaggeration.
Yang So stood.
"The stronghold isn't far. Let's move quickly."
As everyone finished resting and rose—
Thud!
"Argh!"
"Gah!"
Several of Yang So's guards suddenly screamed and collapsed.
Figures burst through the forest behind them.
A groan escaped Sama Jung's lips at the same moment.
"Urk!"
The man emerging from the trees had his disheveled black hair cascading like blades. Dragging his spear along the ground, he was none other than Baek Mu Yeong.
The very one who had made Sama Jung tremble.
* * *
Baek Mu Yeong fixed his gaze not on Sama Jung, but on Yang So.
Didn't expect to catch a big fish.
He had been pursuing Sama Jung from the Northern Legion camp all the way here. Spotting traces, he'd tracked them stealthily, then hidden in the forest upon hearing the heated conversation, observing until now.
The Northwest strategist...
Yang So stood before him—one of the twin pillars of Northwest Murim alongside Wi Yeon Gwang.
Swish.
Yang So's guards rushed forward, surrounding him protectively.
Then the rear forest rustled.
Bu Cha and the Demon Corps emerged.
Bu Cha grinned his signature savage smile at Baek Mu Yeong.
"Give the order already, sir. Heh heh heh."
They weren't alone. Dongbang Ri and Jo Yeong had already flanked behind Baek Mu Yeong, while Noegeom and his Special Mission Unit blocked escape routes from unseen positions.
Baek Mu Yeong ignored Sama Jung entirely, staring impassively at Yang So.
"You're the Northwest strategist?"
"......!"
Yang So couldn't answer.
Even if the enemy knew his identity, he couldn't admit it. Strategists were always top-priority targets, no matter the faction.
Despair, that monstrous beast, began crushing his mind.
He already sensed it instinctively. They might match in numbers, but this was beyond them.
Can't give up. The moment I do, it's over. Somehow, I have to escape alive.
Yang So steeled his resolve.
It was then.
[When the subordinates attack, use the opening to slip away from here.]
A transmission from his aide pierced his ear.
Yang So's heart shattered, but he couldn't show it with the enemy before him. Staring down Baek Mu Yeong, he sent a transmission he never thought he'd utter.
[......I'm sorry.]
It was then.
Whoosh!
Yang So's guards charged Baek Mu Yeong in unison.
Almost simultaneously, Bu Cha and the Demon Corps moved, and Baek Mu Yeong's spear flashed like lightning, slicing the air.
Boom! Boom!
Thud! Thud!
"Argh!"
"Gaaah!"
Leaving his men's agonized death cries behind, Yang So launched himself away. Only five followed him.
How heartbreaking to abandon comrades to the jaws of death—but their duty was to protect Yang So.
Without looking back, they guarded his flanks and leaped into the air.
But soon they faced an opponent as formidable as Baek Mu Yeong.
"So desperate to live?"
A clear voice rang out as a figure blocked their path ahead.
It was Songyeong.
Yang So's eyes bulged as he veered direction; his guards rushed Songyeong.
Songyeong's twin fists spawned dozens of afterimages, spewing fire.
Roar!
Boom!
"Argh!"
"Urk!"
Two guards flew back engulfed in flames, tumbling far away.
Meanwhile, Yang So plunged into the forest.
Bloodlight flared in Songyeong's eyes.
"Dream on."
Thud!
Songyeong moved. But the three remaining guards blocked him.
Hummm!
His fists belched fire again.
Though they'd witnessed their comrades' gruesome deaths, the three charged head-on in a mutual destruction gambit, ignoring the flames.
Boom!
"Grah!"
"Nngh!"
Two flew off wreathed in fire. The last tried to hold Songyeong to the end, but his head burst like a melon under the fists, and he collapsed.
Splat!
Blood sprayed from Songyeong's chest. He'd taken a hit from the death-defying strike.
But the wound was shallow, and his energy flow unaffected.
Songyeong shot toward where Yang So had vanished.
It was then.
Noegeom burst through the trees.
Songyeong, mid-air, flipped and landed.
Crunch.
Songyeong stared coldly at Yang So, who was being dragged forth in despair by Noegeom, and chuckled.
"Your men who threw away their lives to save you would love seeing this in the afterlife. Heh heh heh."
Thump!
Yang So sprawled on the ground.
Noegeom pressed his sword to Yang So's throat and said icily,
"Lift your head, Yang So."
Yang So raised his head weakly—then his eyes nearly split wide.
"Y-You...!"
"That's right. Noegeom—the one you discarded like trash, nearly costing you your little brother too."
The sword tip dug into Yang So's throat, blood dripping steadily.
"Whoa, whoa, hold it there. We need him alive."
But Noegeom showed no such intent. His blade slashed down through the air.
Slash!
"Gaaah!"
Yang So screamed, clutching his left arm as he staggered.
Noegeom's sword had cleanly severed it.
"Hey! What the hell are you doing?!"
Songyeong hurriedly blocked Noegeom's path.
Noegeom finally smirked coldly.
"We don't need his mouth intact anyway, right? One arm won't matter."
"......"
Songyeong was dumbfounded by Noegeom's brazen attitude.
But he didn't hate it. If anything, it reminded him of Yeon-hoo—fascinating, even.
"You're starting to look like the lord."
"I've always been like this."
"Yeah, yeah, big strong arms."
Songyeong glanced back.
The slaughter was nearing its end.
Gazing at Baek Mu Yeong, who had just impaled Sama Jung's head and yanked it free by the roots, he clicked his tongue.
"How'd a guy like that play nice as an instructor all this time?"