A Shadow in the Snow

Pitch-black darkness cloaked the Northern Gate of the Northern Heavenly Alliance.

Unlike the main entrance, which bustled with the comings and goings of martial artists by day, this postern gate was reserved for midnight supply transports and the passage of covert couriers. Through the heavy dawn mist clinging to the stone, shadowy figures gathered one by one, moving with eerie, spectral silence.

Squads One, Three, and Four of the Iron Soul Unit—thirty elite warriors in total. Yet their breathing was so thoroughly restrained that not a single sound betrayed their presence. Instead of their standard alliance uniforms, they wore light, close-fitting night garments dyed a deep blackish-blue, blending effortlessly into the surrounding gloom. Even their scabbards and spearheads were bound tight in coarse black cloth, lest stray moonlight catch the bare steel. They had assembled here on the sudden summons of Yeom Baek.

Standing among their ranks, Dokgo Jin watched the gathering with quiet interest.

Three squads mobilized simultaneously.

This was no ordinary assignment. Except during outright war, the Iron Soul Unit operated in single-squad deployments. For three squads to be called out at once was extraordinary. He had quietly questioned Squad Leader Gwak Hyo earlier, but the battle-hardened veteran had known nothing either.

What's more, the Commander is taking the field in person.

Unless the entire combat unit was mobilized, it was almost unheard of for the Squad Leader to direct operations on the ground.

Dokgo Jin turned his eyes toward the front of the column, where a man stood as motionless as a great boulder. Yeom Baek swept his gaze over the assembled warriors, his eyes cold and steady.

"Is everyone here?"

Beside him, Vice Commander Yoo Seol-ah dipped her chin. "Squads One, Three, and Four. All accounted for, Commander."

"Good."

Yeom Baek inspected each man in turn until his gaze settled on Dokgo Jin at the very rear. The young man stood melted into the dark, wearing his usual detached, impenetrable expression.

Yeom Baek sent a sound transmission directly into Jin's ear.

[An unexpected first mission for you. Feeling tense?]

[Not particularly.]

[I suppose not. I can hardly imagine you looking rattled in the first place.]

Dokgo Jin offered no reply.

[This mission... your role may prove far greater than you think.]

Leaving those words to hang, Yeom Baek turned back to face the road. His voice, low yet carrying deep authority, sliced cleanly through the chilled morning air.

"Our objective is of the utmost urgency. Every second counts. We move out immediately, and I will brief you on the details during our first halt."

Yoo Seol-ah, still entirely in the dark, pressed him. "At least give us a destination, Commander."

"The exact destination hasn't been pinned down yet. We will confirm it as we move."

Yoo Seol-ah's brow arched in genuine surprise. Matters are that dire?

Yeom Baek turned to the assembled men. "Move out! Anyone who falls behind will be abandoned, so keep your wits sharp and match my pace!"

"Understood!"

Yeom Baek kicked off the earth, and thirty-one dark silhouettes vanished into the fog behind him. It was a swift, silent departure that left the predawn stillness entirely undisturbed.

Yeom Baek set a terrifying pace at the head of the column. Gliding across the terrain as if contracting the earth itself, he tore through the darkness, while Dokgo Jin matched his stride effortlessly from behind, quietly taking measure of their formation.

I see why Squads Three and Four were chosen.

Excluding Squad One, the general combat prowess of the other squads was largely comparable, though ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the lower-numbered units held a slight edge. Yet Squad Two had been bypassed entirely in favor of Three and Four. There had to be a clear tactical purpose.

Lightness skills.

Whenever the Iron Soul Unit embarked on broader campaigns, Squads Three and Four served as advance scouts, specializing in rapid movement and reconnaissance.

Where are we heading?

Dokgo Jin measured their trajectory against the fleeting landscape. West... perhaps angling slightly south.

A mental map of the Central Plains unfolded in his mind. In this direction, their destination could be the western frontier of Shaanxi Province, or farther out into Gansu or Sichuan.

Once we cross the Shaanxi border, we leave the Northern Heavenly Alliance's sphere of influence. Don't tell me... we are intruding into the domain of the Western Hegemon?

The Western Hegemon—the Kunlun Demon Palace.

Unlike the other three great hegemons, they were a power thoroughly rooted in the demonic path. Formed from the scattered remnants of the Heavenly Demon Cult that had collapsed in the Jeong-Ma War, they had gathered disparate demonic sects under their banner to rise from the ashes. Having seized the lands surrounding Mount Kunlun, their overwhelming dominance had forced even the Kunlun Sect—one of the pillars of the Nine Sects and One Gang—to seal its gates and barely maintain its lineage.

A collision with the Demon Palace?

While the Four Hegemons of the Central Plains maintained a fragile peace on the surface, localized skirmishes along their borders were as routine as daily meals. Even so, doubts lingered.

If this were merely a standard border skirmish, there would be no need for the Squad Leader to mobilize so covertly.

Just then, Dokgo Jin caught sight of Yeom Baek and Yoo Seol-ah exchanging glances ahead. The subtle, rhythmic twitching of their lips revealed they were conversing through sound transmissions.

Dokgo Jin cast a brief glance toward the heavens. Dawn was still far away, and the night was thick as pitch.

Good.

The corners of his lips curved faintly as he drew upon the abyssal energy resting deep within his dantian.

It was an art whose potency doubled under the cover of pure shadow. A gossamer mist of Ink Flame Qi, utterly invisible to the naked eye, drifted silently into the surrounding air. Perfectly synchronized with the darkness, the qi wound naturally around Yeom Baek and Yoo Seol-ah, intercepting the invisible vibrations of their sound transmissions mid-flight.

Instantly, their hushed dialogue resonated clearly in Dokgo Jin's ears.

[...Who would dare target Grand Elder Yong's granddaughter?] It was Yoo Seol-ah's voice, rife with bewilderment and smoldering anger.

Grand Elder Yong's granddaughter? Dokgo Jin's eyes flashed with subtle insight.

Yeom Baek's heavy voice answered her: [Nothing is definitive yet. However, intelligence from the Heavenly Mechanism Hall indicates agents of the Kunlun Demon Palace are involved.]

[The Demon Palace...!]

[And there is a high likelihood that a Regiment Commander-level expert is leading them.]

A Regiment Commander of the Kunlun Demon Palace commanded martial prowess equivalent to a Squad Leader within the Northern Heavenly Alliance.

[Then an entire combat regiment from the Demon Palace might have mobilized!]

[In all likelihood, yes.]

[And we're setting out with only three squads? Shouldn't our entire unit have deployed?]

[We have no choice. Secrecy must be maintained at all costs.]

Yoo Seol-ah sounded baffled. [They are the ones picking a fight! Why must we tiptoe around it?]

[Granddaughter of the Grand Elder or not, she is technically an outsider to the alliance. Mobilizing an official combat force on personal business would hand Grand Elder Yong's political rivals an easy weapon to use against him.]

[Ah...]

Understanding dawned on Dokgo Jin as well.

So that is how the board is set.

Grand Elder Yong—the Flame Dragon God-Lord, Yong Mu-seong—was considered the foremost candidate to become the next Master of the Elder Hall. Given the immense authority wielded by that post, ambitious rivals naturally watched his every move. Deploying alliance forces to rescue his own granddaughter could easily be seized upon as an abuse of public power for personal gain. Thus, he had discreetly entrusted the task to Yeom Baek, a man celebrated for his strict neutrality and unwavering loyalty. Even if the operation came to light later, moving a small detachment would minimize the political fallout.

Of course, for those walking into the fire, the burden was entirely different.

Yoo Seol-ah frowned deeply. [This sounds like a suicidal mission.]

[Perhaps. But you have me, don't you?]

[And what if their expert is someone beyond your ability to handle, Commander?]

[Then we overcome it somehow. Besides...] Yeom Baek cast a subtle backward glance toward Dokgo Jin before continuing. [...we have the Dragon Tiger Plaque Master with us.]

Yoo Seol-ah opened her mouth to argue, then swallowed her words. You certainly put an awful lot of faith in him. From what I know...

[In any event, our best outcome is rescuing the Grand Elder's granddaughter before they intercept her, then withdrawing back to alliance territory. That is why we must push so hard.]

[Where is she right now?]

[Southern Gansu is all I was told. She has been constantly on the run to throw off their pursuit, making her position impossible to pin down. The Heavenly Mechanism Hall will transmit updates the moment they confirm her location.]

[Understood. Then let us hurry, Commander. If we pace ourselves only to arrive after she has fallen into enemy hands, all of this will be for nothing.]

[You're right about that.]

Yeom Baek turned his head slightly and bellowed to the ranks behind him.

"Our objective is Gansu Province! Time is against us—pick up the pace!"

"Understood!"

Yeom Baek and Yoo Seol-ah surged forward with explosive speed, and the warriors strained every muscle to keep up. Without halting even once for food or rest, they sprinted nonstop for two full days.

A howling blizzard blanketed the barren expanse of snow.

"Haa... haa..."

A lone woman fought her way through knee-deep drifts, carrying a young girl securely on her back. Her name was Han Seo-ryeong. She was the head guard to Grand Elder Yong's granddaughter, Yong Chae-rin, and had served as her protective caretaker since the girl was an infant.

Resting against her battered back was Yong Chae-rin herself. At fourteen or fifteen years of age, traces of youthful softness still lingered upon her delicate face. Her skin was paler and more translucent than the surrounding snow, and her features possessed an ethereal, sculpted grace. The only tragic flaw lay in her wide, beautiful eyes. Her dark pupils were clouded and unfocused, shrouded behind an impenetrable fog. She had been blind from birth.

Where her cheek pressed against Han Seo-ryeong's back, Yong Chae-rin felt a sticky, viscous warmth soaking through the fabric. It was not sweat. It was thick, warm blood, accompanied by the sharp, metallic tang of iron.

Everyone... is dead.

Before her unseeing eyes lay only perpetual darkness. Yet her hyper-acute hearing had recorded every terrifying sound. The sickening thuds of ten escort warriors collapsing without even the breath to scream. The horrific spray of hot blood erupting across the virgin snow.

It's all... because of me.

They had been traveling from their ancestral estate in Lanzhou toward the Northern Heavenly Alliance, having answered the summons of her grandfather, Grand Elder Yong. Yet, whether through cruel misfortune or a premeditated trap, an encounter on the road had sparked a minor quarrel that swiftly turned to drawn blades. At first, they had thought little of it; the assailants lacked skill, and the guards easily cut them down. But that had merely been bait.

The figures who emerged from the shadows moments later were butchers on a completely different plane. The escort warriors were slaughtered before they could even trade a proper blow. There was no choice but to run. What had begun as an eager, long-awaited journey had plummeted into a waking nightmare in the blink of an eye.

They all died trying to shield me...

Guilt wrapped around her heart like heavy lead shackles, dragging at every breath.

"Miss... hold on just a little longer... please, just a little more," Han Seo-ryeong whispered, her voice choking on blood and ragged exhaustion. Her legs were pushed far beyond the limits of mortal endurance. A deep gash across her left thigh bled profusely with every step, and the inner qi within her sea of energy had run completely dry hours ago. Her face was ashen, yet her eyes burned with an unyielding, fierce flame.

A singular, desperate resolve: protect Yong Chae-rin at all costs.

Driven by sheer maternal devotion, she staggered through the blinding blizzard, staying upright by raw willpower alone.

Sister Seo-ryeong...

Yong Chae-rin could not bring herself to utter the words begging Han Seo-ryeong to abandon her and run. She gripped the bloodstained cloth of the woman's collar tightly and bit her trembling lip.

I must keep her alive.

Even if Han Seo-ryeong left her behind, there was no guarantee the guard would survive on her own in this frozen wasteland. Better that they stay together. Because...

A sharp, needle-like pain pricked between Yong Chae-rin's brows. An unsettling ache, like cold steel drilling into her forehead.

To Yong Chae-rin, the world revealed itself not through visual shapes, but through the shifting currents of energy and spiritual colors. And right now, coiled in the darkness directly ahead, she sensed a thick, crimson mist waiting in ambush.

"Stop!" she cried out urgently.

"M-Miss?"

"Ahead... we cannot go forward."

Han Seo-ryeong froze in her tracks. The sole reason they had evaded capture this long despite mortal injuries was Yong Chae-rin's extraordinary sixth sense. Her intuition had never once proven wrong.

"...To the right. We must take the right path."

To the right lay a steep, narrow ledge along the cliffside. It appeared infinitely more treacherous, yet Han Seo-ryeong did not hesitate.

"Understood!"

She veered toward the precipice without a second thought. "Hold on tight!"

Han Seo-ryeong threw herself onto the icy cliff path. Yong Chae-rin squeezed her sightless eyes shut. The wind whipping at their backs smelled foul and metallic. The stench of blood and impending slaughter was drawing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠nearer with every passing breath.

At this rate, they will catch us.

They navigated the knife-edge cliff until the path leveled out once more, Han Seo-ryeong's voice trembling with desperate strain.

"Miss, it's another fork. Which way do ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠we go?"

Yong Chae-rin bit down hard on her lip. She strained her senses to their absolute limit, but what met her mind was pure despair. To the left, to the right—both paths radiated a suffocating, fiery crimson glow of murderous intent.

Neither way is open. We are surrounded.

Just then, her head turned involuntarily toward a dense, tangled thicket of briars off to the right. From that impenetrable brush, she detected an entirely alien energy. It was a presence unlike anything she had ever felt—a vast, unfathomable abyss, pitch-black and immensely heavy. She could not tell whether it belonged to friend or foe. But at the very least, it was vastly different from that sickening, bloody crimson mist.

"Sister, go right. Into the thicket."

"What? But there is no path there—"

Yong Chae-rin shook her head firmly. "We have no other choice."

Han Seo-ryeong cast aside all doubt and threw herself into the jagged brush, using her own body to smash a way through. Sharp branches tore at their flesh and clothes, drawing fresh blood, but Yong Chae-rin swallowed every whimper of pain.

In the next instant, that immense, dark aura surged right before them.

Han Seo-ryeong dug her heels into the snow, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠screeching to a sudden halt as she ripped her sword from its scabbard.

"Who goes there!"

A solitary figure in dark robes stood barring their way. Yong Chae-rin knew intuitively—this man was the master of that boundless, tranquil darkness.

"Found you."

The dark figure, Dokgo Jin, smiled faintly in the swirling snow.