Chapter 5: Back to the Front Lines-2
Chapter 5: Back to the Front Lines-2
I watched blankly as the ronin skillfully built a fire and boiled porridge, then abruptly rose to my feet and approached them.
"Would it be possible for me to have some as well?"
Warrior Jang readily granted permission.
"Of course. But didn't your beautiful younger sister pack you a meal earlier? I thought you would be eating that."
I smiled bitterly at his question and answered.
"My younger sister's cooking skills, unlike her appearance, are still lacking. It wasn't something fit for human consumption."
At my words, the ronin burst into raucous laughter.
"Huh? Puhahahaha! Well, that figures! It would be unfair if such a beautiful daughter of a prestigious family was also good at cooking!"
"Wahahaha! The young master who marries your sister is going to have a hard time! How awkward must it be every time she offers to prepare a meal?! Keuhahaha!"
"Gong-ga, like you, you bastard?"
"What, you punk?! Yeah, it's true, that's my story. That's why I always leave early and come back late, even when there's no work. I only want to see her at night. Keuhahaha!"
Amid the boisterous laughter and chatter of the ronin, I suddenly turned my gaze toward the thicket where I had thrown away the rice ball.
There, squirrels and insects that had eaten the rice ball I'd tossed lay dead in heaps.
The survival rate of comrades serving on the frontlines was about thirty percent over three years.
In other words, if I was still alive after about three years had passed, it meant two people beside me would be dead.
'Well, that's based on the standard up until five years from now. After that, it dropped to below ten percent.'
Anyway, of the two who died like that, one would be killed by demon heads or demons of the Blood Cult, while the remaining one tended to be killed by comrades.
By comrades who had been soul-possessed by the enemy without anyone knowing when it happened.
So we absolutely had to watch our comrades closely.
Whether they showed any signs of being different from usual, whether they might suddenly ambush us from behind.
Yeon-ha, who had come looking for me yesterday, was vastly different from how I remembered her.
And the fact that she came out to greet me today was also different from my memories of my past life.
In my past life, Yeon-ha hadn't even come out to greet me. In this life, for some reason, she came out to greet me, even cooking something she normally never made. It was something well worth paying attention to.
More than anything, Yeon-ha's eyes.
The eyes of that child, who spoke as if worried about me, held emotions entirely different from her words.
Things like inexplicable hatred and contempt.
Those soul-possessed by the Blood Cult lose all emotion in their eyes.
So Yeon-ha's change likely wasn't because she had been soul-possessed.
I had to accept it now.
It wasn't that Yeon-ha had changed, but that the fool I was back then simply hadn't noticed.
That from the very beginning, that child had never truly cared for me.
Come to think of it, the people with a motive to kill Dan Ha-sang wouldn't be limited to just my male siblings, would they?
"Huuuu."
I let out a deep sigh.
My chest felt tight.
It felt as though I had lost the one child I'd considered my only true family for the past thirty years.
Just when I'd finally understood my father's sincerity and thought I'd gained one person, I ended up losing another.
It seemed I was destined to have only one family member at a time.
A bitter smile leaked out.
With a heavy heart, I rose to my feet and asked Warrior Jang.
"Might I borrow a dao?"
"Huh? A dao? I carry a spare, so use that one. But didn't you use a sword, young master?"
"Haha, truthfully, I'm not very good with a sword either. Thank you."
While the meal was being prepared, I began swinging the dao.
My body right now was in a state where neither sword nor dao felt familiar at all. It was obvious that if I tried to unleash an ultimate technique with this body, I'd look like nothing more than a grub worm.
Wasn't it said that true masters are masters because their fundamentals are strong, not because of ultimate techniques?
In reality, the masters I'd seen could easily slaughter novices with just basic cuts and thrusts.
So I had to lose weight and train my fundamentals at the same time.
And from experience, when my heart felt heavy, cutting was far more refreshing than thrusting.
The journey after that was also a continuous series of training.
I kept running at every move, and once running became somewhat familiar, I ran while swinging the dao and sword.
During rest or sleep hours, I cut down on sleep and cultivated my heart method.
Thinking about the frontlines drawing ever closer, I couldn't waste a single moment.
That place was literally a death trap. Considering that in my past life, I'd been so weak that I was often exempted from duty and thus skirted danger, in this life, the probability of dying even earlier existed.
So if I didn't want to die, I had to give it my absolute all.
Warrior Jang, who had been watching me like that for several days, suddenly broached the subject during a meal.
"In all my years, I've never seen someone train as doggedly as you, young master. At first, I thought you wouldn't last long, but now I find myself ashamed. Seeing you makes me think I should start living more diligently too."
The other ronin were also nodding with eyes now full of goodwill.
I just gave an awkward laugh and replied.
"It's just a desperate struggle because I don't want to die. If I'd always lived like this, why would I be fat?"
But Warrior Jang shook his head and answered.
"Though I've reached this age and only attained the second-rate level, I have a decent eye for things thanks to all the blade-work I've done. Watching you swing a sword and dao, you seem less like a novice warrior and more like a retired old master."
At those words, another ronin asked curiously.
"What do you mean by that, hyung?"
"It means the dao the young master swings, though slow, was already being swung by someone who knew the path. It's not just swinging blindly and picking things up one by one like a beginner, but re-treading a path already known — naturally, the progress is fast."
"Ahhh."
"Indeed, watching Seonu Gongja swing a dao, he did look strangely seasoned."
Warrior Jang looked at me again and said.
"I don't know what circumstances you've had, but it seems your life hasn't been easy either, young master. I had thought the life of a prestigious family's young master would be somewhat different from ours."
At his words, which somehow touched a nerve, I smiled bitterly and simply bowed my head once.
Just as he'd said, I was changing rapidly.
Though a distance that would have taken two days on horseback took a week to cover, in that short time, I'd lost a noticeable amount of weight, and my handling of sword, dao, and fist techniques, while not yet satisfactory, had become considerably more proficient.
It was around that time.
On about the seventh day after departure, as I was running and panting, an arrow suddenly flew at me.
Piiing!
"Whoa!"
Keeping one's senses open to the surroundings no matter what one is doing was the most basic of basics for a Flying Dragon Corps member. No matter how exhausted I was, I wasn't so out of it that I'd be hit by an arrow flying in a curved arc.
I could have deflected it with my sword, but just in case, I rolled my body to evade it.
Pook!
'Hmm, what graceful rolling this was.'
I felt a renewed sense of pride in my body, which had become much more agile.
Just then, laughter rang out.
"Puhahahaha! What is that?! Doesn't it look just like a bear rolling around?!"
"You said it, boss! Even a bear doesn't have that kind of rolling talent!"
At the sudden attack and voices, Warrior Jang and the other ronin drew their swords and shouted.
"Who goes there?! What kind of scoundrel attacks like this, ignoring the code of the jianghu?!"
Immediately, people armed with weapons began springing out from the surrounding forest.
"Uhahaha! You soon-to-be-dead bastards are spouting crap about the jianghu code! Throw down your weapons quietly and surrender!"
There were around thirty of them in total.
In particular, the largest and most vicious-looking man among them was draped in leopard skins and holding a large axe. At a single glance, he clearly wasn't some nameless grunt.
Warrior Jang muttered as if groaning.
“Mak Gusam, the chief of Nokhochae Stronghold? What's Nokhochae doing here?"
Nokhochae, was it?
I had heard of them too.
It was a mountain stronghold located near Mount Nokho in Heungin, some distance from here. Its chief's monstrous strength and violent temperament were quite famous in Guizhou.
Among the bandits who were generally nothing more than third-rate rabble, he was a rare martial artist who had properly learned martial arts, at the tail end of the second-rate level.
Warrior Jang cupped his fist and shouted.
"I have long heard of the esteemed name of the Nokhochae chief! It is an honor to meet you like this!"
He was probably trying to start a dialogue.
Compared to their thirty-plus numbers, we were only six, outnumbered, and our individual martial prowess couldn't be said to be superior to theirs either, so it was the natural course of action.
But these were the ones who had shot an arrow with the intention of hitting me. There was no way they had any intention of talking.
"Keuhahaha! Meeting this old man is an honor? Dying will be an even greater honor!"
"Keuhahahaha! You said it, boss!"
"Looks like we need to kill them quickly, boss!"
At their violently laughing and jeering response, Warrior Jang gritted his teeth and shouted again.
"If you wish, I am willing to pay a toll! Why seek blood with difficulty when we can resolve this through talking?!"
Then he spoke to me in a low voice.
"Young master, if a fight breaks out, ride that horse and flee. We won't be able to hold them off for long."
At those words, I was genuinely moved.
Typically, ronin were mostly scoundrels who only cared about their own gain and wouldn't hesitate to stab you in the back. What kind of luck was it that I'd met people like these?
I guessed my father must have deliberately chosen trustworthy people for me.
At Warrior Jang's proposal, Mak Gusam sneered and shouted.
"Toll, you say?! A toll is fine! The toll is all of your property! Your clothes, horses, swords, everything you have! If you strip stark naked here and run away, I won't chase you!"
"Keuhahahaha! Better strip fast!"
"Boss, if their back view is tempting, can I pounce on them?! Keuhahaha!"
Realizing there was no room for dialogue, Warrior Jang urgently whispered to me.
"Young master! Get on the horse, quickly! There's no time!"
But I did not follow his words.
Instead, I stepped forward and shouted.
"You wretch! How dare you ambush me, the third son of the Seonwoo Clan?! You must truly be courting total annihilation!"
At that, they stopped laughing abruptly and stared at me.
Their expressions said, 'What kind of bullshit is this?'
Mak Gusam frowned and asked me.
"Hey, bear cub! You say you're the third son of the Seonwoo Clan?!"
"That's right! Mak Gusam, chief of Nokhochae Stronghold! Do you dare attack me and dig your own grave?!"
I had heard it in passing in my past life.
Stories about bandits who picked out only the ones who seemed easy targets among the martial family scions heading to the frontlines and ambushed them.
I had already arrived at the frontlines when they started their activities. They had ambushed and killed quite a few scions of martial families before eventually being tracked down and wiped out.
They had targeted the fact that scions of small and medium martial families heading to the frontlines often moved in small numbers trusting their own martial prowess, and carried plenty of money since they expected to be away from home for a long time.
'So they have no intention of leaving any witnesses.'
Because even against small and medium martial families, they wouldn't want to incur a grudge.
In any case, they didn't ambush just anyone.
They had only ambushed easy targets who seemed least likely to cause trouble.
Which, of course, meant that right now, I looked like one such target.
Just look at them.
Weren't they flustered upon hearing that I was the third son of the Seonwoo Clan?
I bellowed at them once more.
"Why can't you speak?! Am I not asking whether you truly ambushed me, the third son of the Seonwoo Clan?!"
At that, the man, now with a face that looked like he was chewing shit, shouted back at me.
"How am I supposed to believe that a bear cub like you is the third son of the Seonwoo Clan?! Prove it if it's not a lie!"
I sneered and retorted at his words.
"Why should I, who am clearly a member of the Seonwoo Clan, have to prove that?! And how exactly am I supposed to prove it?! Do you expect me to bring the family head, my father, here?!"
Then the man screamed in a furious voice.
"Prove it right now! Because if you can't, whether you're the third son of the Seonwoo Clan or the eldest son, you'll die right here!"
At his words, I put on a slightly daunted expression, then hesitantly rummaged through my chest pocket and pulled out an identity plaque to show them.
"Will this identity plaque, the symbol of the clan, be sufficient?!"
But there was no way a man standing five or six jang away could make out the identity plaque clearly.
He pointed at my identity plaque and shouted.
"Throw that to me! I'll verify it!"
But at his words, I shouted back as if it were absurd.
"Hand over the symbol of my family! What nonsense is that?! If you can't see it, can't you come here and look at it yourself?!"
At that, he also grimaced fiercely and shouted.
"Are you messing around?! You come over here and show it!"
At his furious roar, as if he might explode at any moment, I flinched and asked in a slightly trembling voice.
"You're not planning to attack me suddenly if I go over there, are you?!"
Then he burst out in anger and yelled.
"If you don't come right now, I'll attack you right now!"
After hesitating and staggering, I finally approached him with a reluctant expression, as if I had no other choice.
But when I got to about two jang in front of him, I spoke again with an expression that said I couldn't do it after all.
"I-I'll just throw it to you from here! In return, you absolutely must look at it and give it back!"
He had been watching me approach timidly with a disdainful look, and now he answered in a voice full of irritation.
"Just hurry up and throw it!"
"O-Okay."
I threw the identity plaque upward with all my might.
Perhaps I'd put a little too much force into it, because the plaque soared high into the sky and then fell right behind his head. He tilted his head back to try and catch it.
"Whoops!"
Tteok!
And as he caught it, he suddenly read the characters written on the identity plaque.
"Huh? Guiyang... Branch?"
He might not have known, but it was an identity plaque issued only to regular customers of the famous Guiyang Banjeom in Guiyang.
That was the moment.
Puuuk!
"Keuheok!"
My sword, having closed the distance of two jang in a single breath, pierced through his heart.
It was the One Strike, the ultimate technique of the Sail Sword Technique which the disciples of the Jeomchang Sect proudly claimed to be the fastest thrust in the world.