The Frontline of Iron and Frost

The pilot's voice cut through the helicopter's roar. "How's the recovery going?" Pigeon 1 asked, checking his weapons as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠he glanced at Dowol, who sat cross-legged on the floor. No answer came. Of course it didn't—she was deep in energy circulation. Honestly, Pigeon 1 had bet against her reaching peak condition. In simple terms, energy circulation was just recharging your batteries, and the calm it required made all the difference between properly plugging in a charger or not. On top of that, trying to meditate mid-flight was about as effective as praying a spray bottle would keep your battery from dying.

Normally, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they would have waited until their core asset had fully recovered before moving out to minimize variables. But Dowol had refused. She's unusually restless. She seems even more desperate than we are. Pigeon 1 reflected on her impatience. It wasn't patriotism. Nor was it some deep grudge against their current target. And it certainly wasn't about money or resources. Family. She had family that looked fine for now, but couldn't be guaranteed to stay that way. And there were only two ways to save them: an inner core or ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠spiritual herb potent enough to completely rewrite a human being.

But inner cores were pure energy sources themselves, and in a time when trade had been cut off, energy was the most precious resource of all. Even the supposedly efficient nuclear power plants had to boil water and spin turbines, while an inner core could simply be extracted. As for spiritual herbs... their very existence was uncertain, making them even more unrealistic. That's what makes her urgency strange. She's already paid more than enough with the Sunflower Core.

No matter how rare or miraculous it was, unless it granted immortality or eternal youth, it would still be far cheaper than the inner core of the Mountain Lord that Dowol had delivered to the nation. That alone should have been enough to say she'd fulfilled her duty to national defense. She could have focused on caring for her family until a cure emerged, waiting in comfort. But Ha Dowol hadn't done that. From the very beginning, when she'd taken down a major threat on Jeju Island with only three people, she had been a slaughterer and hunter to the youkai. No, that was still true now—and the list had grown to include terrorists.

Pigeon 1 noticed the sudden phenomenon and looked at Dowol. And then—

"Meow."

With the cry of the cat spirit sitting on her crossed legs, Dowol opened her eyes. Their gazes met. In that instant, Pigeon 1 felt a dizzying sensation as if his heart had been seized by frost.

"...My apologies."

Dowol realized she had unconsciously caused him mental harm and offered a quiet apology, gathering her energy one last time. Perfect. Seeing her body reach peak condition, Dowol stroked the cat. You helped me.

The energy circulation had been easier than ever before. It felt as if she had become two people, making her usual tasks feel effortless. And indeed, the cat spirit had quietly drawn in the cold yin energy like a magnet.

"Purr."

The cat seemed to enjoy Dowol's cold touch, rubbing its face against her hand.

"So, we're taking the long-term approach?"

"Meow."

Dowol carefully placed the cat on her left shoulder.

"Then your name will be Hyeonro. How does that sound?"

"Meow!"

The cat spirit, now named Hyeonro, cried out happily.

"We've arrived at the destination."

The pilot's voice trembled from the cold. Outside, the sky and mountains unfolded in their usual beauty. Though it was winter, some deciduous trees—due to unknown reasons—had unfurled their leaves alongside the conifers, creating quite a scenic view. Woven through it all were artificial barbed wire fences and structures. This was Cheorwon GP.

But calling it a guard post was an understatement; its scale had already expanded to that of a small town. The helicopter settled onto the landing pad, the door opened, and Pigeon 1 and Dowol stepped out. The propeller's fierce wind whipped around them, sending the fresh flowers planted around the helipad into a frantic dance. They were all catalysts for magic—cultivated for military purposes. Nearby fields were also being used to grow medicinal herbs for experimentation.

Beyond that stood countless containers and an enormous number of self-propelled artillery pieces arranged in organized ranks. The containers served as temporary housing for Awakened and soldiers. Surprisingly well-equipped with infrastructure, they were actually livable.

"I'm Director Kim Mok-moon, field commander and head of this GP."

A GP head holding the rank of director. There was a clear mismatch between rank and position, but this was the true frontline, so it made sense with a moment's thought. Unlike the cowards tucked away in the rear, rumors circulated among officers that his actual authority surpassed even that of a major general.

"I'm Ha Dowol. As per the official directive, I'll be imposing on you briefly to track down the talisman terrorist. The rest of my team will arrive shortly."

"..."

Director Kim Mok-moon and Ha Dowol shook hands in greeting. Behind them, Pigeon 1 remained silent. Formally speaking, Pigeon 1 didn't exist. And Ha Dowol was, on paper, not a soldier but affiliated with the Blue House.

"It's humble, but please come to the operations room. We're standing by for the briefing... but since the others haven't arrived yet, would you like some time to catch your breath?"

Indeed, there was no point going in now without the rest of the team; time remained before the briefing.

"Have the others besides Gangcheol moved north and then returned?"

"A small number. If this state holds, we'll only see real combat once a week."

"...Until a month ago, ten engagements a week was nothing special, wasn't it?"

"Hahaha, but everyone knows. This is just a fleeting peace."

While the front lines had relatively stabilized, the massive variable known as Gangcheol was a being that moved regardless of whether approaching youkai were present. Many other youkai were moving, fighting, and hiding in real time as well. Recalling that situation, Dowol felt a chill run down her spine at how vividly the memories remained.

Blood. Everywhere, nothing but blood. Before she could even shake the scraps of flesh from her blade, she had to slice youkai down to the bone or kill them with talismans. All the while, she and her comrades had staked their lives to take down the local rulers and their forces.

Hm?

It was then that Dowol noticed Director Kim Mok-moon's slightly restless gestures, the way he licked his lips, and the faint tremor in his hands.

"...I'm certain I heard that a month ago you were only going to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠smoke until you earned one more star?"

"Hahaha, this is proof that I'm trying to quit."

The formal speech had slipped from Kim Mok-moon's tone. After all, they had a month-long connection, and a short month's separation wasn't enough to make people forget. During that month, Dowol's feats had been dazzling, and Kim Mok-moon had been a commander who kept his wits about him, so a natural bond had formed. Besides, being human, he wanted to loosen up even for a moment.

"You've earned that extra star."

"You've been promoted too. Working under a blue roof is much better than rotting away here."

"The work is the same no matter where they drag me. Do you know how nerve-wracking it is to operate alone without any backup or support?"

"But you still pulled it off. Normally, even sending in a platoon to handle something like that would mean taking losses. Yet here you are, still alive."

Because so many others hadn't managed that, Dowol knew her complaints were hypocritical. Still, she wanted to vent to someone.

"June. No matter what, we have to kill that damn snake bastard or drive him north by June at the latest. If we don't, this country will collapse."

"..."

Both Dowol and Pigeon 1 understood exactly what that meant. With uneasy eyes, they gazed at the forest of containers.

-Thud-thud-thud-thud!

After their brief chat, the rest of the team—who had been delayed by final checks—finally arrived in the next helicopter. Their presence began to reach Dowol's ears and eyes.

-Bang!

"Ouch... Huh? What's this?"

Yu Seong, now changed into training robes, had fallen while receiving proper instruction. His gaze drifted toward the display of medals, trophies, and photographs, where he spotted a familiar face.

"Hm? Ah, that's Dowol's gold medal. Proof that the kid was the best on Earth! Hahaha!"

Countless plaques, trophies, and medals. They proved just how brilliantly Ha Dowol had walked the path of the sword.

"Oh, her hair was short back then?"

"Hm? Well, of course it was."

Yu Seong was looking at a photo of Dowol from her male days, with short hair. What should I say... back then, it was less 'pretty' and more 'handsome.' She's changed quite a bit since becoming an Awakened. Anyway, she's much prettier now.

Well, since he's Dowol's disciple, he probably knows the basics.

The problem was that in the photo, Dowol was wearing protective gear, making her body curves ambiguous except for her face. The resemblance between her past and present appearance was close enough that one might nod and say they looked like relatives. Moreover, Choi Gakseong naturally assumed that Yu Seong knew at least the basic personal information about Dowol. Thus, this small misunderstanding occurred. The truth would be revealed someday, but for now, they had simply drifted a little further from it.