106. Evacuation (2)
Thirty minutes later, over a hundred buses loaded with evacuees began slowly pulling away from Ulsan Airport. Allied forces soldiers rode alongside as escorts on both flanks, but the truth was, the trip from Ulsan Airport to Gyeongju wasn't all that tough. The industrial road was already firmly in Balhut Cult hands, dotted with surveillance posts every so often, and finding a detour to ambush the convoy would've been next to impossible. Besides, hitting evacuees head-on meant the Immortal Cult was throwing away all their public opinion games up to now—no sane leader would play that card. What made it even less likely was the cost: skirting Ulsan Airport to strike would've demanded huge sacrifices from the Immortal Cult too.
"Really straightforward, huh? No way they're nuts enough to actually go after evacuees."
"Know yourself and your enemy, win a hundred battles, right? Let's keep our eyes peeled."
With the industrial road clear of threats, the buses cruised smoothly toward Gyeongju. To hold formation, they'd capped speed at 40 km/h, but for a convoy hauling over a thousand evacuees, that was hauling ass.
Escorts in place, solid pace—no smart attacker would poke the bear and risk getting mauled.
"You're here."
"Yes, ma'am. Merging with the escort detail now."
"Understood, Adjutant Son Sang-hee."
Best of all, they were bulking up the existing guard with fresh troops trickling in—nightmare fuel for anyone thinking ambush. Security posts lined the road for policing and watch; soldiers there spotted the buses approaching, stepped out, and slotted right in.
"Any suspicious blips on surveillance today?"
"Negative. No monster activity. No undead movement."
These guys had manned the post up until seconds ago, so they fed real-time intel on their sector—perfect for spotting trouble early and putting minds at ease.
Son Sang-hee grilled the soldier on local conditions; he confirmed zero monsters or undead.
"No monsters, no undead. Anything else stirring?"
"Nothing, ma'am. No survivors, no Awakeners. Stealth skills make total evasion possible, though—we can't rule it out."
She probed for Immortal Cult signs via other activity, but zilch. No survivors or Awakeners sighted, sure, but Awakener tricks were endless; evading Cult watch with some obscure skill wasn't off the table. Immortal Cult's undead mastery made the caution legit.
"Copy that. Cover the convoy's rear, then."
"Yes, ma'am!"
No heading back to Ulsan Airport on blind faith—Son Sang-hee tasked the newbies with rear guard and pressed on.
Watching them scoop up post guards at key junctions, beefing up strength without a hitch, Jin A-yeon flashed a lazy grin. "Total walkover. Cakewalk."
"Smoother than expected. Whew. Good."
Jin A-yeon whooped like victory was in the bag; Son Sang-hee, catching her hype and the all-clear report, let out a relieved breath. No sweat.
Reinforcements kept rolling in, intel freshening up. Variables crushed, all that remained was guiding the convoy safe into Cult turf. Done.
"On to the next post..."
And just as they geared up for fresh intel and bodies at the next spot...
"Report! Unknown contacts, 100 meters dead ahead!"
"What!?"
"The hell!?"
Son Sang-hee and Jin A-yeon reeled at the sudden hostiles. Clear skies just moments ago—now this out-of-nowhere pack?
"Report! Unknown groups flanking left and right! Can't believe it! Right side had buildings for cover, detour feasible, but left's open farmland—no concealment! No way they slipped our watch!"
Reports piled on, insane: pinched left, right, front. Right flank? Roads, village, woods—plausible hide. But left? Flat fields. Impossible.
"Hoo. Guess the crazies pulled the trigger."
"Where'd they pop from?"
"Beats me. Doesn't matter—they're targets. Right?"
Left flank sprawled with vast farmland, zero cover. Yet here they were, somehow dodging post sightlines like ghosts. Sloppy guards? Wouldn't be a stretch.
"Scout! Monsters? Zombies?"
"Uh... closest to zombies, visually."
Bigger issue: not your garden-variety zombies Balhut Cult knew cold.
Vague answer had Son Sang-hee guessing. "Zombie-ish... like spider zombie variants?"
"P-plausible. First contact for us."
Raiders maybe new variant, spider-zombie style, unknown to Cult.
Scout nodded but shrugged—close, but no cigar on ID.
Jin A-yeon, binoculars glued to the action beside Son Sang-hee, cracked it. "Nah, not variants. Hey, pretty lady."
"You recognize them?"
"Yup. Intimately."
No doubt in her voice, smug as hell—weapon up, game face on. Knew these bus-crashers cold.
"Army. Theirs."
"Army?"
"Immortal Cult. Those bastards' finest."
Yeah—the Immortal Legion's pride and joy. Ulsan resistance's nightmare, Cult-commanded horde. Son Sang-hee gulped.
"An army... but."
"Just bones?"
"Yup. Pathetic rags are their main muscle. We dub 'em skeletons."
"That's skeletons, period."
What hit the eyes? Ragtag skull parade, nothing fancy. No rotting zombie flesh—pure bone troops. Shocker. Now Son Sang-hee got the scout's freakout; zombies? SOP. These? Manual who?
"Shoddy work, but armed."
"Right? Normal zombies got no brains for gear. These swing what they got."
"Tricky. One nick, tetanus express."
Weapons no normal zombie touched: not Cult rifles or master-forged greatswords, but bone blades and shields, rotting through. Plenty threatening—tetanus lottery.
"Average Awakener smashes 'em careful-like. Ugly but tougher than basic zombies."
"Tough on civvies, then."
"Spot on. That's why they racked bodies."
Silver lining: bog-standard zombies, gear aside. Jin A-yeon's tip—mind weapons, drop easy—had Son Sang-hee probing deeper. "Elites mixed in?"
"Duh. Sergeants bossing skulls, commanders calling shots. Named bosses."
Pray no, but yeah—leaders lurking. Zombie terms? Sergeants were variants. Three-way box, variants in skeleton swarm. Fun.
"Literal undead army. Real tough."
"Yup. Tough. Headshot or they pop back up, stubborn fucks."
Ugly brawl ahead. Ambushed, evacuees first—no first strike.
"Battle stations."
"Roger."
No whining, no panic—straight to prep. Son Sang-hee, Jin A-yeon: battle-scarred Awakeners. Their troops? Forged in fire, guts of steel.
"Escort detail, convoy protection priority! Phalanx formation, as drilled!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
Son Sang-hee snapped orders: phalanx up, riot shields locking to barricade buses from skeleton rush. Prep shields bloomed into instant mega-wall.
Eyes on the stacking barrier, Jin A-yeon vaulted it, hollered at command-post Son Sang-hee. "Mind if I cut loose? Sergeants and head honchos—mine in a flash."
"Solo?"
Shark grin, headhunter vow—Son Sang-hee double-checked. Thousand-plus boneheads; pinpointing brass? Needle haystack.
"Cake for me."
Like gazing at Seol-hwa.
No sweat vibe, spear twirl, stance locked—fierce smile, warrior mode. Son Sang-hee glimpsed old Baek Seol-hwa echoes. Solid grit shamed her old fragility.
"Count on it. I'll spot for you—comms hot."
"You know boss spots?"
"Affirmative."
Her turf too—she'd max out. Scout-type: strong foes lit up easy. Relay via radio? Breeze.
"Requesting Cult backup too. Hotter than expected."
Contingency locked.
"This enough?"
"Double for zero casualties. Evacuee safety first."
Jin A-yeon flipped it—troops here suffice?—but Son Sang-hee stuck to full-guard math. Trusted nod, undead front-face.
"Then... hold till relief! Game on!"
Faith in rear, zero pause—dove skeleton sea for brass hunt.
"We'll hold somehow. All hands, Bahamut Bullet restrictions lifted! Full throttle, make it epic!"
"Ooooooh!"
Son Sang-hee matched: unleashed Cult ace, Bahamut Bullets. Troops swapped mags like pros, muzzles trained on bone rush.