110. Allied Forces (1)
The refugee procession only ground to a halt upon reaching the safe haven of Gyeongju. Escorted by elite troops dispatched from the Balhut Cult, the evacuees arrived without incident and immediately lined up for identity verification at the administrative offices, where they could access settlement programs and support tailored for refugees.
Of course, Jin A-yeon had no intention of lingering—she planned to head straight back to Ulsan. So while waiting for Son Sang-hee to finish her report, she wandered around the Balhut Cult's headquarters.
"…What the hell. This place is fine."
It was far more intact than she'd imagined. To be precise, the city was well on its way to pre-apocalypse prosperity. Gyeongju brimmed with such vitality that A-yeon wondered if it had ever pulsed like this before. In this hellish end times, it stood alone as the last bastion of civilized life.
With time to kill before departure, A-yeon climbed to the rooftop of the Balhut Cult's main temple and surveyed the scene. One detail immediately caught her eye.
"No bartering. They're actually buying shit with money?"
The streets teemed with economic bustle—food stalls, market vendors, crowds haggling and trading like it was any normal day. Sure, this was everyday life before the apocalypse, but it had been over six months since anyone had seen anything like it.
She was witnessing the civilized world she'd written off as gone forever, right before her eyes.
"Now I get why Han Seong-geun was pushing for cooperation."
The reason for his alliance with the cult finally clicked. Some things you had to see to believe.
It wasn't just A-yeon. Even the refugees queued up for registration at the main temple could feel it. Their faces, once grim, now flickered with hope amid the Gyeongju citizens' infectious energy—as if they'd stumbled into paradise at last.
"They seriously thinking of turning this into a country or what?"
"Like it or not, the international community already recognizes them as the Korean Peninsula's sole legitimate government."
Perhaps catching A-yeon's mutter, Son Sang-hee approached from behind and replied, stepping up beside her.
Unlike her cult uniform earlier, she wore casual clothes now. A-yeon scratched her head and grinned at the newcomer.
"Oh. Sang-hee unni. Business done?"
"Yes. Reports to the main temple are filed. So first things first—on behalf of the Balhut Cult, we sincerely welcome you to our headquarters."
Sang-hee nodded to confirm, then extended a heartfelt welcome. A-yeon had heard it dozens of times from cult staff already, so she shot her a bored look.
With Sang-hee here, she'd figured Choi Yu-na might show too. But it was just the one.
A touch disappointed, A-yeon voiced her curiosity.
"Where's Yu-na-ssi?"
"She's busy. Treating refugees with chronic illnesses or injuries."
The answer was straightforward: busy. Not an excuse—she was genuinely working healing magic on the evacuees.
Mana shortages made it impossible on the front lines, but here in safety, she could cut loose.
Some refugees were retired awakeners sidelined by old wounds or disabilities. Choi Yu-na's power to mend physical defects made her indispensable.
Hell, patching up their hurts, ailments, and missing parts right now would lock in their loyalty overnight. Especially for these folks, fresh off witnessing that brutal battle—prime candidates for a morale boost.
"Damn, she's good."
"Isn't she?"
A-yeon had no clue about the politics, but Yu-na's skills? Impressive as hell.
Sure, she'd seen healers in Fukuoka and Ulsan—top-tier ones, even. But...
"Healers I know can barely handle cuts and bruises. Sure, for a frontline brawler like me, that's gold."
"Same. Pohang's best couldn't fix a face and body melted down to sludge."
"At that point, you'd figure they're toast, right?"
They lacked Yu-na's caliber. Which made her feats hit even harder. A-yeon praised her by comparison, and Sang-hee gave a wry smile, sharing her own Pohang horror story.
A-yeon blinked, incredulous. "No shit? They're still alive? And kicking?"
"Yep. Out in the East Sea right now, smashing ghost fleets."
Alive and thriving, blasting Turn Undead nonstop, reaping undead like the grim reaper herself. Picturing Seol-hwa's beaming grin amid the carnage, Sang-hee smiled warmly.
Too damn tough—even the sleazy adults scheming to puppet her ended up as her marionettes. Good believers could look the other way.
Yu-na-death-beam or Seol-hwa-death-beam: equal opportunity annihilation.
"Whoa. Sounds nuts from me, but awakeners are tanks. Eh, apocalypse world's basically magic anyway. Kinda terrifying how we just roll with it."
"Haha. Fair. I pinch myself sometimes, wondering if it's real."
A-yeon chuckled bitterly at the absurdity of apocalyptic normalcy, and Sang-hee laughed along in solidarity.
They were still gaping at fresh undead horrors, after all. Now? Whatever crawled out next, they'd shrug and laugh.
First time seeing a freakish new critter, though? Mouth agape, panic mode—guaranteed.
"And rebuilding civilized society here? Wild. Magic trick or what? Nothing like the cities I've seen."
Genuinely curious, A-yeon pressed: how the hell had they pulled this off?
Fukuoka and Ulsan hadn't come close. Immortal Cult ruled Ulsan, so that tracked—but Fukuoka was still zombie-besieged, doubly so after her departure left a power vacuum.
"Magic...? Think of it as the cult's hard work, believers' blood and sweat, all under the Dragon God's guidance. Gyeongju, Pohang—they've rallied as one to this revival."
Not wrong, exactly, but...
"Dragon God, huh. Actually trustworthy?"
The heavy religious vibe tensed A-yeon up. Fresh off the Immortal Cult's faith-fueled suicide bombs, questioning if this Dragon God was legit? Totally fair.
"Yes. You can meet him right now. Interested?"
"Uh..."
Sang-hee offered to set it up, quashing doubts on the spot. But A-yeon hesitated, a flicker of fear in her eyes.
Golden chance to settle her suspicions—but...
"Straight up, I'm scared. Sorry. I get you're hooking me up, Sang-hee unni. Just... not ready in the head yet."
Took guts to face a god in this godless world. Brawler who'd charge any fight tooth-and-nail? Here, she balked, kicking the meeting down the road.
"I get it. Truth is... I was shaking my first time too. Without a kid I knew tagging along, I might not have even stepped inside the temple."
"You weren't Balhut Cult originally?"
Sang-hee nodded sympathetically, admitting with a wry smile that without her young companion, she'd have frozen at the temple doors.
Back then, crushed by outsized responsibility, she'd dragged Baek Seol-hwa there anyway. Looking back? Mad courage.
A-yeon picked up on it. "Wait, you weren't cult from the start?"
"Right. I'm from Pohang, not Gyeongju. Lived as a refugee till the cult reached us. Couple months, maybe...?"
"Ah, crap. Sorry—dug up bad memories."
Sang-hee confessed openly. A-yeon apologized; refugee life in the apocalypse was never pretty.
"Nah. Good memories are rare these days anyway. Sure, Gyeongju's got shortages. But it's a place where you can start stacking up the good ones."
"This spot's something else."
"Yeah. That's why I'll defend this paradise."
"For the one you serve, too."
Sang-hee vowed to protect it, true to the ideals of her Dragon Priestess, Baek Seol-hwa—ushering in a promised land.
"Kinda sounds like you're not following Yu-na, though."
"No, I follow Yu-na-nim too. But... Pohang has someone like her. I believe in that kid's paradise."
Sensing the disconnect, A-yeon took it as divided loyalties. Sang-hee clarified: Yu-na yes, but Pohang's own Dragon Priestess too.
She truly believed the cries of the one battling East Sea ghost fleets—and the paradise Baek Seol-hwa would birth.
"We'll make this world a true paradise. Where people live like people."
"Hell yeah. Good plan. Solid dream."
"Right?"
How could a humane paradise be bad? A-yeon agreed wholeheartedly.
"Great dream."
Hm. Was it a blessing A-yeon hadn't met Seol-hwa yet... or a curse?
"You'll totally click with her, A-yeon-ssi."
Either way, Son Sang-hee was now a full-fledged member of the Balhut Cult.