112. Winter (1)
In truth, Ulsan Airport was still being defended just fine by Han Seong-geun and his allied forces, and now the airport's strongest Awakener, Jin A-yeon, had returned as well. Honestly, defense itself wasn't an issue at all. Son Sang-hee, Jeong Dong-gun's adjutant, might not match Jin A-yeon, but she was still a formidable fighter, and the allied forces were now properly supplied with weapons.
Even back when they lacked proper gear, as long as they aimed well, mass assaults by regular zombies—nothing more than walking targets—were manageable. Of course, the hidden variant zombies... no, named undead lurking among them posed a real threat to the allies, and casualties did occur.
"Oryaah!"
"Named undead spotted at 6 o'clock—one."
"On it right away!"
Though they hid among the regular undead, Son Sang-hee, a detection-type Awakener, could sense their malevolent power and pinpoint their locations in no time. So, like an operator directing Jin A-yeon in some kind of operation, Son Sang-hee roamed the battlefield, relaying real-time intel on named undead the moment she spotted them. Jin A-yeon then used that info to hunt them down one by one.
Of course, being called "named" meant they were powerful foes, just like the variant zombies before—enemies even Awakened struggled against.
"This gear's the real deal! Damn!"
The Balhut Cult had a policy of favoring Awakeners, and it wasn't empty talk. From their daily lives to their equipment, the government guaranteed everything for them. Naturally, they called them heroes, and for someone as powerful as Jin A-yeon, the cult had invested heavily. Right now, she was sweeping the battlefield in the top-tier gear sponsored by the cult.
"Man, this is what gear carry looks like!"
"Yes. Good equipment boosts an Awakener's survival rate."
"Now I get why Han Seong-geun decided to team up. I kinda knew already, but this seals it. This is seriously impressive!"
She could forget those days at Ulsan Airport when she wielded a crudely sharpened spear and a motorcycle helmet for head protection. Now, Jin A-yeon charged through the fray with a spear engraved with the cult's core enchant magic tech and a combat suit made from silk processed from variant spider zombie threads—a recent breakthrough. Her thigh holster held a pistol loaded with Bahamut Bullets as a sidearm, and she was fully kitted with a versatile greatsword for emergencies. She was a walking arsenal, a superhuman weapon from head to toe.
And with that...
"Yes. Next one's at 8 o'clock. Can you deploy immediately?"
"You bet. Leave it to me, Sang-hee unni!"
With unit-level support and route guidance from her operator aide, she could dominate the battlefield solo. No matter how they hid in the undead waves, Son Sang-hee spotted the named undead, guiding Jin A-yeon straight to them via the fastest path. Once the named undead leading a horde fell, the group crumbled into a disorganized mob.
And those disorganized undead? Just walking targets. The allied soldiers handled them easily enough.
"Kinda disappointing. This is prime Awakening event material, and we're missing it."
Normally, in such a safe hunting setup, camps needing Awakeners would let Awakeners suppress zombies while normals finished them off to trigger Awakenings. But unfortunately, even though this was a large-scale event perfect for mass Awakenings, the civilians who could awaken had all evacuated to Gyeongju.
Sure, some unawakened civilians remained inside Ulsan Airport, but...
"The problem is the battlefield keeps shifting. Even when named undead vanish, the hordes regain control unusually fast."
The disorganized mobs reformed into threats in seconds. Even after scattering them by killing their named leader, new groups quickly formed under fresh named undead. The Immortal Cult seemed to declare that their field-deployed named were mere NCOs—replaceable at will—rendering Jin A-yeon's assassinations meaningless, a silent propaganda stunt.
"So the puppet masters are elsewhere?"
"Yes. Similar to what we saw during the Gyeongju evacuation with those necromancers."
"Damn, those bastards always gotta mess with good deeds."
Son Sang-hee likened it to the necromancers who ambushed evacuees back then. It was annoyingly persistent, nullifying their usual tactics against the endless undead waves.
"Fire! Pour it on 'em!"
The allies relied on barricades, unleashing all available firepower to push the horde back beyond Ulsan Bridge. Imported American heavy machine guns and modern weaponry terrorized every undead that approached the airport. They'd even hauled self-propelled guns and shells from the Marine base, blasting the mobs. Every ounce of firepower was on display.
No need to advance beyond the bridge—just hold Ulsan Airport until Jeong Dong-gun rescued the neutral camps. Normally they'd avoid collapsing nearby buildings, but now they toppled them deliberately to block paths.
"All nearby camps have been rescued. Let's pull back our lines."
About a week of nonstop allied forces vs. Immortal Cult fighting ended with Jeong Dong-gun saving the last survivor camp backed by Ulsan Airport. Confident no more camps needed rescue, the allies withdrew units from Hakseong Bridge and Myeongchon Bridge to the Sangbongsa intersection, shrinking their overextended fronts to focus solely on defending the airport.
"Hm. Considering what we lost... is this a defeat?"
"A defeat, yes."
In the end, the Immortal Cult had fully secured the route north via Ulsan Bridge, making them the battle's victors. They'd seized key river-crossing points like Hakseong Bridge, Myeongchon Bridge, and Ulsan Bridge, plus parts of northern Ulsan near the bridges. Who else could claim victory?
The issue was...
"But it won't feel like a clean win for them either."
Coldly assessed, the Immortal Cult's victory was a sour one—more like they'd been dragged into the allies' plan. A Pyrrhic win at best. The allies had evacuated all their Ulsan supporters to the airport, consolidated scattered forces by narrowing the front, gaining both justification and substance. The only regret: the Immortal Cult held the southern Ulsan routes. But...
We can always cross via the navy if needed.
The Balhut Cult had a navy for amphibious ops. With East Sea dominance already secured, no need to divert the ghost fleet—just borrow fishing boats from Pohang or nearby ports for the crossing.
In short, the cult could infiltrate southern Ulsan anytime without the bridges.
"True. The land they took? Empty— no people, no supplies. Nothing usable right now. Recapturing it means squat."
Territory needs people to matter; empty houses offered none. Worse, to clinch victory, the Immortal Cult had to eject the Balhut Cult allies from Ulsan entirely—but the allies had merely gone defensive, still wielding influence.
So the first battle ended with both sides grabbing all they could. A fair assessment.
"They got theirs. We got ours. Stalemate."
Their forces balanced out, locking into deadlock. Such situations needed a wildcard to break—and the Balhut Cult had one. But unlike Pohang...
"We don't know who their 'lord' is, so we can't casually summon the Dragon God."
"Yes. We need more intel on the Immortal Cult."
The enemy likely had a trump card too—the "lord" figure both sides mentioned. The battle had revealed some of their strength, hinting at more hidden. Rashly summoning Dragon God Bahamut was off the table.
The Dragon God was the cult's ace, best saved for decisive moments.
Jeong Dong-gun's defeat isn't the Balhut Cult's downfall—just another routine loss. But Bahamut's defeat spells doom for the cult.
This allied loss would be logged as ordinary. They'd gained what they could—no real harm. But a Dragon God defeat? Cult extinction.
Bahamut's deployment is for the absolute last resort. Gather intel and hold for now.
Without enemy intel, blind summons were to be avoided.
"In this case... if other southern Ulsan camps or public opinion swung our way instead of theirs..."
"Unfortunately, Ulsan community's still the same."
With trumps on hold, they needed another variable: Ulsan public opinion. Northern Ulsan now favored the allies post-battle, but southern—Immortal Cult turf—was unknown. The real headache: Ulsan community stayed eerily quiet.
"Public opinion's being controlled. The difference? Anti-Balhut Cult rants and slurs are flying freely now."
Yes, controlled. Immortal Cult seemed to run the site—hundreds of thumbs-ups and comments propelled anti-cult posts to the top, while counters vanished instantly.
"Yeah. Probably all admins are theirs. We post anything suspicious, boom—blocked or deleted."
"Real-time astroturfing crews or comment bots, likely."
So swift: allies' organized posts on battle truths unfavorable to the cult? Deleted in under a minute. Pro-cult content? Instant top posts, visible to all visitors.
Worse...
"Whoa. Battle just ended minutes ago, and they're already posting about it elsewhere. From the Immortal Cult's angle, of course."
"Fast. Real pro propaganda team."
They'd seeded other communities with cult-favoring info: demonizing allies, claiming unprovoked aggression by a "fake government," portraying the cult as righteous defenders. Absurd enough to draw bitter laughs from the allies.
"Communities always got that crap, right? Pseudo-cults grab power and go dictator."
"Yeah."
"Not wrong."
Online manipulation predated the apocalypse—in Korea and abroad. Individuals twisted facts routinely; suckers abounded. Nothing new. Pre-end times, real-time sharing debunked it fast—but now?
"Problem is, it's working. No verified gov or news. Can't check facts yourself. Everyone relies on local community scraps. Powerless survivors can't even post."
Jin A-yeon's sharp words left Jeong Dong-gun and Han Seong-geun speechless, then sighing. She was spot-on. The cult's community dominance painted allies as Korea's villains.
"If they propagandize this thoroughly, our claims won't stick."
"We're already tagged as a cult. Reputation can't drop much more."
The cult's image was trashed long ago by Jo Sun-do's remnants. Enemy claims hit hard; few bought allied counterarguments.
"Annoying."
"If they flood Ulsan community with pro-Immortal Cult stuff, we'll hit Gyeongju and Pohang communities with their atrocities and our justice. Luckily, embedded reporter Kang Jae-wan plans to cover the battle."
The cult couldn't ignore it—lest lies become "facts" like past cases. Time to counter via their own sites. And they had Kang Jae-wan, who'd witnessed and documented everything—perfect for refuting cult lies.
"Next issue..."
"The snow and cold still falling."
But public opinion wasn't their only problem. Midwinter Korea's hellish chill tormented the allies.