Chapter 73
"We need to bring back Great Swordmaster-nim."
A solution finally came from the mouth of Gu Ji-sang, deputy leader of the Black Sword Squad.
"Ohhh..."
"He’s coming back to the Black Sword Squad...?"
The members murmured among themselves, each of them marveling at the idea.
"If he comes back, then even the Murim Alliance—"
"Enough."
Just as the conversation was naturally about to swing toward agreement with Gu Ji-sang’s proposal, Han Su-jin cut in with a growl.
"Don’t say another word."
At her warning, the members shut their mouths.
"......"
Her sharp gaze narrowed on Gu Ji-sang.
She looked like the one who would welcome the proposal to bring back the Great Swordmaster she revered above all else, yet her reaction was the exact opposite.
Was it because if he came back, she’d have to step down from her post as captain?
Not a chance.
That position existed only because he had chosen her for it in the first place. Since becoming captain, she had never once thought of that seat as truly hers.
A place like that could be handed back a hundred times, a thousand times over.
"Have you all already forgotten why he left?"
Han Su-jin’s cold rebuke cooled the room at once.
Right. In the excitement of hearing he might return, they had forgotten for a moment.
"Do you really think it makes sense to call back the man who left the Black Sword Squad for our sake?"
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Judging by the way they spoke, it was easy enough to guess that the Black Sword Squad’s first captain had been Great Swordmaster.
Unlike the other Seven Martial Stars, he had no school or sect to speak of; he was a lone wolf, all by himself. The Murim Alliance had entrusted him with an independent armed unit.
Not a regular force, and not even one of several independent armed units. Just one measly unit.
For what the Seven Martial Stars would later receive, it was a pitiful amount of support, but there had been no helping it.
At the time, the higher-ups of the Murim Alliance had thought something along the lines of, The heroes of Central Plains Murim are gambling their lives to fight, so where the hell does some barbarian think he’s going?
And even then, he’d only been given that much because he was a vital combat asset, a Transcendent Realm expert.
We’re pausing here to point out the small-mindedness of the Central Plains barbarians who practiced discrimination even in the middle of war—
Huh? That was just because Great Swordmaster had caused so much chaos at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering and beyond— cough cough!
Hey, hey! I’m in the middle of a narration, so shut up for a second!
......
Anyway, the independent unit assigned to him.
Its name was the Thirty-Seventh Unit.
There was no special meaning behind the name.
It simply meant they were the thirty-seventh unit formed.
The name was ordinary, but the composition was not.
The Thirty-Seventh Unit consisted of people who had lost their hometowns, families, and sects to the Demon Cult, and whose hatred was immense, but whose martial prowess was nothing special—basically a nobody unit.
They had been assigned to a barbarian master of notorious past renown, someone the higher-ups figured they could afford to lose without much pain.
Since these guys would be used as either spearhead troops or meat shields anyway, they might as well serve as a convenient filter for dangerous elements while preserving a shred of face.
But contrary to what the higher-ups expected, the Thirty-Seventh Unit under Great Swordmaster—no, under Geom Mujin—changed.
-We’ll skip the final battle cry!
-That’s not it, you idiot! Swing the sword like this! Like this!
-Ryoiki... no, sword formation deployment!
Under Geom Mujin’s command, they underwent brutal training and learned martial arts and battle formations.
-Do the Three-Style Sword Technique a hundred times!
-Agh!
-Your voice is too quiet! Two hundred times!!
-Aaagh!!
-Three hundred!!!
And not only that, they were also taught a kind of relentless, soul-crushing drill even nastier than demonic qi itself.
After completing a special training regimen that combined the military culture of the most advanced people on Earth, the Korean race, they became different men.
Their average martial level, which had been in the mid-second-class range, rose all the way into the upper first-class range.
Considering that it had taken only about three months, the result was staggering.
What else went into it?
Nothing else was needed.
Relentless drill can make anything possible—and even make the impossible possible.
That was what relentless drill was.
As an aside, they had initially resisted fiercely because of their rotten Central Plains supremacist ideas, but that too was normalized by the power of relentless drill—physical edition.
The Thirty-Seventh Unit’s exploits were astounding.
-Battle formation, deploy!
-Kraaaagh!
Their first target was a mid-ranked demon.
Before they met him, they would have had to brace for major casualties, even a corpse among their ranks, but they slaughtered him without a single dead or wounded man.
That alone was shocking, considering one of their members had once had a leg cut off in a fight with a mid-ranked demon.
After that, they surged forward like a tidal wave.
Mid-ranked demons, high-ranked demons, all kinds of Goema.
Countless Demon Cultists were torn apart by their teeth.
Of course, Geom Mujin’s support played a role, but that didn’t erase their own effort.
Before long, people stopped calling them the Thirty-Seventh Unit and began referring to them by a new name: the Black Sword Squad.
It meant the unit led by the swordsman with black hair.
It was the moment when a mere disposable strike unit, a nobody formation, had caught up with the reputation of a regular force.
And more than anyone else, there were those who found that deeply uncomfortable.
Ironically, those people were the same higher-ups of the Murim Alliance who had decided the unit was worthless and handed it over to Geom Mujin.
The problem wasn’t that a truly outstanding armed unit had emerged from among the independent units.
On the contrary, that was exactly what they wanted.
The problem was that the armed unit was led by a black-haired man.
Especially if that black-haired man happened to be the one who had made a mess of the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering.
Word of the Black Sword Squad and Geom Mujin spread quietly from mouth to mouth, and the higher-ups grew more and more uneasy.
Even so, the Jeongma War was still the priority, so there was nothing they could do for the time being.
They hated to swallow their pride as Central Plains people, but this was a time when they had no choice but to borrow the strength of a black-haired barbarian.
And if they were honest, there was also a lazy little hope that, like some poisoner family or other, he might just die in the war and solve the problem for them.
As things stood now, though, Geom Mujin hadn’t died in that hellish war.
No, he had actually risen to an even higher realm through the war.
People called him one of the Seven Martial Stars because of that towering height.
Of course, compared to the other stars, his influence was by no means great.
Still, he now had a small foundation called the Black Sword Squad.
Power-holders never overlook even the smallest matters.
Those same power-holders had already been cleared out, undermined by rivals who’d staged a coup against them.
That was when it started.
All kinds of pressure began to be applied to the Black Sword Squad, which had gone out to subdue the remnants after the Jeongma War.
At first, it began with small things.
Administrative harassment—delaying support and supplies, bouncing their documents all over the place—just like the Black Sword Squad was dealing with now.
-Hey! That was our kill! Get lost!
-What are you talking about? That Goema was clearly subdued by our Black Sword Squad—
-Black Sword, White Sword, I don’t know or care. Our unit took it down! Look at these sword marks! Anyone can see it was us!
-In that case, why is everyone holding a blade?
-What!? Are you accusing me of lying? Which Murim Alliance generation are you from, huh?!
Whenever they tried to exterminate demons or Goema, some other unit would suddenly butt in and make absurd claims of ownership.
Every time that happened, they would request arbitration from the Murim Alliance and get things settled, but it always took a great deal of trouble.
Once, the nonsense went so far that Geom Mujin finally lost his temper and drew his sword, and just like that, malicious rumors began spreading as if they had been waiting for the excuse.
-Have you heard? The Great Swordmaster of the Seven Martial Stars threatened a martial artist from a lesser sect with his blade.
-What? Why would a hero of the martial world do that?
-They say a martial artist from a lesser sect talked back to him.
-Unbelievable... I thought the Seven Martial Stars would be different even if he was a black-haired barbarian, but in the end he’s just a crude outsider.
Those cleverly edited, deeply malicious rumors chipped away at his reputation.
And that wasn’t the end of it. The Black Sword Squad was also assigned all sorts of dangerous subjugation missions.
The reason was simple: the Black Sword Squad was overwhelmingly strong compared to the other armed units.
As this went on, Geom Mujin finally threw up his hands.
-As of today, I’m out of the Black Sword Squad.
By then, even he could no longer pretend not to know.
He knew exactly what those bastards were after.
He could shrug off the Central Plains barbarians talking shit about him—well, maybe “shrug it off” was too generous, but he could endure it somehow.
But he couldn’t stand the Black Sword Squad being hurt because of him.
One way or another, he had grown attached to them.
-N-no, you can’t do that! Please reconsider!
-That’s right. Don’t let yourself fall for their tricks...!
Han Su-jin and the rest of the Black Sword Squad tried to stop him, but they couldn’t hold him back.
Once he had made up his mind, he appointed Han Su-jin, who had faithfully served beside him for a long time, as the next captain.
-My sword still seems to be lacking. If fate allows it, we’ll meet again.
Even his sword, which had once cut down the Heavenly Demon, could not sever the deep-rooted discrimination and prejudice of this world.
With those words, Geom Mujin left as abruptly as he had first appeared.
When news that he had left the Black Sword Squad reached the Murim Alliance, the supplies that had been delayed came pouring in as if by magic.
Though of course, that would all end again soon enough.
"You want to bring back the man who left to protect us from those petty higher-ups?"
Han Su-jin snorted.
"I don’t want to burden him any further."
"......"
"......"
Most of the Black Sword Squad knew it.
If things had gone as originally planned, they would have been used as nothing more than meat shields in the Jeongma War and died there.
They came from minor sects, poor noble clans, even hunting backgrounds—there wasn’t a single one of them who looked like he had the makings of a real power. The Thirty-Seventh Unit had been exactly that sort of scrap heap.
Revenge? Forget revenge. Merely being able to glimpse the shadow of their enemy would have been a miracle.
Not only had he led such people, he had taught them martial arts and even made room for them to seek revenge.
Like she said, if they had even a shred of decency, they shouldn’t be clinging to him.
"...Even so."
As the others fell silent, Gu Ji-sang spoke up.
"Even so... I think we have to call him back."
"You—!"
Han Su-jin shot to her feet and grabbed him by the collar.
"You’re the deputy captain too, and you’re still saying we should drag him back just because the Murim Alliance is being stingy with support...!"
If Geom Mujin hadn’t ordered them to squeeze the Murim Alliance for every last thing they could before he left, she would’ve quit long ago.
"Yeah. I saw everything up close too."
Gu Ji-sang met her eyes without flinching.
"But right now, we need to set aside personal feelings and make the choice that’s best for the organization. Have you forgotten why we came here?"
They had come to Yunnan Province, out on the frontier, not because of the Twin-Scythe Skull-Eyed Demon.
If he heard that, he’d probably feel wronged, but he had only been a lucky find along the way. Their real objective was somewhere else.
Because the final trace of that bastard they had tracked for so long had been here.
"You fought him yourself, so you know this already, but that bastard is dangerous. We can’t handle him on our own."
Gu Ji-sang turned his head and looked at the empty spaces left by the members who had died in their last battle.
"Even if it isn’t only about support and supplies, we need him now."
Han Su-jin’s brow furrowed.
"Only then can we avenge the fallen members... and your own revenge, too."
Gu Ji-sang said this while staring at the eyepatch over her eye.
"......"
Han Su-jin found herself touching the eyepatch unconsciously.
Crackle, crackle.
The campfire flickered, as if reflecting the state of someone’s heart.
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"This party leader is disappointed in you all."
Somewhere not in Yunnan Province.
A pair of eyes blazed like fire.