Blockade
“······She’s gone.”
The voice that flowed from the control room hologram settled into silence.
The chief steward’s hand, which had been stroking the leaves of the small orchid beside the console, came to a stop.
There was no mistaking who the report meant.
The young lady who had shut herself away in the main house. The child who, ever since the day Yeon Mu-jin died, had not taken a single step beyond her door—until now, when she had finally walked out on her own.
One orchid leaf folded under the pressure of the chief steward’s fingertip.
Only then did he slowly lift his head.
“······Since when.”
The Holy Light Council investigation convoy was on the move.
Black armored transports raced along the outer blockade corridor that linked District 30 and District 32. The purification filters under their chassis glowed red-hot, cooled, and flared again in endless cycles; thick armor plating was already caked with black pollution particles. Only the emblem of the Holy Light Council stood out sharp and clean against the hulls.
At the outer checkpoints, barrier gates opened one after another for the column.
Chief Executor Ezekiel Vermilion sat in the lead vehicle. His crimson eyes remained fixed on the holographic map while the control officer delivered his report.
“All aerial routes remain closed across the entire sector. Low-altitude pollution density has exceeded critical thresholds, and the upper layers have been reclassified as flight-capable pollution-entity activity zones. We have no choice but to maintain the ground blockade corridor.”
“Estimated delay?”
“At current transit speed, roughly two hours. Subject to change depending on pollution density ahead.”
“Increase speed.”
“Understood.”
With District 30’s skyways sealed, the improvised surface route was anything but safe. Yet these armored transports had been built from the ground up for one purpose: punching through contaminated zones.
Beyond the windows, the blurred lights of the district’s outer fringe slid past. Past the shantytowns and waste rails, only a handful of central blocks rose like blades, still protected by armored glass and automated perimeter systems.
Rin turned her gaze from the glass.
“Will we be late?”
Ezekiel did not look up from the map.
“We are on schedule.”
Markers crowded the display in a tangled web: District 32 boundary, last confirmed Core position, Knight-class engagement traces, appearance site of an unclassified line-grade entity, and indicators of Yeon Mu-jin’s solo intervention as leader of Jema-dae.
Everything was far too close together.
Static suddenly boiled across the comms.
Tsssshk.
District 30 Outer Wall Erosion Grade Rising. Current: C-4.
The communications officer snapped his head up.
“Chief Executor. Outer alert has climbed to C-4. The rate of increase is markedly higher than normal.”
“No need to make a fuss over C-4.”
Ezekiel’s indifferent reply left no one bold enough to add a word.
Rin spoke quietly.
“Shall we consider a detour?”
The crimson eyes turned to her.
“Unnecessary.”
He returned his attention to the map.
In the hush that followed, the sensory assist device on Karin’s wrist, who had been watching the window, chirped and trembled.
“Karin.”
Rin called softly, but Karin could not answer at once. Her fingertips were trembling finely.
“Just now······ the direction changed.”
Rin’s eyes narrowed.
“The Core?”
Karin slowly shook her head.
“No. Whatever was covering the Core······ moved.”
Even Ezekiel’s crimson gaze swung toward Karin—then the comms network spat a piercing warning tone.
Beeeep—!
District 30 Outer Wall Erosion Grade Reclassified. Current: C-5. Repeat. C-5.
The communications officer’s face drained of color.
“C-5······.”
Every voice inside the vehicle cut off.
Even Ezekiel’s fingers halted above the map.
District 32 boundary. Core trajectory. Line-grade entity appearance site. And now a C-5 wall.
“Possibility of error?”
“Cross-checking district network against outer automated alarms simultaneously. One moment······ All match, Chief Executor.”
Ezekiel cast his gaze out the window.
The sky toward the wall was already belching a thick haze of black smoke. The vehicles ahead automatically decelerated and flashed detour routes onto their displays.
Ezekiel’s fingertip brushed the map once, short and sharp; the blinking red detour lines forced themselves off.
“Maintaining original route.”
The communications officer swallowed dryly.
“Destination remains the same.”
Ezekiel spoke without looking away from the screen.
“We simply have one more reason.”
Still staring toward the wall, Karin’s wrist device chirped sharply again.
“That way······.”
Rin’s gaze moved from Karin to Ezekiel.
“At least the direction isn’t wrong.”
At that exact moment—
Clunk!
The chassis bucked as though hurled upward, and a massive rupture exploded from the front.
Boom!
Interior lights flickered. Equipment bolted to the walls shook violently; the comms network erupted in noise.
Tsssshk!
“Chief Executor! Engagement confirmed on the access lane seven hundred meters ahead.”
Rin’s eyes narrowed. Despite its name, this blockade corridor was nothing more than a forced passage punched through contaminated ground—no place to linger and fight.
Ezekiel flicked a finger.
“Confirm it.”
The control officer immediately opened the external observation feed.
Black dots and noise burst across the cracked screen, then the carnage on the forward blockade corridor resolved into view.
Two thinly armored transport-company vehicles lay canted across the middle of the lane. Behind them, refugees in protective suits huddled and shook between the wrecks.
Two women stood in front of them, barring the way.
One, in black combat gear, held a shield. She desperately batted away flying black thorns while shielding the people behind her.
And at the very front—
A woman in a white outer coat, high-class ceremonial attire hastily layered with external armor plating, stood with a sword in hand.
What she faced was grotesque.
Rotting flesh and severed cables tangled between thick armor plates; inside a half-melted helm, bluish-white light flickered. Its gait staggered as though a corpse had been forced upright and made to walk.
“Irregular Knight-class estimated entity!”
Every step the thing took made the metal floor of the lane scream and buckle.
The white-coated woman’s blade coiled smoothly, tracking the creature’s ankle. Rather than meet the oncoming force head-on, she deflected it and severed the joint.
Yet the black fibers beneath the armor writhed and shoved the thing another step forward.
A massive Knight-class arm crashed down toward her head.
Boom!
An instant before impact, her toes shifted direction in a short pivot. The blue blade skimmed the floor; the crushing force slid aside and carved past her.
Crash!
The adjacent lane tore open in a crater. She could not retreat.
Murky energy gnawed at the flow of her taiji. Black thorns from every side stabbed into the narrowed gaps.
Red blood sprayed from her fingertips.
The taiji sword style needed leisure and breadth to unleash its full power. But with refugees and vehicles at her back, she had nowhere left to yield ground.
The Knight-class entity suddenly drove its arm into the earth.
Black fibers spread beneath the lane floor and erupted from under the vehicles where the refugees hid. The shield-bearing martial artist threw herself into the path, but she could not absorb the full shock. The shield’s edge shredded; her shoulder wrenched backward.
The woman stepped aside in a single slanted pace.
Her blade tip descended first, pinning the root of the rising fibers. Then her wrist rolled softly, letting the flat of the blade ride along the fibers’ flank so the surging destructive force spilled out beside the vehicles.
The sword flow never broke.
Her tip darted in short and cut the Knight-class entity’s elbow joint.
Bluish-white light flared roughly inside the helm.
It did not stop. Black fibers reknit through the severed armor gap, and the opposite arm scythed toward her side.
She did not retreat.
The blade stuck to the inner arm. Instead of pushing with force, she guided the incoming shock down along the sword.
Boom!
The lane floor caved as if exploding. Her feet scraped a long trail across the metal plating as she was driven back, yet the sword never dropped. The narrowed taiji flow closed once more and barred the front of the vehicles.
“Director, your arm······!”
The shield-bearer shouted as though coughing blood.
“The vehicles first.”
“But at this rate your body······!”
“Get the vehicles out!”
For the first time, an edge entered the woman’s previously unshaken voice.
The control officer hurriedly zoomed the feed. Through the torn white coat, a small crest etched below the nape of her neck caught the lens.
Mudang Corporation board mark. Craftsmanship of the main family’s direct line.
Rin’s expression hardened.
“Dam So-hye······.”
Successor of Mudang Corporation, and the fiancée of the late Jema-dae leader Yeon Mu-jin.
Ezekiel’s crimson eyes settled coldly on the woman on the screen.
When he rose from his seat without a word, the air inside the vehicle congealed.
“Chief Executor?”
He issued the order without looking away from the display.
“Stop the vehicles.”
A Knight-class entity in the contaminated zone, sensory readings pulled toward the wall, and the Mudang heiress.
Ezekiel’s gaze locked onto Dam So-hye on the screen.
“Open the forward hatch.”
At those words the control officer’s hand paused for a beat.
“I will confirm it myself.”