Daedo: Great Flight or Great Capital?
The northern gate of the fortress lay hushed under a pall of terror.
Beyond the walls, the corpses of warriors and their heirs—who had joined the assault only to perish—were strewn thick for sky burial.
Jinhyuk's chilling aura, which he had emanated motionlessly from atop the wall for nearly half a day, still dominated the scene before the north gate.
As he reappeared, the nomads who had been murmuring lowly fell silent once more, gripped by fear of their impending judgment.
But Jinhyuk had no mental bandwidth to register their sharp reactions.
The northern chill pierced between his gaunt, skeletal joints, threatening to chatter his teeth, but he clenched his molars tight to stifle any sound.
Inside his child-sized garments, he had layered plain cotton and furs four deep.
It was a desperate camouflage—and tantrum—to hide his mummified, system-altered frailty.
Ah, fuck, this is heavy as hell. I'm doing this shit so the nomads don't see me as easy prey... but I'm gonna get crushed by the armor weight, not the enemy.
Jinhyuk screamed internally.
Only when he sank into the wooden chair—upholstered in hides that Beom Dal had shrewdly ordered his men to fetch—did his throbbing thigh muscles finally quiet their screams.
But the spectacle before him offered no respite.
Before the gate, amid the dust, 8,851 souls knelt in the dirt: the surviving stragglers from the 2,000-strong assault force and the refugees who had trailed them.
A cold glint of killing intent flashed in Jinhyuk's eyes.
Over 8,000 throats yawned like a massive black hole, the pressure heavier than his layered garments.
But Jinhyuk soon exhaled a long sigh and withdrew the murderous air.
Sigh, no. They're already slavelike enough—why bother slaughtering them all and stirring up a bloodbath? That'd just tire me out. What glory am I chasing anyway... just get to work.
He pressed his aching temples and steeled himself.
What was done was done; the burden was his now.
Hiding his trembling hands, he picked up a thick twig and carved letters into the dirt.
His lips moved silently as he muttered low in Korean, shattering the silence at the north gate.
"Beom Dal, get started. Call them up one by one, investigate, and record."
A faint stir rippled through the nomads at his words.
To Central Plains ears, it was just barbaric gibberish.
But to these steppe-hardened veterans who had roamed every corner of the plains, it evoked an eerie familiarity.
Even Xianbei warriors who had once raided or traded with the eastern fringes muttered lowly.
"Hey, that accent... doesn't it sound weirdly like the Goguryeo bastards we heard invading the eastern borders back then? The intonation, the way it ends—spot on."
A Khitan elder, who had wandered the lands between Central Plains and the East, warned softly.
"Not exactly the same, but definitely from that lineage. Dialect or whatever—look at him commanding Central Plains men and writing those characters. No ordinary man."
At that moment, among the surrendered warriors forming ranks, a few began acting conspicuously.
They mercilessly lashed whips at their own tribe's staggering women and children, starved and faltering, while bellowing.
"You useless trash! Can't you move briskly before the general?!"
Crack!
The sharp leather snap tore the silence.
"Waaah! Mommy! It hurts, it huuuurts!"
"Kyaaak! Please, mercy—just the child...!"
The child's piercing wail and the woman's desperate scream rent the air before the north gate.
The child rolled in the dirt, flailing stubby limbs, crimson welts vivid through thin hides on its body.
Jinhyuk's eyebrow twitched violently.
Even in this alien world, worlds away from his modern one, this repulsive overzealous loyalty—sacrificing kin to impress a lord—grated on him.
What the fuck is that psycho doing? Whipping a kid? Is that even human? My head's killing me already, and now this asshole's pissing me off. Useless scum like that are no help alive.
Jinhyuk nodded curtly at Beom Dal, then savagely scratched words into the dirt.
His fury seeped from the deeper gouges.
[Excessive Conduct] - Overstepping bounds
[Remove] - Clear it out
Beom Dal grasped the situation from Jinhyuk's icy glare alone.
He charged forward, seized the whip-wielder by the collar, and slammed him into the dirt.
"The brigade commander needs no flattery from scum like you! One who hesitates not even against his own tribesfolk—children at that—has no place in our Heavenly Wolf Brigade! Drag him out!"
Beom Dal's thunderous roar spurred the Heavenly Wolf troops into motion.
Their eyes burned with killing intent rivaling—no, surpassing—Jinhyuk's own ferocity.
Most had been scattered from families, reduced to slave soldiers, ignorant even of their kin's fates.
Whether the scene overlaid their own shattered homes or not, their hands sifted the trash without a hint of hesitation.
"Mercy, general! I was just enforcing discipline... eek! Spare me!"
As the man's groveling pleas faded while dragged away, the north gate fell silent again, like ice water doused upon it.
The whipped woman and child stared at Jinhyuk with eyes mixed terror and bewilderment, still eyeing the discarded whip on the ground.
Jinhyuk, stung by their gaze, turned his head slightly and muttered low.
"Beom Dal, pull the whipped ones forward separately. Finish registering them first, then arrange for the Survival Demons elders to tend their wounds."
Beom Dal's eyes widened briefly at the perceptive command, then he bowed deeply.
As Jinhyuk lifted the twig to carve new words in the dirt, Beom Dal bellowed from the gut before the strokes were complete.
[Aid the Wounded] - Relieve the injured
[Priority] - Handle first
"The brigade commander decrees! Those wounded by whips, step to the front of the ranks! Our lord shall summon the Survival Demons elders to tend your pain! This is our brigade commander's mercy—and his law!"
At Beom Dal's shout, elders and steppe warriors fluent in Central Plains tongue near the front sprang into action.
They urgently relayed the command in their languages toward the rear.
"The general commands! Bring the children forward! Move the injured to the front!"
"The great general is wroth! He orders care for the wounded! Move, now!"
To Jinhyuk's ears, the elders' Xianbei, Khitan, and Xiongnu cries translated seamlessly into smooth Korean via the system.
Beom Dal's insisted title of "brigade commander" morphed through the elders into "great general"—the blocker of their past southern advances.
The nomads realized, through Beom Dal's momentum and the ground-written edicts, that this was mercy from the sovereign holding their lives.
The Heavenly Wolf troops nodded in unison at Jinhyuk's decision and moved.
Bearing their own pains of family scatterings into slavery, their touch on wounded children brimmed with strange pity—unlike their ruthless purge of scum.
"Waaah! Mommy, it huuuurts... huuuurts!"
The child's piercing cry rent the air before the north gate once more—but now it was a plea for salvation, not despair.
The whipped woman gazed at Jinhyuk, eyes flickering between terror and wonder.
The ghost who had seemed to pronounce death amid the sky-buried corpses now ordered wounds of the lowliest tended first.
Jinhyuk ignored their感動 gazes and clicked his tongue inwardly.
No, a kid wailing like that kills focus and any admin admin work. That waaaah is driving me nuts. Treat 'em first to shut it down.
He pinched his throbbing brow and sighed softly.
It wasn't just the noise, truth be told.
The child's sobs evoked memories of holidays, scampering nephews amid the adults—not the hellion cousins dubbed "little shits" who wrecked the house, snapped his prized plastic models' joints, or drowned his game console in soda while begging for treats.
The helpless little ones who just whimpered.
Fuck, why am I thinking of those nephews here? Softens me up.
"Sigh, and calling in the Survival Demons geezers means they'll grumble about wasting precious meds on peons... where do I even send the bill..."
Jinhyuk schooled his face to solemnity and regripped the twig.
[Women and Children First]
[Wounded Next]
[Elders Last]
He added [Name] and [Skills] to the dirt.
Administrative officer No Hwi and the bureaucrat survivors, hands shaking, unrolled bamboo slips; the full tally of 8,851 identities recommenced.
Injured women and children received priority checks, then were passed to the fortress's Survival Demons elders for wound care.
As post-checks housed them in ger tents inside the fortress, order emerged; Jinhyuk summoned each tribe's elders.
Before the still-dusty gate, Jinhyuk sank wearily into his chair and spat curtly at Beom Dal.
"Beom Dal, gather the elders. Time to hear straight why they crawled this far south."
At Beom Dal's command, Xianbei, Khitan, Xiongnu elders prostrated at Jinhyuk's feet.
Jinhyuk carved boldly into the dirt with the twig.
[Why Southward?] - Why descend south?
A Xianbei elder fluent in Central Plains tongue replied in a quavering voice; the system rendered his tribal dialects into smooth Korean for Jinhyuk.
"Great general... a 'storm' ravages the steppe. Monsters crush and unify nameless tribes. They build a colossal fortress called 'Dae-do' and summon all great and small peoples there. Those who refuse are exterminated root and stem—we fled here just to live."
Dae-do (Great Way)? Or Dae-do (Great Thief)?
Jinhyuk furrowed his brow in query.
A literate Khitan elder crept forward cautiously, took the twig from Jinhyuk's hand.
With trembling care, he pressed two characters into the dirt.
[Great Flight]
"We call it 'Dae-do'—the Great Flight. Yet their fortress shares the sound, a truly eerie and fearsome thing."
Jinhyuk stared at the dirt-scrawled [Great Flight], recalling a history paper and chronicle passage from his scholar days, pored over through sleepless nights.
Great Flight? Great escape... but same sound—surely Dae-do (Great Capital)? The Yuan capital, Kublai Khan's? This is a murim world, right? Why the sudden whiff of historical monsters?
Jinhyuk's gamer-historian-scholar brain whirred furiously.
This naming was too blatant for coincidence.
This is insane. Isn't this a murim world? Why the Mongol Empire vibe all of a sudden?
He rubbed his goosebumped arms.
This was no alt-history novel—it was a high-powered wuxia realm of martial arts.
Yet a fortress called Dae-do rose in the steppe heart, unifying tribes.
Are the steppe unifiers Mongols... those 'big brothers who kill any man taller than a wagon wheel'? Or... another regressor/possessor/reincarnator besides me?
If a Genghis-level conqueror genius wielded martial arts, or some modern-knowledge holder militarized nomad cavalry, the outlook was direst.
Just thinking it sent chills down his spine.
Terror of the Mongol hordes—who burned half the world—crept real-time upon him.
Mongol revival? Or another transmigrator devouring the steppe?
Jinhyuk swallowed dryly, gripping the twig tighter.
Time for the core question.
[Their Tribe's Name?]
As Jinhyuk carved and the elder's lips parted—
"B-brigade commander! Big trouble!"
The urgent cry cutting his question came from No Hwi, the admin sent to inspect the fortress.
Jinhyuk's head creaked toward him.
No Hwi clutched a bamboo slip dense with numbers, face ashen.
"We're housing the injured and women first as ordered, but it's dire! Current water and meds can't handle half. And food... 8,851 mouths opening at once—factoring the brigade—will empty all warehouses in under two months!"
Jinhyuk's grand historical conspiracy musings crashed into cold reality.