The Mountain King's Command
The studio fell silent.
“……”
“……”
That single thought echoed through the minds of the PD, the AD, and every single member of the broadcast team staring at the monitors.
That… actually works?
A ragtag mess.
When the footage first aired and the battle against the goblin horde began, that was the only phrase that could describe the Mir Guild.
Their formation was sloppy, the tankers’ defensive line was crooked, and even that pathetic line couldn’t be held properly. Gaps appeared everywhere, and the whole team flailed in panic.
So was this purely the tanks’ fault?
Maybe the tanks were off their game. Maybe they’d all eaten something bad, or maybe today was just one of those days when everyone’s hands and feet refused to cooperate.
But in those situations, the rest of the team was supposed to stay calm and support them. That was what teammates were for. That was what a team was supposed to be.
Yet the so-called teammates, instead of helping the struggling tanks, seemed to think screw it and started doing the tap dance right alongside them.
A chaotic ballroom dance with a horde of goblins.
It had been absolutely excruciating to watch.
Some of the staff turned their heads away in secondhand embarrassment even though it wasn’t their fight. The PD found himself awkwardly defending the team to the youngest intern, who had let out a mortified “Ah……”
“They’re not usually like this. It’s not normally this bad……”
Hmm.
Correction. Looking back on it calmly, even calling them a ragtag mess felt too generous. It had been an absolute disaster.
Even if you tried to excuse it as first-battle jitters, it had been pretty bad.
And then the battlefield flipped in an instant.
The moment Sanwang Kim Jong-pil took command.
― “From now on, obey my orders without question.”
The tide of battle turned one hundred and eighty degrees.
The sloppy formation, the chaotic atmosphere, even the team’s mindset—everything snapped into perfect order in a single breath.
The pathetic, trash-like raiders transformed into elite soldiers.
Every swing of a blade now carried killing intent. The previously scattered magic gained precision and structure.
These were people who had shown nothing but flaws until now, but the second Sanwang painted his color over them, their hidden strengths exploded outward.
It was a truly dramatic change.
Sanwang hadn’t even used any special ability. He had simply opened his mouth. He had simply given commands.
And that was enough to change everything this much?
At that moment, both the PD and several others remembered Sanwang’s bold declaration.
― “Until we reach League 1, I promise not to step onto the front lines.”
Honestly, they had thought it was arrogant.
What kind of people were Koreans? A fighting people.
Among all the world’s Guild War Leagues, the one considered the most fiercely competitive was none other than Korea’s GWL Korea.
In a league like that, you should be grabbing people by the collar and carrying them if necessary, yet he was stepping back from the front lines? And on top of that, he had filled the entire squad with second-hand rookies and unproven prospects?
No matter how legendary Sanwang’s command was said to be, anyone with eyes could see that his past success had only been possible because the Kirin Guild had supplied him with an outstanding roster.
What exactly did he think he could do with such a weak lineup?
Especially when he had sealed away his own combat power and could only provide buffs and crowd control.
──That had been everyone’s thought just a few minutes ago.
The PD, the AD, the youngest intern, and even Chae Dong-ha sitting over there—all of them had been filled with doubt.
The only person in the room who showed zero doubt was one man.
Lee Shin. Only him.
“Huh? Why is everyone so surprised? That’s Sanwang. This much is obvious.”
Lee Shin knew that people considered Sanwang’s declaration arrogant.
But in his eyes, their clumsy judgment was far more arrogant.
Who the hell are you to doubt the command of the SSS-grade Sanwang that I personally picked? Do you know this world better than I do?
This wasn’t some lukewarm feeling like belief or trust.
It was certainty.
His certainty in Sanwang was no ordinary certainty.
It was certainty built on twenty years of loving this world more than anyone else—certainty in his own veteran career.
It was Lee Shin’s life. His one and only truth.
“It’ll start wrapping up soon.”
The moment those words left Lee Shin’s mouth, the battle on screen reached its climax.
― “Cease attack. Tanks, plant your shields and lower your stance.”
The tanks slammed their tower shields into the ground in unison.
The instant they crouched low, explosions erupted from above. It was the same suicide bombers from before.
― “Melee dealers, advance. Go wild for five seconds.”
The shields tilted open, and three close-range dealers burst forward.
Swords crashed down. Spears whipped through the air. Daggers danced, and fists crushed the goblins’ thin jaws.
One second. Two seconds… Exactly five seconds.
The moment they retreated, the ground suddenly gave way.
The trap they had been preparing was completely destroyed.
The entire battle looked like a puppet show.
When Sanwang said right, they went right. When he said left, they went left. When he ordered a retreat, the goblins used a difficult pattern. When he ordered pressure, that spot turned out to be the critical point.
To some of the broadcast team, it looked like this:
Doesn’t it seem like he already knows what’s going to happen?
A chill ran down several spines.
That was when Lee Shin spoke casually.
“Overwhelming vision and multitasking using hundreds of spirits. A phenomenal brain capable of reading the patterns of every existing monster.”
“Sanwang’s command dominates the battlefield itself.”
The goblin horde that had been completely helpless was visibly shrinking.
Nearly three hundred goblins had covered the ground. Half of them had already become fertilizer, and another half were now rolling on the dirt as corpses.
Time to end it.
Kim Jong-pil made the call, and that decision became reality.
A wind spirit appeared in the enemy camp and fluttered its wings. With a cute flap that seemed to say ‘Over here~!’, it marked the target.
The instant it did, magic erupted from the raid team’s formation.
Fire Wall.
The moment a massive wall of flames rose, the supporters who had been in charge of healing and buffs poured their mana into a magic circle they had prepared in advance.
A milky-white web of mana lines spread out from the center like a spiderweb.
Waves of Wind.
The wind surged like ocean waves, crashing toward the goblin horde.
Its destructive power was weak compared to an original magic dealer, but that had never been the intention.
What mattered was its wide range that could cover the entire battlefield and its wind attribute that created perfect synergy with fire.
Yes. This ‘Wave of Wind’ was—
Whoosh—!!
……fuel for the Fire Wall.
Flames rode the wind, and the wave of wind instantly became a wave of fire.
The sea of flames rolled across the battlefield in an overwhelming surge, swallowing the goblin formation whole.
“Kiiiieeeeek—!!”
Agonized screams erupted from the goblins.
The panicked creatures twisted and convulsed madly as their bodies burned.
In truth, the battle was already over at that moment.
― “A gift. Time to pay them back, right?”
As if to make up for the disgrace of struggling against mere goblins just moments ago, he provoked the raid team.
― “Everyone, charge.”
Flashes of light burst through the flames, and the burning goblins’ blood and body parts exploded in every direction.
Highly refined command was indistinguishable from a miracle.
A miracle.
Yes. The raid team had just witnessed a miracle. So had the broadcast team.
“This is going to be fun when it airs, don’t you think?”
At Lee Shin’s bright, spinning smile, Chae Dong-ha could only nod.
What more was there to say?
* * *
Every year when the league began, each guild hung up a slogan at their main gate.
We will achieve better results than before!
It was a declaration of ambitious goals, and the fans were the ones who clung to those blueprints and cheered with everything they had.
Of course, the Mir Guild had something similar.
Forget last year’s disappointing results! A new Mir is here!
──That was the intended meaning, but in reality it was closer to a desperate plea of ‘This year really will be different, so please don’t leave us T_T.’
The Yongbung fans hated that phrase.
No, they loathed it. Some even treated it as a curse.
This guild had failed for a very long time.
Ever since its founding, it had walked a path of constant decline. Whenever it seemed to improve, it would collapse again.
And every single time, without fail, they would put up [This Year Will Be Different!]. After watching this farce for anywhere from one to five years—or in the worst cases, twenty to thirty years—how could the Yongbung fans possibly feel?
This year will be different? Yeah right. What’s different?
Oh, it did change. It got even worse.
By the time the league ended, the Yongbung fans all shared the same thought.
If I cheer for this hopeless bastard guild again, I’m not even human!
The slogan that shattered their resolve and turned them into cheering dogs barking ‘I’m not human, woof woof!’ was none other than [This Year Will Be Different!]. If that wasn’t a curse, what was?
That was why Park Seong-cheol found the current scene even harder to believe.
What he was watching right now…
Was this really their guild?
The raid team stood firm with shields raised, playing perfect defense.
They had taken the high ground on the hillside, secured the advantage of elevation, and even erected barricades on both sides with earth magic to create a fortress.
From positioning to formation completion—everything was flawless.
Honestly, Park Seong-cheol’s jaw had already hit the floor by this point.
What the hell is this! Why are they so good? Why is it so perfect?!
But the Mir raid team seemed to mock his shock with an expression that said ‘You’re surprised by just this?’ and launched a counterattack.
Perfect positioning.
Perfect formation shifts.
And a perfect counter!
The goblins on screen were crushed. Pulverized. Trampled beneath the Mir war chariot.
“Yeah, yeah, exactly! Exactly!”
The Yongbung fans, who had been politely asking about their parents’ well-being and wondering where they lived just moments ago, flipped their attitude at light speed.
It had only been a short while since they were shedding tears of joy, praising Sanwang, and worshipping Lee Shin for recruiting him.
But regardless of that, many people had still looked at the Mir Guild with unease.
Setting everything else aside, just as the commentator said, the squad really was far too weak. Second-hand rookies and prospects only…
“Even I, who has cheered for this damn failing guild for twenty years, have never seen a squad this weak.”
The only thing they could truly believe in was Sanwang.
In reality, Sanwang was supposed to grab them by the collar and carry the entire team.
But then—wait, what? Sanwang made a promise not to step forward?!
Hey, Mr. Sanwang, what the hell does that mean?! Lee Shin, you explain it!
Now that it was all over, he could admit it.
He had been anxious. Extremely anxious. He had even posted desperate complaints (which were really just harsh curses) on Lee Shin’s SNS.
And he wasn’t the only one. All ten million Yongbung fans had trembled with anxiety.
The anxiety had been so severe that Lee Shin’s SNS had nearly crashed from the flood of “advice” (which were actually extremely harsh curses).
It felt like the stench of failure was slowly creeping up from deep inside their hearts.
The rotten smell of defeat that had tormented the Yongbung fans for twenty years.
But all that anxiety—
—had been unfounded.
The Mir Guild. No, we.
Were far more magnificent than anyone had imagined.
“This year is different…… This year is different……”
His whole body was trembling!
It was rising. That feeling of pure hype was surging up!
At this moment, right after the first broadcast ended, Park Seong-cheol could confidently speak on behalf of all ten million Yongbung fans.
― Sanwang is a god and Lee Shin is invincible!