The Third Squad Leader Questions the Stranger
Yoo Geumhyeon’s voice trembled slightly as he stared up at the towering peaks of Mount Taesan, their snow-capped crowns piercing the morning sky like frozen blades.
“Are we in the right place?”
Beside him, Gu Jung-ho, the Third Squad Leader of the Cheonhwang Paeundae, stroked the rough beard sprouting from his chin and spoke in a low, military tone.
“This is it. The valley between the seventh and eighth peaks of Mount Taesan. Listen, five men—scout ahead.”
Five squad members sprinted up the narrow mountain path without hesitation. Watching their retreating backs, Gu Jung-ho continued to rub his beard, a faint crease of concern furrowing his brow.
The Demonic Cult had been operating in this hidden corner for quite some time, yet the long years of stealth had left their appearance anything but pristine.
“Hmm… it’s taken longer than I expected, hasn’t it?”
“What can one do? The Heavenly Martial Alliance dogs are glaring at us with bloodshot eyes. We cannot afford to leave any traces.”
“Trace? No one’s being followed?”
Gu Jung-ho’s words carried no real doubt, only a pragmatic shrug. “We cannot say for certain, but everyone knows it would be impossible to reach this place without attracting their attention.”
“But why aren’t they closing in?”
“Perhaps they have not noticed us yet… or they are gathering their strength to strike.”
As the two exchanged glances, one of the returning scouts saluted sharply.
“No anomalies detected. The fields begin right after the mid-point of the path. This must be the location.”
“And the rest?”
“There are traces of another unit at the opposite peak beyond the entrance we came through.”
“Oh, that blasted tongue of yours—speak your mind!” Gu Jung-ho muttered, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “Well, who exactly are they? The Heavenly Martial Alliance, of course?”
Ho Won clicked his tongue repeatedly, but Gu Jung-ho merely let out a soft chuckle.
In truth, the sudden appearance of Murim warriors was not something worthy of surprise. The Cheonhwang Paeundae had long been infamous for their ruthless efficiency.
“Precisely? We cannot be certain, but it is likely them. Approximately fifty men.”
“Fifty? And the others?”
“There are no signs of any in the vicinity.”
“Such a headache…”
Before Gu Jung-ho could offer further concern, Ho Won snapped his fingers and the squad members snapped back into formation. Watching them, Gu Jung-ho murmured to himself.
“Always one step ahead, the Heavenly Martial Alliance. It seems they are moving.”
“A straightforward matter, is it not? Fifty men. They will only interfere with our mission.”
“Our mission is simply to destroy the fields here—not to fight the Heavenly Martial Alliance.”
“True, but… according to the Wanjiao Jiyuan Dui, the number is at least five to ten. Why would they travel all the way here for a mere outing?”
The Wanjiao Jiyuan Dui were the Demonic Cult’s intelligence network, spreading information across the Jianghu and supplying it like a living web.
“Perhaps I was misinformed. Even with ten thousand legs and infinite ears, the Wanjiao Jiyuan Dui cannot know every single matter in the Murim.”
“Hmm… still, it is dangerous.”
“Of course it is. Would you rather they thought we had come for a picnic?”
“That is not what I meant. I am always prepared to fight and perhaps die, but if the situation has changed…”
Ho Won’s words held weight. Gu Jung-ho gave a soft laugh.
“Have you forgotten the order, soldier?”
“…I am sorry.”
Gu Jung-ho had served twenty years in the Cheonhwang Paeundae and had been Third Squad Leader for five. Ho Won had joined only three years ago and had been promoted to Deputy Squad Leader for barely a month.
Of course, Ho Won’s martial prowess was exceptional, yet in the finer details of daily operations he remained noticeably lacking.
“This is a First-Rank Order. If it were Second- or Third-Rank, you would have reported the situation and awaited higher command. However, that option is not available this time. Ho Won, this is the first time you have received a First-Rank Order, is it not?”
“Yes… well, I have handled Second- and Third-Rank before.”
“Second- and Third-Rank are routine. First-Rank is expected to be difficult.”
“I have heard of the severity of First-Rank Orders, yet…”
As if to emphasize his point, preparations were underway.
The Third Squad of the Cheonhwang Paeundae began their slow advance into the mountain path.
“The difficulty of a First-Rank Order does not arise solely from the content of the mission.”
Gu Jung-ho answered Ho Won’s unspoken question. “Have you ever led a First-Rank Order, Squad Leader?”
“This is my third. The first was simple. The second cost us seven-tenths of our squad—yet I became squad leader for it.”
“How is that possible?”
Ho Won’s logic was sound. No matter the difficulty, the Demonic Cult would not send a unit to perish for nothing.
The Demonic Cult was not foolish. If the mission were truly impossible, they would have sent more men. If they sent few and unexpected trouble arose, they would simply withdraw.
No matter how strict they were, the Demonic Cult understood the value of its cultivators. Losing members was a loss to the Cult itself.
Yet First-Rank Orders operated on a different scale entirely.
“A First-Rank Order is difficult because the command is ambiguous. With a Second-Rank Order the goal and means are clear—you push forward. With a First-Rank Order the leader’s interpretation decides everything. At times, even stopping or retreating is not permitted.”
“Such cases are rare.”
“Hah. If that happened, the other units would laugh at us.”
Gu Jung-ho fell silent for a moment, breathing deeply before continuing. “In the end, success rests entirely with the man’s will. The Cult does not need puppets who obey only orders; such men are useless at the critical moment. That is why the treatment is severe.”
“Yet there are those who simply vanished without a trace, acting like thunderous brutes.”
“Of course. They must offer an excuse later if questioned.”
“From what I understand, First-Rank Orders have clear, concrete commands that must be fulfilled. Is that not fundamentally no different from a Second-Rank Order?”
Ho Won asked, puzzled. Gu Jung-ho regarded him with a long, heavy sigh.
“Huuu… the words of someone who has only read books.”
“Wrong? I do not think so. This must be experienced firsthand.”
Gu Jung-ho smiled faintly. “As I said earlier, puppets are useless when their usefulness is required. Do you recall?”
“Yes… perhaps…?”
Ho Won, nodding, suddenly lifted his head. Gu Jung-ho gave a single nod.
“Exactly. Usually it is not so, but sometimes a puppet is precisely what is needed. Do not think of anything else. Focus only on carrying out the mission. Kill your emotions and perform the task. Whether the Heavenly Martial Alliance sends fifty men or a thousand changes nothing. They are not our concern. We are merely tools executing the Lord’s will—nothing more, nothing less. Understood?”
“….”
Ho Won swallowed hard. Until this moment Gu Jung-ho had spoken lightly, but now his tone was heavy, almost solemn.
“Even if it is a First-Rank Order, the content is simply to destroy a farm in these mountains. How difficult could that be?”
Gu Jung-ho’s words made clear that a First-Rank Order was the Lord’s will made manifest—none other than Sa Unsik, the Thousand-Year Dark Demon himself.
When one saw how revered Sa Unsik was in the Demonic Cult, it was no wonder Gu Jung-ho spoke with such gravity.
“What exactly is here that…?”
“You need not concern yourself with the reason. Whether you know or not, the task remains unchanged. Focus solely on performing the mission.”
“…Yes.”
Ho Won’s voice carried a trace of melancholy, yet Gu Jung-ho only smiled gently and patted his shoulder.
“Do not look so grim. The mission has not even begun. Besides, I have said it before: not every First-Rank Order is difficult. It may be easy. I simply wished to remind you how heavy the weight is, separate from the difficulty of the task itself. If this mission succeeds, you will gain a great experience.”
“Yes! I understand!”
Ho Won answered with fervent energy, inspired by the praise.
“The farm has appeared!”
At that moment the vanguard squad member shouted. Gu Jung-ho beckoned the front man over. The mission had truly begun.
“From this moment, anything unnatural in view must be destroyed without mercy as we advance.”
Gu Jung-ho drew his blade. Fiery sparks erupted from the edge. He charged into the orchard below and swung at the base of a peach tree.
*Crack!*
The sword traced a wide arc, cleaving several trees in its path. Qi surged from the blade, slicing through trunks behind them and felling more than twenty in a single stroke.
Gu Jung-ho was still surrounded by countless untouched trees.
“Quickly! Destroy them!”
He swung again, thinking.
*Ideally I would finish before the Heavenly Martial Alliance arrives… but that is probably impossible.*
He had told Ho Won not to worry, yet Gu Jung-ho himself could not stop worrying. After all, such a thing would not happen by chance, and trying not to care was itself a sign of concern.
Even in the Murim the sight of the infamous Cheonhwang Paeundae mowing down trees and grass like weeds would have been comical, yet under a First-Rank Order they were deadly serious.
Around that time, of course, Yoo Eunhyeon—having noticed the commotion—came running at full speed.
This mountain was normally uninhabited, and such disturbances were almost unheard of. Fifty men systematically destroying the forest could not go unnoticed.
“Y-you! What are you doing!?”
Yoo Eunhyeon’s voice was far from pleasant. Crazy people were turning years of hard work into wasteland—how could he stay calm?
His movements marked him as a Murim warrior, yet such details barely registered in his half-maddened state.
The only restraint was his sickle, which he still held firmly.
“Hold.”
Gu Jung-ho raised a hand, stopping the squad. He approached the farmer.
“Are you… Yeo Geumhyeon?”
Gu Jung-ho’s voice remained completely emotionless. Yoo Eunhyeon, seeing such an inhuman figure for the first time, flinched yet nodded.
“Then who are you? Why are you making such a fuss on someone else’s farmland? This field does not belong to you. If you are bandits, at least take what you can and leave. There is no reason to destroy trees and turn the land into a desert!”
Yoo Eunhyeon’s outburst was only natural. Even if they took all the fruit, they would ruin one harvest at most. Destroying the land itself would require years—perhaps decades—to restore.
After all, the fields here had been cultivated by the Yoo family across three generations; it might take decades just to recover.
Gu Jung-ho stared silently at the defiant farmer, then slowly sheathed his blade.
“Secure the target. Do not inflict even a single wound.”
He raised his voice sharply toward his men.
The battle had begun.