To the East (2)
The journey was no mere march.
It was, of course, training on the move.
“Hah… hah…!”
A metallic rasp tore from Hwang Dae-un’s throat. Two packs that looked well over fifty kilos each rode his back. The others were no different. Everyone had adjusted the weight to their own stamina, yet every one of them poured sweat just the same.
Even then, Hyun Si-woon kept up a running stream of corrections.
“Dae-un, straighten your back more.”
“Hah… Yes, hyung-nim!”
“The foundation of footwork is an unshakable center. Every time your foot hits the ground, think of sinking roots.”
Of course those words were not his own.
Tsk tsk. Look at them, using the System’s power yet still sweating buckets under a load this light.
He was only relaying the voice from above—Ha-wol’s—softened just a fraction.
You keep concentrating too, brat! Do you even know why the Moon Spirit Divine Art is broken? Because you can circulate energy while you walk, just like this! Other people have to slave away for hours before bed; you can pull that work forward and do it on the road!
In the martial world, the realm of stillness within motion—operating heart-method while unfolding footwork—was said to be something only a peak master who had founded his own school could even approach. That a novice like Hyun Si-woon could imitate it at all was proof of how extraordinary Ha-wol’s martial arts truly were.
Their progress was inevitably slow. They trained as they traveled, and more than anything, there were the beasts.
The farther they left the Tower’s sphere of influence, the rougher the world became. Ruined buildings littered the landscape; traces of survivors vanished. Beasts appeared with noticeably greater frequency.
Ordinary eighth- and ninth-rank beasts no longer posed any real threat. They did not even need to form ranks; each person simply dealt with whatever came their way as an extension of training.
The problem was the occasional yellow-glowing seventh-rank beast—the same kind as the Burst Ghoul they had hunted before. Whenever one appeared, every drill stopped and the hunt took over.
“Everyone halt. Rotten Marauder. Yeon-ho hyung, front!”
“Okay.”
Seventh-ranks were troublesome precisely because they were the beasts that appeared on the Tower’s fourth floor. But Hyun Si-woon was stagnant water deep enough to take two Burst Ghouls at once. Under his command the members moved with fluid precision.
“Dae-un, Cha-yul noona—spread left and right.”
“Yes!”
“Got it!”
Baek Yeon-ho pulled aggro head-on while damage poured in from both flanks. The moment the marauder threw its head back in pain—
Thwip!
A silver flash streaked from far away, punched clean through the soft palate, and skewered the brain. Kang Si-a. The unique bow’s power punched through even a seventh-rank’s tough hide with ease.
7th-rank beast, Rotten Marauder, eliminated.
Reward calculated by contribution has arrived.
12 TC acquired.
A mere twelve Tower Coins. Because Kang Si-a had delivered the finishing blow, most of the reward would have gone to her. Hyun Si-woon only glanced at the floating messages and dismissed them. Individual TC no longer meant much to them.
Before departure they had already set the rules. Every TC earned in combat was collected each night by the leader, Hyun Si-woon, and managed as the climbing party’s common fund. Essentials that directly affected the team’s survival—food, necessities—were bought with that money. Personal gear upgrades or special requests would be discussed later and distributed fairly. Thanks to the system, petty competition over last hits or who received more never arose among them. Only the team’s victory mattered.
“Huu.”
The fight ended anticlimactically. They caught their breath for a moment, then set off eastward again in silence.
By the time they reached the outer edge of Gangdong-gu, the sun was already sliding west.
“….”
Hyun Si-woon swept his gaze around, reading the surroundings. Remnants of a collapsed overpass, rusted cars. Vines were already beginning to climb the outer walls of a large apartment complex. Naturally the streets were empty.
Ssssss…
Only the desolate wind whispered. Now and then a hint of human presence seemed to stir beyond a shattered apartment window.
Survivors, probably.
People like his past self, clutching the last can of food. He understood their terror and despair perfectly. Yet he shook his head. He could not save them. No—the very idea of saving them was arrogance and hypocrisy. He could neither take responsibility for thousands, perhaps tens of thousands, nor did he have the time. Hyun Si-woon was no savior, no saint. The safety of himself and his team outweighed any grand sense of mission.
“We’ll camp around here for today.”
He chose the rooftop of a relatively intact five-story commercial building as their temporary billet. It offered a clear view in every direction, and sealing the single stairwell made defense simple.
They dropped their packs and divided roles with practiced ease. Dinner was simple: combat rations heated over solid fuel and a few cans of food. Days without a proper wash left everyone sticky, yet no one complained.
After the meal came roughly two hours of energy circulation.
Tell them to sit in lotus position at once. Those who have not learned the Moon Spirit Divine Art still need to circulate on their own. They wasted energy stumbling around all day; now they must replenish it and purify their turbid minds and bodies. If they neglect even this time, they will have no future.
Everyone settled into lotus posture. Hyun Si-woon likewise took his place and began circulating the Moon Spirit Divine Art.
“Sss… huuuu.”
Only the steady rhythm of breathing rolled softly across the quiet rooftop. The sensation was different from the walking circulation he had practiced during the day. The end of the day. After two hours their bodies felt unmistakably lighter—though the mental fatigue remained.
“Watch will be two-hour shifts in pairs. First shift: me and Yeon-ho hyung. Next, Dae-un and Cha-yul noona. Last, Si-a and Do-hee noona.”
No one needed to feel cheated about the middle slot; the order rotated every day anyway. Time passed. Hyun Si-woon closed his eyes and slipped into sleep.
When the cold of dawn lay thick upon the world—
“Oppa.”
Someone shook his shoulder. He opened his eyes. Kang Si-a, on the final watch. Her usual composure was edged with suppressed excitement.
“Mm?”
“Wake up and look over there.”
“What is it?”
Still half-asleep, he pushed himself up and turned toward the direction she indicated. In that instant every trace of drowsiness vanished.
“……!”
Far to the east, beyond the dark blue mountain range where night still clung, a strange phenomenon was unfolding in one point of the sky. Blue light. As if a colossal fluorescent tube had been stood upright against the heavens, a silent, mysterious pillar of blue light was rising without a sound into the night sky.
“The blue pillar you mentioned during the day… it was real…”
“Good. Mark the position against the terrain.”
“Yes.”
“From here it looks roughly like Gangwon Province…”
“It does.”
Kang Si-a nodded and climbed onto the rooftop railing. Baek Do-hee, who had been staring open-mouthed beside her, tilted her head.
“Si-a, what are you doing?”
“Trying to get a rough fix on where that is.”
She narrowed her eyes and held her breath. The faint contours of the land under moonlight, the rise and fall of the ridges, and that distant pillar of light…
First, direction.
Using the North Star as reference, it sat just a little north of due east.
Next, distance.
Judging by the mountain ranges, it lay much deeper inland. Hmm… at that range, wouldn’t they almost have to reach the eastern edge of the country?
“It seems to be behind the most rugged mountain range we can see.”
“Probably near the Taebaek Mountains.”
A low voice made Kang Si-a turn. Baek Do-hee had come up beside her. Instead of relying on pure sense the way Si-a did, she was combing through memories etched in her mind.
“That ridge… looks familiar. I used to fly over it a lot by helicopter.”
Baek Do-hee’s eyes grew distant. The rugged mountain folds she had crossed as a nursing officer aboard medevac birds.
“Eh? Nursing officers ride helicopters that often?”
“Yeah. I was with a MedOn unit.”
“……MedOn?”
“There is such a thing.”
Baek Do-hee gave a small smile. The medical evacuation aviation unit under the Army Aviation Command. In simple terms, a flying emergency room. When critical patients appeared in forward areas or mountain terrain too difficult for ground access, they flew in by helicopter, performed field treatment, and evacuated. Even as a junior nursing officer she had drilled map reading and land navigation until she was sick of them.
“Our first waypoint could be set toward Wonju, I think.”
“Really? Why?”
Hyun Si-woon asked. She unfolded the map she had bought earlier with TC and explained in detail.
“Look at the terrain. That first big mountain chain you can see is the ridge toward Namhansanseong. Behind it, faintly, is the Yongmunsan range in Yangpyeong… and the mountain sitting right in front of that light pillar is probably Chiaksan or something beyond it. Chiaksan is in Wonju, so heading there first and checking again should be more accurate.”
Huh. Hyun Si-woon was impressed. The analysis was concrete and logical. He had planned to raise her purely as a healer—yet she had this kind of skill?
Still…
The pillar was farther than he had expected. Who knew what beasts lurked in that region, and getting back to the Tower afterward would be a grind… Ah, screw it. Once they decided to check it out, they had to go all the way.
“All right. From tomorrow we head toward Wonju.”
The destination was set.
The straight-line distance from Gangdong-gu in Seoul to the entrance of Chiaksan in Wonju was roughly eighty kilometers. But in a ruined world the numbers on a map meant nothing. Collapsed bridges, roads choked with abandoned cars, tunnels turned into beast nests—all forced them onto longer, rougher paths. Hyun Si-woon estimated the journey across mountains and fields would take at least ten days.
His prediction proved exact. Time crawled through the harsh trek, yet none of it was wasted. Day by day their climbing party was transforming into a single organism. Even without Hyun Si-woon’s detailed orders they could now read the next move from one another’s eyes and gestures alone. When Kang Si-a sensed danger from afar and signaled, Baek Yeon-ho and Hwang Dae-un raised shield and mace without the slightest hesitation and locked into a defensive formation. Jang Cha-yul slid along the terrain like a serpent, already poised to strike the enemy’s flank. Baek Do-hee watched every teammate’s condition, balancing combat and recovery.
At this level the fourth floor should be no problem.
And finally, on the afternoon of the eighth day, a weathered sign reading “Wonju City,” reduced to little more than a skeletal frame, entered their sight.
“Hwaaah! Finally!”
“Wonjuuuu…!”
They could not shout too loudly, yet soft exclamations still escaped.
“……I can’t even remember how many days it’s been since I last washed.”
Jang Cha-yul muttered while yanking her tangled hair into a tight knot.
“Same here, noona. I want meat—cooked meat. Not these dry cans.”
Hwang Dae-un tossed an empty tin to the ground and smacked his lips. The taste of civilization, warm water, a soft bed… they missed them all.
“But would any survivors still be left in a place like this?”
Baek Do-hee murmured—and in that same instant—
“Shh!”
Kang Si-a, scouting ahead, froze dead and clenched a fist toward the rest of them. Halt. And stay alert. Something had caught her exceptional hearing. Everyone dropped low by reflex and held their breath. At first it seemed only the desolate wind. But when they strained their senses, the sound came clear.
“Save me! S-someone please save me!”
A child’s voice.
People?
Here?
Hyun Si-woon’s eyes flashed cold.