275. Those Who Break the Walls

Clang— The moment his sword shattered.

Even as his body flew through the air, Cheol Sunjik couldn't tear his gaze away. That man was undoubtedly a disciple of Tae-eul Gate, wielding swift sword and illusory blade. Yet from his hand unfolded the Azure Bamboo Sword Technique of the Jade Smoke Room.

"How...?"

Jin Sowoon, utterly exhausted, twisted his lips into a smirk.

"Forgot I have a perfect memory?"

"Even so..."

Moreover, the Azure Bamboo Sword Technique he used was Sunjik's own unique style—one he'd layered and refined over countless years. Yet Jin Sowoon had replicated it perfectly after seeing it just once.

And then he said leisurely,

"You have your own way of fighting. I have mine."

"Ha...!"

As the massive shock faded, frustration surged in its place. In the end, it was his defeat. His plan, which had seemed certain victory, had failed. Jin Sowoon's, which had screamed defeat, had triumphed.

Grasping the reality, a surge of injustice welled up. Why had he lost?

Cheol Sunjik's eyes turned to the figures standing near Jin Sowoon. His comrades, who had faithfully followed the mad order to charge straight into the heart of the enemy lines. Some were wounded, others barely holding themselves upright on the verge of collapse. Anyone else would have surrendered long ago, hands and weapons dropped. But not one had let go of their weapon.

In contrast, most of his own White Mountain unit stood unharmed. Meaning few had truly followed his plan.

"How can there be such a difference?"

"......"

Cheol Sunjik's gaze shifted to Nam Hwaseong. Under that gaze filled with resentment, Nam Hwaseong turned his head away.

Gnashing his teeth, Cheol Sunjik muttered to himself.

"Why can you all unite like that?"

Jin Sowoon and he weren't so different. Lacking backgrounds, gifted minds, wills unbowed by pressure. Both clawing their way up from the bottom.

Yet his comrades feared not plunging into death with him. The daughter of Iron Sword Sect, once Tae-eul Gate's enemy. The pampered youngest of Namgung family. Even the disciple of Three Moon Sect, his rival in the rankings.

It was incomprehensible.

"Why do only you show this kind of loyalty!"

Share benefits, create common enemies. He and Jin Sowoon had done the same, yet yielded different results.

He'd never resented being born in the same era as Yong So-a, the Taecheong Sword Immortal, or Dang Seohui. They wielded different weapons, after all.

But Jin Sowoon? He harbored the deepest grudge for sharing an era with him. For he felt like an insurmountable wall.

"Answer me! Jin Sowoon! Why this difference!"

To his outburst, Jin Sowoon merely rose silently, as if at a loss for words.

"Why... why..."

Finally, tears streamed from Cheol Sunjik's eyes. He, who had never cried from frustration, now wept at this suffocating defeat.

And then.

"...Not... not over yet. Sunjik-ah..."

Cheol Hyeonjik, who had collapsed unconscious, rose leaning on his sword.

"Brother..."

His trembling arms barely lifted the sword as he staggered toward Jin Sowoon.

"...I'll... I'll complete your plan for you."

"Brother...!"

Lacking even the strength to hold it properly, he dragged the blade along the ground as he charged. Jin Sowoon, watching with impassive eyes, unleashed the Cartoon Invincible Fist.

Pow-pow-pow-pow-pow!

"Brother!!!"

To Cheol Sunjik, still dazed by the sight, Jin Sowoon spoke.

"You have someone who follows your will too."

"......"

"Think hard about the difference between your brother and the Twelve Peaks. You'll find why you lost this battle."

With that, Jin Sowoon turned without hesitation. In his hand was now a flag, raised high into the sky.

Soon, the Red Army's banner pierced the White Army's camp.

"Waaaaah!"

"Waaaaah! We won!"

"We've taken the White camp!"

As the few survivors cheered, Cheol Sunjik said with a hardened expression.

"But this is the end for you."

"......"

"Your unit's all but wiped out taking ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the White camp."

Cheol Sunjik sneered, eyeing Jin Sowoon's people.

"Maybe we're different, as you say. But... my plan still succeeded. Two of your representatives—Seong Moran and Geum Pyo—will lag behind and get dropped."

He raised his wounded hand, cut by sword shards, and continued.

"See? The Blue Army, who conserved forces by just watching, will swoop in as fishermen and claim final victory."

"......"

"You couldn't surpass this wall called me. Hahaha!"

Jin Sowoon shrugged at the Blue Army Cheol Sunjik pointed to.

"Perfect."

"Huh?"

Grinning, Jin Sowoon nodded toward the front.

"Look closely."

"......"

Cheol Sunjik's forced smile froze. His tone sounded as if stating the obvious.

"How far we'll climb."

His comrades moved as if it were the most natural thing.

Following Jin Sowoon's gaze, Cheol Sunjik turned too. His scant remaining troops—like sword shards—began stepping forward one by one. Exhausted from brutal battle, on the brink of collapse. Yet they gathered at Jin Sowoon's side as if it were nothing.

Cheol Sunjik couldn't look away.

#

"You okay?"

Geum Pyo's face twisted. As if you need to ask.

"Feels like I'm gonna drop dead."

"Same."

A sigh escaped. This is unbearable. Wait, why was I even holding back...?

Thwack.

I smacked the back of Geum Pyo's head.

"Serves you right for getting three Wu evaluations!"

"......"

Geum Pyo hung his head like a criminal. Seong Moran, across from us, reacted sharply.

"Young Master Jin, was that meant for me to hear?"

I replied politely.

"Of course."

"......"

Seong Moran's face stiffened, hurt.

I turned to them both, firm.

"I won't let you two get dropped. So we cannot lose this."

Seong Moran's expression softened a bit, nodding.

"But the opponent's that bald... I mean, Ilgak."

The best plan would've been conserving strength while Blue and White fought, then Red hitting the drained Blue victor. But fate twisted it so.

How could it get this bad?

I knew that damn monk would drag me down someday.

I scanned the remaining troops quietly.

"We can't just back down, right?"

Soon, instructors waved red flags. Evaluation ending soon. Blue and remaining Red had no choice but all-out war.

I gripped my sword again.

"Prepare sword formation."

"Yes!"

They moved in perfect order. It was all we could do now.

"Forget they're Shaolin or Nine Great Clans. They're just the enemy."

"Young Master Jin, you know telling us not to think makes us think more?"

"Just erase it. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠No other way."

"......"

Just do as told. Overthink in battle, and you're dead.

"Survival or attack. Focus on one thing. I'll handle the rest as commander. Just follow."

"Trust only you in this mess?"

"Got another option?"

Seong Moran pondered, then shook her head.

"...No. But if I lag, put me in your unit when I'm a low-rank Murim Alliance warrior later. Hate taking orders from others."

"Promise."

The Blue Army approaching initial Red had halted as White-Red battle intensified. Having finished internal rankings and preserved most numbers, Blue was barely changed.

"Amitabha."

Ilgak approached, leading at least ten times our numbers. That damn bald head was Blue's leader, as expected. Natural, really?

"Hey, studying Buddha but acting sneaky?"

Ilgak smiled brightly, unaffected.

"Buddha said if you stand properly in yourself, evil ones fall away naturally."

That oily tongue. Secretly eating meat?

"Too petty for that."

"Buddha also said, 'One who covers past evil karma with good deeds shines like the moon through clouds.' I've covered mine, so I'm renewed."

"Easy to reinvent yourself."

Ilgak smiled slyly.

"Benefactor Jin, you look spent. Why not forfeit?"

"And you, monk? Can't forfeit out of Buddha's mercy for us laggers?"

"Not Buddha's true will. Namu Amitabha."

Should've memorized sutras. Might've made the bald guy back off mumbling.

"Doesn't sit right. Guess that's why I'm no Buddhist disciple."

"Buddha's in your heart too, no worry. Plus, Black Maitreya..."

"Hey!!!"

"Ahem."

Clearing his throat, Ilgak asked again.

"Really continuing?"

"Buddha say otherwise?"

I drew the Black Dragon Sword.

"Be your own light."

Ilgak grinned.

"See? Buddha's in your heart."

I grinned back.

"Let's see whose side Buddha takes!"

This time, I stood at the front with Geum Pyo instead of Nam Hwaseong.

#

Cheol ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Sunjik never looked away, not once. Not just physical limits, but to burn Jin Sowoon's end into his eyes.

"You'll fail too."

Like I did.

He clung to his exhausted body. Blue's final win mattered little in his plan. Only dropping Jin Sowoon's squad.

Ideally, after dropping him, White loses to Blue too.

So, Jin Sowoon, you too.

"You'll... surely fail..."

Muttering, Blue and Red clashed. Ten-to-one numbers built encirclement. Encirclement exhausts, leads to annihilation.

"Surely..."

But why? Jin Sowoon's unit wouldn't fall easily.

"How..."

Their formation: standard White Tiger Sword Formation every academy student knew. Nothing special without qi. Yet they endured stubbornly.

"How..."

No—slightly different. Covering each other's gaps, creating counter moments, shaking foes. Like designed for weaklings to complement—faithful to basics.

"Heh..."

Neither Shaolin fists nor Nine Clans arts broke through. Blue reserves from Green Mountain couldn't wait, climbing White one by one. Blue numbers around Jin Sowoon swelled.

"Impossible..."

Yet doubt crept. Victory impossible for Jin Sowoon anyway. Couldn't reach Blue camp with so few, nor break encirclement.

Still, he and his fought on, as if they could win.

"No way."

Ilgak's Blues pressed mercilessly. Finally, one Red fell; formation wobbled. Full resistance, but once disrupted, it didn't recover.

Flutter, flutter!

Instructors waved black flags. End imminent. Blues, seeing it, charged to finish.

Cheol Sunjik's lips twisted up.

"Yes, this is their limit."

His plan half-succeeded despite failure. Jin Sowoon exhausted, most squad scattered.

Like him, Jin Sowoon failed. Satisfied, about to mock—

Scattered?

His eyes darted. Gone. They're gone!

Some of Jin Sowoon's squad missing. Checked whole White Mountain—no sign.

Then.

"Waaaaah!"

Twenty Reds charged madly up Green Mountain.

"B-block them!"

"Kwaaak!"

"Outta the way, bastards!"

No stopping, no fighting. Just forward. Abandon fallen comrades, dodge enemy fists without ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠engaging, straight to Green peak.

And in a blink—fewer than ten Reds planted the flag in Blue camp.

"Waaaaaaaah!"

"Waaaaaaaah!"

"Waaaaah!"

Cheers echoed from distant Green. Eunho, Yaryul Geuk, and about ten Reds had struck.

"......"

Blue defenders' dazed faces showed no prediction of raid.

Cheol Sunjik shuddered like struck by lightning.

Defeat never in mind from start?

Elsewise, detaching men mid-disaster for ambush? Impossible.

He turned to the mountain that crushed him again. Jin Sowoon, casually biting the shiny monk's head while Ilgak hung limp-mouthed on his shoulder.

"Gak...! Ugh, damn!! Ptoo-ptoo!"

Blasphemously chomping the monk's gleaming pate without hesitation.

"What... are you..."

More despair than facing Yong So-a. He couldn't look away.