Life-or-Death (3)
“Hold on! Why are we heading this way?”
Look at this guy. Still talking all casual.
“Captain.”
“……Why are we going this way, Captain……sir? This is……the opposite direction from the entrance, isn’t it?”
I answered Go A-ryeom, the former Kunlun Sect disciple who’d become a member of the Il-dae unit.
“The exit isn’t only on the east side.”
It was the most natural assumption—that the path in was the path out. That’s the route the escapees from the cavern had chosen, after all.
“……Then where are we going?”
“Naturally, west.”
“……W-West?”
“Yeah.”
“But that’s…….”
“Right. The Demon Realm.”
One question had nagged at me while devising the strategy: Why go to all this trouble?
Their goal was our annihilation—that much was certain. But why this convoluted method? There were far more efficient, effective ways.
They didn’t need to rely on trivial curses from spirits. As mad beasts of the battlefield, they could’ve charged like man-eating demons without a care for front or back.
Yet they hadn’t.
The answer was surprisingly simple: spirit veins.
They’d hidden themselves until we gathered at the camp’s center.
They’d herded survivors into the camp.
The killing intent in this heaven-and-earth net was weaker than their usual one.
All for the same reason. Even they couldn’t fully escape the flow of the spirit veins.
No—perhaps the spirit vein energy clashed directly with the unique demonic qi they exuded.
Once you assumed that, everything clicked into place.
The demon beasts hadn’t attacked until they sensed a threat to themselves.
They’d deployed the lightly demonic Ak-mara-rangdan despite having a full extermination plan.
It all fit perfectly.
That’s why we were heading to the Demon Realm.
Our path would grow harsher, more grueling—but theirs would too.
To attack us, they’d have to tangle with the demon beasts themselves.
This was my first handful of ash to ruin their feast.
“D-Demon beast!”
We hadn’t even reached the Demonic Cult’s encirclement yet, but we ran into one pickled in killing intent from within.
“Its e-eyes are bloodshot?”
Whether from prolonged exposure fraying its nerves or poison, the Dokgak Sinsa charged us on sight.
Bam-bam-bam!
Boom-boom!
Thanks to grouping our strongest in destructive power and internal energy, the Dokgak Sinsa was obliterated without a single bone left—but wasteful responses like that drew no praise.
“You think we’re fighting just for today and tomorrow?! Pace yourselves!”
The real enemy wasn’t demon beasts. And pulverizing them beyond recognition like this? Half the Il-dae wouldn’t be standing by nightfall if we kept wasting qi.
“No breaks in between. No time to sleep or circulate qi for at least three days.”
“Got it!”
The crisp, disciplined response came back. They’d finally grasped their dire straits.
“……”
We just ran.
When demon beasts appeared, we fought—syncing our movements one by one in the process.
The reason I’d beaten academy student hierarchy into them from the start? To form an assault formation.
The assault formation used in the late stages of the Upright-Demonic Great War.
Not some politically assembled unit.
A formation for those who truly fought—and truly escaped.
And the core of this escape strategy? Minimize losses, maximize survivors.
Thus, I issued one absolute command.
Never stop your feet.
Even against enemies. If you couldn’t kill them, leave them and run. The rear would handle it.
That’s what the formation was for. That’s why we’d organized this way.
No telling how many would die. Even in my past life, I’d never led such greenhorns into a unit like this.
Still, I trusted them.
They were the elites of every sect.
If they lived up to their arrogance, we could escape with minimal sacrifices.
How far had we run?
Ilgak, drenched in demon beast blood, urgently called to me.
“Jin patron!!”
Captain, I said.
I looked up, and Demonic Cult grunts flickered in the forest depths.
“All units, battle prep!!!”
Not just the path-clearing Il-dae, but every unit drew weapons.
“Charge!!!”
At my shout, Sam-dae and Sa-dae took left and right wings.
Unlike the evenly skilled Il-dae, Sam and Sa were one-hit-kill specialists—the arrowhead piercing the encirclement.
Clang-clatter.
Boom! Boom!
Eardrum-shattering blasts as the two units clashed.
The academy students’ first large-scale battle. Casualties mounted swiftly, as expected.
“Kaaak!”
“Gurk!”
In normal sparring, you’d start with ritual forms, feints to gauge foes.
But.
“Kgh!”
Fail to break that habit, and you won’t survive the battlefield.
One strike, one kill!
Snatch their life in that first move. Or they’d take yours next.
‘I drilled that into them over and over……!’
Lifelong habits don’t vanish easily. Especially amid swarms of foes.
Maintaining reason wasn’t easy.
‘Gotta conserve qi.’
No time for long calculations. Mounting losses meant plummeting survival odds.
Rumble-rumble.
Uncontainable vibrations writhed in my grip.
“Snap out of it, you bastards!”
I spat curses and unleashed Radiant Heaven Divine Palm.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-boom!
A momentary breach opened—but like water refilling a basin, Demonic Cult grunts surged to plug it.
“Ditch the feints! One strike, one kill! Fail this, and we all die here!”
“Pierce!”
“Push!!”
The awakened Sam and Sa-dae members bellowed.
Support O and Yuk-dae filled the fallen spots.
Thus, Sahwal-dan became a single arrow, shoving through the net.
I swung Socheon Sword Technique.
Like in my past life.
Mindlessly.
With one burning will to survive.
But one difference.
The results.
Past life’s Socheon had barely blocked demonic blades.
Slash! Slash! Slash! Slash!
Now, it cleaved demons with sword aura.
Not drenched in my comrades’ blood.
But filthy demonic blood.
One step.
Another.
Forward.
Unlike past life’s endless retreats.
And for the first time, I realized.
Backward swings always felled comrades.
Forward swings? Only enemies.
“Chaaarge!!!”
I roared out the storm of emotions ready to burst.
Gaps appeared in the vine-thick, iron-wall foes.
Mukrim’s landscape faintly emerged through the dense thicket.
“Chaaarge!!!”
A glance back: Nam Hwaseong, blood-soaked like a bear, bellowed.
The I-dae crew, already united, echoed him in unison.
“Charge!!!”
“Gaza!!!”
“Kill!!!”
Il-dae and I-dae shoved forward together.
The arrowhead sharpened; the net wavered.
And.
“They’re falling baaack!!!!”
“Chaaarge!!!”
Finally, they retreated.
I maxed Tae-eul Divine Scripture, unleashing Ten Thousand Swords of Heaven and Earth.
Six myriad swords formed; Twin Heaven Sword Conclusion swept all directions in a massive storm.
Ku-ka-ka-ka-clang!
Sensing crisis, they broke formation, spewing hidden demonic qi wildly.
Kwa-boom! Kwa-boom! Kwa-boom!
Myriad swords clashed with demonic qi in chain explosions, followed by Ilgak’s Great Victory Prajna Divine Art filling the area with blasts and radiance.
Then Il-dae unleashed their ultimate techniques in sequence.
Bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-bam-boom!
Like thunderbolts ravaging, the area was scorched.
Demonic Cultists too slow to retreat got fully swept; a hole tore in the net.
“Run!!!”
The tiny gap widened as Sam and Sa-dae cleared surroundings.
By the time foes shook off blast aftereffects, O-dae and the rest struck, breaking free.
“Hah! Hah! Hah! Hah!”
“Kgh! Hah……”
Breath scorched our throats; hot gasps escaped.
First time in this hell for them all.
Many utterly drained.
Staggering feats had burned massive stamina.
But no stopping.
Stopping meant re-encirclement.
We’d shaken the killing net—for now. Gratitude enough.
I recalled the one absolute command.
“Demon Realm! To the Demon Realm! Then we slow!”
No empty rest promises. False hope crumbles fast.
Just remind them: we flail in despair—that’s our duty, our all.
Keep other thoughts at bay. Keep bodies moving endlessly.
“J-Jin patron. Those guys earlier……”
Yeah, guys with wandering minds cause trouble.
“Ilgak. All that after it’s over.”
“……”
The sharp ones had probably noticed already.
What arts those foes cultivated.
Too viscous, distinct—the demonic qi’s displeasure was unmistakable for coincidence.
“Who they are doesn’t matter now. Surviving—that’s all.”
Just the net? No red flares then.
They’d prepped for after, and after that.
I glanced at O-dae.
Most of my team there.
Eunho met my eyes mid-run. His face stern, grave. Good—even he couldn’t fully mask if wrong.
‘Please be alright…….’
I shoved team thoughts aside.
Or I couldn’t save them all.
Not the words for fresh hell-veterans, but necessary.
“Never stop! Life’s ahead!”
“““Yes!”””
Unlike start, replies echoed everywhere.
One clash taught them: sect disciple status, academy rank—irrelevant now.
Me too.
Not this life’s Black Flame Dragon.
Time for past life’s meat shield.
#
“Three zhang ahead. Natural formation centered on brush, one zhang area!”
At my shout, Il-dae prepped palm strikes in unison.
“Fire!”
Perfectly timed blasts—not too strong, not weak.
Natural formation shattered; path opened for academy students.
Risk of exposing position, but no choice. Otherwise, couldn’t lead them.
“Hah, hah, hah!”
As expected, exhaustion hit post-blast.
Then.
“Rotation time!”
Nam Hwaseong’s bellow rang; Il-dae fell back.
Trickle compared to qi circulation, but without lightness skill now, slow rear run allowed some recovery.
“……Jin Sowoon, fall back!”
Nam Hwaseong said worriedly.
I wanted rest too. Pushed through net, burned too much qi despite circulation.
But.
“Don’t order the captain, punk.”
Worry was pathfinding.
“……We got a guide. Rest a bit.”
Plus Demonic Cult in these woods.
Spirit veins fine, but needed prep for surprise lunges.
Namgung folks lacked that sensing edge.
So I held position.
“I’m fine. Don’t worry.”
“Fuck, if you drop, I’m not carrying. I’ll leave you—got it?”
“No ‘fuck’ to the captain?”
“Want punishment? Survive first.”
Funny bastard. Weird cheer-up.
Ilgak and Il-dae fell back; I-dae filled beside me.
“Those with energy, front first. Gotta smash natural formations.”
“Captain okay? You look rough.”
“Go rest back. Pushing too hard since……”
Probably from demon blood, beast corpses coating me.
“Still good. No worries.”
“Reckless……”
Daring to mouth off to captain. Debating smiting when he pulled a small medicine case.
“Shoulder wound. Won’t heal fast, but apply. Infection might mean amputation later.”
Sure enough, long sword mark on shoulder. When’d that happen?
I took it.
“Thanks.”
“……Captain loses arm, can’t lead front anymore.”
Said that, then dashed half-step ahead.
Why can’t Jeongdo folks be straightforward?
‘Focus!’
No distractions now.
Sword out, infuse energy, swing.
Pierce formations, cleave beasts, advance.
Splat! Splat! Boom! Boom!
Il and I-dae alternated path-clearing.
No stamina breaks.
How far?
Unpleasant ki-sense; I yelled softly.
“They’re coming.”
Didn’t think they’d quit after one breach.
Next move prepped, obviously.
“……Hah, hah, hah.”
Front-runner’s face paled.
Breathing labored, pained grimace, veins bulging.
‘This is…….’
Demonic qi poisoning.
Saw it countless times past life.
‘Even exhausted, symptoms this bad?’
Scarier foes than expected?
Sunset deepened Mukrim’s darkness thicker than usual.