Time of the Hunt (4)
The next day, Yang Gunbaek visited the Changgung Merchant Group.
"This is truly fortunate. I feel a bit more at ease now."
Yang Gunbaek seemed genuinely pleased that we were traveling together with the Namgung family and the Iron Sword Sect.
"For now, I've scraped together every black market item from the nearby cities I could find."
His unpacked bundles were stuffed full of goods.
"Fortunately, I managed to secure three Jahaan Pills."
At its core, martial arts involved accumulating internal energy and pursuing enlightenment, with techniques emerging as ways to wield that energy. Along this path to enlightenment was alchemy—not building energy directly, but ingesting pure crystallized essence to cultivate it internally. The Dohyang School had mastered this art through long study of such elixirs. The Jahaan Pill was one of their high-grade inner cores.
"Of course, they're not worth much compared to the inner core you provided, Young Master Sowoon..."
"It's fine. In this urgent situation, I'm just grateful you found items like these. What about the thing I asked for?"
"Ah, right here."
Yang Gunbaek pulled four small, oval trays from between the bundles.
"These kinds of shields aren't common, so I had to make them myself. Their durability isn't great."
"That's okay. They're just temporary."
I wouldn't have much use for them after the chaos ended. I attached one to my left arm first. It was like the gear I'd used in my Small Justice Squad days—left my left hand free while serving as a small shield. The only downside? Warriors tended to look down on it.
Knowing that, Yang Gunbaek watched me with a complicated expression before speaking.
"...I brought this just in case. If it offends you..."
He hesitantly offered a bundle containing golden undergarment-like armor.
"It's from the black market. Made to protect high officials from assassins. Crafted from thin layers of copper shaped like clothing."
"Geumrin Armor, huh."
"You know it?"
"All too well."
I'd worn it plenty back in my Small Justice Squad days in my previous life.
Yang Gunbaek still fidgeted with his lips.
"Is... is it alright...?"
"It's perfect. How many did you get?"
"Just three for now."
"Exactly what we need."
"You're really okay with it?"
"Better a little embarrassment than losing your life, right? Thank you for thinking of us."
"And this is a personal gift from me."
"A gift?"
"I've given you 'friendship fees' before, remember?"
He was referring to the Ma-ryeong Plateau incident. In his hand was a small wooden box. Opening it released a pungent, musty odor. But the shape looked familiar.
"An inner core from a Poison Horn Black Toad."
"I couldn't get it intact since someone needed it, so please forgive the condition."
"You got this for me?"
"I figured you could handle it, Young Master Sowoon..."
I couldn't stop smiling at his thoughtfulness.
"At this price, we're not just friends anymore. Best friends, at least."
Yang Gunbaek beamed with satisfaction.
"......"
"......"
Geum Pyo and Eunho's faces soured. In contrast, Dongryong strapped the tray-like shield to his forearm, swung his hand around experimentally, then practiced a small sword form in the air. He was instinctively figuring out how to use the shield to enhance his swordsmanship. The instincts of a child of calamity naturally sought the optimal path to growth.
The issue of his sword formation breaking due to his advancing sword forms was already resolved. Just by showing him how to blend into the formation harmoniously, Dongryong had elevated himself in that short time—faster than I'd expected. At this rate, no one his age could match him.
The problem was the other two.
"Do we have to wear these?"
"We have our pride as warriors too, you know."
Geum Pyo and Eunho grumbled. They were starting to sync up a bit and now throwing tantrums over style.
Sometimes, showing beat telling. I drew my Black Dragon Sword and swung it twice in a single breath.
Shick. Clack.
Their formations split wide open simultaneously.
"You've both died once already. Aigoo, if you'd worn this armor, you might've lived. What should I tell your parents?"
"......"
Dongryong mimicked a crying face.
"Boo hoo, big brothers..."
"Tragic, really. Imagine telling your parents you died skipping armor for style. Quite the dilemma."
"Stupid dummy brothers!"
"......"
"......We'll wear them. It's not like anyone'll see under our clothes anyway."
"......Gold's pretty stylish, actually."
I held out the shields.
"......Nah, that's just too much..."
"......This is going too far, Big Brother."
"Aigoo, imagine losing an arm for refusing a shield..."
"Fine. We'll take 'em."
"Aigoo, feels secure!"
Once geared up, they kept their heads down. Amid the Namgung family and Iron Sword Sect warriors, they looked branded like criminals, especially avoiding Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran's eyes. By the time we left Soju, they'd hidden completely among the others.
Seong Moran glanced back and muttered.
"It's annoying."
"......You don't know how useful these shields are. Pride as a warrior comes second to..."
"Huh? No, not that."
Seong Moran pointed behind us.
"They're not closing in or falling back—just hovering like a pack of hyenas."
"......"
She meant Songbaek's group, who'd been tailing us since leaving the north gate.
"Should we just deal with them?"
"If we approach, they'll pull back again."
With only Taeulmun disciples, it'd be a one-sided hunt, but now we had elites from Namgung and Iron Sword. Even at the same peak realm, differences in technique and insight mattered. Fighting now would cost us dearly.
"That's why they're waiting."
"Waiting for what?"
"Until they charge first. Or..."
I pointed to the eastern woods. Warriors in similar attire flickered between trees—another group targeting us besides Songbaek's.
"Until the Geomchangpa warriors arrive."
"Will they just watch?"
Seong Moran eyed the hidden figures. I shook my head.
"They'll strike first."
From their view, we were just Namgung and Iron Sword now. Drag it out, and they'd face Mudang, Huashan, and Geomchang too. My prediction proved spot on.
"Wish it hadn't lined up like this."
Heading north toward Henan Province, as we prepared our first night's camp—pots over fires, rice cooking—the first ambush hit.
"Ambush!"
Cha-chang!
Attackers swarmed from all sides. The on-watch warriors spotted them early, signaling. Namgung and Iron Sword elites calmly engaged.
"Damn..."
No casualties on our side, thanks to the skill gap. But the raid ruined most of our food—spilled or dirtied.
"We'll prep again."
The warriors nodded resignedly and restarted. As steam rose from the pots, the watch cried out.
"Enemies!"
"Argh!"
"Damn it!"
They leaped up again. This time, they tried sparing the food, but post-battle, it was ruined again.
"Hoo... They're timing it on purpose, huh?"
Namgung Seonhwa sighed softly. I nodded.
"They know a head-on fight's hopeless."
Different groups, same tactic: wear us down until disoriented, then strike when weakest. Executing rotation battles they hadn't even learned.
"We should skirt branches and head straight for Samgwanmun."
"Easier that way."
"Tell everyone: no more cooking. Fill up on jerky and rations."
"Yes, Miss."
As I sat with Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran, gnawing jerky—
Slurp. Chomp. Gulp.
Someone slurping porridge nearby.
"......?"
Warriors' eyes locked on. Geum, Eun, and Dong brothers were soaking jerky in their private porridge feast.
"......"
They offered to eye-contacting warriors, who awkwardly proffered jerky in return.
"......"
Namgung Seonhwa and Seong Moran gave me complicated looks. I scratched my cheek.
"The kids have strong appetites."
The Murim Academy's regular entrance exam grew harsher the higher your score. It was more ordeal than test; points boiled down to gate passes held. But excelling meant drawing every examinee's ire.
The academy judged by passes in hand—earned or stolen, didn't matter. This rule made it brutal. Even Shaolin, Wudang, and Five Great Families' disciples teamed up. Solo? Impossible.
The harshest case? When you were simply the best. Great scores and many passes made you everyone's target if you couldn't defend them.
"In that sense, we're jumping into a firepit with thunderbolts in hand."
Seong Moran nearly fainted hearing Mudang, Huashan, and Geomchang targeted Taeulmun disciples—especially over a dozen gate passes.
'What was the all-time regular exam record?'
Last cycle, once-in-a-millennium genius swordsman Yong So-a entered top score with five one-gate, two two-gate passes, and one three-gate—for six total. With Mudang elites' help.
Jin Sowoon had seventeen now. Minus six for the brothers, he'd secured eleven solo. No wonder every examinee hunted him.
But that didn't mean she'd abandon him. He'd saved her life at Ma-ryeong Plateau—reason enough, yet something more pulled her: an urge to stay by his side.
"......"
Unsure why, she just felt guilty toward Namgung Seonhwa.
"...Ah, haha. I-It's fine, Sister. We expected this after three-gate anyway, right?"
Seonhwa stammered, face flushing awkwardly at the honest confession. Gratitude was all Seong Moran felt.
A week out of Soju, fatigue crept into Seonhwa's fair face. Hers was mild; Namgung and Iron Sword warriors fared worse.
Constant ambushes, especially at meals—proper food felt ancient history. Worst: the ever-present dread of attack. Even off-watch, no sleep; meals ruined by blood and limbs.
"But I'm really curious."
"About what?"
"Why do the Taeulmun disciples look so fine?"
"......"
No special treatment—fewer numbers meant harder work. Same watches, same fights.
"Asked Dongryong: more people makes it easier."
Now friendly with the brothers, Seonhwa and Moran spoke casually.
"Easier?"
"Yeah. Alone, they'd rather die."
"......"
True, Taeulmun boys were different. Ambush mid-cooking? Brothers prioritized protecting food. They'd even rotate eating while holding formation.
First sight, Moran stared blankly, enemy's sword nearing her heart unnoticed.
Long fights skipping meals? They'd stuff jerky mid-run, ignoring blood and fingers.
Namgung and Iron Sword warriors gawked daily at their food obsession.
Sleep? Foes exuded killing intent or made noises to disrupt. But the brothers, off-watch, pressed each other's sleep acupoints and dozed together.
"......Isn't that too risky?"
Jin Sowoon looked up from jerky at Moran's question.
"What?"
"The acupoint pressing."
"Big noises wake you anyway."
"Exactly—small ones get ignored..."
"Trust in each other."
"Huh?"
"This fight drags on. Sleepless, you'll eventually fall to a blade. So trust your comrades to watch while you sleep. No dying from fatigue that way."
Then it clicked: the source of their oddity.
'Knew he wasn't normal, but...'
Oblivious to her gaze, Jin Sowoon said calmly.
"Miss Seong, mind pressing my sleep point?"
Probably his influence—the brothers worshipped him like a god in the sect.
"......Sure."
Moran pressed; Sowoon slumped like the dead. Watching, she turned to Seonhwa.
"Seonhwa, my turn?"
"......Yes, Sister."
First deep sleep in a week for Moran.
"Geomchang's blocking Jin River."
Half a day from Jin River past Danyang, we halted. Haomen's urgent pigeon carried news: every path blocked.
I joined Namgung Seonhwa, Seong Moran, Namgung reps, and Iron Sword reps in emergency council.
"Thought we'd rest at Jin River."
Plan: boat across Hongtaek Lake to Sahong. Changgung's ship waited—peaceful rest aboard.
"Boats'll draw pursuers."
"At least meals in peace."
Moran shook her head wearily. Raiders sometimes just kicked pots and fled. Three days soured cooking morale.
"Geomchang at Jin River's the big issue."
Songbaek closed to thirty jang. Sandwiched? Disaster.
"At least no Huashan or Mudang."
Haomen said Geomchang and Huashan were close, but oddly separated—Huashan to Anhui-Henan path, aiming ambush at three-gate route. Plan ruined.
"No back to Anhui or Henan."
Anhui: Huashan/Mudang. Henan: pierce Geomchang. Amid raids? Jin River easiest.
"Battle at Jin River's key."
Seonhwa's voice lowered, foreseeing fiercer fight—possible losses, even her or Moran's lives.
"It's fine! Don't worry! We'll win! Namgung and Iron Sword together—what's to fear!"
Moran's bravado sounded scared. Seonhwa forced a smile, nodding.
"Another way."
Namgung rep Gang Seopyo—Ma-ryeong veteran—spoke.
"Leave the warriors behind."
"......"
Seonhwa's face hardened. Sneak aboard via river, but foes awaited. Needed bait.
"Opponent's Geomchang. All going means none make it."
"No."
Seonhwa shook head. Chasers plus river waiters? Bait dies holding.
"Miss, you know powerless suffering in jianghu. Focus on academy."
Recent collateral strife left her unsupported. Before Seonhwa replied, he eyed me.
"Young Master, sorry, but mind watching her again?"
"......"
"We'll punch through Jin River somehow."
Iron Sword rep Cho Mubin continued.
"We block other boats too."
"Captain Cho!"
"Miss, for the sect head—you must enter academy."
Blocking departures? All-in sacrifice.
I shook head.
"No."
They stared—expecting agreement unlike the ladies.
"But right now..."
"Short-term's one thing, post-three-gate's worse. Without you, the young ladies are truly at risk."
"......"
"......"
Stuck, I turned to Seonhwa.
"Miss Seonhwa."
"Yes?"
"Sorry to ask this suddenly..."
"Huh? N-Now...? What?"
Excitement mixed with bewilderment on her face—also expectation. Moran's worse: desperate to silence me.
"......"
No time for feelings, I pressed on.
"How much for the horses we're riding?"
"......Pardon?"
"......Huh?"
Seonhwa and Moran tilted heads in unison.