Breakthrough
The landscape of the Valley of Sin was nothing like an ordinary slum.
Where common poor districts sprawled in shanties and dugouts, the Valley of Sin rose in a dense crush of buildings. Long before the previous dynasty, this stretch of land had been a storied urban quarter nestled against the foothills of Eunhyeong Mountain. What stood now was a lattice of ancient stonework, over which the destitute had piled precarious wooden structures until every surface was choked tight.
Paved roads still survived beneath that chaos—and along one of them, the First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon's procession thundered forward.
Kakakakak—!
The street had been narrowed by endless expansions and rebuilds, and the Ironclad Fortress, vastly larger than any ordinary carriage, scraped its armored flanks against the buildings, showering sparks. At last a wooden structure jutting into the roadway caught against it.
Kwaddeudeuk!
Even the steep uphill grade meant nothing. The Ironclad Fortress held its terrifying speed as if nothing had happened. It was the wooden building that tore free and collapsed, flung aside like discarded refuse.
But that was only the beginning.
[Obstacle ahead.]
At Chief Maid Jeong-a's transmission, Maid Corps Leader Hyang, seated beside the maid who held the reins of the great beasts, shouted,
"Brace for impact!"
The enormous spirit beasts flexed muscle and vein that stood out stark against their hides, and drove straight into the wall that blocked the road. With a roar like a cannon strike, the thick barrier shattered and sprayed in every direction.
"———!"
Blackie and Yellowie bellowed, white vapor jetting from their nostrils. Hyang, who had raised an arm to shield her face, checked the road ahead and sharpened her gaze.
"Entering the mid-reaches of the valley! Enemies confirmed ahead!"
The procession had plunged into territory where three underworld organizations were locked in open war.
Death cries. Killing intent. Weapons thrashing. Hot arterial spray arcing through the air. An underworld fighter drove a blade into another man's gut while a third buried steel in the first man's back. Up the slope, countless gang members tangled with their rivals. They poured from every alley; corpses already carpeted the street. It was a battlefield in all but name.
"Open fire!"
The maids began loosing the repeating crossbows mounted on the Ironclad Fortress. With vicious cracks of air, fighters went down two and three at a time, skewered by iron bolts. Some were pinned clean through to the walls. In moments, dozens who had been clogging the road lay crumpled with holes punched through their bodies.
Iron bolts raked the street without pause—yet the enemy numbers were overwhelming, and more kept flooding in.
"We're breaking through!"
At Hyang's cry, the two spirit beasts, eyes blood-red, smashed into the wall of living flesh. A spray of blood exploded as if a bomb had gone off, painting floor and walls, while shattered pieces of human bodies scattered through the air.
"———!"
The steel carriage drawn by those two beasts was already a finished engine of destruction. The Ironclad Fortress charged on without hesitation, carving a river of blood and body parts in its wake.
"Tch."
Hyang clicked her tongue. That sight alone should have been enough to crush any will to stand—yet the underworld fighters did not give ground. Some even threw themselves headlong at the Ironclad Fortress's front, as if their minds had snapped.
"They're high on drugs! No mercy—end them with a single stroke!"
Then men with blades leapt from rooftops onto the Fortress itself. Hyang's sword and the maids' blades flashed; corpses bounced off the armor and tumbled to the ground in ruined heaps. On the roofs, the Fourth Young Master's subordinates raced like ghosts, swatting enemies from the path like swarms of flies—yet still the enemy came on in waves.
"Kh—!"
One of the armored carriages following behind skidded, slammed hard into the walls on either side, and finally ground to a stop. Corpses overflowing the road had fouled the axles and wheels. The two armored carriages behind it hauled their brakes to the limit, but still collided before they could halt.
Urgent sound transmissions flew in every direction.
[Three armored carriages halted! Assessing damage!]
[No combat power lost! Emergency measures required for the stopped carriages!]
[Requesting support!]
"…"
From a rooftop, Tang Baek—the Fourth Young Master's closest aide—checked the scene and brought his form to a halt. At the same instant, the enemies before him went down together in a spray of blood.
The moment you enter a battlefield, plans become meaningless. Circumstances change without end.
His gaze turned toward the Ironclad Fortress still racing ahead, as if waiting for orders. Before that look could fully settle, the First Young Master's transmission cut through the air.
[Tang Baek! The lead column does not stop! Suppress the enemy alone and buy time until the armored carriages rejoin the formation! Have the rest of your people keep seizing the rooftops and follow the lead column!]
Swift, precise assessment of the situation. And from that assessment, a decision as firm as it was agile—the most efficient, ideal choice possible.
Excellent.
A smile touched Tang Baek's rigid mouth. It was a smile that reeked of blood. His form melted into the air like a ghost and streaked toward the armored carriages left far behind.
Just as Chief Maid Jeong-a had warned, the situation around the halted armored carriages was a tactical disaster. Like ants endlessly swarming a dropped sweet, underworld fighters poured toward the carriages without end.
"Hold them off!"
Iron bolts punched through the enemy without pause, and the maids of the Maid Corps who guarded the carriages flashed their swords, cutting down the rush. Meanwhile, those assigned the task worked frantically on axles and wheels.
"Shoot! Pour it on!"
One of the repeating crossbows, forced to spit too many bolts in too short a span, finally reached its limit.
Ting!
A snapped string cracked a maid across the face; she toppled backward, spraying blood, and her comrades caught her.
"Kill them all!"
The senior maid who had received temporary command from Maid Corps Leader Hyang stood atop a carriage and howled like a demon.
"…!"
Something appeared at her side. She reflexively drove an elbow loaded with internal qi—only for the strike to freeze in empty air. Black clothes. That distinctive barren face. Tang Baek.
Her eyes dropped to his hands, from which a metallic sound still whispered. Black chains writhed and reeled swiftly back into his sleeves, and as if drawn by magnets, twin chain sickles returned to his grip. Blood dripped from the tips of those twin sickles onto the carriage roof.
"…"
Then the senior maid realized the world around her had fallen silent. No clash of metal. No tearing of flesh. No maids' battle cries. No enemy roars. No twang of crossbow strings. No screams.
When she turned her head from Tang Baek, her eyes filled with the sight of every enemy who had packed the surroundings—their heads separating from their bodies as one. Only then came the sound of blood and meat tearing and scattering. A beat later, every figure that had been closing the circle simply collapsed. Those nearby had all lost their heads; those charging from farther off tumbled with throwing daggers buried in their skulls.
Tang Baek lowered the chain sickles, raised one hand—and the dozens of throwing daggers lodged in the corpses' heads flew back into his grasp.
A master who had crossed the wall. The Tang Family's Blood Wind Emissary. The Head Collector of the Tea Horse Road. This was Tang Baek.
"The First Young Master orders you to finish repairs quickly and rejoin the column."
His dry, emotionless voice rolled out. The senior maid snapped back to herself and shouted,
"Leave the enemy to him—everyone focus on repairs!"
When the three carriages began to run again, Tang Baek was at their head. Chains rippled, and the necks of those preparing ambushes on the rooftops snapped. He raced along the walls, flicked a hand, and the recovering chain sickles harvested the throats of those blocking the road. Heads outside the sickles' arc were pierced by daggers and flung backward. Severed heads floated free of their owners; trunks toppled, spraying blood. Every enemy along the path Tang Baek led met death.
"…!"
Racing along a wall face, Tang Baek sensed a presence and launched his body toward the opposite rooftop. From the alley he had just avoided, a procession led by a great beast-drawn carriage burst out and began climbing the slope—the First Young Master's column he had thought already far ahead. Unable to stop, they had taken a wide □-shaped detour through the maze of alleys and now reincorporated the three armored carriages into the formation.
[Well done, Tang Baek.]
To the First Young Master's transmission, Tang Baek answered bluntly, but at once.
[It was nothing.]
He climbed onto one of the armored carriages, settled into a cross-legged seat, and immediately regulated his breath and qi. Having continuously used external arts and movement techniques faster than the carriages themselves, this was the perfect moment to reset. In only a few breaths he brought his internal energy under control—while Jeong-a, reading the road ahead with her Dragon Eyes, reported to Yeon So-hyeon.
"There are buildings ahead that do not appear on the map, Young Master."
Just as the saying went—the moment one enters a battlefield, plans become meaningless and circumstances change without end—another variable had arrived. The mid-reach maps included in the project plan had been updated late, or were simply wrong.
"The Ironclad Fortress could 'sufficiently' smash straight through those buildings, but the armored carriages following behind would not be able to clear the remaining debris."
"…"
First Young Master Yeon So-hyeon unfolded from his cross-legged seat and opened half-lidded eyes.
[Il-ryeong!]
From the armored carriage directly behind, Il-ryeong answered at once.
[Yes, Master. Command me!]
She was the one who had joined them after seeing the Second Young Lady off from Wongak Pavilion that day, then returning with a resupply column.
[The road ahead is blocked. Find a new route with your own eyes and lead the column.]
[Understood!]
Il-ryeong's form burst through a carriage window, kicked off both walls of the road, and vaulted onto the rooftops. Her movement was so sharp it seemed the armor she wore weighed nothing. Enemies blocking the roofs crumpled; in an instant she stood atop the tallest building nearby.
[All units follow Il-ryeong's guidance!]
At Yeon So-hyeon's command, the column began answering Il-ryeong's hand signals.
"Where is the forward base?"
Yeon So-hyeon asked. Jeong-a, studying the map, answered,
"If we push past the buildings blocking us and continue straight in our original direction, the plaza where the forward base stands will come into view."
Yeon So-hyeon nodded at that and rose to his feet.
The moment the column, following Il-ryeong's signals, swung to bypass the buildings choking the road, Yeon So-hyeon's form—standing atop the great beast-drawn carriage—moved as if it simply vanished into the air. He landed on the roof of a tall building, the massive First Young Master's banner that had been fixed to the carriage roof already gripped in his hand.
The rough wind pouring down the valley tore at the banner until it seemed ready to rip apart. In the next breath, Tang Baek and his people appeared around him one after another.
"Good."
Yeon So-hyeon flicked the hand that held the pole. As if by a lie, the thrashing banner wound itself tight around the shaft. It was no longer a flag—it was a single steel staff.
Casting his gaze into the distance, Yeon So-hyeon spoke.
"From here, we break through to the forward base by the shortest path."
"Understood!"
Tang Baek and his subordinates answered as one, their killing intent sharp as a blade's edge.