Unconventional Combat Power
The upper reaches of the Valley of Sin.
Among the three dark underworld organizations that ruled the Valley of Sin, one faction stood above the rest.
The Master of the Sam-o Tongbang looked down the valley and spat a curse.
"That mad bastard of a First Young Master!"
From this fortified high ground at the valley's crown, gazing down upon the nightscape of Luoyang known as the Moon Palace, a soaring spirit had once risen in him of its own accord—as though all of Luoyang lay beneath his feet. Day after day he had dreamed of becoming one of the Council of Six, the masters of Luoyang's darkness. So long as the Sword Family kept its eyes shut to the underworld, no one could seize this heaven-favored fortress. That certainty had been his.
But—
"Boss! Look out!"
The instant he heard his guard's cry, he clutched his head and flattened himself against the ground.
A rush of air tore past.
"......!"
The shadow that fell across him froze every muscle in his body. Am I going to die like this? His life flashed before his eyes—and then the colossal boulder that had cast that shadow sailed straight over his head and smashed into the building behind him.
KRA-KOOM!
With a roar like thunder, the high mansion that had been his pride collapsed in on itself.
...My mansion.
Boulders hurled up from the valley floor were shattering the defensive towers of the upper reaches one after another.
...The towers.
They had been defensive towers only in name—crude wooden platforms thrown up against the terrain, no different from the rest of the Valley of Sin. Against proper siege engines, catapults, they meant nothing at all.
Is everything going to fall like this...?!
The catapults were not confining their barrage to his territory. They were pounding the domains of the other two organizations—the White Bone Faction and the Black River Gang—without discrimination. Those two looked equally helpless.
"...The order was wrong."
In the din, the Master's muttered words went unheard. His captain of the guard crawled across the ground on his belly and came up beside him.
"Boss, what did you say?!"
The Master clutched his head, then surged to his feet.
"The order was wrong, damn it!"
"......!"
The Master of the Sam-o Tongbang roared at the top of his lungs.
"By now we should have been the ones attacking the First Young Master's forward base!"
That had been the plan.
"The district chiefs of Tanryung and Gahyo were supposed to haul the First Young Master away under the pretext of assisting an investigation, and the government troops were supposed to disarm his forces—then we were supposed to strike! An elder from the Second Young Master's side of the Sword Family laid that plan out for us clear as day!"
And yet—why?
Why were they not the ones attacking? Why were those people attacking them?!
"What the hell are those two district chiefs doing, lying around on their asses?!"
Far below, government troops could be seen advancing up the valley as if in open cooperation with the First Young Master.
"And why the hell are the government dogs coming after us?!"
The chiefs of Tanryung and Gahyo had only just switched sides and joined Yeon So-hyeon's alliance. There was no way he could have known.
"Boss! It's dangerous!"
"Get him somewhere safe! Underground!"
Guards poured in from every direction, seized him, and dragged him away.
"Why the hell is this happening?!"
His scream was swallowed by the crash of falling stone, never even echoing through the valley.
The Second Young Master's plan looked seamless—a perfect scheme without a single gap.
A boulder smashed down nearby and crushed several of his men to pulp as it rolled past. The Boss of the Black River Gang, staring down into the valley, did not so much as blink.
Where did it start to unravel?
Perhaps the plan had leaked from the Second Young Master's side.
Incompetent bastards, strutting around with the Sword Family and Sapaecheon at their backs...!
Unlike the Master of the Sam-o Tongbang, who had bought his seat by turning underground money, this man had lived through true hellish war. Compared to the chaos he had survived, a few flying rocks were nothing to fear.
"Hold the line, you dogs!"
His voice, thick with internal energy, thundered over his men.
"They can't keep throwing rocks forever!"
To take the high ground, troops would eventually have to come in. And once troops entered, at least along the melee front, the bombardment would have to stop.
"It won't be long now!"
His sharp gaze fixed on Yeon So-hyeon's forces climbing from the middle reaches of the valley. They were spreading wide, as if determined to leave no gap—wrapping the high ground in an encirclement. Did they trust the government troops climbing up behind them?
Ridiculous.
A former military commander, dishonorably discharged, with a genuine grasp of strategy, he snorted inwardly.
Attacking high ground with inferior numbers—and forming an encirclement while they're at it? The disadvantaged side is dispersing its forces?
It was madness.
Arrogant bastards!
They had to be acting on the judgment that the quality of their troops overwhelmingly surpassed his. Just because they had strapped on a bit of heavy armor, they were charging in like this? How much stamina would those men have left by the time they reached the upper reaches?
That arrogance will be your undoing, First Young Master!
The Boss of the Black River Gang ground his teeth and poured internal energy into his voice.
"Give them no openings! Tighten the formation! Hold the defense and this battle is ours!"
The defenders on the high ground already outnumbered the attackers more than two to one—possible only because, under the Second Young Master's orders, they had received the full support of the Council of Six.
These troops were supposed to be the ones attacking. This works out even better.
A lookout shouted.
"They're about to make contact!"
The words were barely out when Yeon So-hyeon's forces crested into view on the upper reaches. Just as the Black River Boss had expected, the First Young Master's heavy infantry—having climbed the steep upper slopes—moved with the sluggishness of exhaustion, their steps heavy and dull.
I'll pay back every grudge from a few days ago!
The Black River Boss roared.
"Just hold! They'll wear themselves out and destroy themselves!"
Today he would force the bitter taste of defeat down the throat of the First Young Master who had set all of Luoyang buzzing.
A battlefield is not some playground where a pup like you can show off his clever schemes!
"The enemy is charging!"
The First Young Master's heavy infantry came on so slowly that the word "charge" was almost laughable.
We've won.
A smile touched the Black River Boss's lips.
But, as with nearly every commander, the moment battle began, the field immediately slipped free of every expectation.
"B-Boss...!"
And it slipped by a vast distance.
"Our boys are disobeying orders and charging the enemy!"
He did not need the report.
"......?"
He could see it clearly with his own two eyes. His men—the men of the other two organizations as well—were abandoning their defensive positions in the narrow alleys, one and all, and pouring out into the open ground.
It made no sense. Even without his orders—
Anyone can see that holding the line is the safer way to stay alive!
"Uwaaaaaah!"
"Give it heeeere!"
The incomprehensible howls of the charging men reached even his ears.
And in that instant, he understood why his forces had chosen to charge.
"Moksok...!"
"The enemy is rushing us."
A gleam kindled in the depths of No-gunsa's eyes, and a smile touched his mouth.
"Just as expected."
Unlike nearly every commander, a rare few war strategists successfully predicted the battlefield. No-gunsa of the War Advisory Group was one of them.
"The catapult barrage, followed by Moksok. The drug's powerful stimulant effect has cost them all control."
"Indeed..."
Yeon So-hyeon stroked his chin with genuine interest.
"Having nothing to do but take the catapult fire one-sidedly, the aggression induced by Moksok has flared all the stronger."
"As expected of the First Young Master. Precisely so."
No-gunsa nodded.
"From the start, our heavy infantry never needed to charge the enemy on the high ground."
"Which is why you forced a forced march on our troops from the beginning."
"That was the surer way to provoke them."
Whether the enemy grew agitated at the sight of heavy infantry closing the distance at speed, or whether the enemy's forward command itself grew agitated—either way, No-gunsa's tactics could not fail to take hold.
"Impressive."
"Not at all, First Young Master."
At Yeon So-hyeon's words, No-gunsa shook his head with humble refusal.
"It was only possible because Your Lordship, with that strategy of yours, drew the district chiefs in and shattered the Second Young Master's scheme."
The district chiefs had not known the strategy the Second Young Master's side was running through the underworld. But once Yeon So-hyeon saw the chiefs move, there was no chance he would fail to read the Second Young Master's design.
"But without you and yours, it would have been impossible."
While the two of them were amiably gilding each other's faces—
"......."
—the family heads of Yeon So-hyeon's new allied houses could not even hear the conversation.
"The enemy is..."
One family head trailed off, his face blank with shock. The son-in-law of the Seo clan let out a hollow laugh.
"The enemy is melting away."
The scene they watched from afar truly deserved the phrase: the enemy was melting.
"Light infantry charging a dense formation of heavy infantry with no formation of their own..."
Calling the enemy's equipment "light infantry" was generous. Given the nature of the underworld, their troops often lacked even proper armor—plenty of them were bare to the waist.
Before the iron wall of the House of Charity's Heavy Armored Corps, enemy corpses were piling into a mountain.
"But even if their gear is light, that is still a headlong charge down from high ground, with no regard for their own bodies..."
The acting head of the Seo clan frowned as he studied the Heavy Armored Corps, unable to make sense of it.
"How can their training and field command possibly be at that level...?"
It was nearly a mutter to himself—but age had left the old man's ears sharp.
Heh heh.
Somehow, in the middle of all this, No-gunsa caught the words and smiled to himself.
We did it all for that—every last warrior of the War Advisory Group sacrificed leave for it.
His gaze turned toward the men holding the line in the distance.
"Tighten the gaps! Shoulder to shoulder with the man beside you!"
A man in armor identical to the rest of the heavy infantry bellowed like thunder.
"Just as we trained! Stay sharp, all of you!"
The only difference was the sword strapped across his back.
"Uwaaaaaaah!"
One enemy, high on Moksok, ignored his wounds and scrambled up the wall of shields like a madman, then leapt down into the rear with a blade in each hand.
"Hup!"
No—what leapt down was only his torso. With a low shout, the man giving orders caught the enemy's head on his sword.
"You're all doing well!"
It was a display of martial skill hard to believe from a mere squad leader of ten.
"Trust the command's judgment and trust our orders!"
For the current squad leaders of the Heavy Armored Corps—
"Don't just hold those shields—put your weight behind them!"
—were warriors of the War Advisory Group.
Following Elder Yeom's instructions, they had used their leave to throw everything into training the House of Charity's Heavy Armored Corps. And now they had gone further still—joining the battle as squad leaders of ten, commanding them in real combat and tempering them in the fire.
"Good! Keep it just like that! Never break formation alone!"
Wherever the line began to buckle, they sensed it like ghosts, and the swords of the War Advisory Group flashed.
"Don't get excited! Attack is not our role!"
Even though the men of the House of Charity's Heavy Armored Corps had never served in the same unit—despite being veterans of the northern war—the War Advisory Group warriors had, in a short span, made them move as one body.
"In this battle we are the anvil! We do not move, and we do not yield!"
This was their true strength—the same strength that, during the northern war, had taken raw conscripts wherever they were stationed and forged them into elite troops, ultimately shaping even the outcome of the war itself.
"B-Boss!"
The man serving as messenger reported with a bloodless face.
"The entire line has lost all control!"
"I know that!"
Grind.
The Black River Boss clenched his teeth.
"Retreat! You bastards! Fall back and hold them in the alleys!"
"Chaaaaarge!"
Chaos. Confusion. The men completely dominated by Moksok's aggression flung themselves at the enemy like moths to a flame, while those who still held some reason stood frozen, able neither to advance nor withdraw.
A decision...! I have to make a decision, fast...!
For a commander, the worst outcome was not a wrong order. It was the failure to give any order at all.
"Tell them to charge!"
The messenger stared at him blankly.
"What?"
"Now that it's come to this—order every last man to charge, right now!"
Ignoring the dazed messenger, the Black River Boss drew up his internal energy and raised his voice.
"All forces—charge!"
"All forces—charge, damn you!"
Even through the chaos, the Boss's voice, thick with internal energy, rang out with perfect clarity.
"Boys."
They had not touched a grain of Moksok. Quietly waiting for their moment, regulating their breath, they rose at their leader's call.
"You all heard him, yes?"
Several dozen of them. Clothing mismatched, weapons mismatched—and in every one of those dozens of pairs of eyes, a cold blue killing intent burned.
"On the First Young Master's line right now, the only martial artists are a handful of squad leaders in the rear."
"Inferior paupers with no internal energy and no martial arts."
The moment the underworld martial artists poured out of their safe house—
"Tear every last one of them apart."
—a lookout on a nearby rooftop spotted them and frantically waved a signal flag as he shouted.
"Enemy martial artists to the front!"
Just those few words. Mid-report, the attackers had already closed the distance to the battle line.
That was what it meant to be a martial artist. That was martial arts.
A speed that refused to grant even the time to respond. The warriors of the War Advisory Group were behind the shield wall for the sake of command, and it seemed already too late for them to react.
"Ah...!"
A cry like a sigh burst from the lookout's lips—
—but the underworld martial artists who had charged as if to rip the line apart were, instead, the ones ripped apart.
"W-What?!"
The sword strokes that erupted from between the shields were so ferocious that the entire front fell briefly into a stunned lull.
A warrior of the War Advisory Group, watching the scene at leisure from the rear, smiled.
"Indeed. The Chaotic Gale Sword."
"Now, then."
From the mouth of someone dressed exactly like the Heavy Armored Corps and mixed into the line, a woman's voice flowed out.
"Let these inferior underworld martial artists..."
She removed her helmet, and long hair cascaded down like a waterfall. She was a precepts mistress of the Emei Sect—a nun.
"...feel the sword of our Emei Sect."