Chapter 16
Chapter 16
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 016
Chapter Title: Victory Celebration
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There were no more battles. By the time the Murim Alliance forces arrived the next day at the spot where the Demonic Cult had been encamped, the enemy had already withdrawn across the Song River.
The members of the Subdue Demon Corps, Assault Corps, and Demon-Exterminating Corps who had joined the expedition returned to District 5 headquarters.
Standing in front of the headquarters to greet them were all the unit members who hadn't participated in the campaign, including District Commander Jin Seong-hu.
"Woo! Woo!"
As soon as the expedition force came into view, the welcoming troops erupted in cheers.
"But bro, we really won this battle, right?"
Jin Yeom-pal asked Seok Du-myeong, his face flushed with embarrassment at the unexpected uproar.
"If they insist we won, then we won, I guess."
'A victory where over seven hundred set out and more than a hundred and fifty bit the dust in a single night... Still, who knows how many Demonic Cultists were in that reed field or how many they lost? As long as we claim they lost way more than us, it's fine.'
Seok Du-myeong smirked inwardly but wasn't in a bad mood.
If they'd lost the battle, the odds of dying would've been even higher, and a total rout would've meant nearly everyone wiped out.
Whether the Murim Alliance insisted on calling it a victory or not, they definitely hadn't been defeated. Yeom Se's death was a downer, but he and his close comrades had come back unscathed, so that was enough.
As evening twilight fell, a feast of liquor and meat was laid on for the returning expedition—clear proof that District Commander Jin Seong-hu was in high spirits.
In the barracks of each unit within the district headquarters, the troops gathered to wash away the fatigue of battle with the generously supplied alcohol.
Squad 2, where Seok Du-myeong belonged, had pushed their cots together into an impromptu table, and all seven members sat around it.
Exhausted from the march but still showcasing his skills, Gong Seo-chil had filled the table with stir-fried meat and vegetables as appetizers, along with early-course dishes.
"Yeom-pal, you okay? I heard you nearly died this time."
Squad Leader Jo Ja-muk spoke, eyeing Jin Yeom-pal, who had his side wound wrapped in cloth.
"I'm fine. A scratch like this? Happens all the time—no big deal."
Lately, Jin Yeom-pal had taken a blade to some part of him in every fight.
"More than that, Squad Leader, we've been losing someone every damn battle. This time it was that punk Yeom Se."
As Jin Yeom-pal said, only seven of Squad 2 remained seated around the table.
"Wonder who'll be next..."
"Jin Yeom-pal! Cut the bad omens and just drink up."
Ma Seong-hu cut him off with his deep, booming voice.
Among Squad 2, Ma Seong-hu officially had the second-highest martial prowess after the squad leader. Of course, that excluded Seok Du-myeong, who'd gained a lucky break, and I Jo-hyeok, who was hiding his true skills.
Ma Seong-hu, the same age as Seok Du-myeong and just entering his thirties, possessed solid skills that surpassed second-rate.
The squad members knew little about the reticent Ma Seong-hu's background, but no one pried.
The atmosphere among regular Murim Alliance combat squad members differed greatly from that in the Demon-Exterminating Corps squads.
In this era ruled by martial artists, joining the Murim Alliance was the dream of every warrior.
As one of the Five Great Powers dominating most of the Central Plains, membership in the Alliance carried special weight.
For starters, the pay was different. While a regular official might earn around five taels of silver, Alliance members started at over ten. In wartime like now, it doubled to more than twenty taels—at least for regular members. Officers earned even more.
Considering a commoner's monthly living expenses ran about three taels, they were pulling in massive salaries.
The Murim Alliance, a coalition of sects and clans controlling core Central Plains regions like Anhui, Henan, northern Hubei, Shaanxi, and Sichuan, had no shortage of funds.
A portion of all local produce and grains flowed to the Alliance as taxes through sects and clans, and with their monopoly on regional commerce and trade, they were swimming in money.
Like all Five Great Powers built on martial artists, the Alliance funneled everything first to its warriors.
Every year, thousands flocked from across the land to join.
Those who passed the grueling entrance exams brimmed with pride, and camaraderie among members ran deep.
By contrast, the Demon-Exterminating Corps—made up of ronin—had no such pride or sense of duty or unity.
It was only natural for a ragtag bunch of money-grubbers.
Even after over two years bunking together, they often knew little of each other's pasts.
"Squad Leader, any chance we could hit the infirmary this time?"
Jin Yeom-pal brought up the infirmary again.
"Doubt it. Word is, it's overflowing with wounded, mostly Subdue Demon and Assault Corps guys who've taken all the beds. Think some Demon-Exterminating ronin scum can squeeze in?"
Jo Ja-muk gave Jin Yeom-pal a wry smile.
There was unspoken discrimination between District 5's other unit members and the Demon-Exterminating Corps, and the infirmary was a prime example.
Subdue Demon, Assault, and Justice Assault Corps members got beds for most injuries, but Demon-Exterminating Corps only if they'd lost a limb or worse—the infirmary barely took them otherwise.
Of the five district headquarters in this Demonic Cult war, only District 5 ran a ronin mercenary unit like the Demon-Exterminating Corps.
A stopgap to shore up early shortages, the Alliance now viewed it unfavorably.
Naturally, neglect followed.
"Man, it's depressing. Discriminating against patients? Ridiculous!"
Fuming, Jin Yeom-pal downed his drink.
"Yang Ho, you get your big ol' head dinged every time we fight those Cult bastards. Better hold onto it tight. Won't get to the infirmary till it rolls off—wait, no infirmary needed then, huh?"
Venting his frustration, Jin Yeom-pal picked on the quiet Yang Ho.
"What'd you say, you punk?!"
Yang Ho shot up, furious.
He hated anyone ribbing him about his large head.
Having endured mockery for it since childhood made sense.
"Enough, you two. We're alive, drinking—don't ruin it. Settle down and drink."
Jo Ja-muk intervened as the mood soured.
Yang Ho sat back down, glaring daggers at Jin Yeom-pal but minding the squad leader.
Jin Yeom-pal ignored him, refilling his cup to the brim and chugging it.
Jin Yeom-pal, Yang Ho, and Yeom Se were the same age. One might think same-age comrades got along, but no.
Ronin didn't trust each other. Money turned them into backstabbers in a heartbeat.
Even after over two years sharing a barracks, the three weren't close.
Less bad blood, more indifference.
Yeom Se, at least—the one killed this time—had shared some history with Jin Yeom-pal.
"Losing one by one like this... it's bullshit."
Jin Yeom-pal muttered to himself.
"Squad Leader, rumors say the war might end soon, right?"
Disliking the heavy vibe, Seok Du-myeong changed the subject by questioning Jo Ja-muk.
"Who knows. It's been 'ending soon' since last year, and here we are. Ends when it ends."
"I think it will wrap up soon."
Jin Yeom-pal jumped in right after Seok Du-myeong spoke.
"Why, bro? Hear something?"
Jo Ja-muk eyed him curiously, and all squad members turned to Seok Du-myeong.
Talk of the endless war ending was prime conversation.
"Squad Leader, didn't those Demonic Cultists we hit this time seem kinda weak? Not like the Black Wind Corps or Demon Wind Unit we faced before. I got unlucky and barely survived a first-rate expert, but the rest were total small fry."
Jo Ja-muk pondered; it rang true.
A night raid through the reeds meant they'd prepared, yet it felt sloppy and amateurish.
Chased off by Subdue Demon and Assault Corps, and even if the reeds were bait, Alliance losses weren't devastating.
Over a hundred and fifty dead was heavy, sure. The claim of wiping out three hundred was BS, but the Cult likely took worse hits.
"They've given up on the Song River basin for sure."
Seok Du-myeong continued his guess.
"After years of bloody fights to hold it, they ditch it this easily? Main force already pulled back across the river, and the ones left for this battle were discards. Rumor has it the Heavenly Demon's on death's door, but anyway, the Cult's got internal issues. Too busy infighting for this damn war. They wanna end it quick. Alliance lost a bit of Shaanxi but nothing major—just burning cash. Look at no reinforcements for Demon-Exterminating Corps; they hate spending. No money means no war. Both sides want out—smart to negotiate and wrap it up..."
The squad nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, hope you're right and it ends soon. I've saved up pay—wanna open a little inn, live easy. Seo-chil, join me; I won't cheat ya."
'No way. Why's this guy always sniffing around my Gong Seo-chil?'
Seok Du-myeong's mood soured; he chugged his drink.
"Seok Du-myeong, how much pay you saved up so far?"
Ma Seong-hu, unusually chatty, asked him directly.
"Why do you care?"
"Just curious. You've been here since the war started—wonder how much."
"Mind your own business, Ma Seong-hu."
"Bro, leave it to me? Know a solid moneylender; he'll grow it for sure. I guarantee."
Even Jin Yeom-pal chimed in.
'Are they all nuts? Why so nosy about my money?'
"Nah. Your guarantee makes me trust it less."
Seok Du-myeong had over two thousand taels saved—his life's worth.
Enough for a decent inn in a good spot, though barely.
'Yeah. Even if the location's iffy, snag Seo-chil cheap as head chef.'
Seok Du-myeong hatched a shady plan Gong Seo-chil knew nothing of.
The squad, drunk for the first time in ages, retired to their cots.
Good booze, but sleep called louder. Field bivouacs weren't real rest; exhaustion hit peak.
Seok Du-myeong lay on his cot and soon fell into deep slumber.