"Haa… haah… Am I really alive? Did I survive?"
The 4th Squad Leader of the Black Wolf Troops collapsed where he stood, breathing heavily. His thigh had been cut deep, but he didn't even think to stop the bleeding—only stared blankly around him.
The orthodox warriors who had hounded them so relentlessly were now retreating like the ebbing tide. They were taking many wounded—including members of the Mount Emei Sect—up a low but rugged hill.
Thirty-four Celestial Wolf Troops. Fifteen Black Wolf Troops.
Thus, the forty-nine survivors sat down where they were, breathing hard. Most bore serious injuries, their bodies drenched in blood as they tried to catch their breath.
One of the Celestial Wolf Troops, spotting the approaching Black Wolf Troops, brightened and pointed.
"There—reinforcements from the Main Sect are coming."
"Ah! The Black Wolf Warlord himself!"
They had already heard that reinforcements were on the way, but seeing them in person filled their hearts with emotion. Relief at being saved mingled with sorrow for their fallen comrades, weighing heavily on their chests.
At the front, Cho Ji-myeong arrived before them, scanning the area before clenching his teeth.
A mountain of corpses, a sea of blood.
The overwhelming stench of gore stirred his fury.
"Commander!"
The 4th Squad Leader bowed low, tears streaming down his face, and the others followed suit.
Looking at the bodies of his subordinates strewn across the ground, Cho Ji-myeong spoke.
"Are you all that remain?"
The 4th Squad Leader answered.
"We eliminated the Bohyeon Divine Nun and drove the Mount Emei Sect to the brink of collapse, but the orthodox warriors launched a sudden assault. The three Elders also fell in the end… only we remain."
Cho Ji-myeong turned his gaze toward the orthodox warriors climbing the hill.
Their pace was slow, hampered by numerous wounded. If he wished, he could catch them quickly—but he calmed his racing heart.
A true commander must never lose his composure, no matter how intense the emotion.
He told the 1st Squad Leader beside him,
"Hand out golden sore medicine and bandages."
"Yes, sir."
A subordinate from the 3rd Squad, scanning the area, spoke from a short distance away.
"We've found Elder Cold Sever's body here."
Cho Ji-myeong's brow furrowed as he also spotted the severed head of Elder Black Ghost Blade nearby.
The thought that these foolish Elders had caused so many of his precious subordinates to die made his anger boil—but their bodies still had to be recovered.
He turned to the 4th Squad Leader.
"We'll pursue them. Tend to the Elders' bodies after you've finished treating the wounded."
"Yes. But…"
The 4th Squad Leader hesitated. Cho Ji-myeong asked,
"You have something to say?"
"Will you really pursue the orthodox forces?"
The Black Wolf Warlord had arrived with two hundred forty troops, including those who had deserted earlier. Yet the orthodox numbers were still close to seven hundred.
A cold smile touched Cho Ji-myeong's lips.
"The life of one Black Wolf Trooper will be repaid tenfold."
It was a phrase he always kept at hand. The 4th Squad Leader managed a faint smile, but soon his face hardened again.
"I want revenge too. But I believe reckless pursuit is dangerous. During the fight, I realized they have an exceptional strategist."
At his words, the surviving fifty all shivered slightly and nodded. If the orthodox warriors had come at them all at once, they wouldn't have been defeated so easily.
The 4th Squad Leader briefly explained what had happened, and Cho Ji-myeong nodded, recalling the Heavenly Demon Sword's warning.
An unknown figure had seen through the ruse of infiltrators disguised as the Mount Emei Sect and had turned their plan for piecemeal annihilation against them. Moreover, he had used tricks to delay the dispatch of reinforcements. If not for that man, so many subordinates would not have been lost.
"A formidable one indeed. All the more reason to remove him. If left alive, he'll be a future threat to our sect's domination of the world."
"Commander…"
"Do you think I'm blindly chasing after them just for revenge?"
"…No."
"Look at them climbing that hill—nearly half are wounded. They've run all the way here without rest after a long battle. We're tired as well, but not nearly to the same degree. If we strike through their center in one swift blow, victory will be ours. That's why they're retreating."
The 4th Squad Leader admitted the reasoning made sense, yet his worry remained.
"The Kunlun Sect's Invincible Sword Han Chu-gwang seems formidable. He will stand in your way."
"Do you think I would lose to him?"
The 4th Squad Leader hesitated before speaking.
"I… don't know."
Cho Ji-myeong gave a short laugh.
"So you think my chances are fifty-fifty?"
"Yes."
"Then I will win."
A smile finally appeared on the 4th Squad Leader's face. The Black Wolf Warlord had spent thirty years on the battlefield, overcoming countless trials. He had defeated numerous opponents stronger than himself to reach his current position, backed by high martial skill and immeasurable combat experience.
"Yes… Forgive me. I didn't mean to doubt your strength."
"I know. You were concerned for me. And… you've done well."
"…Thank you."
"Thank you for surviving. I will wash away your fallen comrades' grudges with blood."
"Thank you, sir."
By now, the orthodox warriors had nearly vanished over the hill's crest.
As Cho Ji-myeong was about to give the order to pursue, the 4th Squad Leader spoke again.
"Commander, one more thing. There's something I can't let go unmentioned…"
Though Cho Ji-myeong frowned slightly, he listened.
"What is it?"
"The young man who seemed to be their strategist said something strange."
If this was the man responsible for creating such a mess, it couldn't be ignored. Cho Ji-myeong asked carefully,
"What did he say?"
"He told the three leaders of the orthodox forces that retreating now didn't mean they weren't going to fight—that it was to fight on favorable ground."
Cho Ji-myeong's brows drew together.
"To fight on favorable ground…?"
His gaze turned toward the hilltop. It was low, but steep and rugged enough. What if they weren't truly retreating, but lying in ambush there?
They could launch a surprise attack on his troops as they climbed, turning the battle into a hard fight.
True, there hadn't been enough time for them to prepare logs or boulders to roll down, so the hill could still be taken—but fighting uphill against an enemy positioned above would inevitably cause significant losses.
"Hmm… You really heard him say that?"
"Yes."
Others nodded in agreement.
Cho Ji-myeong clicked his tongue and shook his head.
"Tsk, tsk… I never like strategists. They cause us trouble with nothing more than their wagging tongues."
He thought in silence. But in truth, his options were already clear.
This strategist had already cost him far too many men. He couldn't allow himself to be caught in the man's schemes again and lose more for nothing.
That left two choices.
First—safely circle around the hill.
But this had fatal flaws: it would take too long, and he couldn't guarantee the safety of the fifty or so wounded left here. If the enemy was indeed hiding beyond the hill, they could loop back and threaten the wounded once his force moved away. Pulling men from his 240 to guard the wounded was equally unwise, as it risked their being defeated in detail.
The second choice—send scouts to the hilltop.
This too would delay the pursuit, but Cho Ji-myeong had already realized the orthodox force's mobility was low due to their injured. A slight delay waiting for a signal from the scouts was an acceptable risk.
He ordered the 1st Squad Leader,
"Send three skilled in lightness arts as scouts to the top."
"Yes, sir."
"In the meantime, give the men a short rest and send a carrier pigeon to the Sichuan Branch reporting the situation here."
"Yes, sir."
Meanwhile, the 4th Squad Leader, believing the Warlord had made the right decision, was smiling—until he tilted his head slightly.
Something that young man had said earlier stuck uncomfortably in his mind.
The claim that they, the survivors, would somehow be useful to the orthodox warriors.
How could they possibly be of any benefit to them?
It seemed so absurd and far-fetched that he felt embarrassed even to report it. If he said anything, he'd only hear, "You must have been through a lot. Probably misheard him."
The 4th Squad Leader and the other fifty survivors didn't give Cheon Ryu-yeong's words much thought. What really mattered was the part about "fighting on favorable ground."
They had no idea they were already being used by Cheon Ryu-yeong.
What he needed now was time, and the fifty survivors were tying Cho Ji-myeong down with reports and formalities—plus the added delay of sending scouts.
The orthodox forces, having descended the hill safely, traveled a hundred jang further before reorganizing their formation according to Cheon Ryu-yeong's instructions.
Han Chu-gwang and Neung Un-bi were still a little sour about retreating from a mere two hundred Black Wolf Troops.
But as they crossed the hill, Jo Jeon-hu spoke about the Black Wolf Warlord, and Cheon Ryu-yeong added his own explanation. Both men cleanly admitted they had been too greedy.
They weren't afraid of a head-to-head clash between commanders, but a chaotic melee could cost too many subordinates' lives.
Though tired, they still outnumbered the Black Wolf Troops. That meant they could leverage their numerical advantage best in an open, flat field.
It was this terrain advantage that Cho Ji-myeong and the Black Wolf Troops' 4th Squad Leader had mistaken for an ambush. In truth, it was all part of Cheon Ryu-yeong's ploy to buy time.
Cheon Ryu-yeong now said,
"Alright. As I've explained, we'll set up a Last Stand Formation here."
A baesu-jin (背水陣) — a formation with water at one's back.
It meant placing oneself in a situation where there was no retreat—fighting with the resolve that only by winning could one live.
But here, on this dry plain with not a drop of water in sight… how exactly would they set up such a formation?
Having already heard his explanation, the orthodox warriors simply shook their heads and followed his directions. Mid-level officers dashed about, repositioning their men and checking with Cheon Ryu-yeong if everything was in place.
The looks they gave him now held even a trace of reverence.
Dok Go Mu-yeong, watching Dok Go-seol wrap his injured hand with cloth, asked,
"How did you come to know that young man?"
Dok Go-seol bit her full lower lip, looking a little troubled.
"Well… I guess the truth is, it was just chance. I met him while eating with Uncle Jo Jeon-hu at an inn."
Even crossing the hill, Dok Go Mu-yeong still felt bitter over the Bohyeon Divine Nun's death. But that was the past—he was alive, and he had to keep fighting.
"Is that so? Then Heaven must have favored us. I shudder to think what would have happened if you hadn't met him. But… is he really just a cart-puller?"
His tone made it clear he found it hard to believe, even though he'd heard as much already.
Dok Go-seol tied off the bandage and said,
"Yes. He was fired from Jinshan Escort Agency and was having a farewell drink with the other cart-pullers."
"Why would he be fired? No—why would such a young man be a cart-puller in the first place?"
Dok Go-seol recalled the conversations among the cart-pullers, and the matter of the Green Forest Eighteen Strongholds. But she had promised him to keep that a secret.
A promise—
It was a matter of trust.
It was something important enough that she could press him further, but she feared that prodding him might make him lose faith in her.
She didn't want to lose Cheon Ryu-yeong. People like him weren't found just by looking.
"Who knows? Maybe his superiors were jealous of his talent."
"Talent like his is beyond mere skill. A decent warrior can be bought with enough money, but a decent strategist is said to be granted by Heaven."
Dok Go-seol shrugged. It was a famous saying, and truthfully, wasn't that her reason for approaching him in the first place—to recruit a capable strategist?
Dok Go Mu-yeong's gaze stayed fixed on Cheon Ryu-yeong with admiration.
"But that young man is more than just 'decent.'"
"I… think so too."
"To set up a last stand formation here on dry ground—turning it into a deceptive trap… Hah. That young man astonishes me every time he opens his mouth. Even as an ally, I feel a twinge of fear. His thinking flows without blockage, and he can see both the trees and the forest at the same time."
Dok Go-seol turned her gaze to Cheon Ryu-yeong as well. Seeing him run about sweating, she couldn't help but smile faintly. Such pitiful stamina.
Not long ago, he had indeed been just a shabby cart-puller. Now, he radiated the bearing of a general or strategist commanding ten thousand.
Her eyes caught on his worn gray robe, patched in several places. It struck her with a pang of sympathy, and she suddenly thought—if they survived this battle, she would buy him clothes more fitting.
"I'm still… in shock because of him. I thought maybe I could recruit him as a talented strategist, but I had no idea he was this capable."
Dok Go Mu-yeong's lips curved into a gentle smile. He was proud of his daughter for thinking that way.
"We have to keep him."
"…What?"
"No matter what, we must bring him into our clan. Haven't you noticed the way Leader Neung Un-bi and Hero Han keep glancing at him?"
Dok Go-seol looked and indeed saw the two occasionally casting sidelong glances at Cheon Ryu-yeong while checking their men's formations.
Those glances brimmed with the naked desire to recruit talent.
"He's become a prize catch. In less than half a day."
Dok Go-seol thought this day felt impossibly long.
So much had happened, yet her own uniform wasn't stained with a single drop of blood. It made her feel oddly self-conscious among her comrades.
Dok Go Mu-yeong turned his gaze from Cheon Ryu-yeong back to his daughter.
"How much do you actually know about him?"
"Why?"
"To bring him into our fold, we have to know what he wants."
Dok Go-seol was about to say "money"—knowing his poor family circumstances. But she also remembered a part of their conversation the previous night.
His question—could she teach him martial arts?
She was about to mention both, but then she froze.
At the crest of the hill they had crossed earlier, the Black Wolf Troops appeared.
They began descending, shouting war cries.
Cheon Ryu-yeong took a deep breath, then called out to everyone,
"Whew… Then I'll count on you all. I have a mother and younger sister to look after."
His plea, almost like a personal lament, drew small chuckles—but also made everyone grip their weapons tighter.
His words made them think of their own families.
Perhaps it sounded selfish, but in that moment, it struck deep in every heart.
It wasn't grand or flowery.
But could there be any words more fitting right now to steel one's resolve?
Family to protect.
Dok Go-seol thought it was more timely and effective than any ornate command she had ever heard.
Family waiting at home, friends and sworn brothers, elders who cherished them, people they longed to see again.
To see them again, they had to survive. To survive, they had to fight—and win.
Her grip on her sword tightened.
"Not for my own honor… but to see those I long for again. Hmph. I like that."
Murmuring to herself, Dok Go-seol moved to her assigned place at the very front.
From the hill, the Black Wolf Troops charged down like a storm.
The thunderous voice of Black Wolf Warlord Cho Ji-myeong rang out.
"I am Cho Ji-myeong, commander of the Black Wolf Troops of the Great Heavenly Demon Cult!"
The heavy, solid cry rode the wind straight into the hearts of the orthodox warriors.