Though they could not discern the enemy’s true intentions, those before them, despite being fewer in number, showed not a hint of hesitation.
This meant the enemy was confident, and at the same time, thoroughly prepared.
Yet no matter how he judged by his own standards, their actions seemed reckless.
‘They’re no fools—there must be something they’re hiding… It’s frustrating not knowing what it is.’
Even with assassins among them, considering their current numbers and situation, Gwak Jagoh thought it would be hard to expect great results from a surprise attack.
And so, Gwak Jagoh’s worries deepened.
On the other hand, Kang Bulhae looked around at the gathered people and let out a deep sigh.
Of the more than 900 gathered here, most had no idea what was truly happening; they’d simply come because they were called.
‘Why does this keep happening to us?’
Though the world called them Heukdo, all they’d ever done was strive to live honestly in their own way, simply trying to protect themselves.
Thinking of this made the injustice of their reality feel even heavier.
He’d lived his whole life with nothing but the instinct to survive, and if he hadn’t risked everything on that, his life would have ended long ago.
No one in this world cared about the lives or deaths of abandoned orphans.
If it weren’t for the one who gathered them more than twenty years ago, most of those now in the Cheonrangpa would have become wandering ghosts, lost to the world.
Perhaps they were fated from birth to be thrown into a pit of cruel destiny.
Once the enemies who had drawn near finished their preparations, a battle would begin that would claim countless lives.
Despite his worries, one word refused to leave his mind: assassin.
As the word “assassin” crossed his thoughts, Gangchan’s face surfaced in his mind.
A man whose martial arts were beyond their imagination—and a benefactor who had helped them for no clear reason.
Once Gangchan came to mind, his presence grew ever larger in Kang Bulhae’s thoughts.
He urgently called one of his subordinates and ordered him to tell Nanseol that there might be assassins among the enemy.
Then he looked up to the sky again.
Please, let that not be the last sky I see…
Nanseol stood in deep thought, the message in her hand.
Assassins had appeared during the unification of the Heukdo in Suzhou.
Judging by the number, timing, and circumstances of the deaths, it seemed at least five assassins had been involved.
If that was true, then the likelihood was high that such assassins were mixed among the forces of Heukho Bang heading here now.
If those assassins targeted only the key figures of the Hangju forces, the battle would end in an instant.
But an even bigger problem was the mysterious “Fujian Twin Monsters” who’d appeared at the inn and then vanished without a trace.
If the rumors were true and they really were the Fujian Twin Monsters, this fight would be almost impossible to win.
If even half of what was said about them was true, numbers meant nothing against such foes.
The Fujian Twin Monsters were martial artists who had reached the pinnacle.
Moreover, rumors that the Demonic Sect was behind them were almost universally accepted as fact.
Nanseol paced the room, clutching the message.
The Demonic Sect was not an enemy that could be faced by a single force.
They were like monsters themselves, and if they were truly involved, the wisest choice now would be to abandon everything and flee as quickly as possible.
And yet, for some reason, Gangchan’s face refused to leave Nanseol’s mind.
‘Why did she keep thinking of him?’
Gangchan’s presence grew larger and larger in her thoughts.
No one had ever stood alone against the monstrous Demonic Sect, not in the past nor, as Nanseol knew better than anyone, would they in the future.
But when she thought of Gangchan, those negative thoughts faded away, almost as if by magic.
She couldn’t say why, but the more she thought of Gangchan, the more a deep, inexplicable confidence welled up from within.
“Guard Ga, we’re heading to Baekcheon Inn right now.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
As Guard Ga responded briefly and moved, Nanseol hurried after him, quickening her steps.
Carrying a confidence she couldn’t explain even to herself, she rushed toward where Gangchan was.
***
After finishing his meal, Gangchan returned to his quarters, replaying yesterday’s battle in his mind.
The bizarre defense of the Absorbing Essence, and how ordinary attacks hadn’t worked.
He ran through countless attack methods in his head, but couldn’t come up with a clear solution.
The limits brought on by lack of real combat experience.
‘If time is the answer, there’s nothing to be done.’
With that, Gangchan finished his review.
At that moment, there was a knock at the door.
Gangchan stood and called out toward the door.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me. Nanseol.”
“Ah, just a moment.”
He quickly tidied up his messy bedding, straightened his clothes, and opened the door.
“What brings you here at this hour?”
“Gongja-nim, I have urgent news.”
“What’s got you in such a hurry? Please, come in.”
Guided into the room by Gangchan, Nanseol sat down and spoke in a hurried voice.
“I’ll be direct. It seems the Demonic Sect is involved in the Heukdo battle between Suzhou and Hangju.”
Gangchan was silent for a moment, turning her words over in his mind.
“Did you know the Fujian Twin Monsters showed up at Pungnyu Inn yesterday?”
Gangchan tilted his head slightly and asked back, “Ah, you mean that strange old man and woman in the weird shells?”
“So you do know. There are signs that the Demonic Sect is behind them as well. And during the Heukdo war in Suzhou, assassins appeared—most likely sent by the Demonic Sect.”
“Assassins?”
Gangchan asked, sounding interested.
“Yes, among the Suzhou forces attacking Hangju right now, there are assassins mixed in. This isn’t just a brawl between Heukdo; it might be part of some huge scheme involving powerful forces. Gongja-nim, please help them.”
Gangchan looked at Nanseol in silence.
Her deep, unreadable gaze made Nanseol lose her words for a moment. Then, as if she realized something, she let out a long sigh and bowed her head.
Before she knew it, her tone had grown much calmer.
“The enemy is most likely the Demonic Sect. No, I’m certain it is. If you get swept up in their schemes, the end is already decided. In all of history, there are few who got involved with the Demonic Sect and lived to tell about it.”
She paused, lowered her head, and added, “I’m sorry. I must have been too impatient and forced this on you.”
Gangchan raised an eyebrow slightly and asked, “Ruju-nim, why are you telling me all this?”
Nanseol hesitated, then looked up.
“It might be hard to believe, but… just now, I felt like I had to.”
Gangchan gave a wry smile and tilted his head. “That feeling again, huh?”
“Gongja-nim, I’m truly sorry.”
Nanseol finished speaking and bowed her head.
She couldn’t clearly explain her actions, but now the frustration from before had vanished.
Now that she’d told Gangchan about the Demonic Sect’s involvement, all that was left was to get herself and the other Haomun members to safety as quickly as possible.
Nanseol looked at Gangchan with a face full of regret as she organized her thoughts.
Then she quietly stood up.
“You should get out of here as well, Gongja-nim. Then…”
But Gangchan seemed deep in thought, as if he hadn’t even heard her words.
As he’d suspected, those watching him were indeed from the Demonic Sect; realizing this, his eyes grew even deeper.
Nanseol didn’t know, but Gangchan was already entangled in the affairs of the Demonic Sect.
And at this point, even if he tried to escape, would they ever just let him go?
There was no way that would happen.
The outcome was as good as decided.
Watching Nanseol about to walk out the door, Gangchan finally spoke up.
“That feeling of yours—let’s hope it’s right again this time… And, by the way, you still haven’t paid me the money you promised last time. It’d be a shame to just give up now, don’t you think?”
Gangchan gathered his bow and the Samhonbu, then mounted Mong.
Even if he set out now, there was no way to know how things would turn out.
But one thing was certain: the sooner he arrived, the fewer casualties there would be on their side.
Gangchan turned his gaze to Nanseol.
“Depending on how things go, even this place could become dangerous. Be ready to evacuate, keep a close watch on the situation, and if you do need to flee, make sure you leave a way to contact me.”
Nanseol nodded in response.
“Understood. If things get urgent, get yourself to safety first.”
“All right.”
Gangchan lightly patted Mong’s neck.
“Mong, let’s go as fast as we can.”
Heeeiiiigh!
And so, with Gangchan on its back, Mong raced forward.
There are only two reasons why Heukdo fight.
One is for revenge—to settle a grudge they could never forget, even in death. The other is a struggle for power.
In cases of revenge, the goal is to kill the target, so mass deaths are common.
But in power struggles, it often ends when the other side’s leader is removed.
If too many die in a fight to expand one’s power, even victory means little.
In the Heukdo world, numbers are a direct measure of strength.
A group that loses people is that much weaker, and becomes an enticing target for other Heukdo.
As a result, there were many times when victors ended up losing even their own territory to others after a war.
The ongoing battle between the Hangju forces and Suzhou’s Heukho Bang was a struggle for power.
Moreover, it wasn’t a sneak attack, but an all-out frontal clash.
Dozens, even hundreds, were tangled in combat at once, but in the end, what mattered was which side’s leader survived.
Yet this battle was different.
The Heukho Bang treated the Hangju forces like mortal enemies.
They even went out of their way to finish off those who were already incapacitated.
This was not the typical Heukdo way.
As the fighting broke out, shouts, cheers, and screams mixed together, plunging everything into chaos.
With more than a thousand men fighting, those further back couldn’t grasp what was happening at the front.
Yet strangely, just as the Hangju forces, using their numerical advantage, began to push forward, their advance suddenly halted.
At that moment, a chorus of screams rang out.
Those screams seized the minds of all those fighting.
Confusion broke out in an instant, and of course, panic began to spread.
Watching from the rear, Kang Bulhae judged that assassins really were present.
His men, unable to move forward, began to stumble backward, as if frightened by something unseen.
Kang Bulhae shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Beware the hidden ones!”
His voice echoed across the battlefield.
“Argh…!”
Among the men, members of Amyoungdae deliberately maimed, not killed, their targets—cutting off limbs to spread terror.
Those who lost limbs screamed and rampaged in agony, the sound enough to fill those around them with dread.
What’s more, when they did kill, they made it as brutal as possible, turning the scene into a blood-soaked horror.
In a short time, dozens were savagely killed or maimed, and the rest, gripped by fear, began to fall back.
But with so many packed together, even retreating was no easy matter.
“Don’t push!”
“Stay back! Aaargh!”
Confusion peaked, and the Heukho Bang’s Bandang, who had quickly turned the early disadvantage around, watched the battle with satisfaction.
He looked at Gu Jinhyuk, who was observing the fight beside him, and spoke in approval.
“As expected, the ones you brought are extraordinary. At this rate, it’ll be over soon.”
Gu Jinhyuk nodded carefully.
“All thanks to the Dangunim’s blessing. But we mustn’t let our guard down until we capture Gwak Jagoh and Kang Bulhae.”
“Haha, is that so. In any case, tell them to keep it up a little longer.”
Bandang grinned, pleased, as he spoke to Gu Jinhyuk.
Meanwhile, Kang Bulhae shouted urgently to Gwak Jagoh.
“Hweju-nim! It seems assassins have appeared at the front!”
At last, what they had feared had become reality.
With a grim face, Gwak Jagoh made a decision.
“They’re beyond the others. We must move ourselves.”
Kang Bulhae stepped forward.
“I’ll go ahead and face them.”
Gwak Jagoh shook his head.
“No. We go together.”
If things continued like this, their men would be paralyzed by fear and slaughtered.
With determination, Kang Bulhae and Gwak Jagoh led the officers forward at speed.
Kang Bulhae wasted no time; as soon as he saw the enemy attacking his men, he swung his sword.
The enemy flinched and broke off their attack to block Kang Bulhae’s blade. But in that very instant, something flashed between the enemy’s legs.
Kang Bulhae instinctively pulled his leg back. Even so, a burning pain flared in his thigh, and his strength drained away.
Staggering back, he looked down at his leg—his thigh was split open, blood gushing out.
His reaction had been too slow.
No, more precisely, he had not even seen the enemy’s attack.
Kang Bulhae stared at his long, torn thigh, despair washing over him.
Just a strange feeling and he’d barely pulled his leg away—in another moment, he might have lost it entirely.
Then, Kang Bulhae realized it.
Death was now looming right in front of his nose.