The Battlefield Spear, Sinking into the Swamp
The deafening roar of the Black Wolf Unit still rang in his ears as Cho Jimyeong turned back to face forward. The tense faces of the orthodox faction martial artists came into sharp focus—especially those in the vanguard, whose spotless clothes and clean faces made it clear they hadn't yet shed a drop of blood in battle.
It seemed they had deliberately placed fighters with unspent strength and inner energy at the front. But in doing so, the orthodox faction had made a grave mistake.
One glance was enough—most of them were greenhorns. Likely the fledgling members of the Hyeonmu Corps that the Cheonrang Unit Leader had mentioned.
Such whelps could never stand against a man who had fought his way through thirty years of carnage.
Cho Jimyeong spread his arms wide and took several deep breaths. His danjeon spun rapidly, drawing up inner energy until his entire body thrummed with power.
The muscles in his arms twitched, veins rising like cords.
The Blue Dragon Halberd caught the sunlight, scattering dazzling halos in every direction.
Wuuuuum.
The halberd gave off a low, vibrating hum as his true inner energy poured into it.
He stepped forward.
One step. Then another.
Each weighted stride sank into the earth, leaving shallow craters.
His slow advance quickened—then, with a shout, he broke into a charge. His men behind him surged forward in unison.
The formation of the charging Black Wolf Unit naturally shifted into a chuhengjin (cone formation)—a triangular wedge, shaped like a pursuing awl, the most common arrangement for smashing through enemy lines.
At the very tip of that spear-shaped formation was Cho Jimyeong, as always, flanked on either side by his long-time lieutenants, the 1st and 2nd Squad Leaders.
The first two ranks of the orthodox bangjin were filled with the 4th Squad of the Hyeonmu Corps, thirty members strong. Behind them stood the 5th Squad.
Full of energy from having done nothing but watch while others fought, they now gripped their weapons tightly, shouting at the charging Demonic Cult warriors.
"Come!"
"Think of the comrades behind you! You must hold them here!"
"Guard your position with your lives!"
The 5th Squad Leader, Dokgo Seol, clenched her teeth behind the 4th Squad, her grip tightening on her sword.
Her feet were planted a step wider than shoulder-width, arms tucked in at her sides, blade pointed forward to guard her heart.
Thump-thump-thump—her heart pounded like mad.
She could feel her blood rushing wildly, her jinqi surging unimpeded through her limbs.
Only twenty jang now separated them from the Black Wolf Unit.
The burly Black Wolf Unit Leader, with his massive Blue Dragon Halberd raised high, came thundering toward them. The aura spilling from his solid frame was so oppressive she could almost choke on it.
The pressure was overwhelming—so much so that she nearly felt the urge to voice her awe at the man. This was a presence entirely different from the bandits or rogue masters she had fought before.
So this… this is the power of the Demonic Cult! No wonder so many of the orthodox masters fear them! Father and the others were just fighting monsters like this…
She ground her teeth, a firm whisper escaping between them.
"I will not lose."
The blazing sun beat down, yet her body felt as if it had met a midwinter gale—her flesh chilled, her chest burning.
Ten jang now.
The 4th Squad Leader in the front row roared with inner energy.
"Hyeonmu Corps, 4th Squad! Do not fear! Stand your ground!"
Five jang. Then three.
Cho Jimyeong's nine-cheok Blue Dragon Halberd carved the air.
The 4th Squad Leader of the Hyeonmu Corps, Gong Deogeon, age thirty-five—short of stature but powerfully built—instantly sensed that his squad members to the left and right were freezing up under the oncoming force of the Black Wolf Unit Leader.
Such was the ferocity of Cho Jimyeong's charge—razor-sharp and as massive as a charging bull. The pressure was like a wall of steel bearing down on them, and even Gong Deogeon himself could barely breathe.
The fact that most of the Hyeonmu Corps members were young men in their twenties with little experience in large-scale group combat only added to it.
"Hyeonmu Corps, 4th Squad! Do not fear! Stand your ground!"
His voice, infused with inner power, jarred the 4th Squad members from their frozen state. They exhaled, bodies and minds snapping back into focus.
"Haaah! Haaah!"
Weapons swung up to the high guard in unison.
Freed from the immediate paralysis of fear, they gripped their blades tighter.
Their mission was not to defeat the enemy outright—only to hold off the Black Wolf Unit's spearpoint for a dozen exchanges, then appear to give ground. The 5th Squad would step up to take their place, holding for another dozen exchanges before also falling back.
Then the 1st, 2nd, and 3rd Squads would join the fray, with the 4th and 5th Squads moving back up to support.
The plan was to focus on defense, steadily drawing the enemy deeper into the bangjin—a kind of wheel formation (charyunjun), striking and withdrawing in turn.
They didn't need to overpower the enemy outright. And if they couldn't manage even that much, how could they bear the name of the Murim Alliance's Hyeonmu Corps?
Though most of them were still fledglings, they were far from weaklings.
Each had solid fundamentals, with their own signature techniques honed to a respectable degree. They were hougijisu—late-stage inner disciples—who, in a decade's time, would be mid-ranking officers of the Alliance. Some would rise even higher, and among them were those who secretly dreamed of becoming hegemonic figures in the martial world.
Their eyes gleamed.
With a satisfied look, Gong Deogeon fixed his gaze on the Black Wolf Unit Leader, now almost upon him.
The first clash—he would take it himself.
He raised his sword and stepped forward.
In that instant, Cho Jimyeong's Blue Dragon Halberd swept through the air as if to cleave it apart.
Buuuuung!
A heavy, air-splitting roar—yet for all the sound, the halberd moved like lightning. It was far faster than Gong Deogeon had anticipated.
Seogeok!
"…!"
Every member of the 4th Squad's eyes went wide.
Their leader's head was already in the air.
Cut down in a single exchange.
"Waaaaaaaah!"
The roar of the charging Black Wolf Unit swelled.
Buuuuung!
The halberd moved again.
"Gaaaahhh!"
"Keugh!"
Two more 4th Squad members screamed as their waists were cleaved open, blood and entrails gushing forth.
On Cho Jimyeong's left and right, the 1st and 2nd Squad Leaders of the Black Wolf Unit kicked off the ground, leaping into the air before dropping back down.
Shugagagak!
Shwaeeeeeek!
Two more Hyeonmu Corps members fell without even time to cry out. Cho Jimyeong's halberd instantly claimed two more lives.
"Gaaaahhh!"
In the vanguard of the orthodox faction, fountains of blood erupted in quick succession.
Buuuuung! — Shwaeeeeeek! — Paaaah!
Cho Jimyeong, the Black Wolf Unit's 1st Squad Leader, and the 2nd Squad Leader…
Their combined assault claimed another four lives, and Cho Jimyeong stepped forward without hesitation.
Buuuung! Bwoong bwoong!
It was as though even the air itself was being torn apart. His nine-cheok Blue Dragon Halberd spun once in the air, then again.
The space within that arc seemed to compress, producing explosive concussions.
Overwhelming strength. Profound, bottomless inner power.
"M–monster…! Aaaagh!"
There was no one to stop him—no, no one who could stop him.
In the briefest of moments, before anyone could even think, members of the Hyeonmu Corps were cut down one after another. The orthodox martial artists were stunned by such overwhelming martial prowess.
Cho Jimyeong, the Black Wolf Unit Leader!
He was not widely known in the Central Plains, yet his skill was this extraordinary?
It was on par with—or perhaps even greater than—that of the Black Demon Dao Master or the Cold-Blooded Twin Masters, elders of the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult.
To stop this man… only the Invincible Sword, Han Chugwang, could do it. But if he stepped in now, the entire plan they had laid out would crumble to nothing.
From his position in the middle of the formation, Han Chugwang turned his head toward the rear to find Cheon Ryuyeong. In fact, many of the orthodox martial artists from the middle ranks back glanced toward him.
What should they do?
They had come to rely on Cheon Ryuyeong for all judgment in the situation—after all, he was the one who had devised this plan.
Cheon Ryuyeong, his injured arm preventing him from fighting, had enlisted the help of a wounded comrade to give him a better vantage point. The man carried him piggyback, which made it easy for others to locate him at a glance.
When Han Chugwang saw Cheon Ryuyeong's face, a low groan escaped him.
The situation was unfolding far differently from expected, and the shock made his heart pound. Yet Cheon Ryuyeong's expression was utterly calm.
Their eyes met in midair—Cheon Ryuyeong had turned his head deliberately, knowing Han Chugwang would be looking his way.
He shook his head, the gesture saying plainly, Do not act rashly, and then formed his lips with precise clarity:
『Stick. To. The. Plan.』
Not only Han Chugwang, but also Dokgo Muyeong, Neung Unbi, and many others saw his silent words.
A cold shiver ran through their chests.
The Black Wolf Unit Leader's martial skill was terrifying—but so was the composure of a man like Cheon Ryuyeong, who did not even know martial arts, facing such a scene. And along with that chill came a strange sense of relief.
Had Cheon Ryuyeong shown the slightest sign of panic… they themselves might have been thrown into real chaos.
Cheon Ryuyeong turned his gaze back to the front, eyes fixed on the Black Wolf Unit Leader's relentless halberd work. Already, half of the 4th Squad lay dead. It had happened in the blink of an eye.
Unable to bear it, the Yacha Sword, Jo Jeonhu, of the 5th Squad shouted furiously and charged forward, with Dokgo Seol and the rest of the 5th Squad following. Their deployment came much earlier than planned.
The 4th Squad, truthfully, had been broken before they could do anything.
Cheon Ryuyeong observed the rapidly changing battlefield as if it had nothing to do with him—but inside, he let out a hidden sigh.
They said they could hold for a dozen moves without trouble…
This disaster had been born from the 4th Squad Leader's overconfidence. But it wasn't fair to blame him alone.
No one had imagined Cho Jimyeong's martial power would be at such a level.
Watching the 4th Squad collapse entirely and the 5th Squad step up to block, Cheon Ryuyeong turned his head, scanning the area. He called over a young disciple of the Kunlun Sect among the injured who seemed in relatively better shape.
"Excuse me, could you do me a favor?"
"Yes, please speak."
The youth's tone was respectful—he knew how important a role Cheon Ryuyeong was playing right now.
"Please deliver a message to Hyeonmu Corps Leader Neung Unbi."
He meant to send a runner.
"Yes, understood. What should I tell him?"
"I think I've spotted the Black Wolf Unit Leader's weakness."
"…What?"
For a moment, the Kunlun disciple stared blankly at him. Around them, several of the other injured even mimed picking their ears as if they'd misheard.
Cheon Ryuyeong.
This man didn't know martial arts. And even if he did, how could he claim to know the weakness of a top-class master like the Black Wolf Unit Leader? And after watching him fight for so little time?
"Haha…"
The Kunlun disciple couldn't help but laugh in disbelief. Surely this was just a joke meant to lighten the mood. But then, realizing the inappropriateness of laughing while comrades were bleeding and dying at the front, he quickly covered his mouth, guilt flooding him.
Anger followed.
"How can you joke like that? Don't you see what's happening? No matter how much help you've given us, there are things that should and should not be said!"
Still watching Cho Jimyeong, Cheon Ryuyeong replied evenly,
"Do you think I'm in any position to be making jokes right now? We don't have time. If we don't act, the damage will grow worse."
His voice—deep, steady, and resonant—was the kind one might instinctively trust, even if he were lying. And surely, no one in their right mind would joke in such a situation.
The young man tilted his head. "…Are you serious?"
Cheon Ryuyeong frowned slightly—he had no time to argue.
"Just deliver it to Corps Leader Neung Unbi. He'll decide what to do. And on your way back, tell Han Daehyeop as well. Time is short—move quickly."
"Well… alright. What's the message?"
The Kunlun disciple leaned in close, his expression showing clearly that he thought this was a pointless errand.
If not for the fact that this man had already saved his life several times, he wouldn't even pretend to listen.
But as Cheon Ryuyeong spoke, the young man's eyes widened. His pupils shook violently, and his face went pale with shock.
When the words were finished, he stared blankly at Cheon Ryuyeong, blinking.
His hands trembled so badly it looked almost dangerous. He swallowed hard.
"Who… who in the world are you?"