Chapter 2

Chapter 2
Ga-in, the vice commander of the Baek-ryong-dan, fluttered her eyelids open.

A pounding, alcohol-induced headache drummed through her skull.

Good grief, just how much booze did I down last night?

She pushed herself upright with deliberate slowness.

As the bedding slipped downward, the broad back of the man sleeping beside her came into view.

It was marked by a savage line that never failed to send a cold shudder down her spine, regardless of how often she laid eyes upon it. Running from his left shoulder diagonally across to the right side of his waist was an immense sword slash—so brutal and deep that it seemed impossible his torso had not been sliced clean in half.

Gently brushing her fingertips along the ridge of scarred flesh, she whispered,

“It seems every single time we cross paths, your official standing slips another grade.”

The slumbering figure stirred, turning slightly as he answered,

“If that makes you feel humiliated, feel free to cast me aside.”

This was Baek So-cheon. Right now, he showed none of the sharp, frigid hostility he had displayed within the interrogation quarters earlier that day; here, his presence felt gentle, almost disarmingly soft.

“Had that been my wish, I’d have abandoned you ages ago.”

A faint, self-deprecating smile played on her lips before she continued,

“Besides, even if I wanted to, where could someone possibly dispose of a man like you?”

Ga-in was younger than Baek So-cheon by five years. Every now and then, the pair shared wine and slept in the same bed. They did not consider themselves romantic partners, nor were they everyday peers or typical friends—yet in one another’s company, they experienced a quiet ease unlike anything else. They adhered strictly to a pair of unspoken boundaries: never pry into private affairs, and never display foolish emotional clinginess.

“Any idea where your next assignment will be?”

“None at all. For all I know, they might toss me right into your Baek-ryong-dan.”

“Count me out.”

“Why so against it?”

“Isn’t it obvious? If we faced each other daily, would things stay this pleasant? I’d constantly be walking on eggshells. Worse yet, you’d end up seeing my completely unadorned, bare face without any cosmetics. Absolutely not.”

“You mean to tell me that disheveled state you had yesterday was fully made up?”

“You really enjoy flirting with death, don’t you? With an armed martial artist sitting right at your back.”

At those words, Baek So-cheon rolled over onto his back to look at her. His chest bore an equally horrifying mark, mirroring the devastation behind him.

It was an erratic scar shaped precisely like a streak of lightning.

Whispers throughout the martial world claimed that anyone struck by the Byeok-ryeok Shin-geom of the Black Heaven Alliance Lord ended up marked with wounds resembling raw lightning bolts.

That persistent rumor was the sole reason she had cautiously probed him once in the past.

*It couldn’t possibly be true, could it?*

*Of course not.*

Why had she felt the sudden need to attach that hesitant “could it?”

It was sheer terror. The entire Central Plains believed that the Murim Alliance Lord was the singular champion who had waged that vicious, fatal clash against the Black Heaven Alliance Lord. The mere thought of Baek So-cheon casually admitting, *That duel was actually mine*, terrified her to the core. She wanted no part in bearing a secret that could destroy anyone who held it.

His shoulder and midsection bore yet more trauma.

A faint violet patch resting upon his shoulder blade looked eerily like an unfurling butterfly wing, while the gruesome indentation across his belly looked as though some vicious beast had torn a chunk of flesh straight out of him.

Every time she looked over the ruined terrain of his flesh, she could not help contrasting it with her own unblemished skin, quietly questioning if she had lived far too cowardly a life. Even amidst chaotic battlefields, fortune had smiled on her, letting her walk away without a single disfiguring scratch.

“Since things have come to this, why don’t you simply hand in your resignation?”

“Perhaps I should.”

Ga-in was well aware that an invisible shackle anchored him to the Murim Alliance. She had never dared to inquire about it, nor would she ever cross that line; it belonged strictly to the hidden depths of his private world.

Precisely because she understood he would never walk away, she could bring up the subject without hesitation.

“Walk out of here and pursue things you genuinely enjoy.”

“I’ve never given thought to what that might be.”

“Start thinking right now.”

“Mmh.”

Not once in his memory had Baek So-cheon ever envisioned an existence detached from the Murim Alliance.

“Live your days indulging in pursuits you missed out on. Maybe establish a small merchant storefront.”

“Do you really picture me tolerating difficult, belligerent patrons?”

“Fair enough. The storefront would turn into a slaughterhouse by noon.”

Ga-in paused in contemplation before throwing out another suggestion.

“How about roaming freely across the Central Plains? Wandering about, savoring regional delicacies, chasing after legendary beauties from every corner.”

“There isn’t an inch of the Central Plains I haven’t already walked.”

“Tempt fate as a simple farmer then. Or perhaps become a forest hunter, or a humble herb gatherer living the untroubled, carefree life of an immortal.”

“Merely hearing that makes it sound dull.”

“Then become an independent troubleshooter in the jianghu.”

“I can barely untangle the messes of my own life.”

“Good grief.”

She theatrically held her head between her palms in exasperation before proposing an audacious notion.

“Alright, fine! Since you’re aimless, go ahead and bring the whole Murim world under your heel.”

“Should I really?”

“Well now, looking quite ambitious, aren’t we?”

“A man has to dream on a grand scale at least once.”

“I suppose when the realm demands to know why you soaked the entire martial world in rivers of blood, your defense will be that a woman named Ga-in ordered you to do it?”

“One always requires an appropriate scapegoat to shoulder the blame.”

Baek So-cheon and Ga-in looked at each other and let out quiet laughter. These were the sort of lighthearted, meaningless quips made possible only because their bodies currently possessed not a single droplet of internal energy.

“Ah, look at the hour. I really must be going.”

She rose to dress herself. Though currently in her thirties, her complexion remained just as radiant and smooth as when they had first shared intimacy years ago.

“Care for another round?”

“We went three rounds through the night. Do show some respect for your age.”

“Going five times is child’s play.”

“Feel free to gaze into that mirror over there and admire yourself all you like.”

Leaning downward, she pressed a brief kiss against his brow.

“You big child. You’ve officially run out of ranks to fall from. Please try to steer clear of trouble, will you?”

“A man has to eat to survive. I will do what I can.”

“I’m leaving now.”

“Take care.”

“Feel entirely free to see other women as well. I’m ready to walk away whenever you wish. You’re far more frightening if you start developing real affection.”

With that parting remark, Ga-in exited the chamber. Step by step down the corridor, an ironic, bitter chuckle parted her lips.

Was that truly the honest reason she said those things?

Hardly. The truth was her own terror of falling for him. It mattered little that he possessed no internal strength whatsoever; she would have gladly shouldered the burden of shielding him and feeding him with her own hands.

That was precisely the trap. Even in his most ruined, powerless state as a fallen martial artist, an irresistible, enigmatic presence lingered around him. Allowing herself to become entangled with such an individual would inevitably pull her whole life into a raging tempest.

Yet another dread lingered within her chest.

Baek So-cheon might still exude a roguish appeal at this moment, but what about a decade from now? What certainty was there that he wouldn’t degenerate into a pathetic drunkard, desperately clinging to past glories? His former heights were far too dazzling to dismiss that grim possibility.

And beyond that lay one more disturbing truth.

Throughout these past three years, she had caught glimpses indicating that his restless wandering stemmed from something deeper than the mere loss of his martial cultivation.

A different, concealed wound—a shadowy void she could never touch—unsettled her heart far more than anything else.

No matter the rationale, she could not envision a shared tomorrow alongside him. She consciously refused to permit herself that thought.

*I am simply that kind of shallow person. My apologies, sunbae.*

Left within the solitary room, Baek So-cheon shifted his gaze toward the reflective mirror hanging upon the wall.

Just as her words had implied, the figure staring back looked thoroughly drained and hollow.

It was not merely the lingering exhaustion of their three nighttime trysts, but an agonizing, suffocating fatigue that had slowly gathered across three grueling years.

—

Upon returning to the Cheol-geom-dan, Baek So-cheon found No Woong from the third squad lingering outside in wait. Among the entire unit, No Woong was the one who looked up to and revered Baek So-cheon with the greatest devotion. Baek So-cheon had made a habit of thrashing insufferable superiors, but he had never laid a punitive hand upon his subordinates; consequently, a substantial crowd of loyal warriors still held deep affection for him.

“Squad commander!”

“Drop that title. I’m no squad commander anymore.”

“Dammit! So the rumors floating around weren’t lies after all! Let me rally the brothers right now—we’ll turn this entire division upside down in protest!”

“What purpose would that serve? To pile on more charges until they expel me from the alliance entirely?”

“That’s outrageous! We truly walked into an ambush that day! You’re the sole reason every last one of us walked out alive!”

“That is enough. Stop causing a needless disturbance and step outside.”

“Then I will declare a hunger strike!”

“You? The man whose entire reason for living revolves around stuffing his stomach? A hunger strike?”

“That precisely demonstrates the sheer weight of my resolve!”

“Get out. I need rest.”

“Understood, sir.”

Pausing right by the exit frame, No Woong looked back one last time and spoke earnestly,

“An enemy ambush truly took place on that day. I have absolute faith in you, squad commander.”

“I am well aware. Now leave.”

From just outside the doorway, No Woong was heard offering a formal greeting to an approaching party.

A moment later, another figure stepped across the threshold.

“My, you certainly are as sharp-tongued as ever. Everyone out there is sick with worry for their captain.”

The man stepping inside was Hwang Il-bi, leader of the first squad within the Cheol-geom-dan.

The Cheol-geom-dan comprised seven squads, with each squad divided into five separate units. Baek So-cheon had previously stood as the leader of the third unit within the first squad. Now, he was cast all the way down to a standard grunt.

“Don’t address me as captain.”

“Understood. Frankly, now that things are like this, I can speak to you however I please, can’t I?”

Hwang Il-bi still referred to Baek So-cheon as “captain” because he had originally entered the alliance during Baek So-cheon’s reign as the Cheol-geom-dan lord. Today, their official hierarchy had done a complete reversal.

“What brings you all the way here?”

“Why so hostile? Planning on hurling insults and kicking me through the door too?”

Casually seating himself upon the edge of the cot without a care, he inquired,

“So, what was their final verdict? Are they permitting you to linger inside the Cheol-geom-dan?”

“They’re reassigning me to a different branch entirely.”

“Those heartless wretches from the Am-yeong-gak. Utterly incapable of showing the slightest leeway.”

“Isn’t it much better for you without my presence? Be honest with yourself—having me around made you constantly uncomfortable.”

“What in the world is wrong with your temper? Do you break out in hives if someone acts friendly? Does your skin crawl if anyone says something comforting?”

“Keep your mouth shut and leave.”

“Not a chance.”

“Have you already forgotten? The very offense that earned my demotion was striking a superior officer. Currently, you hold rank over me.”

“Do you have any idea how magnificent our captain—no, senior brother Baek—looked back when I formally pledged my sword to the alliance?”

“Magnificent, my foot.”

“In those days, you truly were…”

“Stop digging up that worthless, rotten past.”

“Why must you spew curses like some common ruffian? You never used such foul language back then.”

“Because there was no reason to do so back then. Only terrified hounds bark at the top of their lungs, and only the helpless resort to curses. We’re finished here. Get out.”

“Damn it all! You make your logic sound so painfully convincing that I can’t even argue back.”

Just as those words left his mouth, an attendant warrior appeared outside, hurriedly relaying a message to Hwang Il-bi.

“Squad leader, the division commander is requesting your immediate presence.”

“That man’s sense of timing is persistently wretched.”

Rising from the bed, Hwang Il-bi turned toward Baek So-cheon.

“Share a parting cup with me before you depart. Even if there’s no official farewell gathering, we can at least knock back a proper sending-off drink.”

“I’ll pass.”

Given the cold, immediate refusal, Hwang Il-bi took his leave.

“Understood, understood. I shall go offer my absolute devotion to our *true* commander.”

Left in solitude, Baek So-cheon proceeded to bundle his scarce earthly possessions into a travel pack: merely several plain training garments and a handful of mundane daily necessities.

Fastening the fabric strap over his shoulder, he strode across the wide martial training grounds, his steps suddenly coming to a halt.

His eyes lifted, fixing on the grand hall of the Murim Alliance Lord standing quietly in the far distance.

After maintaining that steady, silent gaze for a quiet breath, he resumed his pace and walked beyond the borders of the alliance headquarters.

From a secluded vantage point, a pair of eyes tracked his departure from afar.

It was Chung Yang, the current lord of the Cheol-geom-dan.

His eyes simmered with venomous contempt. It was hardly surprising—a major justification for Baek So-cheon’s demotion was the charge of “assaulting a superior,” and the specific superior who had taken that beating was none other than Chung Yang himself.

“Arrogant, insufferable bastard.”

The vivid memory of that humiliation only caused the flames of his hatred to surge higher.

When Baek So-cheon, the very man who once stood as his supreme superior, was reduced to serving beneath him, Chung Yang had instinctively developed a bitter resentment toward him. Baek So-cheon was simply not built with an obedient bone in his body.

In truth, Chung Yang ought to have treated him like air. Baek So-cheon was not an instigator who stirred trouble unprovoked.

Yet, treating the man like an irritating bone wedged in his throat, Chung Yang had taken a minor, insignificant issue and blown it into an aggressive, public scolding.

*I will ensure you understand who holds authority over whom.*

There was one critical calculation he had completely failed to anticipate.

Baek So-cheon was already fractured enough that striking down an officer meant nothing to him. Right before the eyes of his own subordinates, Chung Yang had suffered a savage, humiliating beating. Even without possessing an ounce of inner qi, Baek So-cheon’s speed and physical power were monstrously overwhelming.

In a fit of blinding rage, Chung Yang had nearly drawn upon his own inner power to launch a lethal retaliation.

Fortunately, his aides had thrown themselves forward to hold him back—an intervention that proved wise in hindsight. Inflicting harm upon a completely defenseless Baek So-cheon would have irreversibly dragged his own military reputation through the dirt.

“Why won’t that parasite simply vanish? Just what else is there left for him to scavenge from this place?”

Venting his bitter disgust into the open air, Chung Yang cast a glance behind him.

“Do you honestly believe I intentionally guided the third unit into a slaughtering trap?”

“Not in the slightest, sir.”

The warrior standing attentively behind his shoulder was Hwang Il-bi, who had just walked out from Baek So-cheon’s quarters.

“You harbor genuine affection for that miserable wretch, don’t you? Hanging onto every little phrase he mutters.”

“A complete misunderstanding, Commander.”

“You most certainly do.”

“I merely humored his whims. You know full well how prickly and difficult his temperament can be.”

“True enough. The most rotten, foul-tempered scoundrel in the entire headquarters.”

A self-satisfied smirk slowly curved across Chung Yang’s face.

“Well, you won’t have to look upon that hideous countenance ever again.”

“Excuse me, sir?”

“His final posting has been confirmed. Jeol-gang Province, the Mun-seong branch.”

The Mun-seong branch was situated countless leagues away from headquarters, hidden away in a desolate, forgotten corner of the Central Plains. It could barely be acknowledged as an operational station—it was nothing short of total banishment.

“You’ve arranged to cast him remarkably far.”

“I called upon every favor and connection I possess. Let him rot away into dust over there until he turns into a pathetic, forgotten specter of the hinterlands.”

Chung Yang was a scheming man driven by worldly ambition. He had exerted considerable political leverage to guarantee Baek So-cheon’s exile. There was no longer any need to carefully gauge the Alliance Lord’s hidden thoughts; this definitive transfer made it unmistakably clear that even the Alliance Lord had completely washed his hands of Baek So-cheon.

Hwang Il-bi quietly watched the distant, receding silhouette of Baek So-cheon.

*…Captain.*

A deep impulse urged him to follow his former leader out to the Mun-seong branch. Within the walls of the central headquarters, men were still forced to show a degree of caution out of deference to the Alliance Lord. But out in that lawless countryside, stripped entirely of internal cultivation—what unknown perils would lie in wait? With that razor-sharp temper, would the man even possess the restraint to hold back? He would likely seek to obliterate any scoundrel that crossed his sight.

Yet Hwang Il-bi found himself unable to follow. Baek So-cheon had his own path to tread; Hwang Il-bi carried the weight of his own existence.

*Forgive me. I do not possess enough madness to cast everything aside and chase after your shadow.*

Had he been a bachelor walking this earth alone, he might have pursued him without hesitation.

However, a beloved wife and child depended upon him. Even so, the mere fact that he had seriously wrestled with the thought of tossing his life away proved just how deeply he treasured Baek So-cheon.

He was a man who had never offered a solitary phrase of warmth. A man who was abrasive, demanding, and uncompromising from the very beginning. Yet an undeniable, profoundly human gravity radiated from him—a magnetism impossible to put into words, making it almost unbearable to stand by and watch his slow, agonizing descent.

*You are not the type to perish as some ghost in the hinterlands. We shall cross paths again before long. Take this chance to rest your bones amidst the rolling mountains. Oh, and seeing as how you are forbidden from liquor, I shall gladly down your share of the farewell drinks alongside this insufferable bastard here.*

Putting on a cheerful, radiant grin, Hwang Il-bi addressed Chung Yang.

“Under skies as clear and wonderful as this, wouldn’t it be fitting for us to share a celebratory drink together, Commander?”