North Sea Martial Arts Warrior - Chapter 33

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————

33. The Wall of Okmuon Gate

The sound of a drum echoed from a distance.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
A deep bass that made the earth itself resound.
The roar of a guard change drifted on the wind. Military boots struck the ground like drumbeats. Hundreds of men stamping their feet in unison. The smell of dust and iron from the Wilderness mixed together, pricking the nose.
Airak’s party stood atop a ridge.
And there it was. An earthen fortress built in the barren Wilderness.
Its height matched a five-story tower. Soldiers packed the massive ramparts like ants. Crossbows, long bows, repeating crossbows—every kind of ranged weapon gleamed in the sunlight.
Okmuon Gate.
The natural stronghold that marked the boundary between the Northern Sea and the Central Plains. An iron wall that had held back invasions from the north for a thousand years.
Tens of thousands of Northern Sea Warriors had fallen without breaching this fortress, the stories said.
Mountains of bones lay buried beneath the walls, and the blood that had soaked into the earth had stained the soil dark red—or so the legends claimed.
The wind turned beneath the fortress walls.
The smell of earth was uncommonly thick. The smell of ground that had absorbed thousands of years of blood.
Taikan drew breath shallowly, almost unconsciously. The Bing-cheol-swae at Garkan’s shoulder chimed softly. The metallic sound drifted on the wind until it reached the walls.

A single man stood atop the rampart.
A crimson cloak draped over his armor, arms folded, his gaze fixed northward. Hoyeon-gak, commander of Okmuon Gate’s garrison. A man who had held this fortress for twenty years. More than three hundred Northern Sea Warriors had fallen to his hand.
A thin, metallic smile played at the corners of his mouth.
“Come ahead then, warrior or whatever you call yourself.”
The gold that Bingong had sent glinted in his vault. After this affair was settled, he could retire and live comfortably for three generations. He slowly raised his hand, signaling his soldiers.
“All units on standby. Don’t let a single rat slip through.”

“Five hundred archers on the walls.”
Taikan narrowed his eyes as he reported. Reading the grain of the wind and gauging enemy numbers was his particular skill.
“Three hundred spearmen at the gate. At least twelve hundred inside the fortress.”
“Two thousand total.”
Arko tallied the numbers.
Garkan let out a low groan.
“I thought it was a thousand… but two thousand in military forces alone… and if Majeon adds three thousand more?”
“Five thousand.”
Arko’s voice was flat.
“Five thousand against six.”
Silence fell.
Harku started to laugh but stopped himself. His mouth twitched upward, then froze. There was nothing to laugh about.
“…I sense a determination to kill us to the last man?”
“It’s more than just determination.”
Taikan shook his head.
“That formation means they won’t let a single one of us walk away alive.”
“Still, there must be a way, right?”
“I don’t know.”
Garkan studied the fortress wall.
“Breaching that wall head-on… honestly, I can’t even imagine it.”
No one answered.

At that same moment, in Bingong’s Heart Hall.
An ice throne gave off a pale glow.
Sunlight descended from the ceiling, fracturing into rainbow light as it passed through ice pillars. It was a beautiful sight. Yet no one there felt its beauty.
Mukara sat upon the throne.
But she was biting her fingernails. Blood seeped from beneath them, yet she did not stop.
A pale face. Deep shadows hung beneath her eyes. It was impossible to say how many nights she had gone without sleep. Her eyes were streaked with red, her lips cracked and dry.
The face that had once been called the greatest beauty of the Tarkan Tribe now looked ruined, like that of an addict.
“I have to stop them…”
She murmured.
“I have to stop them… no matter what…”
She repeated the same words over and over, like an incantation. Like self-hypnosis. Her fingers trembled visibly. Her voice cracked.
Hyeong-dang-ju approached cautiously. The sound of his footsteps on the ice floor rang out cold and hollow.
“Your Highness. Two thousand soldiers have been stationed at Okmuon Gate. You requested one thousand, but Hoyeon-gak added another thousand. Now, no matter how formidable a Northern Sea Warrior might be, there’s no way to slip through.”
“You sent enough gold, didn’t you?”
“Yes. The garrison commander was satisfied. We filled three vaults completely.”
“Good… that should be enough…”
Mukara lifted her head.
“Two thousand will be sufficient, won’t it? We have three thousand from Majeon as well. Five thousand total… five thousand should be enough, shouldn’t it?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Surely he can’t face five thousand men alone…”
“Impossible.”
Hyeong-dang-ju spoke firmly.
“Even a Northern Sea Warrior cannot withstand five thousand. Rest assured.”
“Rest assured…”
Mukara laughed. It was a twisted, broken sound.
“When have I ever known peace?”
A small cough erupted from her throat.
At first it was a dry cough. Then blood-flecked spasms. The coughing continued in violent spasms until, at last, a vivid clot of blood spilled from between her lips.
Scarlet blood fell in drops upon the ice floor. It was as if crimson flowers were blooming on the transparent ice.
“Your Highness!”
Hyeong-dang-ju gasped in alarm.
“It’s nothing… I’m fine…”
Mukara wiped the blood from her lips with trembling fingers.
Her internal injuries were deepening. A Heart Demon—fear and rage had twisted her meridians into knots.
Thirty years since Airak departed for the Extreme Yin Realm… so she had taken comfort. She believed he would never return. She was certain he would die there. Or rather, Airak was already dead—she had not allowed herself to think of him at all.
That was why she had killed Karani. But now he had returned. Stronger. A monster.
‘If he learns what I did…’
Cold sweat ran down her spine.
‘If Airak dies…’
Mukara spoke to herself.
‘This sickness will heal. I must kill him. That is the only way I survive.’
Her fingernails drew blood again.
She did not notice.
The ice pillars of Bingong Heart Hall trembled faintly with each of Mukara’s breaths. Blue light descending from the ceiling spilled across her pale face. She looked like a beautiful corpse.
Hyeong-dang-ju turned away.

At Airak’s camp.
The campfire crackled and burned.
The smell of smoke stung the nostrils. The warmth of the flames heated their faces, but it could not thaw what lay in their hearts.
Six figures gathered around the fire.
No one spoke first. Only the flames crackled on.
Serian was the first to break the silence.
“Is there truly no detour? No way to scale the walls?”
Taikan shook his head.
“Not unless you can fly.”
“What about tunneling?”
“Digging through that ground? It would take a month.”
“In a month, the main force of Majeon could arrive ten times over.”
Serian exhaled heavily.
“We don’t have that much time.”
“We don’t.”
Arko nodded in agreement.
“We must break through before the main forces of Majeon arrive. We have at most… two days.”
Silence.
Harku scratched his head.
“What about a night assault? Creeping close under cover of darkness…”
“Five hundred archers rotate guard duty.”
Taikan shook his head.
“Night or day, there’s no escaping an arrow barrage.”
“Then… there’s no way out, is there?”
Frustration threaded through Harku’s voice.
Garkan cut in.
“A frontal assault is impossible. Two thousand against six… even for the clan leader…”
“Enough.”
Airak stopped him short.
“I won’t hear another word.”
The firelight reflected in his grey eyes, and each flicker of the flames sent a corresponding gleam dancing through his gaze.
“I’m going straight through.”
Airak spoke flatly.
“Clan leader?”
“Alone.”
Garkan shot to his feet.
“That’s not acceptable! We can’t send you alone. We should come with you—”
“To face two thousand, I’ll need to deploy Spatial Freezing at full strength.”
Airak spoke with measured calm, stripped of all emotion.
“When I draw my internal power to its maximum, everything within a hundred paces freezes solid.”
His followers’ faces hardened.
“Air. Water. People.”
Airak gazed into the fire.
“Including you.”
Garkan’s teeth sank into his lower lip. He wanted to object. But he had no answer.
The clan leader was right.
The Spatial Freezing that had entombed the snow women in Dan-hon Valley would shatter even Airak Tribe warriors. No matter how a body might be tempered by the cold of the Northern Sea from birth, the chill of an Absolute Domain transcended such measure.
“You’ll wait here until I open the gate.”
Airak stood.
“When the gate opens, come running.”
Silence fell.
Garkan’s fists clenched. His nails bit into his palms, drawing blood, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“…Understood.”
He bowed his head.
“When you open that gate, I will charge through. Without fail.”
Taikan nodded.
“So will I. The gate you open—I will defend it.”
The fire crackled loudly, sending sparks wheeling into the darkness before they scattered into ash.
Harku clenched his teeth, his jaw muscles taut. Arko gripped the pouch of poison needles tight, metal chiming faintly inside.
Harku’s jaw tightened.
“Clan leader, I too… will wait. Please open that gate for us.”
Arko closed his eyes.
“…I believe in you.”
Serian looked at Airak.
His profile caught in the firelight. Sharp jawline. Cold eyes. Shadow claimed half his face.
A man standing between light and darkness.
‘Did Karani see him like this once?’
Thirty years ago, when he set out for the Extreme Yin Realm.
“Come back.”
Serian spoke softly.
“Without fail.”
In that moment, Airak’s fingers trembled faintly.
‘I have to come back. I must.’
Karani’s voice echoed within him.
Airak clenched his fist. The trembling ceased.
He nodded. An answer in silence.

Airak slung the Buk-myeong Blade across his shoulder.
His followers watched his retreating figure. No one spoke. Only the crackling of the fire broke the silence.
Airak began to walk.
Wind from the Wilderness struck his face—cold, bitter cold. Yet to him it carried the scent of home. Beneath his feet, dry earth rustled and crunched. Dust rose in his wake, obscuring the way ahead.
He walked alone across the Wilderness.
One step. Then another.
His figure grew smaller and smaller… while before him, the fortress walls loomed ever larger.
The vast gates of Okmuon Gate against a single man—an extreme contrast.
The Buk-myeong Blade vibrated low.
A blade thirsting for blood.
It fed on the master’s killing intent and cried out, its steel gleaming black as it exhaled cold energy.
Airak swept his hand down the flat of the blade, murmuring softly.
“As you wish… you’ll feast until you’re full.”
Did the blade hear him? Strangely, its vibration ceased. Satisfied, it fell silent and sank into stillness.
Airak drew the edges of his Blood-wind Cloak tighter around him.
The grey wolf hide fluttered in the Wilderness wind. His footsteps left distinct marks on the parched earth with each stride—a land stained dark red with blood.

Someone cried out from atop the wall.
“Enemy sighted! Only one!”
“One?”
“Is he insane?”
Laughter erupted.
Soldiers on the wall jeered. Two thousand laughing at one man. A sight none of them had ever seen.
“He’s marching alone on Okmuon Gate? Ha!”
“The Northern Sea dogs must have frozen brains!”
Laughter rippled along the rampart.
Then the commander of the garrison, Hoyeon-gak, opened his mouth.
“Stop laughing.”
The laughter cut off abruptly.
“He’s a Northern Sea Warrior.”
The commander’s voice rang low and heavy.
“The one who single-handedly annihilated Majeon’s vanguard—three hundred strong.”
In an instant, silence fell over the wall. The laughter vanished, replaced by tension. Soldiers’ hands closed around their weapons.
Airak did not slow his pace.
One step. Another step.
The Buk-myeong Blade cried out louder.

—————
This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
—————