North Sea Martial Arts Warrior - Chapter 54

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

The Leather Cord unwound from Durek’s right hand for the fourth time.
He did not wind it back. He simply held it there, staring down in silence.
The loose end trembled faintly between his fingers.
The tremor of the blade, the tremor of the body.
The sensation of slicing flesh, the exhilaration of severing living breath—the battle spirit had already risen in him, outpacing his conscious resolve.
He quietly lifted the Dual Curved Blades from their sheath beside the saddle. They made no sound.
Durek had known the Sound Suppression Technique for a long time.
As he moved the Dual Curved Blades from the saddle to his waist, he did not draw a single deep breath.
The Deputy Squad Leader watched from beside him.
He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it. That silence was assent. Durek transformed that silence into bold resolve.

Two hundred mounted warriors began to move.
Two hundred elite riders had wrapped cloth around their horses’ hooves. Cloth-wrapped hooves left almost no sound even treading on dry grass.
On a battlefield, this was sufficient. Anything more would be excess.
Durek turned his head southward.
The Lord’s Banner fluttered at the precise center of the Double Encirclement Line.
The black eagle’s wings caught the wind. The banner did not flutter toward Durek.
Durek had not disobeyed orders. Not yet. But he had already felt his back turning away.
The Lord’s indecision had already cost them the dawn Surprise Attack—the perfect moment when those enemies, tense all night, would be collapsing from exhaustion.
“Forward.”
He made one gesture with his left hand.
The Deputy Squad Leader bowed his head.
“… Yes, Squad Leader.”
Durek clenched the loose Leather Cord between his teeth.
In that state, he walked quietly ahead. Twenty riders followed the shadow of his back into the darkness. With each step Durek took forward, the Lord’s Banner receded further behind him.

* * *

Inside the Rock Crevice, upon its stone.
Taikan crouched low and scanned the southern darkness. His gaze halted at one point. His shoulder jolted.
“Lord.”
He spoke in a low voice.
“Speak.”
Aelak received him from beside the fire.
“The far inner edge. Two hundred riders. They’ve separated from the encampment.”
Taikan spoke again, a moment later.
“They’ve wrapped cloth around the horses’ hooves.”
Aelak lifted the Buk Myeong Do onto his lap. A line of frost had freshly formed on the blade. The firelight caught it. The light froze briefly across the steel.
His gray eyes turned toward the south.
Aelak’s shoulders lowered. Once lowered, they did not rise again. In that posture, he regarded his followers.
Aelak’s intent transmitted itself to his men.
“Three of them will be my targets. I will loose only three arrows.”
Taikan spoke.
“My blade will see plenty of work. But with the Main Force behind us… I’ll conserve my strength as much as possible.”
Harku adjusted his grip on the Dual Curved Blades as he spoke. Yet his hand held them without its usual eagerness. Those two hundred were far too weak.
“I’ll do my best as well…”
Garkan said.
He pressed the waist pouch of the Bing Cheol Sae once. From inside the pressed pouch, the chain’s end rang out softly—tock—then fell silent.
It was a different sound from when it had rung tock, tock, tock before. This single ring carried more weight than it had then.
“I also… want to conserve my poison, but I’ll adjust depending on how things unfold.”
Arko shook the Poison Powder pouch at his waist three times. The sensation of the powder shifting to one side touched his fingertips briefly.
Serian placed her hand quietly on her waist.
Her fingers, gripping the Needle Case’s leather cord, moved slightly.
For subordinates to report their battle preparations to their leader—this was the Aelak Clan’s method of combat.
They were not engaged in a martial duel anymore—this was war.
‘One.’
On the first movement, she found the end of the Needle Case cord.
‘Two.’
On the second movement, the cord end passed through the loop.
‘Three.’
On the third movement, the loop pulled taut. Her pulling hand stopped beside the Needle Case. Her breath caught in that instant.
In a real fight, three needles would be clenched between her fingers by now.
She was ready.

* * *

Two hundred mounted warriors entered quietly—a hundred paces from the Rock Crevice entrance.
They had wrapped cloth around the horses’ hooves to muffle the sound of footfalls, but another sound carried to her ears.
The horses’ breathing.
No amount of cloth could silence the breath that issued from a horse’s nostrils.
‘Almost here.’
She turned her head and looked at Aelak.
Aelak already knew. His gray eyes had already caught a single dark shape in the southern darkness.
“Taikan.”
He spoke only the name.
Taikan’s Composite Bow drew without a sound. As the bowstring tightened, the air above the rocks fell silent.
Snap! Snap! Snap!
Three arrows flew nearly as one. All three found their marks.
The first arrow pierced the front right leg of the leading horse. The animal buckled and collapsed. The rider atop it pitched forward violently.
The sound of the dismounted warrior’s body slamming into the ground echoed loudly.
The second arrow struck the front left leg of the pursuing horse. Another beast fell to its knees.
The third arrow lodged in the shoulder of a rider in the adjacent column. The wound was not deep, but the warrior released the reins.
A horse without a rider’s control began to rear and bolt sideways.
Three arrows: two horses down, one man dismounted.
Not that he had failed to strike human targets. With merely three arrows, he had completely shattered the combat spirit of the two hundred. The shock of exposure, the terror of imminent death—it all crumbled.
The will of the remaining two hundred collapsed utterly.
Thud-thud-thud!
In an instant, Harku burst forth.
Harku stepped one pace further from the Rock Crevice entrance.
Screech!
His Dual Curved Blades tore through the air.
He spun his body in a full circle. The force of his whirl poured into the blades. That force brushed past the necks of two dismounted warriors.
Both riders fell without a sound.
Harku did not chase further. Standing before death itself, he lifted the spinning Dual Curved Blades overhead and came to rest.
A single line of blood streaked the blades. Droplets dripped from the edges into the earth.
He did not move. He did not advance. He remained still just one step inside the entrance, blades held low.
Under normal circumstances, he would already be tearing through the enemy ranks.
But this image—two hundred bandits facing a blood-stained blade, a grin splitting his face—to the Bandit Horde, Harku looked like a demon.
Now they were not merely contending with two hundred riders. They faced the Main Force behind them as well. Two hundred warriors made into examples.
“… Harku.”
Garkan’s voice came low from beside him.
“I understand.”
Harku spat the words without opening his lips.
Garkan said nothing further. He did not click his tongue in disapproval. Only silence.

In that moment, Durek stepped forward.
A Leather Cord lay clenched between Durek’s teeth.
Dual Curved Blades gripped in both hands—the blades slashed at the rocks with a short, precise cut.
It was not a fast blade. But his blade did not waver. An unwavering blade weighs more than a swift one.
Thunk!
In the darkness, the Buk Myeong Do moved.
The motion was brief—a single gesture: Aelak raising the Buk Myeong Do and thrusting it forward. Its edge grazed the upper part of Durek’s right arm.
The wound was deep. Durek’s right arm opened in a line from shoulder to elbow. The bone remained unbroken.
Blood ran in a single stream down the torn sleeve, spreading to his wrist.
Durek asked what the silence meant.
The leather cord binding the Dual Curved Blades to his hand tightened.
He made no sound. He did not lose his grip on the blades. Yet without his knowledge, the tip of one blade dropped an inch lower.
Thwack!
He stepped forward. He did not retreat.
It was his two hundred riders who fell back. The horses trailing behind hesitated and withdrew without so much as a skirmish.
“No… this can’t be.”
Someone let out a cry of despair.
Five of the Aelak Clan, one of the Huku Clan… against the two hundred of the bandit horde, they seemed impossibly small.
Someone pulled hard on the reins, turning their horse.
It was a signal. The two hundred riders hesitated, wheeling their mounts around as though a retreat had been ordered. Those who turned their horses bolted southward as if fleeing ghosts themselves.
Durek did not follow.
Blood dripped from his right arm, yet he remained alone in the darkness.
He gripped the Dual Curved Blades once more. The blade in his left hand gleamed.
Aelak did not attack him.
Without a word… he walked toward the rocky fortress.
Durek could not strike. The blade he raised toward Aelak trembled in his hand.

* * *

Inside the Rock Crevice, before the campfire.
Harku set down the Dual Curved Blades. He wiped the blood from the blade with his sleeve, though it did not clean well. Had it been yesterday, he would have whistled lazily… but today he did not.
He drew a whetstone from his belt.
He placed the Dual Curved Blades on the whetstone. The sound of steel meeting stone… it was quieter than yesterday. He sharpened them slowly.
Garkan watched him hone his blades with an unmoved expression.
“… The whetstone’s so quiet, the blade sounds loud.”
He spoke softly.
There was no laughter in his voice. It was a jest, but not meant to amuse. It was closer to the voice of an elder brother concerned for his younger sibling.
“Brother.”
Harku gave back only a single word.
“Yes.”
“You’re quiet too today, brother?”
“Because you’re quiet.”
Garkan replied curtly.
Jest for jest. But Harku did not answer back this time.
He pushed the Dual Curved Blades across the whetstone once more. A touch slower than before… the slow movement was his true reply.
A thousand surrounded them… and if another fifteen hundred joined them, that made twenty-five hundred.
When would the great storm sweep down upon them? Tomorrow?
Serian sat before the fire. As she settled, her hand fingered the Needle Case at her belt.
Her fingers moved habitually. She grasped the cord. Pulled it taut. Then her hand fell away from the cord.
Always ready to throw needles.
Taikan spoke from atop the rocks.
“… They’ve all withdrawn. Word will likely reach the main force at dawn.”
After a moment he added:
“The Squad Leader hasn’t gone back. He stands there like stone.”
“He’s still out there?”
Garkan replied.
“Yes. Alone.”
“His wound must be severe—he took a blade from the Lord himself.”
“His right arm. The blade went deep, past the bone it seems. Yet he hasn’t left.”
“A man brazen enough to defy the Lord’s orders and launch a Surprise Attack has always been clever. To be beaten so early…”
Garkan let the words drift away softly.
Aelak lifted his head and looked beyond the rocks.
His gray eyes caught a single point in the darkness beyond. The same place as before… Durek still stood there.

* * *

In the outer darkness.
Tears of blood streamed from Durek’s eyes.
His right sleeve hung heavy and black with blood at his side. His left hand still gripped the Dual Curved Blades with an iron grip.
The Deputy Squad Leader approached from the side.
“Squad Leader. About the Lord…”
Durek’s left hand rose, silencing the Deputy Squad Leader. Blood smeared on his palm left a stain at the man’s mouth.
“Not yet.”
Durek spoke.
“Wait until dawn.”
“Those who fled have surely already reported to the Lord.”
“I brought two hundred men and couldn’t even enter before we were routed. Think about it—three arrows and one sword stroke. Does that even make sense?”
“Squad Leader.”
“Even if I lack martial skill, I still have my pride. When everyone’s eyes are open at dawn, I’ll make a proper report. And let them see what I look like. Let them watch how I die.”
“Squad Leader.”
“I won’t be used as a tool to instill fear in our young warriors. I have my pride too—damn it. I was certain the surprise attack would succeed.”
The Deputy Squad Leader bowed his head.
A drop of Durek’s blood fell onto his bowed head.
Durek turned his gaze northward once.
From inside the Rock Crevice to the north, a campfire’s smoke still rose in a thin line. The smoke was slightly thicker than before.
The smoke drifted away from where he stood.
The eastern sky behind him shifted from black to gray.
He gripped his sword again.

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