The Legend of Red Cloud - Chapter 10

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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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Chapter 10. Misunderstanding and Trap
The moment doubt crept in, Ryu sensed fierce presences rushing toward them—as if by cruel design.
Shrrrrring.
At the sound of Ryu’s beloved blade, Youmyeong, bared along his back and singing with cold steel, Heejun’s expression shifted to alarm.
He understood what it meant for Ryu to draw his sword in a skirmish of this scale.
The reason became clear to everyone in Dongpil’s roar, shouted from the thick of battle.
“More of them are coming!”
Just as Hwangbo Jangseong and the others felt despair wash over them even as they fought on, a wave of savage force crashed down upon them.
Shriek!
Isong was driven back at once, his blade colliding with the weapons of those who rushed forward screaming that grotesque cry.
Toward the enemy pressing through that moment of imbalance, Jwaryang’s Bido flashed silver as it flew.
Clang!
The Bido rebounded with a sharp metallic ring.
Yet it was not a complete failure.
Though he could not stop the enemy bearing down on Isong, he had succeeded in slowing the attack.
Isong did not waste that brief opening.
He reset his stance and blocked the enemy’s successive assaults.
But this did not mean Isong, Dongpil, and Jwaryang could hold their ground.
With enemy numbers already high and now swelling further, and these reinforcements possessed formidable skill, losses were unavoidable.
As Heejun watched these newcomers driving back the Jeoksajjo members, a sound like a groan escaped his lips.
“Milgwi!”
With the character for “secret” inscribed across the center of their inverted masks, they proved themselves to be the Hyeolgwidaе’s “official” strongest sword-ghosts.
So powerful that even Maenguidan had issued a military order forbidding engagement with any unit not of Maenguidae’s ranks.
Yet unofficially, that order did not apply to Jeoksajjo.
Because Jeoksajjo harbored a ghost that devoured Milgwi.
Shhrrrrring, a sickening slice.
After the sound of something flowing across steel came a shudder of cutting, and blood sprayed.
And Youmyeong, the blade of Salrang—the ghost that devours Milgwi—began to seek death.
In half a heartbeat, twenty-seven lives lay severed upon the ground.
Isong, having confirmed each corpse one by one, turned to look at Ryu.
“Twenty-one Hyeolhyeol Unit members, six Milgwi.”
He was not counting to tally merit or confirm the kill.
Milgwi roam in no fixed number, but every Hyeolhyeol Unit is always thirty strong.
That meant nine more Hyeolhyeol Unit members remained somewhere.
And those nine, left behind, would surely surveil and pursue Jeoksajjo from afar, draw reinforcements for revenge to their side.
Dongpil voiced this concern.
“Wouldn’t it be better to slip away before they commit more forces?”
Isong nodded in agreement with Dongpil’s view and added his own words.
“I’m with him on that. If they move in earnest, we’ll be in real danger.”
Light rain soaks clothes all the same, and one fist cannot overcome ten. That was the way of things.
Even with Ryu’s strength and their capable support, there were limits to what they could endure.
Yet Ryu, who knew this better than anyone, shook his head this time.
And the reason flowed from his lips at once.
“Only six Milgwi. Whoever sent us to retrieve someone must be a man of consequence.”
“The problem is we could lose our heads trying to save this important man,” Dongpil muttered.
Ryu answered his complaint with a calm expression.
“Then we’ll have to move quickly.”
Isong’s worry cut through.
“That’s all well and good for us, but can we manage it with them in tow?”
Ryu’s eyes narrowed as he looked at the recruits receiving treatment from Heejun—or more precisely, the four of them minus Yoon, who had been excluded from combat.
Watching him, Heejun shook his head.
“Movement is possible, but combat isn’t. Especially the new recruit with the large axe—he’s pushed his Naelyeok too hard, and his internal injuries run deep. If he doesn’t receive proper treatment soon, he’ll have to prepare himself for a damaged Danjeon.”
Ryu’s gaze fell upon Cheolja Yong, whose face had gone ashen at those words.
It had been only a moment before Ryu stepped in. Such grievous injury in so short a span of fighting….
And it troubled him greatly that Cheolja Yong sustained such wounds not while fighting alone and driving enemies back, but while defending alongside his comrades, when his attention had wavered for just an instant.
Whatever the case, Ryu placed absolute faith in Heejun’s judgment regarding the wounded’s condition, leaving him only one decision to make.
“Ugh… if Heejun says so, there’s nothing for it. We withdraw.”
The moment Ryu’s decision fell, the unit members began moving with purpose.
They took what was needed from the corpses scattered about and erased all traces of themselves.
Meager as it might seem, they gathered intelligence and supplies that might prove useful in their escape, and concealed their identities.
Whether or not there were watchers in the shadows, their identities had been laid bare, and there was nothing good about that.
Having thus swept the area clean, the Jeoksajjo withdrew swiftly.
Half a watch after the Jeoksajjo’s departure, dozens of figures bearing the character for “secret” embroidered on their masks appeared in that place.
“Judging by the marks left on the corpses, it’s definitely him.”
Though they called him “that man,” not a single member of the Milgwi was ignorant of whom they meant.
The one whose mask bore a golden secret character, unlike the others, knew it equally well.
“Grrr! We’ll capture that slippery wretch today, no matter what. Move!”
At his grinding command, well over fifty members of the Milgwi launched themselves in unison toward the direction the Jeoksajjo had gone.
Retreat is always faster than pursuit.
More so when retracing the path you’ve already traveled.
The problem was that speed gained imposed an ever-steeper toll on the body’s endurance.
Especially when moving continuously with the aid of Naelyeok, and having just endured fierce combat followed by wounds—such a burden becomes lethal.
Though they paused briefly because of Cheolja Yong, who stumbled and heaved for breath, Paeng Gyeong, Hwangbo Jangseong, and Gwak Giryang were no less exhausted.
Those accustomed to relying on Naelyeok reached their limits far too quickly once that well ran dry.
Observing them, Dongpil let loose a rebuke.
“I spotted it from the start—the way you squandered your Naelyeok without a second thought in daily life. Did you think we kept our heads because we were so clever, or because we made do with our bodies instead of burning through our reserves?”
Only then did the new recruits understand why those veterans had never drawn on Naelyeok during ordinary movement, and their faces flushed crimson.
They were ashamed of having mocked such conduct as foolish.
To them came the measured voice of Isong.
“On a battlefield, you never know what situation might unfold. Whether in an operation or at garrison—use your body instead of Naelyeok whenever possible. It builds your strength and will serve to protect your lives.”
Though it came late, he offered this counsel knowing that such wisdom, when delivered in the crucible of experience, becomes bone and marrow.
At the tail of Isong’s words, Dongpil added a further barb.
“And keep your gear close!”
Isong, catching that it was more than mere reproach, smiled faintly at Dongpil before his measured voice continued, elaborating further.
“During operations where you can’t perform Ungi Josik, sleep as little as possible. When muscles stiffen and blood cools, exhaustion comes easily. To compensate, you’ll burn through more Naelyeok, and when real combat demands it, as today, you’ll find that Naelyeok desperately needed—gone. Stiffened muscles won’t move as they do in training, so your actions grow sluggish. That much needs no explanation.”
Among the new recruits, who now couldn’t even lift their heads, Yun’s voice cut sharp as an accusation.
“Then why didn’t you tell us beforehand?”
“Would you have listened if I had?”
At Isong’s counter, Yun had no ready answer.
Gwak Giryang was always cautious, and Yun received his guidance; as for herself she couldn’t say, but from what she’d observed these past days, the other three recruits had shown no such potential for learning.
Knowing this, Isong continued his explanation to a silent Yun.
“And one more thing. If you don’t change that tone of yours, you’ll be killed by your seniors long before you’re killed by an enemy—or else tormented until you wish you were dead.”
At those words, Yun’s eyes shifted and locked directly with Jwaryang’s cold, piercing stare.
Gooseflesh erupted across her skin, and cold sweat ran down her spine.
She had glimpsed genuine killing intent in Jwaryang’s gaze.
For that reason, Yun found herself involuntarily bowing her head low.
A voice broke through the heavy silence that had settled—from Dongpil.
“Damn. They’ve caught up. We’ve got company closing in.”
At those words, all eyes turned toward Heejun.
Heejun confirmed that Cheolja Yong still labored for breath, then shook his head.
A close pursuit always carries danger.
There is always the risk of exposing your unguarded back to enemies who’ve drawn near.
So when the enemy draws this close, protocol calls for a frontal clash to break their momentum before withdrawing.
Until now, the Jeoksajjo had always adhered to this principle.
But with comrades bearing such grievous wounds, it was impossible to do so.
A head-on clash followed by immediate withdrawal demanded lightning-swift agility—something they couldn’t muster in their current state.
It would require far greater speed than usual.
In the end, Heejun’s hesitation gave way to a nod, and once Isong confirmed it, he turned to the others.
“Breaking through and withdrawing is impossible in our current situation. So we move as fast as we can and slip away.”
At Isong’s words, the group resumed their frantic preparations.
From among them, Isong turned and offered his back to Cheolja Yong.
“What?”
Cheolja Yong stared at him in confusion, and Isong replied.
“I assume you know how to perform the Wagong technique. Don’t dare tell me you can’t do it while carried on someone’s back—because if you do, I’ll leave you behind.”
Understanding what those words meant, Cheolja Yong looked bewildered at Isong’s back, when another back presented itself.
“I’ll take him.”
At Jang Minsu’s words, Isong smiled slightly and stepped aside.
Urged by his insistence, Cheolja Yong released a small sigh, climbed onto Jang Minsu’s back, and the Jeoksajjo moved swiftly once more, this time with Dongpil leading the way.
Half a watch after they’d gone.
The Milgwi, led by the figure bearing the golden secret character on his mask, came pouring in.
When they arrived at the location, one of the nine Hyeolhyeolgwi that Jeoksajjo had lost in the initial clash revealed himself.
“Hyeolhyeol Unit 357 greets Geummil.”
Geummil, who had acknowledged Hyeolhyeol Unit 357’s respectful bow with a nod, posed a question.
“Where are they?”
“Fleeing toward the Southeastern Direction. Eight Hyeolhyeolgwi are pursuing them from different positions.”
It was to prevent them from being annihilated if their position was discovered.
“How much distance?”
“About half a quarter of an hour.”
“We haven’t time to rest. After them now!”
At Geummil’s command, the Milgwi members who had been catching their breath simultaneously took to the air once more.
Geummil stood at the head of their formation, guided by Hyeolhyeol Unit 357.

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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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