When the Northern Sea Dries Up (1)
Galsaryang spent the entire night engrossed in the pages of the “Guimundunseo.”
He had known it was an extraordinary book, but he hadn’t anticipated the depth and breadth of its content. As he delved into its profound and comprehensive teachings on military formations, he felt a thrilling intellectual satisfaction coursing through him.
Even in this process, Galsaryang’s practical nature shone through.
After skimming through the entire book, he decided to focus on mastering one formation he deemed essential.
No matter how impressive a formation might be, what use was it if he couldn’t apply it? Galsaryang believed the wisest approach was to gradually increase the number of formations he could actually use. His years of experience as a military strategist had ingrained this practical mindset in him.
“Ahh.”
Galsaryang stretched, noticing the faint light of dawn creeping in through the window.
He turned to see that Byeokridan’s bed was empty.
“Where could he have gone?”
He had been so absorbed in the book that he hadn’t noticed Byeokridan leaving. The book was so thought-provoking that he hadn’t paid attention to his surroundings.
Galsaryang rose from his seat and stepped outside.
Byeokridan stood in the front yard, gazing up at the distant sky.
“Did you sleep well?” Galsaryang greeted him.
Byeokridan turned his head and smiled. “Slept like a log.”
“I hope I didn’t disturb your rest with my reading.”
“Haha, not at all. I slept soundly.”
“That’s a relief. I didn’t even notice you getting up.”
Byeokridan looked at Galsaryang with concern. “Aren’t you tired?”
“I’m fine.”
Byeokridan handed him a small pill from his pocket. “This will help clear your mind and ease your fatigue. Go on, take it.”
Though Galsaryang insisted he was fine, Byeokridan urged him again. He took the pill, and whether it was the placebo effect or not, he felt refreshed.
“Medicine is good, but eating well and staying active is important too.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Byeokridan turned his gaze back to the sky.
“What are you looking at so intently?” Galsaryang asked.
“Do you see that tree over there?”
Beyond several fences, a tree was visible in the distance.
“Yes, I see it.”
“I was watching that.”
“Why?”
“I thought I saw someone hiding among the branches, watching us. I wasn’t sure, but when you came out, it became clear.”
“What do you mean, clear?” Galsaryang asked, puzzled.
Byeokridan grinned.
With a swift motion, he launched himself into the air. He truly flew, leaping from one fence to the next, covering the distance in an instant.
To Galsaryang, it seemed as if Byeokridan had vanished in a flash, only to reappear at the tree he had pointed out.
Something flew at Byeokridan from between the branches.
Swish! Swish!
Two daggers hurtled toward him.
Byeokridan twisted his body mid-air, narrowly avoiding the blades as they grazed his shoulder and waist.
The assailant was Bisal.
With a whoosh, Bisal leaped from the branches into the air. He hadn’t expected this.
The distance Byeokridan had covered was so great that hiding in the branches seemed unnecessary. Bisal, known for his keen eyesight among the assassins, had been watching Galsaryang from afar.
Even as dawn broke, Dokya had not returned.
Bisal was next in line. Assassins rarely worked together. Unless they were part of a team, working together often reduced efficiency, so they always operated alone.
He didn’t particularly like Dokya, but he respected his exceptional skills in stealth and assassination.
Dokya’s failure to return meant he had been defeated.
Bisal had been monitoring the situation, trying to understand what had happened.
Then, someone from afar had flown toward him.
Moreover, this person had dodged his daggers mid-air. It was astonishing to see someone avoid such an attack while airborne, something even difficult to do on solid ground.
What was even more surprising was that after dodging the daggers, Byeokridan had reached the tree, pushed off the branches, and was now pursuing him.
Bisal threw more daggers in the air, aiming at the approaching figure.
Shing! Shing! Shing!
This was his most confident move. Given the angle of attack from above, he was sure it couldn’t be avoided. His exposure in the air was a testament to his confidence.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The dozens of daggers were deflected in all directions. Even if one practiced deliberately, it seemed impossible to deflect them so perfectly.
“Impressive!”
The opponent’s sword gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting a dazzling light.
The sword that deflected the daggers flew straight, piercing Bisal’s heart.
Thud!
Finally, Bisal saw the face of his opponent, who had flown with the sword. It was a remarkably young face.
Only then did Bisal realize. This young master had flown from a barely visible distance, without pausing for a moment. In one fluid motion, he had dodged the daggers, deflected the blades, and driven his sword into Bisal’s heart.
“Yes, for a master of this caliber…”
And with that, Bisal died without regret.
Galsaryang stood in the yard, waiting for me.
He asked, his face a mix of surprise and concern, “What on earth happened?”
“It was an assassin.”
“My goodness!”
The fact that there was an assassin was shocking enough, but the fact that Byeokridan had spotted him from here was even more astonishing. Of course, what was most surprising was how he had flown over as if on a casual stroll, dealt with the assassin, and returned.
“Assassins must not be left alive,” I said firmly. It was a survival lesson learned from countless encounters with assassins in my past life.
Assassins exist solely to kill their targets. The only way they prove their existence is by succeeding in their mission. If left unchecked, they would strike at Galsaryang at an unexpected moment. To avoid leaving any regrets, they must be eliminated when the opportunity arises.
“You are far more skilled than I imagined,” Galsaryang remarked.
“Perhaps,” I replied.
I had deliberately displayed my skills in front of Galsaryang. He needed to know that I was more capable than he thought.
I also gave him a warning.
“Soon, the real threat will come. Be prepared.”
Galsaryang nodded, determination in his eyes. “Yes, I will prepare in my own way.”
“Dokya and Bisal have not returned.”
Cheolgyeol’s somber report did not surprise Heukseok. It was as if she had anticipated such news.
“Do you understand now why I insisted on being cautious?”
“Yes, but…”
Cheolgyeol swallowed his words.
“If I go, it will be different.”
But he couldn’t say it. Not because Heukseok’s expression clearly conveyed, “It will be the same even if you go,” but because Cheolgyeol himself was shocked. He hadn’t expected Dokya and Bisal to fail, let alone consecutively in one night.
“What will you do now?”
Heukseok rose from her seat and walked to the window. They were in a guest room near the main headquarters of the Martial Alliance.
“We will secure Galsaryang.”
If the opponent was this strong, it was time to change tactics.
“We’ve been deceived. We thought this was our hunting ground, but it was his fishing pond. Damn it! We need to lure this damned fisherman away from the water.”
Cheolgyeol spoke with resolve. “I’ll go.”
It wasn’t loyalty; it was a fighting spirit. He was the type who had to fight when he saw a strong opponent. He was addicted to the thrill of defeating powerful foes. But now, that desire was being constantly thwarted.
Heukseok turned to him, her gaze icy. “Do you really want to die that badly? Why not let me kill you instead?”
“Then what do you plan to do?”
“Request the Bukmyeongdae.”
Cheolgyeol was taken aback by the mention of Bukmyeongdae. Meaning “Northern Sea,” Bukmyeongdae was the elite force of the organization. Not only were they strong, but they also had the characteristics of a regular military force within the organization. In other words, they were the troops to be deployed in the event of war.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
“Permission won’t be granted.”
“Ask for it. If you explain the situation here, they’ll grant it.”
“But…”
“Tell them I’ll take responsibility if it fails.”
Cheolgyeol realized that she was staking everything on this. After all, she was cornered by consecutive failures. She had to produce results this time, no matter what.
“Even if permission is granted, there’s a problem. Galsaryang hasn’t left the Martial Alliance’s inner sanctum. Surely you don’t plan to storm the Martial Alliance with Bukmyeongdae?”
“Of course, we can’t start a war with the Martial Alliance.”
Heukseok’s gaze returned to the window. Her eyes, fixed on the distant Martial Alliance building, burned with intensity.
“There is a way to lure Galsaryang out.”
Ten days later, at dawn, a carriage discreetly left the Martial Alliance.
It was the carriage used by the Chief Strategist himself.
Gwangwoldanju Jucheolryong had sent an urgent message, requesting a meeting outside.
Clip-clop, clip-clop.
As the carriage left the main road and entered a secluded area, a group of men blocked its path.
The men wore red martial uniforms.
From the left, right, and rear of the carriage, more men in red appeared. Their numbers reached a hundred, and their uniforms were so vividly red that it seemed as if flames were surrounding them.
These were the Bukmyeongdae.
Jong Hwon, the leader of Bukmyeongdae, stepped forward. He was a man who wore his crimson robes with an air of authority, exuding a cold and sharp presence that was almost palpable.
The warriors of Bukmyeongdae were unlike any ordinary fighters. Their eyes, filled with a fierce intensity, revealed the rigorous training they had undergone.
Jong Hwon spoke in a low voice.
“Get down.”
Though he spoke softly from a distance, his voice carried clearly to the carriage, a testament to his extraordinary inner strength.
Yet, no one emerged from the carriage.
With a nod from Jong Hwon, several of his men leaped towards the carriage, approaching it cautiously.
One of them shouted, “There’s no one in the carriage!”
Jong Hwon frowned. “Clever little rat! It seems they’ve caught on.”
Despite the frustration of a wasted effort, he showed no sign of lingering regret.
“Kill the driver and burn the carriage.”
“Yes, sir!”
He had just turned and taken two steps when—
Thud! Thud! Thud!
A series of dull thuds echoed.
Jong Hwon halted, sensing something amiss.
‘If my men killed the driver, they would have used their swords. What was that sound?’
He turned slowly, and what he saw was astonishing.
One of his men was sliding off the driver’s seat, collapsing to the ground. Two others were already down.
Another warrior lunged with his sword.
Swish!
The blade narrowly missed the driver’s face.
In response, the driver’s elbow struck the attacker’s jaw with precision.
Thud!
The man was sent flying, crashing to the ground. Normally, he would have sprung back up, but he lay motionless, lifeless. It was an unbelievable sight, given the skill of Jong Hwon’s men.
The driver finally spoke, looking at Jong Hwon.
“If your target isn’t here, you should just leave. Why kill an innocent driver?”
His voice was low, yet it reached Jong Hwon clearly.
Jong Hwon was taken aback. “It’s you!”
He never imagined that the hidden master aiding Galsaryang would be disguised as a mere driver of an empty carriage.
Indeed, the driver was none other than Byeok Lidan. His face was obscured by the wide-brimmed hat typically worn by drivers.
Jong Hwon, exuding a menacing aura, spoke with a hint of mockery.
“Do you really think you can protect Galsaryang with tricks like this?”
At the same time, two figures were making their way into the inner sanctum of the Martial Alliance.
Surprisingly, they were Heukseok and Cheol Gyeol.
Thanks to the influence of Gwangwol’s leader, Ju Cheolryong, they had been granted passage without any hindrance. They held permits allowing them to move freely within the inner sanctum, except for the leader’s quarters.
They stopped in front of the emergency operations room of the Justice Pavilion. Being deep within the inner sanctum, there were no guards stationed here.
“As you predicted, Galsaryang wasn’t in the carriage.”
“Of course. That clever fox wouldn’t fall for such an obvious trap.”
He must have set a trap of his own, hiding here while drawing their main forces elsewhere.
“They might think we’re fools for taking out a few of their men, but I’m no idiot. Go and capture Galsaryang.”
“Yes, sir.”
With a sense of purpose, Cheol Gyeol strode into the building, as if he had been waiting for this moment.