Episode 1. One Move to Survive

by God of Music · 2026-08-31

"Infinite Celestial Venerable."

A low but clear voice echoed in the open space in front of the Janitor's Hall.

Jin Mu-hyun swallowed a yawn.

Morning assembly was always boring. The head of the Janitor's Hall would clear his throat, recite the day's assignments, and then everyone would disperse to their posts, and it would be over. It was a routine that had been repeated day after day for several years. But today, a new face stood at the front of the assembly. A gray-blue robe with a blue sash. It was the attire of an outer disciple. The head of the Janitor's Hall stood beside him, looking twice as solemn as usual.

"I am Yoo Cheong-ak, an outer disciple belonging to the Hwasan Outer Hall."

The middle-aged man slowly surveyed those gathered, his hands clasped behind his back. His gaze was calm, but he couldn't hide the underlying tension.

"Though we live under the same Hwasan sky every day, it's rare for us to see each other in one place like this. Today, however, I am compelled to stand before you."

Mu-hyun unconsciously straightened his back.

It was unheard of for an outer disciple from the Outer Hall to directly attend the Janitor's Hall assembly. At least, not once in the several years Mu-hyun had served as a doorkeeper at the Guest Hall.

The Hwasan Sect. A sword sect of the Nine Great Schools and One Alliance, rooted in Mount Hwasan in the Seomseo region. Its western Guest Hall was a place where wanderers from the martial world, renowned martial artists, and even local merchant lords constantly visited, and Mu-hyun was the doorkeeper of that Guest Hall. His official title was Mountain Gate Guard, affiliated with the Janitor's Hall. The name sounded quite impressive, but all he did was change into his uniform in the morning, stand at his designated post, and then go home when the sun set. Befitting a prestigious sword sect, even guards were issued a sword, but Mu-hyun couldn't remember the last time he had drawn the sword at his hip. It was natural. He had never learned swordsmanship.

That Guest Hall had been closed for three days.

Yesterday afternoon, during his shift, Jin-gon, who sat next to him, had asked in a low voice.

"Mu-hyeon, do you know why the guesthouse has become so deserted these days?"

"Well, how would someone like me know such things?"

"According to rumors, the great war between the righteous and the evil is not far off."

The great war between the righteous and the evil. These four characters were something no one who made a living in the martial world could take lightly. When the righteous and the evil clashed head-on, a storm of blood would rage. And that storm of blood would first sweep away and swallow those standing in the lowest places, rather than those in high positions.

He had thought, "No way." In just one day, that "no way" stood before his eyes.

"Some of you may have already heard the rumors."

Yu Cheong-ak continued.

"The situation in the martial world is not ordinary. The long-standing tension between the righteous and the evil has reached a point where it can no longer be concealed, and each sect has begun to move in preparation for any eventuality. Hwasan is no exception. The sect leader has ordered us to strengthen the internal defenses, and the outer hall and the miscellaneous duties hall will also be reorganized according to a wartime system."

Wartime system.

The open space stirred. Mu-hyeon swallowed deeply once, instead of dry saliva.

"The rules for entering and exiting the guesthouse will become stricter, and the deployment of mountain gate guards and security personnel in various places will be readjusted. Depending on the situation, personnel from the miscellaneous duties hall may also be mobilized for rear support, supply transport, and transporting the wounded. And..."

Yu Cheong-ak paused for a moment. In that single beat, the air in the open space settled heavily.

"For the next month, all gatekeepers belonging to the Miscellaneous Affairs Party will learn basic sword manipulation and formation support techniques."

A look of bewilderment spread here and there.

Sword manipulation. That meant that they might actually have to wield a sword.

Muhyeon looked down at the sword at his waist. The object, which he usually carried around like an ornament, felt unusually heavy today.

Even after Yu Cheong-ak left, no one spoke for a while. The gatekeepers were naturally taciturn, and the miscellaneous workers didn't have the guts to speak up in front of their superiors. But the current silence wasn't due to being tight-lipped.

It was fear.

The Orthodox-Demonic War was no longer someone else's problem. Its repercussions had begun to reach even the lowest-ranking miscellaneous workers of Mount Hwasan.

The head of the Miscellaneous Affairs Party stepped forward.

"Training starts today. All gatekeepers, as soon as your morning shift ends, gather at the open ground west of the training field. People from the Outer Sect will come directly. Not a single person should be missing."

Jingon, standing next to him, muttered softly.

"This, it seems quite unusual."

"Yes. I never thought they'd even teach sword techniques."

"It would be fortunate if they only made us run errands in the rear."

His voice trailed off. Muhyeon didn't bother to respond either. Both of them knew. The more chaotic the world became, the first to be cheaply used were the hands and feet of nameless low-ranking individuals.

That afternoon, the gatekeepers gathered in the open ground, all with heavy expressions.

It was usually where the outer hall warriors warmed up. Today, guards stood in a line on one side, and two outer hall warriors stood on the opposite side, arms crossed, watching them. Mu-hyeon fiddled with his scabbard for no reason. He had always carried the sword, but had never properly held it. Far from being accustomed to it, it felt awkward, as if he had borrowed someone else's item.

"Line up! What do you intend to do standing crookedly!"

A booming shout erupted.

The man at the front was a robust warrior in his mid-forties. A square jaw, sharp eyes, and deep wrinkles between his brows. At a glance, his temper was not to be trifled with. The young warrior beside him spoke in a low voice.

"That is Great Hero Wang Cheol-san, the instructor of the outer hall. He will personally oversee today's training."

The instructor himself. The guards hastily straightened their backs.

Wang Cheol-san slowly walked in front of the line, scrutinizing each face. There was not an iota of expectation in his eyes.

"Good. Very good."

A sneer escaped him.

"Miscellaneous Affairs Hall, Mountain Gate Guard, Guest Hall Gatekeeper. The names are grand, but judging by their appearance, most of them probably haven't even properly held a kitchen knife, let alone a sword."

Several lowered their gazes. Mu-hyeon was no different. It wasn't wrong, after all.

Wang Cheol-san suddenly extended his hand.

"Draw your swords."

An awkward silence fell over the open space.

Clank.

Clatter.

Scrape.

The sound of swords being drawn belatedly followed in a chaotic sequence from various places. Someone fumbled, caught on their scabbard, and someone else half-drew it only to push it back in. There was even someone who staggered while drawing, unable to control their strength.

"Is this the state of those who guard the mountain gate of a sword sect?"

Everyone's shoulders flinched.

Mu-hyeon finally drew his sword. It was an unfamiliar sensation. The blade was longer than he expected, and heavier than he expected. It felt like a completely different object when it was at his waist compared to when it was in his hand.

Wang Cheol-san stopped in front of Mu-hyeon.

"Name."

"J-Jin Mu-hyeon."

"Jin Mu-hyeon."

He glanced at Mu-hyeon's hand and snorted.

"The hand holding the sword is like a dead fish. There's no strength in your wrist, and your shoulders are stiff. If you hold it like that, you won't be able to cut anyone, and your wrist will give out first."

His face flushed red. He was embarrassed, felt wronged, but had nothing to say in rebuttal.

Wang Cheol-san raised his voice.

"Listen carefully! You are not becoming swordsmen starting today. You don't have the talent for it, nor the time. I will teach you only three things. First, how to draw a sword. Second, how to thrust forward. Third, how to not disrupt the formation when among others."

His voice, as he looked around the open ground, was like ice.

"Remember this. In battle, grand techniques are not necessary. What people like you need to do is simply fill the numbers so the front line doesn't collapse. If you're lucky, you live. If you're unlucky, you die. That's all."

A suffocating silence descended.

He had an inkling. Still, hearing it so bluntly made him feel strange. He found himself ridiculous for having briefly hoped he might learn something, thinking it was training. This training was not to make them warriors. It was merely the minimum preparation to ensure their blades didn't turn on their own side.

"Stance!"

With the shout, everyone hastily raised their swords.

"Your foot width is wrong! Left foot half a step forward! Relax your shoulders! Straighten your back! Don't bend your wrist!"

Critiques poured out relentlessly. Mu-hyeon's arm, which had been clumsily aiming his sword, began to tremble after only a few attempts. He hadn't even swung it. He had merely stood there, aiming it forward, but his palms were tingling and his forearm felt like it was burning.

"Jin Mu-hyeon!"

Thwack.

The tip of Wang Cheol-san's scabbard struck his elbow. Even though it was a light tap, his teeth clenched involuntarily.

"If you extend your elbow too much, it will break. If you don't want to die, relax and endure."

"Yes!"

He answered, but even correcting his posture was not easy. Beside him, Jin Gon mumbled, his face flushed red and his teeth clenched.

"This is no ordinary task."

There was no time to reply. If he added even a single word, his breathing would collapse.

"Good. Ten thrusts."

Wang Cheol-san commanded briefly.

"Step forward and thrust! Don't overthink it. Think of it as thrusting wherever it touches first, be it the neck, chest, or stomach!"

The guards' swords awkwardly extended forward. Their feet and hands were out of sync, and their sword tips wandered in the air. Some even stumbled, tripping over their own feet as they stepped forward.

"You imbeciles!"

A shout shook the empty lot.

"This isn't a game! Your opponent won't just stand there and let you stab them! Imagine your head being cut off the moment you hesitate!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Wang Cheol-san stepped forward himself.

He had only taken a very short step. But at that moment, the tip of his sword was already cutting through the air.

Swish.

A short, simple movement. Yet, it was unusually fast.

Mu-hyeon unconsciously held his breath. It wasn't a grand technique. It was just a single thrust forward, but it was completely different from the movements they had been imitating until now. There was no wasted motion, no hesitation.

"Did you see that?"

Wang Cheol-san said coldly.

"This is what you must learn. Not a flashy sword technique. It is a single movement for survival."

Those words resonated somewhere deep in his chest.

A single movement for survival.

Strangely, it sounded heavier than the phrase "sword technique."

"Again! Not ten times, but a hundred times! If you can't show me a proper thrust before sunset, you'll be dragged here before your morning shift ends starting tomorrow!"

Groans mixed with despair escaped, but no one openly complained.

Mu-hyeon re-gripped his sword. His palms stung from friction, his arms felt heavy, and his shoulders were stiff as stone. Yet, there was a different sensation than before. The sword was still unfamiliar and frightening. However, he had finally realized it. This sword was not an ornament. It might soon have to be wielded against a person.

He slowly inhaled. Then, as Wang Cheol-san had shown, he took a half-step forward with his left foot. The tip of the sword extended straight forward, albeit weakly. It was clumsy and slow, but better than before.

Wang Cheol-san glanced at him and then moved on to the next person without a word. There was neither praise nor scolding. That indifferent silence felt even heavier.

The training ended only when the sun began to set in the west. Rather than ending, it was closer to Wang Cheol-san waving his hand with a look that implied they weren't worth teaching anymore.

"That's all for today. Starting tomorrow, you'll begin with a hundred thrusts and a hundred footwork drills. If your posture falters again, know that I'll break your wrist first."

As the instructor and the outer hall warriors left, suppressed breaths burst out from various spots in the clearing.

Mu-hyeon barely managed to slide his sword into its scabbard and looked down at his palms. The reddened, chafed skin was peeling in places. His calloused-free finger joints throbbed.

"Hmph. This is truly going to kill someone."

Jin-gon groaned, rubbing his back.

"Brother, you're still a bit better, aren't you? My arm doesn't even feel like my own."

"It's the same for me. Right now, if someone just nudges me from behind, I feel like I'd collapse immediately."

The two, along with the other guards, exited the clearing. The just-set sun was painting the ridges of Mount Hwa-san red. A cool evening breeze blew down the mountain path.

After walking in silence for a while, Jin-gon spoke.

"You heard what Instructor Wang said earlier, didn't you?"

"Yes. He said he had no intention of making us swordsmen."

"Exactly. Far from swordsmen, he sees us as mere numbers to stand in the front line so it doesn't collapse."

A bitter smile escaped him. It wasn't wrong. What they learned today wasn't how to wield a sword 멋있게, but rather how to at least not stab their own allies in the back.

Jin-gon looked up at the sky once.

"I also thought at first that they were just trying to scare us. I figured they'd give us a little basic training and that would be it, or have us carry supplies in the rear."

"I thought the same."

"But looking at them today, I don't think so. Those are eyes preparing for something. Unless they really intend to send people out, there's no reason to make people like us hold swords like that."

Instead of replying, I just looked down at my palms. They throbbed the whole way. But what bothered me more was Wang Cheol-san's words.

One movement to survive.

The short phrase kept echoing in my ears.

"Aren't you scared?"

I thought for a moment at Jin-gon's question, then answered honestly.

"I am scared. As you said, hyung-nim, someone like me would just be cannon fodder on the battlefield. The sword doesn't fit my hand, and I can't even properly do the one thing they told me to stab."

"..."

"But strangely, I also think it's better than dying without doing anything at all."

"What do you mean?"

"When we learned to stab today. It was really nothing special, but wouldn't it be possible to at least struggle to survive once? Even if I'm going to die, I don't want to just stand there and offer my neck."

Jin-gon slowed his steps and looked back.

"You have a more tenacious side than I thought."

"It's not tenacity, it's just that I'm very scared."

"Haha. Those who are scared often live longer."

I laughed along, but the laughter didn't last long.

The fork in the road at the bottom of the mountain was approaching. Jin-gon had to go down to the village below Mount Hwa, to the house where his family was, and Mu-hyeon had to return to the shabby thatched hut behind the inn.

At the fork, Jin-gon stopped.

"Mu-hyeon, you."

"Yes, hyung-nim."

Jin-gon hesitated for a moment, then looked around and lowered his voice.

"Run away."

"…Pardon?"

"Just don't come out starting tomorrow. Leave Mount Hwa. Far, very far away."

Mu-hyeon's eyes wavered.

Jin-gon smiled bitterly.

"Honestly, tell me. You felt it too, didn't you? That's not basic training; it's the final polish before throwing people into battle. Guys like you, guys like me, will be put on the front line when the time comes."

"Brother, then why do you—"

"I can't go."

The answer was brief.

"I have people at home. An old mother, and young siblings. If I disappear, those children might also suffer. But you are different, aren't you?"

Mu-hyeon had no family. His father and mother had passed away long ago, and even the grandmother who raised him closed her eyes last year. There were no wife and children to hold onto, no family to return to and ask after. If he made up his mind, he could pack a single bag and descend Mount Hwa at dawn tomorrow. No one would miss one gatekeeper disappearing.

Jin-gon looked directly at Mu-hyeon.

"If you can live, you should live. Why should you die a dog's death in a place like this?"

Run away.

Those two words were strangely clear, etched into his heart.

Yet, he couldn't speak.

To Mu-hyeon, Mount Hwa was less a sect and more life itself. Though he couldn't become a disciple, he ate, slept, and endured each day here. Leaving wasn't just moving to another place; it was severing the entire life he had lived until now.

"…I'll think about it."

That was all he said after a long while.

Jin-gon didn't press him further.

"Alright. Think it over carefully tonight. If you hesitate and are late with something like this, it's over."