Episode 4. Nakaegok Valley

by God of Music · 2026-08-31

The procession marched for a full day.

As the mountain path ended and they entered the main road, the scenery along the roadside came into view. Inns with closed doors, village homes packing up to leave, people working in the fields stopping to watch the procession. In their eyes, fear preceded curiosity. Those who worked the soil understood better what it meant for an armed procession to pass by.

At night, they camped in the wilderness at the edge of the plains. The shadows of the lay disciples on night watch moved around the campfire, and the common soldiers huddled between the baggage carts, sleeping in cramped positions. Mu-hyeon also leaned his back against Jin-gon's and closed his eyes, but even in his sleep, his hand did not stray far from the sword hilt.

He woke in the middle of the night to find Jin-gon sitting, gazing at the campfire.

"Aren't you sleeping?"

"I'd sleep if I could."

Jin-gon poked at the embers and chuckled softly.

"It's strange. Now that I'm actually out here, rather than being scared, I'm more worried about home. Did I stack enough firewood, do my youngest's shoes still fit, things like that."

Mu-hyeon couldn't find a reply. He didn't quite know what it was like to have a home to worry about. He only vaguely understood that such worries could keep a person alive, and also prevent them from running away.

"Sleep. We have to walk again tomorrow."

Jin-gon turned his back first, and Mu-hyeon closed his eyes again.

The next day, the procession joined another group at the entrance to a flat plain.

They were the soldiers of Jin-ga-bo.

Gathered under the banner of the noble family, they were quite different from the people Mu-hyeon had seen so far. Their bodies were generally larger, their limbs thicker, and each of them was equipped with armor or protective gear. Their weapons were also diverse, ranging from spears, swords, long-handled weapons, iron clubs, to chain weapons.

If the secular disciples of Mount Hua were neatly equipped mainly with swords and sabers, these people looked as if they had brought whatever was necessary to survive in real combat.

He could tell at a glance.

Those people were different.

They were individuals who had experienced many battlefields. Their very posture was different. The way they walked, the way their eyes scanned their surroundings, their attitude when gripping their weapons, even their moments of rest were without flaw. Unlike them, who had been hastily dragged here and merely held swords for formality, these were people accustomed to cutting down others for a living.

As Mu-hyeon's group stared blankly, Ju Myeong-su snorted.

"Is this your first time seeing them?"

When no one answered, he pointed in their direction with his chin.

"Those are mercenaries."

"Mercenaries, you say?"

Someone cautiously repeated the question, and Ju Myeong-su nodded.

"Yes. The noble families have money. They settle near bustling commercial areas and accumulate wealth through trade, escort services, and land speculation, so at times like these, they can gather a lot of mercenaries. Our Nine Great Sects and One Alliance are different. Since we are in the mountains, our secular financial resources are not as abundant as the noble families. We have no choice but to squeeze our sect members and secular disciples as much as possible."

He added indifferently.

"Mercenaries have an uncanny ability to sniff out money. When there are signs of a major war and noble families are willing to spend big, they swarm like bees. Because they can get higher wages for the danger."

Jin-gon asked in a low voice.

"Then, are all those people accustomed to fighting?"

"It's more than just being accustomed."

Ju Myeong-su chuckled.

"They live by it. They fight, kill, survive, and get paid for it."

The moment he heard those words, the fight between the Ten Bloodwind Ghosts and the Wudang disciples he had seen in the marketplace came back to him. War, in the end, must be a place where such people clash. And he was merely an insignificant number, to be thrown into that fray.

Just then, a few mercenaries from the Jin Family Fortress glanced over.

Blatant mockery was in their eyes. Some shrugged their shoulders, some twisted their lips, and some even spoke loudly enough to be heard.

"They brought those kinds of people as soldiers, huh?"

"Has it been a month since they held a sword?"

"On the battlefield, they'll just be food for the unorthodox sects' blades."

Snickering laughter erupted.

Amidst the laughter, a bear-like man rode past on horseback. A long scar ran across his face, and a great saber was strapped to his back. From the way the mercenaries made way for him, he seemed to be their leader. The man scrutinized the procession of Mount Hua's杂卒 (miscellaneous soldiers) from head to toe, then dismissed them with a snort and rode on. That indifferent glance, just once, hurt more than the mocking laughter.

Mu-hyeon felt his face flush with heat.

He wanted to retort, but his mouth wouldn't open. It was because what they said wasn't wrong. Until recently, he was just a person standing at the gate. It had been barely a month since he held a sword. The very idea of someone like him going to war was laughable.

Ju Myeong-su showed no particular expression at his reaction. He merely spoke in a calm voice.

"If you don't want to hear such things, then survive. The battlefield is a place where you prove yourself with your body, not your mouth."

It was neither comfort nor encouragement. It was simply a dry fact.

The procession moved again.

A long line, a mix of Mount Hua's disciples, secular disciples, miscellaneous soldiers, and the Jin Family Fortress mercenaries, stretched along the road bathed in the sunset. Different banners fluttered under the red sky, and dust rose thickly from under their feet.

Mu-hyeon followed with heavy steps. In a corner of his chest, the stench of blood from the marketplace still lingered. The thought that this bloody stench was not someone else's problem but his own future choked him.

And on the third day, the battlefield unfolded before his eyes.

Nakaegok (Falling Cliff Valley).

The name echoed from somewhere in the procession. 낙 (nak) for 'fall,' 애 (ae) for 'cliff.' For a valley name, it was exceedingly ominous, Mu-hyeon thought.

Beside him, an elderly secular disciple muttered to himself.

"Nakaegok, huh. They say there was a big battle here about five hundred years ago too. The valley was supposedly filled with corpses even then."

"How do you know that?"

Someone asked, and the secular disciple shrugged.

"It's a story passed down from old folks. To choose such a place as a battlefield again, it's quite unsettling."

Who chose it? Mu-hyeon suddenly thought of that, then quickly dismissed it. It was not something a miscellaneous soldier needed to know, nor was it good to know.

The Murim Alliance's formation was spread out on a gentle highland. A long line of wooden palisades and shield formations stretched along the slope, and behind them, the banners of various sects and noble families fluttered in the wind. Mount Hua, Wudang, Jongnam, Namgung, Jin Family Fortress. Different names, but in this place, they were a single military formation.

Below the highland, a wide plain stretched out, and at its end, a deep gorge opened its mouth. Beyond the gorge, black cliffs extended, and from somewhere below, a constant sound like water thunder rose. Though unseen, there seemed to be a large stream or waterfall at the bottom of the precipice. With every gust of wind, a damp, watery stench mixed with the smell of dust.

Mount Hua's miscellaneous soldiers were positioned in the middle of the formation, behind the secular disciples.

The waiting time for orders was the longest and worst. With nothing to do, thoughts multiplied. Someone continuously drank water, someone mumbled the same prayer, and someone had been silently drawing something on the dirt ground with the tip of their sword.

Mu-hyeon half-drew his sword, then pushed it back in.

Clang.

That sound, which had echoed chaotically in the open field on the first day of training, now came out smoothly in one go. That was all a month had amounted to. Half a step with the left foot. Relax the shoulders. Straighten the waist. He repeated Wang Cheol-san's shouts inwardly, word by word. Since that was all he had learned, that was all he could cling to.

"Are you nervous?"

Jin-gon asked from beside him.

"Yes. My hands are sweating, and the sword hilt keeps slipping."

"Put some dirt on it. Didn't you do that when you did manual labor?"

Mu-hyeon rubbed dry dirt into his palms as instructed. That small action calmed his mind ever so slightly. Jin-gon was someone who knew such things.

Mu-hyeon's leisure to observe the terrain and the sound of water below ended there.

This was because the enemy's forces, filling the opposite hill and plain, were too clear.

It was a red flag.

Banners with a black sun emblem on a blood-red background rose here and there. Below them, groups in dark red clothes stood in lines, and on either side, gangs of various appearances were mixed.

"What is that flag with the black sun drawn on it?"

When someone asked, an older secular disciple nearby answered with a grim face.

"It's the Black Sun Cult. It's a new sect of the Demonic Path, and they say it's the financial backer and center of this邪派 (Sapa) alliance. Next to them are the Black Snake Gang, Blood Eagle Fortress, Broken Soul Gate, and Ghost Kill Valley. These are groups whose names alone can stop a child's crying."

Groups whose names alone sent shivers down one's spine were gathered together. Those at their center seemed more like beasts covered in the stench of blood than humans.

Under the red flag, a bizarre drumbeat began to echo.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

It was a low, heavy sound, like a fist pounding on one's heart.

At the same time, the enemy lines moved.

The soldiers in dark red clothes at the very front raised their spears and swords and advanced. Their steps were slow but unwavering. It was like a wave stained with blood rolling in. Behind them, the Sapa groups, each holding their weapons, laughed or shouted as they poured down. Some spun chain scythes, while others ran with serrated monstrous swords slung over their shoulders. Murderous intent and madness covered the plain.

"They're coming..."

Someone's trembling voice.

Orders also came from the Murim Alliance side.

"Maintain formation!"

"Shields forward!"

"Archers ready!"

The forces on the high ground tensed simultaneously. The sound of arrow-nocked bowstrings echoed in succession.

And a moment later, a more direct and cruel order was given.

"Secular disciples, auxiliary soldiers, mercenaries advance!"

Mu-hyeon's heart seized up.

It was an order to charge for them, that is, for the miscellaneous soldiers like himself and the mercenaries of the Jin Family Escort Agency.

The mercenaries in the front row rushed out, weapons in hand, as if they had been waiting. Excitement, rather than fear, was etched on their faces. Mu-hyeon's feet felt glued to the ground. Jin-gon roughly pulled his arm.

"Mu-hyeon! Run!"

Only then did he stumble forward.

The moment they descended the high ground, the world exploded.

First, a rain of arrows poured from the sky. Arrows from the Murim Alliance and arrows from the enemy lines intertwined in the air. Dull thuds of arrows hitting bodies, sounds of throats being pierced, and screams of people falling erupted simultaneously from all directions. One man running in front was hit by an arrow in the face and fell backward. Blood splattered.

"Aargh!"

Amidst the screams, the two front lines finally clashed.

Crash!

Shields collided with shields, and spear tips and blades rang out with metallic sounds. The sounds of people crashing into each other, bones breaking, and flesh tearing mixed together. Mu-hyeon ran blindly, following the back of the person in front, not even knowing how he was holding his sword.

Immediately, an enemy appeared before his eyes.

It was a soldier in dark red clothes. His eyes gleamed, and foam gathered at the corners of his mouth. As soon as he saw Mu-hyeon, he swung his sword without hesitation. Mu-hyeon screamed and ducked. The blade grazed over his head, scattering a few strands of hair.

Just then, Jin-gon screamed and threw himself sideways.

"Die!"

Jin-gon's sword diagonally slashed the soldier's side. But the opponent did not fall so easily. Even as he stumbled, he swung the short iron mace in his hand, and it struck Jin-gon's shoulder. With a dull thud, Jin-gon staggered.

There was no time to think.

Mu-hyeon raised his sword with both hands and brought it down.

Half a step with the left foot. That was the only thing his body remembered.

The blade awkwardly embedded itself in the soldier's neck. It wasn't deep. But with that one strike, the opponent collapsed. Hot blood splattered onto his face and lips.

His hands trembled blankly.

He had killed a person.

Before that fact could fully sink in, something else tore nearby.

"Agh!"

He turned to see a miscellaneous soldier from Mount Hua clutching his stomach and kneeling. Across from him, a Sapa member grinned, twisting and pulling out a long sword. The man tried to hold back what was spilling out with both hands, then fell face first.

The battlefield was a place where people died too quickly.

He couldn't even tell who had fallen, who was alive, or which side was being pushed back. Before his eyes, blood and flesh, severed arms and broken spear shafts, dust and screams were intertwined. A person who was alive a moment ago had no neck the next.

'I must stay close.'

Not losing sight of Jin-gon's back. That was all Mu-hyeon could do in this hell.

But then, a massive murderous aura descended upon the people.

The masters had joined the fray.

From somewhere, a blue sword light struck like lightning, and three dark-red-clad soldiers were simultaneously cut in half at the waist. On the opposite side, a Sapa master in a black robe soared as if treading on air, unleashing internal energy, and with that single blow, four Murim Alliance soldiers flew back, spitting blood. Mu-hyeon couldn't even see it. A flash of light, and the next instant, someone was dead.

The storm he had seen in the marketplace was now raging simultaneously in all directions.

And Mu-hyeon and Jin-gon were standing in the very eye of that storm.