TRHF 67

Chapter 67 Outbreak of War (3)

Namgung Jin had changed greatly.

Noticing this, Namgung Hyuk watched his departing back and thought to himself.

“I can sense how much he’s matured mentally. If he survives this battle, he’ll surely become even stronger.”

Perhaps it was because he possessed the memories of a past life that had spanned decades—
Namgung Hyuk now viewed Jin’s growth with the fond pride of an elder.

“And that sword art… he called it the Soul-Calling One Sword, didn’t he?
If he continues to polish it, it’ll become a far finer technique.”

Someday, he wanted to cross blades with Jin once the Soul-Calling One Sword was perfected.
But to reach that day, they would first have to survive the coming war against the Demonic Alliance (Sado-ryeon).

“Come to think of it—will Lady Jegal be all right?”

He had forgotten about Jegal Lin for a while because of Jin’s situation,
but after remembering the earlier incident, concern welled up again.

So Namgung Hyuk began looking for her.

“She’s not even in her tent…”

As the sun began to set and she still hadn’t appeared, he grew anxious.
He eventually resorted to using his movement arts, scouring the entire camp—but even then, there was no sign of her.

“Did she go outside the camp?”

It couldn’t have come at a worse time—he was the one assigned to guard her,
and the other two members of their squad were elsewhere.
If she had gone out alone, it was a serious matter.

Becoming more urgent, Namgung Hyuk widened his search radius.
At last, near a grove of reeds, he found her.

“What are you doing out here?”
His tone carried a hint of irritation as he approached.

“….”

Jegal Lin turned to face him.
Her expression was calm as usual—but one thing was different.
Her eyes were glistening.

The moment Namgung Hyuk saw those moist eyes, his earlier frustration at having searched so frantically for her melted away.

“Are you distressed because of what the Sword Division Chief said earlier?”

“…Why do you think that?”

“I can see it in your eyes.”

At his quiet reply, her gaze trembled faintly.

Namgung Hyuk stepped a little closer and continued,
“Or are you regretting the decision to sacrifice the civilians?”

“I don’t regret my judgment,” she said, shaking her head.
But Namgung Hyuk wasn’t fooled.

“As I thought… she feels guilty about the civilians who’ll suffer because of her decision.”

Jegal Lin was a woman rarely moved by emotion,
always basing her words and choices on reason and logic.
People often doubted whether she even had feelings at all.
Namgung Hyuk himself had once thought so.

“But no… she isn’t emotionless.”
“She simply doesn’t know how to express her feelings.”

He knew that deep down, she was still a fragile young woman.

“The choice you made was the best one a strategist could have made,” he said softly.

“You don’t need to comfort me.”

Even now, she tried not to show weakness.
But when Namgung Hyuk took another step closer, her body quivered slightly.

“For now, just accept the comfort,” he said gently.
“And take some advice—if you keep suppressing your emotions, someday that pressure will build up… and you’ll explode.”

“…!”

Her eyes widened slightly at his words.
Then, a single clear tear rolled down her cheek.

“Why… am I crying?”
It had been so long since she’d last been overwhelmed by emotion that she didn’t know how to react.

At that moment—
Namgung Hyuk silently reached out and held her hand.

Perhaps it was the warmth of that touch—
Jegal Lin gradually calmed down.

After a while, he asked quietly,
“Feeling better now?”

He could tell from the stillness in her hand that her trembling had stopped.
Embarrassed, Jegal Lin gently pulled her hand away.

“I’m fine now,” she murmured.

“That’s a relief,” he said with a faint smile.

Her eyes, slightly reddened from tears, gave her face a softness he’d never seen before.
She no longer wore that unreadable mask—
Instead, she looked open and sincere, almost childlike.

“Her mysterious, intellectual beauty was charming before…
but this honest expression is beautiful too.”

He thought that to himself.

Meanwhile, Jegal Lin couldn’t get a grip on her heart.
And the reason was standing right before her.

“To think I showed such an unsightly side of myself in front of Hyuk-gongja… What am I doing!”

Perhaps it was the release of all the emotions she had bottled up—
but her hidden fondness for Namgung Hyuk had burst forth all at once,
leaving her heart in turmoil.

“Lady Jegal?”
“A-ah, it’s nothing!”

Unable to meet his eyes, she turned her head aside.

“Why am I acting like this? Did he notice I was thinking strange things?”

Normally, anyone would have sensed the reason for her behavior—
but Namgung Hyuk, who had never had close dealings with women in either of his lives, was oblivious.

A brief silence hung between them.
Hyuk cleared his throat and said,

“Lady Jegal, I have a proposal for you.”

It was an idea he’d come up with while overhearing the earlier strategy meeting—
a plan that might also save the civilians she’d been forced to abandon.

“So, what do you think?” he asked after explaining.

Jegal Lin, who had calmed down while listening, nodded slightly.
“It doesn’t sound bad.”

“I see.” He smiled faintly.
“Then let’s put it into motion right away. The sooner we act, the fewer civilians will suffer.”

“…Please, I’ll leave it to you.”

“Let’s head back, then.”
Namgung Hyuk offered his hand.

It wasn’t meant romantically—
the sun had already set, and he merely wanted to help her walk safely in the dark.
For martial artists, such a gesture usually carried little meaning.

Yet, after a moment’s hesitation, Jegal Lin took his hand.

Step, step—

Under the moonlight, along the quiet path beside the reeds,
they walked hand in hand.
The only sound around them was the chirping of night insects.

Then, from behind him, Jegal Lin suddenly spoke.

“Um…”

“Hmm? Something on your mind?”
He slowed his pace so she could speak.

“From now on… would you call me Lin when it’s just the two of us?”

“Hm?”

He stopped and looked at her—was she serious?

“Well, I do prefer using a familiar name…
Ah, come to think of it, I’ve already been speaking to her informally.”

She hadn’t seemed to mind, which showed just how much closer they’d grown.

Feeling a little awkward, he replied,
“Then when it’s just us, I’ll call you Lin.
And you can just call me Hyuk.”

“…All right, Hyuk-gongja.”

And just like that, the two of them had grown a little closer.

A week later, countless rafts floated along the southern riverbank.
It had taken the labor of ten thousand men to make it happen.

Yet, even though they now had the means to cross, the Demonic Alliance (Sado-ryeon) did not move.
Or rather—they could not.

“If we cross without food to feed the troops, how can we expect them to fight?”
Sah Mokcheon spoke sharply to Gu Jinmo, who was urging for immediate action.

Gu Jinmo clenched his fist tightly.
“Anyone who calls himself a warrior should be able to fight even after missing a meal or two!”

“That might apply to you and me, or to those with strong internal energy,” Mokcheon retorted.
“But most of our men are low-level fighters.
When they’re hungry, they lose strength—and morale.”

The Demonic Alliance had gathered more fighters than expected,
but that only meant their food supply had run dry even faster.
They could not advance without provisions.

Mokcheon said,
“If the rear supply unit takes too long to arrive, we’ll have to seize food from nearby villages.”

“Wait—what if the Namgung Clan predicts that, and attacks while our forces are scattered?”
Gu Jinmo, for once, voiced a sensible concern.

Mokcheon merely smirked.
“We’ll take that into account and prepare accordingly.
In fact, I’d rather they cross the river to rescue those villagers. That would be ideal.”

“Hmph, when you put it that way, it doesn’t sound bad.”

The two men were secretly plotting a counterattack—
unaware that Jegal Lin had already seen through their plans.

Flap—

Just then, a subordinate entered their command tent.

“Two lords, a messenger claiming to represent the Nine Dragon Hall (Guryongbang) has arrived.”

“Another sect wanting to join us? We’ve no room left—send him away,” Gu Jinmo said irritably, waving a hand.

But Mokcheon stopped the man.
“Did you say Nine Dragon Hall?”

“Yes.”

He had heard of that group before—
when his fellow enforcer, the infamous Blood Elder Gongson Chaek, had been killed after visiting them.

“Bring this messenger here,” Mokcheon ordered.

“Yes, sir.”

Soon after—

“I am Tak Sohong, current leader of the Nine Dragon Hall. I greet you both.”

Once known as the Mad Lord Tak Suhong,
he now looked clean and composed, speaking in a calm, respectful tone.

“I heard Nine Dragon Hall was wiped out,” Mokcheon said.

“The former leader perished in battle with Yu Shinmun, and our forces scattered,” Tak Sohong replied, bowing low.
“But I managed to hold what remained together.”

It wasn’t unusual in the martial world for a dissolved sect to be reformed by a surviving member,
so Mokcheon found nothing suspicious.

“If you’ve come to offer military aid against the Namgung Clan, your spirit is admirable—
but it would be wiser to focus on rebuilding your sect.”

“No, sir. We’re well aware we lack the strength to help by force.
Instead, we’ve come to offer assistance in another way.”

Mokcheon’s brows twitched.
Tak Sohong straightened and continued,

“Fortunately, the former leader left behind a considerable fortune.
We’ve used it to purchase large quantities of rice from Namchang,
and we’ve brought it here as tribute.”

Both Mokcheon and Jinmo’s eyes widened.

Food—just when they were desperate for it!

“To think you’d offer such a thing… You have our gratitude,” Mokcheon said, smiling for the first time.

“I only wish for your success in destroying the Namgung Clan,” Tak Sohong replied humbly.

The two exchanged glances and whispered through inner voice transmission.

Jinmo: “If this man’s words are true, we can begin crossing the river at once.”
Mokcheon: “I never thought our food problem would be solved like this.”

There was no reason to refuse.

“Leader Tak, the Lord of the Demonic Alliance himself will surely reward your loyalty,” Mokcheon said with a grin.

“I am honored,” Tak Sohong replied.

Before long, as he had promised, countless wagons and carts arrived laden with rice.
With provisions secured, the Demonic Alliance quickly began preparing to cross the river.

But they had no idea—
that everything was unfolding exactly as one man had planned.

“As my lord wished… everything proceeds well.”

Tak Sohong had once been freed from madness by Namgung Hyuk,
and had sworn lifelong loyalty in gratitude.
Not long ago, he had been contacted by a beggar from Namchang—
a messenger of the Beggars’ Union, carrying a message sent by Hyuk himself through carrier pigeon from Hefei.

The message had contained two orders:
First, to secretly supply food to the Demonic Alliance, preventing them from looting villages.
Second, to use the opportunity to infiltrate them—
to become Hyuk’s eyes and ears within their ranks.

It was a mission that could easily cost him his life if discovered.

But—