Chapter 13
The Mysterious Blood-Robed Men
Swoooosh!
Through the sheets of heavy rain, the outline of the canyon came into view.
For years, in the ongoing localized war, that place had been taken and retaken countless times. To both sides, it had become a matter of pride they could never concede.
The number of warriors who had died for that pride was beyond reckoning.
Rumble!
Craaaack!
As the thunder and lightning grew fiercer, the warriors of Zhao kept watch toward the north while chatting idly.
“They won’t come down on a day like this, right?”
“If it were me, I’d only come down on a day like this. That’s why you can’t let your guard down for a second, you fool.”
“Why would they come on a day like this when we’re not even at war? Huang Ho’s not that ruthless.”
“Still, focus.”
“Quit whining like a dog that needs to take a dump and focus yourself, idiot.”
“Ugh, those guys are fighting again. Sick of it.”
The rain stirred their thoughts, and the warriors of Zhao were no exception. After a while of bickering, they each sank into their own musings.
“I miss my wife.”
“Me too.”
Kwaarrrng!
Craaaack!
A web of lightning split the sky close by.
The instant the lightning faded, a different flash replaced it—
Slish!
“Urk!”
With a short groan, a warrior’s head dropped to the ground.
“Huh?!”
Flash!
Thud!
Two more fell without even a chance to scream.
From beyond them, figures emerged—it was the warriors of the Hebei Peng Clan.
They exchanged glances and hand signals, scanning the surroundings sharply.
“Three in total here.”
“Move further in.”
Rustle!
Swoooosh!
Beyond the pounding rain, the warriors of Yan awaited the order to attack.
Under a pine tree, Yi Hwan leisurely chewed on jerky.
A short while ago, the Peng Clan warriors had slipped into enemy territory first—their job was to neutralize the sentries.
Everyone waited in the storm for the Peng Clan to send the signal.
Yi Hwan looked ahead at Peng Mu-wi. Compared to when they’d first met, his face and frame had noticeably slimmed, and Yi Hwan smirked.
Must’ve had a rough time with diarrhea.
He turned to Song Cheon-mu.
Until now, the young man had shown no emotion, but here at the enemy’s gate, his expression had gone stiff with tension.
“Breathe.”
“I am.”
“Slowly. Deeply.”
“Yes, sir.”
Just then, Jeong Cheon approached, suppressing a smile at Yi Hwan’s endlessly relaxed expression.
Hard to believe a man can change this much.
His voice turned solemn.
“When the attack begins, keep the Dragon-Tiger Army at the very rear.”
“Understood.”
“Anything else you need from me?”
“No.”
As Jeong Cheon left, Yi Hwan watched his back and thought of Huang Ho. When Yi Hwan had left camp, Huang Ho had looked at him with a face full of concern.
Of course, it wasn’t for him—it was concern for the fallout if something happened to him.
What kind of life was that guy hoping for, anyway?
For a moment, he felt pity for the original owner of this body—the fourth prince.
“Ugh, seriously!”
Cha Jung-gyeong cursed. His mask was plastered to his face, even making it hard to breathe.
When their eyes met, Cha Jung-gyeong covered his face with his hand—Can I take this off?—he was asking.
“Bear with it. And calm yourself.”
“…”
At that moment, a firework shot up through the rain and exploded in a burst of light.
Bang!
Yi Hwan slowly rose to his feet.
Song Cheon-mu instantly drew his sword.
Shing!
Yep, still a kid.
Clap!
Yi Hwan put a hand on Song Cheon-mu’s shoulder.
“Remember—don’t let your breathing break, even for a second. The moment it does, your sword is useless. And don’t stray from my side.”
“Understood.”
Step-step-step!
Jeong Cheon’s vanguard charged toward the camp first, followed by Peng Mu-wi’s troops. The Dragon-Tiger Army was in the rear.
“Looks like it’s starting.”
“Keep a safe distance and follow.”
“Yes.”
The man and the Blue-Robed One moved about a hundred paces behind the Dragon-Tiger Army.
They wore Yan army uniforms—their plan was to get as close as possible to Yi Hwan once the fighting began.
After about a quarter-hour—
Crack!
Clang!
“Aagh!”
“Grragh!”
The battle began.
The surprise attack in the rain was a success—Zhao’s first defensive line crumbled quickly under Jeong Cheon’s vanguard.
“That was too easy.”
“That’s not good…”
The man frowned. Chaos would make it easier to approach Yi Hwan.
Then—
“Enemy on the left!”
“Block them!”
Waaah!
Crack!
“Ugh!”
“Aaargh!”
From the canyon’s left, Zhao’s troops slammed into Yan’s flank.
“They were ready for us!”
“Exactly what we wanted.”
The man’s eyes gleamed—Yi Hwan was now tangled in the melee with the flanking Zhao troops.
First, I’ll confirm his martial skill.
Though a concubine’s son, the body’s original owner had been given every tonic and martial manual befitting a prince.
But lacking natural talent, he’d never mastered them.
Yi Hwan, however, was different.
For guys like these, palace martial arts are plenty.
With a slash of his sword, one enemy collapsed in a spray of blood.
Though he had never personally studied palace martial arts, Yi Hwan perfectly reproduced them from memory.
The same move could vary greatly in power depending on the user—Yi Hwan even had to restrain himself.
Tch. Didn’t think matching my opponent’s level would be such a hassle.
He’d never had to hold back before, but to avoid straining his body like before, it was necessary.
Yi Hwan scanned the enemies.
That one will do.
A towering foe in blood-red armor was cleaving through his men with a massive saber. One blow felled a seasoned captain, slicing both man and sword clean in half.
I’ll take him out first.
Just then—
Whoosh!
Two enemies came at him from either side.
Using footwork, Yi Hwan slid forward, slashing one’s waist with sword and palm.
Thud!
“Gah!”
“Aagh!”
“My lord! Don’t go in too deep!”
Song Hoe shouted, but Yi Hwan ignored him, charging the red-armored commander.
The man looked up from reclaiming his blade, baring his fangs.
“So you’re the worthless Fourth Prince of Yan.”
“That’s right. That’s me.”
“Heh… Your bravado’s impressive. That means you have to die.”
Flash!
Whooosh!
The saber came down.
Clang!
Sword and saber met, sending rain flying.
Viiing!
Yi Hwan flinched—the force was stronger than expected despite the slow speed.
“Not bad, scarecrow prince!”
Recognizing him, the commander swung again.
Yi Hwan parried the second, third, and fourth strikes—but his coat tore in several places from the impact, exposing skin.
The commander was shocked—not only had he held out, but he was still standing firm.
So all the rumors were lies?
Yi Hwan’s body ached, his wrist throbbed.
Holding back is harder than I thought.
For an ordinary man it would be second nature, but for Yi Hwan—whose past life never required it—restraining his inner force without falling short was as hard as executing an advanced technique.
“My lord! Fall back!”
Song Hoe stepped in front.
“Move.”
Pulling him back, Yi Hwan advanced again—if he wanted to master control, he needed more exchanges.
“Hey, big guy. Let’s start again.”
Fwoosh!
“You bastard…!”
As the fight devolved into chaos, the man and the Blue-Robed One leapt into the fray.
The man closed in on Yi Hwan.
[Minimal interference.]
[Understood!]
He studied Yi Hwan trading blows with the Zhao commander.
Clang!
After several clashes, he felt disappointment.
Not the one I’m looking for?
The saber was strong but slow—yet Yi Hwan wasn’t dodging, only blocking, getting pushed back and having his coat shredded.
Swoosh!
If he were truly one of their descendants, he wouldn’t be this weak. And he hasn’t used their techniques even once—could he really be related?
Though unimpressed, the man remained cautious.
I’ll watch a little longer before deciding.
Just then—
Whoosh!
A chilling presence came from the left. The man shifted back, tapping the attacker’s chest with his left palm.
Thud!
“Urk!”
Another’s head flew from his shoulders.
[Focus! You’ll get caught by a stray blade!]
The Blue-Robed One stuck close, fending off Zhao’s assault.
But the man barely noticed—his gaze was locked on Yi Hwan, who was stepping forward again.
“Hey, big guy. Let’s start again.”
At that moment, the man’s eyes changed.
The Zhao commander, who thought Yi Hwan would drop any second, saw the cold smirk and flared with murderous intent.
“I’ll smash your skull.”
Shiiing.
His saber flared with bloody energy.
Then—
Figures approached from behind him—all wearing blood-red coats and deep bamboo hats.
One of them spoke in a flat tone:
“Leave Yan’s Fourth Prince to us. Go elsewhere.”
“What? You arrogant—”
The commander’s brows knotted.
“It’s the Chief General’s order.”
“…!”
At the mention of the Chief General, the commander hesitated and stepped aside. The blood-robed men advanced on Yi Hwan.
Yi Hwan’s eyes hardened at the eerie aura they gave off.
Demonic sect martial artists?
They felt completely different from army experts.
The strangest thing was their timing—appearing as if they’d been waiting for him specifically.
Anyone could see I was being pushed back—yet they insist on taking over?
It was impossible not to be suspicious.
That’s enough for today.
