Two weeks later.

“Seventy.”

Mo Yonggun let out a sigh.

“We lost a lot.”

“I have no excuse.”

“No. As you felt this time as well, an individual’s might and tactics are bound to become powerless in front of a group’s strength. This is the martial world—where even the greatest master under heaven can die to a single thrown dagger from a third-rate. If it’s ‘natural,’ then it’s a natural result.”

Mo Yong-woo lowered his head.

“It was all my fault. I won’t show you something like this again.”

“Heh heh. I already know your ability and your nerve. What matters is not repeating past mistakes. You’ll do well.”

Of course, it would be a lie to say he wasn’t disappointed. Mo Yong-woo had said he would minimize the Demon-Sweeping Corps’ losses and handle everything with the Evil-Smiting Corps.

But even a genius under heaven finds it extremely difficult to grip other people and swing them around exactly as he wants.

Besides, this was Mo Yong-woo’s first time running a fighting unit as large as five hundred. Considering the Gray Wolf Band’s infamy, combat power, and numbers, the fact that “only” seventy had died was, if anything, more impressive.

“First, tell me how you went about taking the Gray Wolf Band apart.”

Mo Yong-woo laid out, in detail, the encounter with the Gray Wolf Band—and how he fought them.

Surprise spread across Mo Yonggun’s face.

“Hah! Hostages?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re saying you anticipated they’d pull something that despicable, and detoured the Evil-Smiting Corps?”

“I didn’t see that far ahead. I only sent them because the village was being invaded, and because it looked like an advantageous point for an attack.”

A small note of admiration rose on Mo Yonggun’s face.

“Impressive. Even if you can recite the Seven Military Classics from start to finish, once you’re actually in the field, it’s hard to show even a tenth of it.”

“It’s because I trusted Commander Yeon’s ability. If I hadn’t, I would’ve looked for another method.”

“He’s a man who carries thousands of snakes in his belly. Still—like you said—his ability is the one thing you can be sure of. And the fact that you could recognize that ability, and trust it, is your discernment.”

Mo Yonggun nodded, satisfied.

“You moved thoroughly as a commander. That’s enough.”

It wasn’t the result he’d boasted he would deliver, but after hearing the details, this was something that deserved praise, not scolding.

And in the end, most of the credit for crushing the Gray Wolf Band flowed to Demon-Sweeping Corps Commander Mo Yong-woo. The Evil-Smiting Corps’ name appeared as well, but Yeon Hojeong’s did not.

Good.

It was a genuinely satisfying outcome. If it wasn’t the absolute best, it was still fair to say he’d landed a big catch.

“Either way, I’ve identified exactly what my problems were in this operation. In many ways, it was a meaningful assignment.”

“Heh heh heh! If that’s how you see it, then that’s enough.”

Mo Yonggun burst into laughter, truly delighted.

But Mo Yong-woo didn’t.

Brother. People died.

A meaningful assignment?

Yes. This battle with the Gray Wolf Band was, without question, a meaningful assignment for Mo Yong-woo.

But it wasn’t something he should ever say out loud.

His people had died.

He’d forced down the grief surging up in him and said it anyway—only to deceive Mo Yonggun.

Mo Yong-woo was, all over again, bitterly aware of his own position. Thinking of his dead subordinates, the fact that he was now speaking words he should never be speaking made him miserable.

I’m sorry.

After steadying himself, if only briefly, Mo Yong-woo spoke.

“Brother.”

“Hm?”

“I’d like to hold a memorial [N O V E L I G H T] rite for the dead soldiers. I won’t announce it widely—we’ll do it quietly, just among the Demon-Sweeping Corps. I may not be able to see you for three days.”

Mo Yonggun’s eyes glittered.

“A memorial rite?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm. That’s fine. In any case, they were all your men. Taking time to mourn them isn’t a bad thing.”

“Thank you for understanding.”

“Heh heh, what is there to ‘understand’ or not? You’re the Demon-Sweeping Corps Commander. For a commander to hold a memorial rite for the soldiers who died under him is not strange in the slightest.”

On the contrary—it was a good thing.

This isn’t bad.

Mo Yonggun thought. If it were him, would he hold a memorial rite for dead soldiers?

The answer was no.

Instead of spending time on that, he would scheme to refill the depleted manpower—and move quickly to gain a denser, sharper strength.

Because he was that kind of man, Mo Yong-woo’s statement about holding a memorial rite sounded fresh to him.

At the same time, it was an opportunity.

That act of yours will deeply move the Alliance members.

The Demon-Sweeping Corps Commander is a man who thinks of dead soldiers as his own body. He’s a great chivalrous man with responsibility.

That rumor would spread throughout the entire Alliance.

Naturally, the Alliance members would take note of Mo Yong-woo, and Mo Yong-woo’s presence would grow even larger.

And all of that power would return to Mo Yonggun.

Smiling, Mo Yonggun said, “I’ll personally fill the gap left by the missing manpower. Don’t worry about that part.”

*****

“How have you been?”

“Mm.”

For the first time in a while, a smile touched Yeon Wi’s normally blunt face.

“Are you hurt anywhere?”

“Not at all.”

“I wasn’t asking you. I was asking my daughter-in-law.”

“Ah...”

“What could possibly hurt steel-boned you?”

“That stings.”

“Shut up.”

Yeon Hojeong wore an awkward expression.

He said it like that, but Yeon Wi prayed for Yeon Hojeong’s safety every single day. After Demon-Sweeping & Evil-Smiting went out on campaign, there wasn’t a single night he slept with an easy mind.

Mookbi spoke respectfully.

“I’m fine, Father.”

“Good. You came back whole and unhurt—so that’s enough.”

Yeon Wi was nothing like Mo Yonggun.

Just having his son—and the child he regarded like a daughter—return safely was enough to make him happy. The mission? Of course it mattered, but what mattered more than that was human life.

By sheer good fortune, he had heard there were no casualties in the Evil-Smiting Corps. That was enough.

“I have a mountain of things I want to say, but you must be exhausted in body and mind from the road. Rest today first, and we’ll talk in detail starting tomorrow.”

Yeon Hojeong said to Mookbi, “If you’re tired, go rest. I have something to talk about with Father.”

“Should I?”

Mookbi truly wanted to rest. No—before rest, she wanted to wash. She hadn’t been able to bathe even once on the way back.

After bowing her head, Mookbi hurried out of the room. Her heart had shrunk to a bean, wondering if she’d let Yeon Wi catch her smell.

Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue. By now, he could tell what Mookbi was thinking just from her eyes and how she moved.

“Did I tease her for no reason?”

He’d teased her once about smelling, and ever since, she’d shown a near-pathological obsession with washing. She was cleaner than anyone, honestly, and it felt like he’d made her life more tiring.

Yeon Wi asked, “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m fine. I didn’t even run on my own legs.”

“Riding a horse is still work.”

“I’m steel-boned, aren’t I?”

Yeon Wi let out a small snort of laughter.

“Fine. What is it you wanted to say to your father?”

Yeon Hojeong spoke carefully.

“Aren’t you upset?”

“Upset about what?”

“My name was left out of the report for this mission.”

Yeon Wi nodded.

“So you knew.”

“Yes.”

“Not just ‘knew’—did you deliberately leave it out?”

“Yes.”

“Is there a reason? Of course, your father knows you aren’t some pathetic man who chases fame, but there was no need to take your name out, either.”

The report had described the Evil-Smiting Corps’ exploits in considerable detail.

But that was all. A few soldiers’ names appeared, and there was talk of Strategist Je Gal Ahyeon and Mookbi’s sniping—but the three characters of Yeon Hojeong’s name were nowhere to be found.

...

Yeon Hojeong almost revealed his relationship with Mo Yong-woo to his father, then stopped himself. He didn’t think it was time yet.

Right. If I tell him when it’s time, it won’t end with a switch.

Yeon Hojeong clicked his tongue and said, “This time, I wanted to push it their way once.”

“Trying to make the Mo Yong Clan Lord let down his guard?”

“If he were the kind of man who’d let down his guard over something like this, dealing with him would’ve been much easier.”

“Then?”

Yeon Hojeong spoke brightly.

“Politics is about giving, but political struggle is give-and-take, isn’t it? He’s had plenty done to him up to now—his blood must be boiling. I should let him get his wind back once.”

Yeon Wi gave a bitter smile.

“Sometimes I think—how nice it would be if I could look into your head exactly as it is.”

“Ah, that is...”

“That’s enough. I know that if you could explain it, you would’ve done it long ago. These problems are, by nature, an area where reason and instinct mix together. They’re hard to explain easily.”

“Haha.”

That wasn’t all of it, but hearing him say it like that made Yeon Hojeong feel grateful—and guilty at the same time.

Just once.

Yeon Hojeong sighed inwardly.

Just endure one more time.

Unlike before, his father was gradually embracing and understanding more and more of him.

Hiding what was in his heart from a father like that hurt.

Soon, I’ll tell you everything, Father.

Yeon Wi asked, “So—is that all you had to say to me?”

“For now, yes. But there’s something I want to hear, too.”

“Something you want to hear?”

“Yes.”

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes changed.

“I’m curious what’s been happening.”

Seriousness settled over Yeon Wi’s face.

Now, his son had truly become an adult—an adult who looked at the world from the same position, with the same eyes, as himself.

Only the interpretation differed. His son had already established his own household. So even thinking together over something trivial no longer felt like something he had to be sorry for.

“There were plenty of messy, trifling matters, but nothing worth explaining to you. However...”

“...?”

“I had a headache over a matter related to the Dark Path.”

“A Dark Path matter?”

Yeon Wi told him about the matter involving Yangcheon. And that he had gone to see Mo Yonggun.

Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.

Father has changed, too.

If it were the father of the past, even if the world split in two, he would never have tried to borrow the schemes of a greedy petty man.

But his father had changed. He’d realized it was a board you couldn’t cut through with only the spotless fairness of the Orthodox Path.

“So what did Mo Yonggun say?”

“He said this. That the problem could be solved by making the other side misidentify it as not being us.”

Yeon Hojeong smiled.

Seeing his son’s smile, Yeon Wi asked, “Do you agree with his thinking as well?”

“I do. We can’t just sit still, and we can’t move rashly, either. So it means we have to move first. But if we don’t want him to hide like a rat, then the ALLIANCE OF THE MARTIAL WORLD’s name can’t come out.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes. However...”

Yeon Hojeong rubbed his chin.

“I don’t know what intent Mo Yonggun had when he said that. And whatever happens, if it’s a matter of taking on Yangcheon, there will be a fair number of sacrifices.”

“Mm.”

“Strategically, and when we think about chivalry, we should prevent casualties as much as possible.”

A faint smile surfaced on Yeon Wi’s face.

Good boy.

As expected, his son was different from Mo Yonggun.

In discernment and intellect, they could match each other blow for blow—but they looked at different places.

Mo Yonggun accepts a certain degree of sacrifice for the sake of the goal. But his son says it’s important, before even achieving the goal, to minimize their side’s sacrifices.

You’ve changed, too.

Yeon Hojeong hadn’t originally been like this. Not to Mo Yonggun’s extent, but he’d been far rougher than he was now.

He had changed. Like Yeon Wi had.

Yeon Wi was proud of that change in his son.

After thinking for a moment, Yeon Hojeong asked, “Is that plan in motion?”

“It is. It hasn’t been sent to the Dark Path yet, but before long, an order will come down from higher command.”

Smiling, Yeon Hojeong stood.

Yeon Wi looked at him with puzzled eyes.

“What is it?”

“I think I’ve got business with that Bag of Tricks, too.”

“...Don’t tell me?!”

A wicked smile settled over Yeon Hojeong’s face.

“Political struggle is give-and-take. I gave him one thing—so I’m going to go collect one thing in return.”