Chapter 8

Three days.

If it had only been three days ago, Jang Il would never have attempted something so reckless.

But those three days contained the experiences of three years from his previous life.

They could hardly be called “just” three days.

Indeed, the Jang Il of the past had obtained something that made such a seemingly suicidal act possible.

Before setting out for war, Jang Il had dreamt of his former self.

In that dream, half a year after sending his master off, the past Jang Il visited Moon Chu.

“You’re joining the war? Surely someone from the government didn’t come to recruit you? If so, there’s no need to worry. Their words are merely a request. They can never force us.”

Since the Liao Kingdom was constantly at war, such requests had come several times before.

Each time, however, Moon Chu had politely declined, and the authorities had done nothing more than issue a warning.

Those in the martial world were like a hornet’s nest.

Poke them carelessly, and the swarm would sting back with deadly vengeance.

Having devoted himself entirely to training, Jang Il had never known about such matters.

Only then did he realize how much worry his senior brother had quietly borne.

Looking warmly at the man who had always cared so deeply for him, Jang Il explained.

“That’s not the reason. I want to complete the sword Master left behind. To do that… I must go to the battlefield.”

“…I don’t understand.”

Unlike the original timeline, Moon Chu had never truly practiced the Killing Sword after Moon Kang’s death.

Instead, he had inherited the Thirteen Forms of the Clear Wind, the sword art Moon Kang had created after mastering the Living Sword.

Naturally, he found Jang Il’s words baffling.

“The foundation of the Twenty-Four Plum Blossom Sword Technique is the Killing Sword. It is a sword that reveals the mysteries of mind, qi, and body by standing between life and death. I should have entered such a place long ago… but Master guided me in its place. Even so… that guidance has reached its limit.”

“There must be… another way.”

Moon Chu understood the explanation intellectually.

But his heart refused to accept it.

To him, Jang Il was like a younger brother…

Almost like a son.

The thought of sending him to a battlefield was unbearable.

Seeing Moon Chu’s concern filled Jang Il’s heart with emotion.

Ever since the day he had lost his family and wandered to the Heavenly Sword Sect’s gates in desperation, this senior brother had become one of the most precious people in his life.

“I’ll return as quickly as I can. By the time I come back… perhaps you’ll already have disciples of your own.”

Moon Chu glared at him.

“You brat. Stop thinking like that. If you’re coming back, bring home a pretty wife instead.”

“Haha… I’ll do my best.”

And so…

Jang Il enlisted in the Liao army.

Since someone of his caliber—a Peak Realm martial artist—had joined the military, the government generously rewarded the Heavenly Sword Sect.

Not only were they exempted from taxes, but they were also granted lucrative salt-selling rights.

Handled directly, those permits generated enormous wealth.

Even leasing the rights to merchants earned a substantial income.

Naturally, this allowed the Heavenly Sword Sect to expand considerably.

During the following three years, Jang Il fought in nearly every war the Liao Kingdom waged.

He came close to death countless times.

Yet every time he survived, his Killing Sword grew ever more profound.

Then…

Exactly three years after enlisting—

Standing in the heart of an enemy battlefield—

He awakened the War Sword.

It was exactly as his first master, Oh Moon, had once described.

“One who completes the Sixteen War Swords gains the senses of the War Sword. With those senses, one can objectively perceive the flow of battle.”

When he first heard those words, Jang Il hadn’t understood their meaning.

But after attaining the War Sword…

He realized just how extraordinary it truly was.

Only then did he understand why his first master had desired it so desperately.

From that day onward, the battlefield itself became different.

Before awakening the War Sword, Jang Il had constantly maintained razor-sharp vigilance.

In the chaos of war, danger could strike from any direction at any moment.

The mental exhaustion was tremendous.

But after obtaining the War Sword…

Such constant strain was no longer necessary.

It was as though he had grown another pair of eyes.

Everything happening around him became effortlessly clear.

Having inherited the memories and experiences of his past self, the present Jang Il had likewise grasped the essence of the War Sword.

Yet until now…

He had lacked certainty.

The instant he stepped onto the battlefield—

He found it.

That’s it…

This is exactly what it felt like.

The moment his feet touched the battlefield, an indescribable sensation blossomed as though his awareness expanded in every direction.

His fear disappeared.

Certainly, against a battlefield where tens of thousands clashed or against supreme martial experts, the current Jang Il would still be overwhelmed.

But on a battlefield of this scale…

He had nothing to fear.

That was why he advanced.

And as if proving his judgment correct, he slipped effortlessly through countless enemy blades like an eel impossible to grasp.

Slash!

Stab!

Slice.

He wasn’t merely dodging.

Every casual swing of his sword—almost as if he were simply flicking dust from the blade—claimed another life.

Had this been the Jang Il of only fifteen days earlier, he would have needed ten times the effort to achieve the same results.

Now…

Killing ordinary soldiers required almost no effort at all.

By the time more than a dozen men had fallen beneath his sword…

He had reached striking distance of the enemy commander.

“…Who are you?”

The commander had been too busy rallying his troops to notice him before.

Only now did he finally speak.

Jang Il answered with his sword.

Whoosh!

There wasn’t overwhelming power behind the strike.

Only an edge so sharp it seemed capable of slicing apart the wind itself.

Slash!

Sensing danger, the commander hurriedly dodged.

But…

He hadn’t been the true target.

THUD!

The real target…

Was his horse.

Through the memories of his previous life, Jang Il knew exactly how troublesome mounted generals were.

Even if you intended to kill them, their superior mobility made escape far too easy.

Naturally…

His first target had been the horse.

SHHHH!

The horse’s severed neck erupted into a crimson spray.

Blood filled the air, obscuring everything.

Though the enemy commander was an experienced veteran, even he couldn’t hide his surprise.

After all…

Who could possibly imagine an ordinary-looking soldier decapitating a warhorse with a single strike?

His vision swallowed by blood…

He instinctively rolled across the ground.

The move was known as Lazy Donkey Roll.

A crude technique whose name literally meant “a lazy donkey rolling on the ground.”

Its appearance was so undignified that proud martial artists would rather die than use it.

But unlike them, the commander had spent his life in the military.

Without hesitation, he employed it.

And it saved his life.

Pierce!

A sword suddenly shot through the curtain of blood.

The commander narrowly survived by sacrificing one ear.

“What the hell…?!”

Shock quickly turned into rage.

Never in his wildest imagination had he expected to face death at the hands of a mere foot soldier.

HUMMMM!

Pouring his fury into his blade, he unleashed his full internal energy.

The force behind the strike was enough to shatter even solid rock.

Against such overwhelming power, evasion should have been Jang Il’s only option.

Instead…

He stepped forward.

Tap.

Raising his own sword to meet it head-on.

What happened next made the commander’s eyes widen in disbelief.

The blade…

Flowed.

Like a living serpent, it slithered along the enemy’s sword.

Then—

Slash!

It slipped through the opening in the armor beneath his arm and cut into his side.

The wound wasn’t deep.

But it was devastating.

With the side of his sword arm injured…

His strength was effectively cut in half.

From that moment onward…

The commander could no longer keep up.

Jang Il’s sword wasn’t especially fast.

Nor especially powerful.

But every movement transformed unpredictably.

There was simply no way to read it.

Slash…

Slice…

Shhk…

The commander was carved apart piece by piece.

Standing where he was…

He became a man drenched entirely in blood.

Only after the enemy’s fighting spirit completely collapsed…

Slash!

…did Jang Il finally sever his head.

Thud.

Just as the enemy commander had done earlier—

Jang Il impaled the severed head on a discarded spear and raised it high.

“Your commander’s head is here!”

“If you don’t wish to die… surrender immediately!”

His shout wasn’t especially loud.

Yet the killing intent behind it crushed everyone nearby.

Clatter…

Weapons began falling to the ground one after another.

Unlike their veteran commander, the enemy soldiers were mostly inexperienced recruits.

Their will to fight collapsed instantly.

They hurriedly threw down their weapons and knelt.

Once again…

The tide of battle turned completely.

“…What in the world did I just witness?”

Jang Pae questioned his own eyes several times.

Surely…

He had to be dreaming.

Otherwise, something so absurd couldn’t possibly have happened.

If someone had told him this story over drinks, he would have laughed in their face and accused them of hallucinating.

It was that unbelievable.

A sixteen-year-old boy—

Not even twenty—

Had broken through enemy lines…

And beheaded the opposing commander.

Had anyone told Jang Pae such nonsense beforehand, he would’ve cursed them and told them to wash their feet and go to bed.

Yet…

This wasn’t a dream.

He had watched every moment unfold with his own eyes.

His astonishment lasted only a moment.

Having already abandoned his usual principles and rushed toward the front to save Jang Il…

He immediately did what needed to be done.

“The enemy commander is dead!”

“Kill anyone who refuses to throw down their weapon!”

“The enemy commander is dead!”

“The enemy commander is dead!”

Jang Pae ordered his men to spread the cry.

Only then did the enemy soldiers realize what had happened.

Panic spread instantly.

The enemy company commanders tried desperately to rally their troops.

But the battle’s momentum had already shifted beyond recovery.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Jang Pae quickly retrieved Ryu Man’s pitiful head from where it had been displayed on a spear.

Then he approached Jang Il.

“…Just who are you?”

Instead of answering…

Jang Il simply handed him the enemy commander’s severed head, still skewered on the spear.

Jang Pae accepted it absentmindedly before letting out a bitter laugh.

“Hah… Come to think of it, you’ve already proven your strength once before. We were simply too blind to believe it.”

He recalled their first meeting—

When Jang Il had already brought back the head of an enemy commander worthy of a thousand-man rank.

Though it had originally been a misunderstanding…

It was no longer one.

Jang Il said nothing further.

Instead, tightening his grip on his sword, he said,

“The enemy is collapsing quickly. We need to press our advantage.”

“Right… Exactly.”

“Go wild.”

“We’ll cover your back.”

“…Understood.”

Without the slightest hesitation, Jang Il charged toward the parts of the battlefield where resistance still remained.

Jang Pae and his men followed close behind.

Jang Il alone was already unstoppable.

Now, backed by Jang Pae and his elite soldiers…

Every enemy they encountered was cut down where they stood.

“WAAAAAH!”

Before long, several enemy company commanders’ heads were rolling across the ground.

That became the final breaking point.

Cheers erupted across the battlefield.

They had won the war.