Miryeong reached the predetermined rendezvous point first and swallowed a breath.
She had already crossed the forest several times to support her scattered squad members.
Her thighs burned with a dull ache,
and every time she breathed out, her throat felt gritty, as if smoke were clinging to it.
It was then.
The smell of metal carrying smoke no longer drew closer.
Instead, it slowly receded.
As the smell grew distant,
the forest suddenly seemed to widen.
Until just moments ago,
it had felt as though shards of iron were embedded in every tree and every blade of grass,
but now the scent of soil returned belatedly.
Miryeong swallowed.
Her rough throat hurt as if it would tear,
but that pain felt, if anything, like proof that she was alive.
Even so, her heart did not ease.
Because their withdrawal was not the end,
only the time they were taking to choose their next step.
“…They’re pulling back.”
As Miryeong murmured in a low voice, shadows gathered one by one.
Some had hems caked with dirt,
and some had reddened eyes.
Amid the sounds of ragged breaths colliding, short reports came in.
“We shook them off.”
“Put them to sleep for a bit, then got them out.”
“We scattered the footprints too.”
Miryeong nodded.
Her gaze remained fixed beyond the forest.
And finally, Muryeong arrived.
“They’re gathering toward the abandoned house.”
Muryeong said.
“Looks like they’re planning to set up camp.”
“Right.”
Miryeong folded her fingers as she counted the people again.
“Everyone’s here, right? Anyone hurt?”
The answers were brief.
A shake of the head,
an arm rolled once to show it was fine,
a hand gesture meaning they were all right.
That was all.
Miryeong steadied her breathing and reached a conclusion.
“Our squad returns to the encampment. We have to report to Rangnan immediately.”
Muryeong answered without even a beat of hesitation.
“We’ll keep watching. And cut off their supplies.”
Miryeong looked at Muryeong’s face for a moment.
She had no intention of stopping him.
But she had to drive the point home.
“Don’t overdo it. Especially with the knight.”
Miryeong spoke quietly.
“You’ll be fine, I know. Still—”
“I know.”
Muryeong tightened his grip on the axe haft,
then looked back at his squad members.
“We watch. Once the sun sets, we begin.”
The squad members nodded at once.
Miryeong checked the scent of the forest one last time.
The iron had clearly moved away.
“All right. I’ll head back first. See you tonight.”
Miryeong swept her gaze once over Muryeong’s squad.
No one looked away first, nor did anyone tense up.
A promise understood without words.
Instead of answering, Muryeong pressed the end of his axe haft once into the ground.
A signal that said, Understood.
Only after seeing that did Miryeong press down the heat still lingering inside her chest.
And so the sound of two sets of footsteps
split apart into different darknesses.
—
Bido stood facing Kallen, cutting his breath short as he swallowed it.
Kallen’s toes brushed the ground, and in the next moment, he was already somewhere else.
Mirkin’s acceleration was not excessive.
But it did not break.
Steel clashed, and sound sprang out.
Bido pushed the blade away and loosened his wrist low.
So that his body would move before the sword.
“The sword…”
Bido spoke between breaths.
“I have to think of the sword as my body and send the flow through it.”
Kallen clenched his teeth.
“This is hard.”
Kallen widened the distance once more, his expression unable even to form a smile.
“I can’t… really focus.”
Before those words even ended, Kallen’s figure blurred again.
Acceleration took hold once more.
Bido narrowed his gaze.
The toes, the weight.
The moment breath entered.
He read it and followed the tip of the blade.
Clang.
Bido cut off another breath and swallowed it.
Kallen’s acceleration was fast,
but his breathing, if anything, was steady.
Bido did not look at his toes.
He looked just behind them.
At the opening in the instant his weight settled.
When steel rang out again—
clang—
Bido could have won.
But he did not.
Because what he had to learn now was not how to “hit,” but how to “read.”
Steel rang once more.
The door opened.
The air outside rushed in all at once.
Smoke, and the faint smell of burning metal, clung to it.
As the outside air pushed in, Raen was the first to wrinkle her nose.
“A burning smell…”
Bido’s gaze naturally turned toward the door.
Miryeong was entering.
Dust and black ash stained the hem of her clothes,
and the ends of her hair were roughly disheveled.
The sound of her breathing was deep.
But her steps did not falter.
Bido lowered his sword.
Then he approached almost at a run.
“Lady Miryeong!”
Raen also spoke when she saw Miryeong.
“Lady Miryeong… are you all right?”
A smile settled first on Miryeong’s tired face.
“Ah, you’ve all been well?”
Before she even finished speaking, Miryeong’s gaze turned inward.
“Rangnan?”
Kallen answered first.
“He’s inside.”
Miryeong nodded,
then lightly stroked Bido’s head once.
Bido felt that her touch was warm enough to make her hand pause for an instant.
Then Miryeong walked straight inside.
The door opened once more,
and shadows followed in after her.
Hurta, Marin, Rag.
And Ed.
Some lifted their shoulders as they caught their breath,
and some braced their hands on their knees and lowered their heads for a moment.
There were not many words.
Instead, the dirt and ash clinging to their bodies
spoke for what had happened in the forest today.
Bido watched them,
then suddenly realized.
Muryeong’s squad was not there.
Raen’s tail drooped ever so slightly.
“But… what about Lord Muryeong?”
Bido’s hand unconsciously moved toward the hilt of his sword, then stopped.
Kallen, too, quietly turned his gaze.
From the direction Miryeong had gone inside,
it felt as though Rangnan’s voice would soon be heard.
—
It was after the sun had completely sunk.
Soldiers had gathered at the temporary camp set up in front of the abandoned house.
The bustle of the day had settled,
leaving behind only the tension that remained after everything was put in order.
Muryeong and his squad members were among the trees,
their bodies buried in the shadows as they watched the lights.
Behind the abandoned house, baggage carts had been set up as if blocking the road.
Tents roughly erected just enough to keep off the dew.
Beneath them, some soldiers could already be seen lying on makeshift bedding.
But outside was different.
The soldiers on night watch still had sharpness in their eyes.
Each time the torches swayed, spearheads flashed,
and footsteps swept the edge of the forest at regular intervals.
The supplies were not visible.
If they were not visible, that meant they had been hidden.
The carts were blocking the road, but what they blocked was not the road—it was the line of sight.
Behind the carts, the firelight did not reach,
and that darkness made the “inside” seem even larger.
The steps of the night watch were regular.
The existence of a pattern
meant their guard was not relaxed.
Muryeong memorized that pattern with his eyes.
Between one step and the next,
the brief gap created when a torch swayed once.
The spark had to begin there.
Muryeong adjusted his grip on the axe haft.
The rough haft, as if made from bone, dug deep into his palm.
Then he spoke in a very small voice.
“The commander and the supplies… are inside. There’s a high chance they’re in the abandoned house.”
Beside him, Aslo lowered his breath and spoke.
“Yeah. It’s more heavily guarded than I expected.”
Jincheong twitched his nose once.
“Probably… because they’re wary of contingencies.”
At that moment, Ria and Rion tilted their heads almost at the same time.
“What if we just burn down the building?”
The words were light, but their eyes were serious.
Fire was fast.
And certain.
Before Muryeong could answer, Aslo cut in first.
“That’s too dangerous.”
If the fire spread, it could not be controlled.
Above all, it would become not a “disruption,” but an “all-out battle.”
A brief silence flowed.
Jincheong broke that silence.
“What about burning the carts?”
Aslo’s gaze shifted toward the carts.
A moment of calculation.
The distance of the firelight, the direction of the wind, the patrol routes of the sentries.
“…Yeah.”
Aslo said quietly.
“They’ll be busy putting out the fire.”
Muryeong looked at Jincheong.
“In the meantime, we might be able to approach the supplies…”
He added in a low voice.
“Even if not, we can wear down the soldiers’ stamina.”
Once the conclusion was settled,
Muryeong lowered his voice further.
“We wait until the night grows deeper.”
When those who were not on watch had completely fallen asleep.
When the camp’s breathing grew slack,
and its eyes dulled.
Muryeong quietly turned his gaze and singled out Aslo first.
“Aslo. You turn the ground over from the front.”
Everyone understood what those words meant.
Sound, sight, movement.
Right before the “fire” was lit, they would shake the head of the watch once more.
Muryeong immediately shifted his gaze to the twins.
“When that happens, you two set fire to the carts.”
Ria and Rion nodded briefly at the same time.
Then Muryeong called Jincheong.
“Jincheong. You watch, and if the knight comes outside,”
“then dig into the abandoned house. Break it.”
Instead of answering, Jincheong raised two fingers.
Understood.
Lastly, Muryeong looked at Wollyeon, who lay prone a little distance away.
Her heavy crossbow was already aimed.
“Wollyeon. Cover us from as far away as possible.”
Without speaking, Wollyeon tapped the ground once with her finger.
A signal that it was possible.
Muryeong let out a long breath and summed it up.
“Does everyone understand?”
One by one, heads nodded.
The movements interlocked like a single promise.
Muryeong drove in the final rule.
“If the knight moves, I stop him.”
At those words, the air grew a little heavier.
Muryeong continued without wavering.
“No matter what happens, scatter and retreat to the meeting point.”
Then he looked back at the camp.
The torches were bright.
But the brighter the light, the deeper the shadows.
Within those deep shadows, Muryeong waited in silence.
Until the time came for the night watch to change.
Until the moment their breathing grew completely slack.