Chapter 155: Field Training (5)

After the White Sparrow Corps Leader finished his lengthy explanation, the six teams went their separate ways to find lodging and get some much-needed rest.

Turpan was a town that had grown around a massive oasis, so for the first time since starting field training, Il-mok finally got to enjoy a proper bath.

The next morning rolled around, and Il-mok found himself assigned to Team One and set out.

His team consisted of the White Sparrow Corps Leader and four other members, Instructor Xiao Hong and an assistant instructor, and four Disciples including himself. The other three Disciples were all from the Lower Class, so Il-mok barely knew any of them.

Not that Il-mok gave a damn who was on his team anyway.

He turned his head back with a look of pure longing, watching Turpan fade into the distance.

‘Dammit. If only I could’ve just stayed there and relaxed.’

While Il-mok was reminiscing about that refreshing bath from the night before, two White Crane Squadron members riding in the same wagon were giving each other knowing looks with gleaming eyes.

They were currently disguised as nomadic merchants traveling by wagon and horseback to maintain their cover. If they wanted to lure out the bandits they were hunting, they had to avoid using lightness skills at all costs.

The two corps members who ended up sharing a wagon with Il-mok had gotten a certain impression from watching him keep looking back toward Turpan.

‘Even the famous Eighth Young Master can't help but feel nervous, I guess.’

‘Makes sense. It's his first real mission, so he's bound to be jittery.’

The two nodded at each other and decided this was a perfect chance to break the ice with the young prodigy.

"No need to be so tense, Disciple Il-mok."

"Those bandits won't be any match for you."

Il-mok turned to look at them and replied, "I'm not really tense at all, seniors."

The two corpsmen took his reply as pure bravado and let out hearty laughs.

"Hahaha! I was the same way at first."

“Exactly. Everyone’s like that at first. There’s no need to be embarrassed.”

"......"

Embarrassed about what exactly?

While Il-mok sat there with his mouth shut, unable to figure out what they were getting at, the two kept chattering away nonstop.

"No matter how much you've honed your skills at the Hall of the Demonic Way, you can't have much real combat experience."

"Exactly. Real fights are different from training. Your head might know what to do, but your body can’t help but tremble. Speaking of which, this reminds me of when I first graduated from the Hall of the Demonic Way and joined the White Crane Squadron."

Just as they were about to launch into some long-winded story about their rookie days to give him advice, Il-mok quickly cut them off.

"Sorry, but would it be okay if I got some sleep?"

It was a request that could've been considered rude, but instead of getting offended, the squadron members just looked at him like he was adorable.

‘Hehehe. Is he so embarrassed that he's pretending to sleep?’

‘Makes sense. Kids his age always want to hide when they're nervous.’

The wagon they were riding in bounced violently as it raced across the wasteland. Even if he wasn't nervous, the conditions were way too rough for sleeping. Even these corps members who'd been doing this for years couldn't easily nap in an environment like this.

"Go ahead and give it a try."

The guy on the right said it like he was teasing him.

Il-mok just closed his eyes and leaned back against the wagon wall.

As they expected, the wagon's violent shaking traveled right through his back. It wasn't just his back; a constant stream of shocks jolted him from the floorboards beneath him. And yet…

"Snore... Hoooooo..."

Not even a few seconds after closing his eyes, Il-mok started snoring his head off.

His bold snoring made both men think the same thing.

‘Huh. He's just putting on a show.’

But that feeling didn't last long.

"...Wait, is he actually asleep?"

His snoring was so deep and steady, like he was using some kind of meditation technique. The two corps members couldn't help but look completely dumbfounded.

"...I think he really is sleeping."

"Can't tell if he's fearless or just an idiot."

The guy on the left thought for a moment before speaking up.

"...I'd say he's fearless."

"Looking at how he's been acting since day one, seems like he just doesn’t have a thought in his head.”

"That's part of what I mean. Think about all the stories about the Eighth Young Master."

The man on the right finally understood his colleague's meaning and nodded.

"Now that you mention it, from the Eighth Young Master's perspective, this level of mission probably isn't worth getting nervous about."

"That's exactly what I'm saying. At fifteen, he already had experience provoking and luring around the First Young Master when he went berserk."

Unlike Il-mok, these two had been born into the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, so they'd heard stories about First Young Master Wi Jin-hak since they were kids.

The Mad Demon that made all the unbelievers in the Central Plains shake with terror. That was the First Young Master when he went berserk.

And some fifteen-year-old kid had provoked that Mad Demon and led him around by the nose.

"That's not all. I heard he even went to the Oblivion Ridge."

"...They call it Peach Blossom Ridge now, but just thinking about going there myself makes me shudder."

Once they got to that point, even Il-mok's behavior over the past few days started looking different to them.

His obsession with bathing every night, despite this being his first field training mission as a cadet. That madness now seemed less like insanity and more like he was just taking it easy because the mission was a cakewalk for him.

And the more they talked about it, the more convinced they became. Especially since...

"Snooooore..."

Even with the two of them chatting away right in front of his face, the Eighth Young Master wasn't waking up; he was still snoring away like nobody's business.

It was the result of all that dedicated nap training he'd done back in his club.

***

How much time passed as he enjoyed a pleasant dream?

"Damn it."

Sometime later, Il-mok found himself no longer in the carriage but on horseback a sour expression. They'd been taking turns between riding in the wagon and driving the horses to keep things fair for everyone.

A constant barrage of sand and dust battered his face and clothes as he galloped across the wasteland on horseback. Il-mok had wrapped a cloth around his mouth and was muttering through it with a sigh.

"Still better than before though."

Compared to when they'd been running using lightness skills, horses and wagons were practically luxuries.

‘I'd be perfectly happy if we could just keep riding like this all the way to Hami. Let some other team deal with the targets.’

After all, the odds were only one in six anyway, so Il-mok figured it was a pretty reasonable dream to have.

But his dream was shattered by the White Sparrow Corps Leader's quiet mutter from the front of the group.

"Here they come."

Following the leader's gaze, Il-mok turned his head to the side and saw some group kicking up a fierce sandstorm as they charged toward them.

Looking at that scene, Il-mok let out a deep sigh.

"Seriously, did some demon curse my life or what?"

As soon as he muttered those words, Il-mok realized something important.

‘Wait, my life's already been cursed by a demon. And not just any demon, but the Heavenly Demon.’

From the moment he was dragged into the Heavenly Demon Divine Cult, his life hadn't just been cursed, it had been completely soaked in demons from every direction.

While Il-mok was grumbling about his shitty luck, White Sparrow Corps Leader quietly gave his orders.

"Don't panic and keep moving forward at a slightly reduced pace. When they get close enough, follow my signal and target their horses first."

Following the leader's instructions, they continued charging straight ahead.

But a strange tension was starting to build between them.

The experienced corps members maintained their usual atmosphere, but the students experiencing this for the first time couldn't help but show some nervousness.

"Take deep breaths."

While the corps members and Instructor Xiao Hong were giving various pieces of advice to calm down the nervous Disciples...

Neeeiiigh!

The sound of horse cries and hoofbeats gradually grew louder, and slowly, the outlines of their enemies became clear.

‘Looks like more than twenty of them.’

The corps members maintained their calm atmosphere, and the students showed their nervousness, but Il-mok was just looking in that direction with an expression that screamed, "I can't be bothered with this shit."

As the corpsmen's eyes lit up at Il-mok's incredible boldness, the bandits who'd gotten close enough closed in and began surrounding them in a circle.

"Uwahahaha!"

"Kekekeke!"

They were probably trying to intimidate them, laughing loudly while brandishing their weapons.

"Wh-what business do you have blocking our p-path?"

The White Sparrow Corps Leader was quite a skilled actor. He stammered like he was terrified, acting just like a regular merchant would.

"Uwahaha! You don't need to know who we are! Drop your weapons and hand over your horses and wagon, and we might let you live! But! Leave the women behind."

When the vicious-looking guy who seemed to be their leader shouted that, the bandits around him started snickering again and spewing disgusting words with their lewd gazes.

"Boss! Can I have a taste of that one first?"

"Kekeke. Once she gets a taste of what I've got down here, she'll never want to leave."

Despite their blatant stares and crude language, Instructor Xiao Hong and the female warrior from the corps expertly acted terrified.

In contrast, the female student from the Lower Class had a face flushed crimson with rage.

"Getting all shy just makes me want to play with you even more!"

“Heheheh. Nothing to be shy about, little lady. It’s something you’ll experience eventually. This big brother will show you paradise.”

When the young female student blushed, the bandits mistook her anger for shyness.

While all this was happening, the bandits surrounding them kept getting closer.

The White Sparrow Corps Leader pretended to tremble with fear and made a show of putting down his weapon, then suddenly launched a surprise attack. The other cult members who'd been waiting for his signal all struck at once.

Swoosh!!

Countless silver arcs cut through the air. Most of the horses were taken down in the first surprise attack, but they couldn't kill all of them.

The cult members were outnumbered, and two of the students had failed in their surprise attacks.

Neeeiiigh!

The cries of the wounded horses echoed mournfully as blood flowed everywhere.

Most of the blood soaking into the desert sand came from horses, but there were also some bandits who'd gotten their legs or bodies sliced off when they got caught up in the attacks aimed at the horses.

Meanwhile, the White Sparrow Corps Leader had pulled out some kind of stick that was starting to emit green smoke.

“Let’s see how lively you are after I chop off that filthy thing between your legs.”

Instructor Xiao Hong, who'd been putting on a terrified face, now wore a cold expression as she swung her sword at the bandit who'd insulted her.

The insulted female student and corps members all charged at the bandits with fire in their eyes, while the other cult members calmly moved in to attack.

In the midst of all this, the bandit leader quickly regained his senses and yelled.

"There are only eleven of them! Deal with them quickly, then steal their horses and get out of here!"

With most of the horses dead, this was the best solution the leader could come up with.

After all, if they just scattered and ran at this point, they'd all get caught eventually anyway.

"Attack!!"

With the bandit leader's shout, a chaotic battle erupted.

Il-mok’s face twisted in disgust as he looked at the two ugly bandits rushing toward him. It wasn't just because of the foul stench of sweat and old blood coming from their bodies. It was because of the whispers from his damn side effect, which was starting to act up as the battle drew near.

‘Dammit. If I swing my sword any more than this, it’s going to be dangerous.’

—Let's draw the most beautiful sword path in the world!

—The sword is the brush, and their bodies are the canvas!

—Hehehe. And their blood will make for the perfect ink!

—The blood of horses is not enough! Let us paint with the blood of men!

The Soul-Stealing Heartless Sword was particularly excited since this was real combat instead of sparring.