Shadow Unit (1)

“Haahhh! So this is the air of the mundane world! How fragrant it is! Khahaha!”

Yuk Jangwon, once a warrior of the Eleventh Flying Dragon Squad, took a deep breath and burst into hearty laughter.

Though he had not yet left Yunnan, and the dense jungle path was the same as always, everything felt strangely new to him.

It was all because he had left the Flying Dragon Unit.

And not just on temporary leave—this was a full discharge.

He had survived five years of service and was now leaving the unit for good.

Of course, there were some who returned to the front even after their five years were finished.

But Yuk Jangwon absolutely did not want to live like them.

Most of them were lunatics obsessed with vengeance for their sect, like the disciples of the Diancang Sect.

Shaking his head at the thought, Yuk Jangwon muttered,

“That’s madness, true madness, nothing less.”

To endure another five years in such a terrible place, full of danger yet without even gaining fame—why would anyone do such insanity?

The greatest mistake of his life, he thought, was foolishly volunteering for the Flying Dragon Unit. The greatest fortune was surviving five years and walking away alive.

Of course, it wasn’t as if he had gained nothing from the front.

Entering at the beginning of his thirties as a second-rate warrior, he now returned in his late thirties as a top-class first-rate martial artist.

Now, if he could just acquire a good elixir to fill one more cycle of inner energy, he felt he could aim for the Pinnacle Realm.

Even the squad leader of the Eleventh Squad (himself at Pinnacle) assured that one more step would take him into the Pinnacle Realm. Surely, it was true.

So now, the only path before him was a road of blossoms—so he firmly believed.

‘If I can just reach the Pinnacle Realm, I’ll seize some remote region and become its undisputed ruler.’

He would grasp wealth and honor, even marry.

He swore to reclaim the five years he had lost, with interest.

It was then.

Fwish!

A faint tearing sound reached his ears.

A hidden weapon.

“Haap!”

Tak!

In an instant, Yuk Jangwon, who had been walking carelessly, leaped aside and easily dodged the projectile.

His sharp eyes scanned where it came from and the surrounding area.

Fwish! Fwish!

Immediately, more hidden weapons flew toward where he had landed.

But that brief pause was a feint—he accelerated and rushed toward the origin point, weaving through the trees.

Judging from the speed of the weapons, his opponent was at least high first-rate.

Perhaps even top first-rate like himself.

But it didn’t matter.

As long as they weren’t Pinnacle Realm, he would not lose.

Why he was being attacked was a question for later.

Fwish! Ting! Ting!

Using the trees for cover, he dodged and closed the distance. At close range, he ducked behind a tree, then hurled his discarded clothes outward.

Instantly, dozens of hidden weapons pierced through the empty garment.

Fwssshh!

It was a trick to confuse the enemy’s eyes.

The black-clad, masked assailant who had thrown the weapons realized only belatedly that it was empty clothing.

Turning warily, expecting Yuk Jangwon to emerge from the other side—

But the attack came from an angle he had not imagined.

Whoosh!

In the brief blind spot of vision, Yuk Jangwon had silently climbed up the tree and now descended from above.

“!”

Startled, the masked man looked up.

But it was too late.

All he could see was Yuk Jangwon’s triumphant grin and the descending blade.

“Haap!”

Swoosh!

Yuk Jangwon had no doubt he had won.

Even if the man’s cultivation was similar, his own battlefield-honed experience gave him the edge.

He planned to sever an arm first, then torture the man for answers.

But then—

From the shadow of the masked man staring at him in despair, someone suddenly lunged out.

An ambush he had never anticipated.

“Urgh?!”

Yuk Jangwon’s eyes widened.

But he was still a veteran who had endured five years on the front.

Seeing the sword’s azure glow, he instantly twisted away.

That glow was Sword Force.

His foe was a Pinnacle Realm master.

Slash!

“Ghhhk!”

Even so, his desperate twist was barely enough. His blade and one arm were cut off together.

Had he not turned, his whole body would have been cleaved in two.

Through the agony, Yuk Jangwon coolly judged.

To cut through both his weapon and arm infused with blade qi—this opponent was no beginner.

At least seventy years of cultivation.

He tumbled across the ground, blood pouring.

Victory was impossible. Escape was his only chance.

But as he rolled toward the forest, he froze.

Rustle!

Masked figures emerged on all sides.

Eight in total. He hadn’t sensed any of them until now. A chill ran down his spine.

Behind him, the Pinnacle Realm master approached with leisurely steps.

Grinding his teeth, Yuk Jangwon scanned frantically.

No escape.

A dead end.

A bitter laugh escaped.

He had resigned himself to death five years ago. But to die now, just as he sought to live again…

Facing the masked figures, he demanded,

“Are you lackeys of the Demonic Sect?!”

The approaching master paused, gazing at him with heavy eyes, then sighed.

“You’ve suffered much.”

You’ve… suffered?

Stunned by the unexpected words, Yuk Jangwon’s mind went blank.

So—they weren’t Demonic Sect minions?

Then…

He suddenly recalled an older comrade, one who had left the front before him. A sworn brother who had vowed to visit once settled outside—yet never came.

He had thought him faithless. But could this be why?

Eyes wide, he shouted,

“No way! You’re from the Alliance—?!”

In that instant, the masked master’s sword brushed his throat.

Slash!

A thin line opened, and blood gushed forth.

Yuk Jangwon’s consciousness faded.

The masked man who ended his life—Sag Muhun, squad leader of the Martial Alliance’s Shadow Unit—silently prayed for his soul.

‘You should have stayed on the front.’

The reason Yuk Jangwon had to die was because he was a wanderer, unaffiliated with any sect.

For Alliance-affiliated warriors, the Alliance enforced secret oaths with the ultimate penalty—extermination of their sect.

Thus, disciples had no choice but to obey, even betraying other sects to protect their own.

But unaffiliated warriors like Yuk Jangwon, or those of the unorthodox, could not be trusted.

So the Alliance had decided to root them out entirely.

It was a sinister act for the so-called pillar of the orthodox.

Sag Muhun, not yet thirty, had already spent nine years repeating such missions.

He could never reconcile with killing those who once defended the front.

But he had no choice.

For men of humble birth like him, ten years in the Shadow Unit was the price to stand proudly among the Alliance’s warriors.

Only one more year remained. That was his only comfort.

Nearby, other members teased the rookie who had bungled his solo ambush.

“What? You thought you could handle a top-class warrior alone? Instead, you got handled?”

“Told you not to underestimate front-line veterans, idiot.”

Overconfidence among rookies was common.

Thus, sending them to ambush discharged veterans alone was a Shadow Unit tradition—to temper arrogance and teach respect.

Sag Muhun glanced at the squabbling members, then turned upward.

A carrier pigeon descended.

Reading the message gravely, his comrades asked,

“Another discharged one? This month’s been busy.”

But he shook his head.

“No. This time, we are to kill one still serving at the front. A woman.”

Faces darkened.

“Why? To kill a woman still on duty? That’s never happened before.”

Sag Muhun’s cold gaze silenced them.

“We only obey orders. Have you forgotten?”

The chastised warrior shut his mouth.

Sag Muhun’s eyes stayed cold for a moment longer, then he leapt ahead.

“Move out!”

Nine Shadow Unit warriors followed, two Pinnacle Realm masters and seven top-class first-rates.

They were heading for the Thirteenth Squad.

Ma Yugyeom wandered aimlessly from his quarters.

Passersby asked him what was wrong, but he did not hear. His mind was shattered.

All that filled his head were the Blood Demon’s voice and the letter left on his bed.

“It’s fortunate you resemble Huigeum, not Wonil.”

Those were the words the Blood Demon had sent by sound transmission when Ma Yugyeom was paralyzed, unable to draw his sword.

At first, he did not understand.

Huigeum? Who—?

Then it struck him. His mother’s name was Jeon Huigeum.

Unlike his cold father, she had always embraced him warmly.

Realizing this, Ma Yugyeom had stared blankly at the Blood Demon.

And then, as if by sorcery, a vision came through the demon’s eyes.

His mother, weeping, standing beside the Blood Demon.

“Yugyeom, my precious son. This man is your grandfather.”

…What?

Strength drained from his body.

Surely it was an illusion, a trick. But her face was so vivid he could not look away.

Then the vision vanished, and the Blood Demon’s voice came again.

“Huigeum’s letter is left in your quarters.”

That was all.

But his turmoil began then.

His mother’s letter? She had written to him?

Could it be—she was alive?

Alive?!

Ma Yugyeom no longer perceived the summit’s progress. He wanted only to return to his room.

Two hearts battled within him—hope and reason.

He yearned to see the letter, yet feared it might truly be from her.

And there it was.

On his bed lay a letter.

In his mother’s unmistakable hand.

She had taught him to write; he could never forget her script.

The letter began with words of longing, her deep affection bringing tears even to his stern eyes.

But the latter half was worse.

It explained why the Blood Demon was his maternal grandfather.

It told the secret of the fall of the Jeon Clan, destroyed by the greed of the Ma Clan and the Diancang Sect.

Of Jeon Mugwang, the Blood Demon, who lost his daughter and wandered the martial world.

Of how Ma Wonung, heir of the Ma Clan and disciple of the Diancang Sect, not only ruined the Jeon Clan but also defiled Jeon Huigeum, taking her as wife.

Now Ma Yugyeom understood the hatred in his mother’s eyes toward his father, and the sorrow whenever he asked of her family.

And he could not deny it.

This was the truth.

He recalled Sa Gunil’s question:

“Does Diancang deserve to rise again?”

He had dismissed it as nonsense.

Now—

“Hhheheheh, hahahaha!”

In the heart of the jungle, Ma Yugyeom burst into mad laughter.

Tears streamed down his face.