Chapter 77 - Black...

But Dong Bongsu already understood all the advantages and peculiarities of this technique, and he had learned another that paired beautifully with it. Until now, his enemies had always died before he could even see Consecutive Strike's effects, leaving him unable to test the combination. Now he was about to unleash it.

CLANG! CLANG!

Once again, the Vagabond Sword collided twice with Paitan's saber, triggering [Two Consecutive Strikes Failed].

[Two Consecutive Strikes Failed. The player forcefully knocks the enemy backward.]

As the familiar mechanical voice rang inside Dong Bongsu's head, Paitan slid backward.

At that same instant, Dong Bongsu vanished from his sight.

"Wh-what...!"

He never managed to finish his question. No one in this world could speak with their uvula and tongue sliced lengthwise from the root.

Somehow, Dong Bongsu was already standing behind him.

He smoothly pulled the Vagabond Sword from the back of Paitan's neck. Blood gushed like a fountain from Paitan's mouth and throat as he toppled backward. Even then, his eyes posed one last question.

'What is this?!'

Once again, Dong Bongsu obligingly answered.

"Movement Art."

After knocking Paitan backward with Consecutive Strike, Dong Bongsu had teleported behind him. An evasive technique for desperate moments had evolved into an excellent combination when paired with Consecutive Strike.

SLICE.

Dong Bongsu cut an ear from Paitan's corpse. It was the signal that the battle was over.

"Woooo!"

The mercenaries cheered, and an all-too-familiar festival began.

The outlaws called mercenaries all began cutting ears from the Northern Ghosts. They laughed with delight even as blood drenched them from head to toe. Who cared if blood splashed into their mouths, or bits of mangled flesh landed in their eyes or ears? What did any of that matter? The most precious things in the world lay everywhere, theirs for the taking.

"Bwahahaha!"

"Ears! Ears! Money! It's money! There's money everywhere!"

Who had called modern society a world where money ruled supreme? Wrong. Wherever one went in the world, anywhere in the universe, gold held the greatest value. Past, present, or future—whatever the age, the human animal laughed and cried over money.

Dong Bongsu knew that well. He found it difficult to understand himself, but that was the sort of animal humans were. Occasionally, some were different, but they were no concern of his. Such herbivores did not interest him.

The more steeped in desire and consumed by madness humans were, the more wicked and passionate—and above all... powerful—they became. And Dong Bongsu was a hunter who preyed on such people.

After watching the mercenaries in their crazed frenzy, he quietly raised his head. The moon had risen unnoticed, casting a dim light across patches of the steppe.

The moon...

Luna, in ancient Greek. From it came the English word "lunatic." Yet by now, that word no longer meant "moonlike" or "like the moon." All trace of its original meaning had vanished, and it had become synonymous with madman or psycho.

The moon and madmen.

Yes. What a fitting combination.

Dong Bongsu's cheek twitched faintly.

On this mad night, he quietly exhales toward the writhing moon.

About the time it took to eat a meal later, the festivities ended.

First, Dong Bongsu ordered the mercenaries to pitch their tents. Nights on the steppe were every bit as cold as those in the desert. They needed to set up camp and shelter from the wind before it was completely dark. Otherwise, men would start dying before they ever got to spend their hard-earned money.

Next, he assembled a fifty-man scouting party and sent it up Mount Manhan. Although they had annihilated the Northern Ghost Corps' main force, including its leader, hundreds of Northern Ghosts remained. He needed to find out why they had stayed on Mount Manhan. And if they were gone, he had to investigate why. Without fail.

Finally, Dong Bongsu sent Lee Jasong a messenger bearing news of their victory. Liangcheng, which Lee Jasong was attacking, lay half a day's journey to the southwest. His messenger would probably reach Lee Jasong's camp there tomorrow morning. After receiving the news, Lee Jasong would send another messenger here. Dong Bongsu could then decide his next move according to the orders that arrived.

For now, the business at Mount Manhan was settled. More precisely, it would only be over once the remaining Northern Ghosts were exterminated, but that, too, would soon be resolved.

And yet...

Something still felt unpleasantly wrong. Like the sticky blood drying in tacky patches all over his face and body.

"Captain. The tents are ready."

A mercenary approached to report that the tents had been erected. Like Dong Bongsu, he was covered in bright-red blood. Even now, he was growing redder, as blood continued to drip from the ear sack slung over his shoulder, soaking his shoulder and back.

The other mercenaries probably all looked the same. He did not need to see them to know.

"Tell every mercenary to wipe the blood off thoroughly before going to sleep."

"Yes, Captain."

Humans were not the only things that loved blood. There were bugs—particularly invisible bacteria and viruses—that loved blood very much indeed. They were every bit as vicious as humans. Catch the wrong one, and no one could survive. Not that the people here knew anything about that.

Dong Bongsu walked past the mercenary toward his tent.

As always, his command tent stood at the center of the mercenaries' tents. It was a little larger and cleaner than the others surrounding it at a distance, but nothing particularly special.

The first thing Dong Bongsu did upon entering was not lie down, wash, or get something to eat.

He opened his Stats and Skills windows. He had reached Lv.30 during the battle, after all. Upon checking, he found that his stats had increased by one level's worth, but no new Skills, unusual events, or different Quests had appeared.

'Apparently it's not time for the second class advancement yet.'

He had wondered whether class advancement might come at twenty-level intervals, but apparently not. The next level at which he could expect one was forty. Until then, there was no real need to pay much attention to it. A second class advancement Quest might suddenly appear at level thirty-five, but that was hardly something to worry about now either.

Dong Bongsu examined the windows a little longer before closing them. There seemed to be no major differences from an ordinary Level Up. He gave the blood on his body a quick wash and lay down on the tiger-skin-covered bed.

Perhaps the tiger skin had gone too long without washing. It was crawling with fleas. Realizing that prey had delivered itself to them, the fleas climbed onto Dong Bongsu one by one, flaunting their greed for blood.

Unbothered, Dong Bongsu closed his eyes and tried to sleep. With no recovery Items, sleep was his only means of recovery apart from cutting down enemies with [Blood Drain]. He was not about to give that up over a few fleas.

He could hardly expect a cleaner bed on a battlefield anyway.

Lying in bed, Dong Bongsu briefly reviewed his day before gradually drifting off. Squeaking rats disturbed his sleep for a moment, but soon he sank into oblivion.

The night deepened, and another day passed.

Morning dawned.

Was he waiting for the scouts he had sent out last night? Dong Bongsu stood at the foot of Mount Manhan, exposed to the biting wind. Infiltrating under cover of darkness would have taken some time, but they should have completed a fair amount of reconnaissance by now. At the earliest, they might already be returning.

As if to prove him right, the scouts began appearing one by one not long afterward. Perhaps it was from suffering the cold all night, but every face had turned a bluish hue. Even so, they swiftly ran up to Dong Bongsu and bowed their heads.

"Captain. We have a serious problem! I think we need to leave immediately."

The scout who had spent the longest as a wandering mercenary delivered his report in an urgent voice.

Dong Bongsu tilted his head at an angle. His bangs, which had grown longer during this ear hunt, fell sideways with the motion, revealing his clear, colorless eyes. An elusive gray gleam hovered within them.

"Tell me slowly, from the beginning."

At Dong Bongsu's quiet but forceful voice, the veteran mercenary straightened his back and spoke again.

"Our reconnaissance found that all of Mount Manhan was already dead."

"Mount Manhan is dead? What do you mean?"

"Plague. A plague has spread through it. Not just the Northern Ghost Corps' mountain stronghold, but the northern barbarians' village halfway up the mountain too. Groans never stop throughout the village."

Plague. A short word meaning an epidemic, an infectious disease. Yet no word could more succinctly define their present situation.

At last, Dong Bongsu understood the source of yesterday's unease. He also understood why there had been so few Northern Ghosts, and why they had abandoned their advantage in terrain to face the mercenaries below the mountain.

Yesterday, the enemy had deployed every man they could muster! They had not been plotting anything at all. No, more precisely, the Northern Ghosts probably could never have done so in the first place.

'Had an epidemic spread throughout Mount Manhan?'

Being martial artists did not make them inhuman. They were a little faster and a little stronger than others, but they were still only people. Even they had no way to fend off the invisible enemy called germs.

'Even so...'

Martial artists ought to have stronger immune systems than ordinary people. An infectious disease capable of killing even them...

The names of several infectious diseases surfaced in Dong Bongsu's mind.

'Don't tell me...!'

A memory of the worst of those diseases suddenly sprang from where it had lain hidden deep in his mind. At the same time, its symptoms came back to him with perfect clarity.

Those symptoms were...