Chapter 248: Bloody War (2)

It had been a while since I last visited Choi Seol-ah’s house.

I took the opportunity to catch her while she was preparing dinner and have a chat with Horn as well.

“How’s life at the academy? Is it going well?”

“Yes!”

Horn nodded vigorously while chewing on a mouthful of Korean beef.

Her lips were glistening with grease. When I handed her a napkin, she quickly wiped her mouth and started talking.

“Everyone was much nicer than I expected! They were a bit distant at first, but over time they really started looking out for me. Especially Speedweapon… Weapon?”

I corrected her friend’s name.

“Speedweapon.”

“Ah, right. Well, that Speedweapon-nim helped me a lot in adjusting.”

“He’s a good kid. Worth getting along with.”

“He talks way too much and explains things I didn’t even ask about, but besides that, he’s a great person.”

Wow, her Korean had improved again. She even had punch to her words now. At this rate, she’d soon master the final level of Korean K-style satire.

At that moment, Choi Seol-ah, who was diligently grilling the meat, chimed in.

“I told you not to eat with your hands. Use a fork and knife. Do you not listen when people talk? Do you eat like that at the academy too?”

Wearing an apron, Choi Seol-ah began scolding. Horn picked her ear with her pinky finger, looking annoyed.

“I use utensils in the academy cafeteria.”

“Then why are you eating with your hands at home, Miss Yonggari?”

“Because this is my house. And because you’re here. I don’t see a reason to maintain decorum. Also, according to the contract, I’m Party A and you’re Party B. Don’t forget that.”

It wasn’t a serious argument. Horn clearly had the upper hand, and Choi Seol-ah could barely put up a defense. It was obvious who the winner was.

“You…!”

Choi Seol-ah ended up holding her head like she wanted to tear her hair out. Maybe she was frustrated at losing an argument to someone who’d only been studying Korean for six months. Or maybe she was just fuming at being the legally inferior Party B. Either way, not my problem.

I calmly chewed another piece of hanwoo. The meat was delicious and tender. I tried it with a bit of pink Himalayan salt. The light touch of salt melted like soft snow on my tongue, and the elegant aroma of the meat filled my mouth.

I glanced at Choi Seol-ah. Maybe all the meat she’s cooked had paid off—she was good at grilling now.

Meanwhile, Seol-ah pounded the floor with her fist from her knees. The vibration traveled all the way to the soles of my feet.

“I never should’ve taken in a black-haired beast!”

Black-haired beast? Was that aimed at me?

I furrowed my brows, but it was Horn who spoke up for me.

“What if the neighbors complain? Noise between floors is a serious issue!”

“And you don’t think about the noise you cause me, huh? Sir! I can’t live with this long-eared one anymore. Can’t we send her to the Demon Territory? Please?”

As Seol-ah exploded, the phone on the table buzzed. It was Vixbig.

[Sir Geom-Ma.]

Vixbig spoke from the lit screen, her tone grave.

[There’s a message from the Sword Master in Hawaii. If you’d like, I can read it aloud.]

Silence filled the room. Seol-ah stopped talking. Horn set down the piece of meat in her hand.

They both knew what “Hawaii” and “Sword Master” meant. I had already given them a rough explanation. Seol-ah was a villain, and Horn a demon—better for them to be informed.

That’s why they surely understood instantly.

I was the one who broke the silence.

“No. Tell me outside. And contact the Director and Meain. Let them know I’m heading straight to Hawaii.”

I stood and grabbed my coat from the back of the chair. Just then, Horn grabbed my wrist.

“I’m coming with you, sir.”

Horn said. And Seol-ah added,

“I’ll go too, my lord.”

I was speechless. Both of them were willing to go with me to the battlefield. Even the ever-cautious Choi Seol-ah. A lump caught in my throat.

“I appreciate the sentiment.”

I shook my head and gently released Horn’s hand.

“But this time, I have to go alone.”

I looked her straight in the eye.

“Horn, if you show up there, it could cause a major issue. Dragons are a demon race of neutral alignment. If you appear in the middle of a conflict between humanity and a Corps Commander, how do you think that’ll be interpreted?”

Horn replied quietly.

“They’ll say a dragon is siding with humanity…”

“Last time we only managed to keep things under wraps because we captured all the dark elves and the news didn’t leak. But that was pure luck.”

Then I turned to Choi Seol-ah.

“Also, it’s already been decided with the Association that the Academy staff will remain here. That’s why neither the Director nor Meain will be involved this time.”

“Why?”

“Because if everyone goes to Hawaii, the Academy’s safety is compromised. What if demons attack while we’re gone?”

We had already learned that. The hard way.

“A repeat of the Joaquin disaster…”

“Exactly. That’s why a reserve force must always remain at the Academy. If anything happens, you two must act. I won’t interfere with that.”

“Understood.”

Choi Seol-ah and Horn responded almost in unison. Just moments ago they’d been arguing, yet now they were perfectly in sync. Maybe that’s why they got along.

“Sir.”

Just as I was about to leave, Choi Seol-ah, still wearing her apron, called out.

“I’ll have the best hanwoo ready.”

I gave her a sidelong smile and waved a hand.

“I’m tired of beef. Make it fish.”

I left and headed to the subspace warp. First stop Incheon Airport. From there, I’d take a private flight with a layover to reach Hawaii.

A rather inconvenient process. But there was no alternative. The Hawaii portal was inside the Demon Territory’s influence, so space warping didn’t work there.

“If I hurry, how long will it take?”

[Approximately 10 hours,]

Vixbig replied to my mumble.

[If I push full capacity, I can reduce it to about 7 hours.]

“And if you push harder?”

[6 hours and 30 minutes.]

“Perfect. Do it in 5.”

[…]

Ignoring Vixbig’s silent sigh, I set off. Time was running out.

***

The area near the portal was a hive of activity. Workers were installing barricades and barbed wire; among them, Association staff moved hurriedly from place to place; heroes checked their weapons and gear.

Everyone was fulfilling their duties in silence, with heavy or exhausted expressions.

At the center of the area stood a massive temporary tent. Only a select few were allowed inside— the Sword Master, high-ranking Association officials, and generals of the Japanese army tasked with leading and coordinating the site.

“@#*%^$&!”

They had been in a strategic meeting for hours, and more than once, angry shouts and exclamations leaked from within.

Workers would glance sideways at the entrance curtain as they passed, but continued their tasks as if it didn’t concern them. In contrast, Association employees and Japanese heroes stared anxiously at the tent, holding their breath.

Everyone wanted the same thing—for their commanders to raise their voices with authority. Because that would mean a better chance at survival.

Under the mission to eliminate the Fourth Corps Commander, forces had gathered. But in the face of death, people become selfish. And reflecting that collective feeling, the leaders raised their voices inside the tent.

“Is this a joke!? You’re telling me now that the Japanese army wants to stay in the rear!? Isn’t it a bit shameless to try to preserve your forces at this stage!?”

Director Sung growled, clenching his teeth as he faced the woman in front of him. Her name was Remi, a three-star general and the highest authority in the Japanese army.

“Japan is here merely as support.”

Remi answered with her arms crossed. Director Sung’s prosthetic arm slammed against the table. Pens and pencils jumped like popcorn.

“Listen. Do you think we’re doing this for convenience? The Corps Commander could attack us as soon as tomorrow! And you came all the way here just to say that? You should be ashamed!”

“Director Sung.”

Remi furrowed her brows slightly and uncrossed her arms.

“We may be in different groups, but I outrank you. I suggest you watch your tone.”

“Then act like it. That ‘hands-off’ attitude is cowardly.”

“Cowardly?”

Remi tilted her head. An assistant whispered the translation in her ear, and only then did she react.

“Are you insulting me!? I’ll consider this a serious affront to Japan.”

“Yeah, yeah, take it however you want. If you pull back now, Japan will be criticized worldwide. So I’ll consider myself the first to say it. What an honor.”

As the argument escalated, both gestures and words grew more intense. Just when the tension was about to boil over, the Sword Master intervened.

“I’ve kept quiet because I’m retired from the Seven Stars… but I can’t watch this any longer.”

Remi took a step back. The veteran’s presence overwhelmed her.

“If you want to fight, do it with swords, not your tongues. Anyone can shout.”

The Sword Master rested his hand on his sword’s hilt.

“Maybe it’d be simpler to cut the problem down right here.”

Confusion spread across Remi’s face, quickly turning to shame. She opened her mouth bitterly.

“I hate to admit it, but I don’t have full authority over decisions here…”

She, too, was a Warrior-ranked hero and a soldier. Acting in such an undignified manner wasn’t her choice. Staying in the rear was shameful. But a soldier follows orders. She had been told not to move forward, and she had to obey. That was the military hierarchy.

“Remi, I understand your position.”

The Sword Master spoke calmly.

“But you know this isn’t the time to act on principle. It’s a matter of conscience now.”

“…”

Remi couldn’t respond. It hurt not being able to say with confidence, “You’re right.”

To resolve this situation, it would take the intervention of one of the Seven Stars. And none were present. The Master himself had said he was retired. His words carried little official weight.

Only then did Director Sung realize the situation and stopped pressing. He even felt some sympathy for her.

‘She was so aggressive… and it was all because of an internal conflict.’

Flap.

Suddenly, a heavy presence stirred at the entrance. Everyone turned, startled, just as a voice broke the tension.

“Come on, open this tent up a bit. It’s hard to breathe in here.”

Changseong entered, pushing aside the tent’s flap. Everyone stared, stunned. Even Director Sung hadn’t known he would be attending in person.

“I overheard something before coming in. Looks like the commanders can’t agree. And what do you do in times like this? You bring in someone who can boss everyone around.”

He smiled as he stepped aside, letting someone else in.

“I was in France when I got the call. Swung by to pick him up. Talk about perfect timing. Couldn’t be better.”

A firm, dark presence entered the tent. Tension and conflict vanished in an instant.

“With so many chairs, why is everyone still standing?”

Kang Geom-Ma scratched his head as he spoke. Everyone, as if their legs had given out, collapsed into their seats.