Chapter 223: Standing Tall Once More Beneath the Fallen Sky (2)

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Han Seon-Woo hurried after Ha Jin-Wol.

Everything he laid eyes on fascinated him. The Northern Army sat in a basin high in the mountains, so building materials were naturally scarce. The houses were made of stone, the most common material on hand, and they looked shabby.

Shabby as the houses were, life there was strangely abundant. The warriors wore good-quality clothes and ate varied food. The weapons they carried gleamed, a clear sign they had been issued recently.

"It's a meaningful day, welcoming the Strategist's disciple. We have to celebrate."

Han Seon-Woo's mind raced. Even out here in such a remote place, the Northern Army keeps a steady supply of necessities coming. That means they have a solid source of funding.

He tilted his head in confusion. There was no other way to explain their current state.

Hwang Cheol regarded Han Seon-Woo warmly.

Ha Jin-Wol smiled. He must be brimming with questions right now, but I can't tell him everything from the start. Time will answer them all.

Set against its former glory it still fell painfully short, yet that they had preserved even this much strength was nothing short of a miracle.

He led Han Seon-Woo to the small training ground behind the large one. Unlike the main ground crowded with martial artists, only a handful of people stood here.

Hwang Cheol regarded Han Seon-Woo warmly.

Han Seon-Woo's face lit up when he spotted a familiar face among them.

"You're awake," Kwak Moon-Jung greeted, smiling warmly.

"Hyung!"

Kwak Moon-Jung threw his arms wide and pulled Han Seon-Woo into a hug. "Welcome to the Northern Army."

Over Kwak Moon-Jung's shoulder, Han Seon-Woo saw the others watching him. There was a skinny old man who looked past seventy, and a sturdy middle-aged man in his early forties. Another middle-aged man carried a sharp impression like a honed sword, and a giant of a man had a face so bristling with hair he resembled a hedgehog.

Han Seon-Woo swallowed dryly. Every one of them gave off an extraordinary aura.

Ha Jin-Wol smiled and began the introductions, starting with the skinny old man with an overwhelming aura that dominated the space around him. "This is our Elder, Master Kyung Mu-Saeng. People call him the Wind Emperor."

Han Seon-Woo bowed hurriedly. "My name is Han Seon-Woo. I look forward to being in your care."

He asked Kyung Mu-Saeng to become a traitor.

As he greeted the elder, Han Seon-Woo had no idea how formidable Kyung Mu-Saeng was. Had anyone else been present to hear the name, they would have been utterly astonished.

The Wind Emperor Kyung Mu-Saeng was one of the Four Northern Pillars, master of the world's fastest movement arts and most ferocious kicking technique. When the Northern Army was wiped out, he had founded the Tempest Mountain Manor with his followers, and now he had resurfaced within the Northern Army.

"My name is Han Seon-Woo. I look forward to being in your care."

Kyung Mu-Saeng's eyes shone as he looked at Han Seon-Woo. "So you're the disciple the Strategist took in. I look forward to your company, Little Strategist."

For all his cold appearance, his voice brimmed with affection.

"This is our doyen, Master Hwang Cheol. He's Moon-Jung's master, the one you've sworn brotherhood with, so I guess that makes him something like an uncle to you."

Ha Jin-Wol introduced the next person. "This is our doyen, Master Hwang Cheol. He's Moon-Jung's master, the one you've sworn brotherhood with, so I guess that makes him something like an uncle to you."

Hwang Cheol regarded Han Seon-Woo warmly. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Seon-Woo."

So if you ever run into trouble, come to me anytime."

"Greetings, I'm Han Seon-Woo."

"Welcome to the Northern Army."

"Thank you for the warm welcome."

He tilted his head in confusion.

"A disciple of the Strategist is like my own child, and if you're sworn brothers with Moon-Jung, that makes you my nephew. So if you ever run into trouble, come to me anytime."

For all his cold appearance, his voice brimmed with affection.

"Thank you."

Tears welled in Han Seon-Woo's eyes at Hwang Cheol's kind words. He could feel the sincerity behind them.

Their backgrounds, values, and ways of thinking were all at odds.

Ha Jin-Wol went on with the introductions. "This is our Sword Lord, Master Seo Mu-Sang, and beside him is the Martial Lord, Master Ma Do-Gwang. They oversee our fighting strength. You'd do well to seek their guidance often in the days ahead."

"I look forward to being in your care, Masters."

"A pleasure to meet you, Seon-Woo," Seo Mu-Sang said politely.

The giant called Ma Do-Gwang ruffled Han Seon-Woo's hair with his huge hand. "Hehe! You look sharp enough, but don't bury your nose in books all day, or your head will grow mold. Come out to the training grounds now and then. I'll teach you enough martial arts to defend yourself."

Han Seon-Woo's hair ended up a mess, but he didn't mind. Ma Do-Gwang's manner of speaking was terribly rough, but there wasn't a trace of malice in it.

"These are the key figures who lead our organization. If there's anything you don't understand, go to them for guidance."

"I'll keep that in mind." Han Seon-Woo bowed his head deeply.

Ha Jin-Wol watched his disciple with a pleased expression.

Just then, Ma Do-Gwang clapped Seo Mu-Sang on the shoulder. "Come on, let's have a drink."

"A drink?"

"It's a meaningful day, welcoming the Strategist's disciple. We have to celebrate."

"So you just want to drink in the morning."

Ma Do-Gwang paid no mind to Seo Mu-Sang's rebuke. "Hehe! A celebratory drink is in order, isn't it? Isn't that right, Strategist?"

Seo Mu-Sang merely shook his head.

Ma Do-Gwang's alias was the Blood-Eyed Mad Tiger. He was the boss of the Flying Desolation Gang, a bandit group that once ruled the north.

While little known in the Central Plains, the Flying Desolation Gang was synonymous with terror across the Northern Regions. They increased their power by absorbing other bandit groups based in the north, growing to over a thousand members.

Countless sects tried to subdue the gang, all in vain. Unlike martial artists who relied solely on their individual prowess, the Flying Desolation Gang rode horses and wielded swords and bows like demons.

They were closer to an army than to any murim sect.

They were closer to an army than to any murim sect. Strict internal discipline kept their forces in line, and their enemies were laid to waste by their flawlessly coordinated tactics. After annihilating a dozen sects that tried to subdue them, no sect in the Northern Regions could stand against them.

At the heart of it all stood the Blood-Eyed Mad Tiger, Ma Do-Gwang. He looked ordinary enough, but once his eyes turned red, he was pure terror incarnate.