The Day It Broke
On the day the Special Operations Unit first exploded,
the entire Ming camp was wrapped in a tension that could not be seen—
yet rang endlessly, like metal vibrating under strain.
Problems erupted everywhere.
Grievances spilled out.
It was the mistake of forcing fundamentally different beings
into a single standard.
As the night deepened,
an unnameable, unsettling current swayed between the tents.
Just before dawn—
that hour before darkness fully loosened its grip—
Several martial artists exchanged silent looks.
A young man with a curved blade strapped to his back muttered,
"This place is hell too. Military law? It's just a leash."
"That bastard's not right in the head."
Another answered quietly,
"Let's go over there. Across the river—to Chen Youliang's side."
"They're enemies for now, but at least they don't treat the martial world like dogs."
A third added,
"I heard the Goryeo army's there too."
"They say the待遇's good."
The mood shifted instantly.
The Goryeo army had already shown, through multiple engagements,
how it dealt with the martial world.
Not by pressing military law—
but by understanding the nature of fighters.
They respected and requested.
They did not bark orders.
Even Park Seong-jin, a commander of armies,
could not simply command Song Yi-sul,
the de facto head of the warrior band.
To martial artists,
that was a clear standard of safety.
The voices gathered again.
"Right. Let's go there."
"If we're going to die, let's die properly."
In the end, about fifteen slipped out of the tents in secret.
They muffled their steps,
but their presence remained intact.
Morning mist rose over the river.
Beyond it, the silhouettes of Goryeo sentries appeared.
A moment later,
a single Goryeo horse approached cautiously.
On its back rode a sturdy man with an unfamiliar face—
Jong Hui, a Goryeo junior commander.
Deliberately, he took his hand off his sword hilt and halted.
The deserters stepped forward, disordered.
One spoke for them.
"We're looking for a place to live."
"Zhu Yuanzhang will kill us."
"He demands humiliation. He demands we abandon our names."
"He binds us with military law."
"Disobey, and it's execution."
He drew his sword and laid it on the ground.
"If you want to kill us, do it here."
"But before that—decide."
"Will you make us enemies, or comrades?"
Jong Hui studied them briefly, then spoke quietly.
"I'll report to the Commander."
"No one is killed lightly here."
The moment he finished,
the tension visibly drained from their shoulders.
After the deserters slipped away,
chaos in Zhu Yuanzhang's camp only intensified.
Once word spread that defectors were not being punished immediately,
more martial artists began to move.
The procession continued through the morning.
Inside a tent, a frantic cry burst out.
"Your Majesty! Half of the Special Operations Unit is gone!"
Zhu Yuanzhang leapt from his bedding and stormed outside.
Half were already dead or wounded from yesterday's disaster.
Now half of the remainder was gone.
That meant there was almost nothing left.
His eyes shone like a bloodshot beast's.
"Who fled?" he roared.
"We're compiling a list—"
Bang.
Zhu Yuanzhang's fist smashed into the officer's face.
"Compiling?" he screamed.
"Are your eyes decorations?"
"Disobeying military law is treason!"
His ferocity swallowed the camp.
What remained of the Special Operations Unit began moving entirely on impulse.
One martial artist seized an officer's sword and slit his throat.
Another kicked over barrels, set fire, and burned tents.
Another grappled directly with heavily armored soldiers.
The soldiers tried to hold formation—
but the moment a few masters struck, they collapsed.
Three armored troops lay on the ground, limbs twisted.
A Sichuan assassin pierced five vital points in succession.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Thud.
Bodies fell, choking on blood.
The explosion spread across the entire camp.
As riot sounds erupted on all sides,
Zhu Yuanzhang drew his blade and screamed,
"Kill them all!"
"Ungrateful bastards!"
"Kill every last one!"
At that moment, Liu Bowen grabbed his arm.
Firmly, he said,
"Your Majesty."
"At this very moment, the army has already slipped from your control."
"Let go!" Zhu Yuanzhang shouted.
Liu Bowen cried out again, nearly screaming,
"Your Majesty! This is not rebellion."
"This is proof that your control has collapsed!"
Zhu Yuanzhang froze.
He could feel it—clearly—
the camp collapsing around him.
From afar, watching the chaos,
Park Seong-jin muttered coldly,
"That won't last."
"No army holds together under command like that."
Yi In-jung nodded.
"That's what happens when you force the martial world into chains."
"That chaos will soon become our opportunity."
Light slowly entered Park Seong-jin's eyes.
"Then it's time to move."
He immediately went to find Yun Dam.