The return to Jeonghwa was silent, broken only by the creaking of wheels and the constant gust of cold wind. Jin walked beside the central cart, this time with a different posture. He still carried no weapons. He still wore no armor. But there was something in his steps — firmness, focus, intention. As if an invisible thread was pulling him toward the next stage of himself.
Upon reaching the courtyard of the Seokjin Transport Company, the workers began unloading the carts while Baekho watched from the top of the wooden staircase leading to the office. The sun tinged the sky orange, and the men's shadows stretched like silent ghosts on the stone ground.
— Jin! — Baekho's deep voice cut through the air like a blade.
The young man stopped, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and turned around.
— From today on, you will accompany the escorts. You won't carry boxes anymore. You will protect them.
Murmurs spread among the others, but no one dared to contest. Baekho's eyes left no room for doubt. Jin simply bowed his head in respect.
Chi immediately appeared beside him, materializing with a theatrical whistle.
— Shadow guard... sounds like the title of a cheap romance. But I like it. Let's see how long it lasts before turning into a tragic poem.
Jin ignored him. But inside, he felt the weight of responsibility — and the fire of opportunity.
The following days were spent in preparation. Jin received a simple uniform, reinforced with leather plates and black fabric, designed for mobility and stealth. It wasn't elite armor, but it was his first official attire as part of the escort.
Baekho also handed him a short, sharp, and well-balanced blade.
— This isn't for playing the hero. It's for survival. Use it only if necessary.
The first time Jin held the sword, he felt the weight of the iron. But he also felt something deeper — the echo of the book inside him, the call of blood.
Chi watched with crossed arms, a curious expression.
— You're still inexperienced, kid. But your instinct isn't wrong. Let's work on that.
The second mission came quickly. A shorter route, but more dangerous: a crossing to the coastal village of Nagan, known for its jade merchants and roads infested with opportunistic bandits.
The caravan was smaller, with only five carts and two veteran escorts. Jin would now be the third.
Baekho pulled him aside before departure:
— You don't need to prove anything to anyone. But watch everything. Learn with every step. Only then, fight.
Jin nodded. His eyes were calm but intense.
During the march, he walked beside the carts, observing the flanks, the hills, the hollow trunks. At night, while the others rested, he would step away to train.
Chi gave him no respite.
— Again. Focus the Qi on your ankles. Shift the body's weight before the impulse. You're as slow as a drunken old man.
— I'm tired — Jin muttered, panting, wiping the blood from his lip after falling on a rock.
— Tired is for the dead. You're alive. So move like it.
And Jin moved. In pain, with hesitation, but also with growth. Each night, his movement technique flowed better. His perception heightened. He could now sense distant presences. He heard the silence of ambushes before they happened.
On the third day, still one day away from Nagan, they stopped in a clearing to camp. The wind carried a scent of sea salt. But also a metallic hint... blood.
Chi appeared without warning, his expression grim.
— They're close. Three, maybe four. And they're hungry.
Jin rose silently, his hand on the sword's hilt. His eyes scanned the bushes.
And there, something glinted. A gaze in the dark. A contained movement.
He took a step forward, his breathing slowing. His body was preparing. And for the first time, he didn't feel fear. He felt... readiness.