Breaking SSS-Rank Heroines

Jinhae

Ahyun stared at me from across the chamber.

“Wait?” The word came out strangled. “Young Master, Lady Minji is—”

“I heard the report.” I crossed to the packs stacked against the far wall. “Seojun is taking thirty men. He leaves within the hour. The moment his column clears the east road, we move.”

She shook her head, not in refusal but confusion. Her voice pitched higher. Her chest jumped with every sharp breath.

“But why not go now? Every moment—”

“Because thirty armed riders leaving from the front gate will swallow every eye in the household. Even the kitchen aunties will be hanging off the veranda railings to watch the second son charge out to play hero.” I pulled the first pack open and began sorting its contents. “No one will notice three shadows slipping out the side gate while the performance is happening.”

Understanding flickered behind those wide azure eyes.

I stepped in close enough that the front of my robes brushed the soft undersides of her tits. One hand cupped the heavy left breast through the cloth, thumb dragging once across the nipple until it stiffened into a hard little peak.

“Listen carefully.” I pinched. Hard enough to make her knees dip and a wet little sound escape her throat. “I need three horses. Saddled. Watered. You know which groom owes you favors?”

“O-Old Byeong—” She gasped when I rolled the nipple between thumb and finger. “He… he has a soft spot for me. I bring him ginger tea when his knees ache.”

“Go to Old Byeong. Tell him nothing except that Young Master Kang requires three mounts readied at the western stable.”

Ahyun nodded, the servant training snapping her spine straight even through the fear and the fresh ache in her clit.

“And if Old Byeong asks why?”

“If he does, tell him the eldest son has autonomy now. He can take it up with the Patriarch if he doubts it.” I gave both nipples one last mean flick through the hanfu and watched her whole body jerk.

“Y-yes, Young Master—”

She swallowed once. Then she was gone.

I turned back to the packs.

Three sets of supplies. I had built them over two days of city errands without knowing exactly when this event would fire. The game’s timing was variable—anywhere between the third and fifth day after the duel, depending on hidden route flags. The core trigger was always the same: Lady Seo and Minji’s escort gets ambushed on the Yeongwol road. Guardsman Yeon survives. The second son rides out like a fool.

And the first son—if the player was smart enough, if they had the right items, if they had a combat partner ready—took the back door.

Any other player character could walk into that bandit camp and cut through thirty men like wet paper.

Museong at this stage of the game had Martial Spirit in the nineties. Battle Instinct nearly as high. A single sword technique from the Baek family repertoire could split a dozen bodies before the Qi cost even registered.

Jinhae had Physical Strength nineteen. Agility fourteen. Endurance twenty-two. Internal Energy zero. Martial Spirit zero. Battle Instinct zero.

I could barely fight one bandit if he stood still and let me hit him first.

That’s why I got the special item. I set it on top of my pack.

Distant shouting carried through the corridor. Boots on stone. Horses moving in the main stable. Seojun’s voice cutting above the noise, sharp and commanding, playing the general he wanted to be.

Go on, little brother. Take the front door. Burn daylight searching every ridge and hollow on the Yeongwol road.

I finished the packs and stacked them by the door. Then I washed my face, changed into the dark traveling robes, and listened.

Thirty horses. Armored riders. The clatter of weapons and shouted orders crescendoed, peaked, and then began to fade as the column pushed out through the main gate and onto the east road.

The estate went quiet.

I picked up my pack, slung it across one shoulder, grabbed Seolhwa’s, and walked out.

The private training yard was empty.

I crossed it in four strides and knocked on the frame of the open corridor that led to Seolhwa’s guest chamber.

She appeared in the doorway within seconds. White-and-blue travel robes already on. Both swords sheathed at her hip. The bandage on her forearm had been changed. Cropped dark hair still damp at the temples. The bindings that flattened those tiny tits every dawn were clearly still locked tight underneath.

“Kang Jinhae.” The boyish voice stayed level, but a faint flush already touched the high ridges of her cheekbones. “Thirty riders just left your estate. What’s happening?”

I held the third pack out to her.

“My stepmother and half-sister were traveling the Yeongwol road with a twelve-man escort. They were ambushed yesterday in one of the mountain passes. The escort is dead. One guardsman survived long enough to ride back and report. Lady Seo and my sister Minji were dragged alive into the trees.”

Her gaze dropped to the pack, then back to my face.

“And the column that just rode out?”

“Seojun. Taking our best men to the ambush site.” I kept the pack extended. “He won’t find them there.”

“And you know where they are.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I have a strong suspicion.” The pack stayed between us. “I need a sword. You’re the best one I have access to. Come with me.”

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SEOLHWA (Disguised)

Concealed Heir — Namgung Sword Sect

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Affection ............... 35 / 100

Trust ................... 82 / 100

Lust .................... 52 / 100 (residual)

Submission .............. 22 / 100

Fear .................... 19 / 100

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*— Debt of Life: Active

*— Blade Honor: High

*— Strength Obsession: Extreme

*— “He saved me. His family is in danger. Walking away would be cowardice.”

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Blade Honor and the Debt of Life stacked perfectly. And underneath all of it, buried where she refused to look, the memory of my soapy palms on her back, my cock brushing her thigh in the bath, the slow Will heat I had poured into her lower dantian during spars and corrections—all of it whispered that staying close to Kang Jinhae meant something good for her.

She took the pack.

“How many?” she asked, slinging it over one shoulder. The swords shifted at her hip.

“The report said thirty. Possibly more.”

Her expression didn’t change, but her fingers tightened on the pack strap.

“Three against thirty.”

“Three against thirty,” I confirmed. “But I have no intention of fighting them.”

She stared at me.

“Then what exactly is the plan?”

“I’ll explain on the road. We’re losing daylight. Can you ride?”

A faint crease appeared between her brows, offense at the question more than anything. Color still high on her cheekbones.

“I’ve been riding since I was six.”

“Good. Follow me.”

We cut through the side corridors of my wing and emerged near the western stable behind the granary.

Ahyun was already there.

Three horses stood saddled in a neat line. The mounts were mountain-bred animals with thick legs and good lungs.

Old Byeong himself was nowhere in sight.

Ahyun turned the moment she heard our boots. Her gaze jumped from me to Seolhwa and back.

“Mount up.”

Ahyun swung into the saddle.

Seolhwa vaulted onto hers like she had been born on a horse’s back.

I climbed onto the third horse with considerably less elegance. But the saddle held and the mare stood patient beneath me.

I pointed west.

“Let’s use the side gate.”

We rode out through the narrow western gate that opened onto the service road behind the Kang compound. The guard post was unmanned; every spare body had been pulled to see Seojun’s column off or reassigned to bolster the main walls.

The road wound through rice paddies first, then climbed into the low hills west of the city. I pushed the pace to a fast trot.

Every stride dragged her stiff nipples across the cotton again and again.

Seolhwa rode tight and controlled. She drew alongside me once we cleared the last farmstead.

“Where are we going?”

“The Yeongwol road runs northeast through three mountain passes,” I said. “That’s where the ambush happened. Seojun will ride straight to the site, pick up the tracks, and follow them into the high ridges. He’ll spend two days combing every ravine and campsite along the main trail.”

“And?”

“And the bandits won’t be on the main trail.” I kept my eyes on the road ahead. “These mountains are old. Hundreds of mining spots from two generations back. Most of the shafts collapsed or flooded years ago. But there’s one—an abandoned copper mine near the base of the western face. The entrance is hidden behind a rockslide that looks natural unless you know the place.”

Seolhwa’s brow furrowed. A bead of sweat slid down the elegant line of her throat and disappeared into the collar of her robes.

“How do you know about it?”

Because the game guide lists it as the optimal bandit hideout for this event. Because I cleared this exact scenario four times on different routes. Because the speedrun community mapped every entrance, every ventilation shaft, every blind corner inside that mine down to the pixel.

“Old texts,” I said. “My mother’s family held mining rights in these mountains before the veins dried up. If I were a bandit chief looking to stash two noble hostages while I negotiated ransom, that’s where I’d go.”

“You’re guessing.”

“I am, but with very good odds.”

“And if you’re wrong?”

“Then we’ve lost half a day and we ride to catch up with Seojun’s column.”

She chewed on that. The competitive fire I had stoked across days of sparring worked in my favor. She wanted the decisive stroke.

“Fine.” She faced forward. “Say you’re right. Say we find the mine. Say thirty armed men are inside with your family. What then? I’m good, Jinhae. But even I cannot cut through thirty men in an enclosed space without getting killed. And you—”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

“I’m not asking you to fight thirty men,” I said.

I reached behind me into the saddlebag and pulled out the sealed leather pouch. I untied the cord and opened the flap.

Inside sat four thick bundles of dried leaves. Each one the size of my fist, wrapped tight in oiled cloth. The leaves were a deep, vivid green mottled with yellow spots. A faint bitter smell leaked through the wrapping.

I held one bundle up and passed it back to Ahyun.

She took it carefully. Brought it close to her face. Those wide azure eyes went huge.

“Young Master… this is Dreamer’s Leaf.”

Seolhwa glanced between us.

Ahyun turned the bundle in her fingers.

“Dreamer’s Leaf. It grows in deep caves where no sunlight reaches. The leaves are harmless raw.” She peeled back one corner of the oiled cloth and touched the mottled surface. The yellow spots were slightly tacky under her fingertip. “But when you burn them, the smoke changes. The oils in the yellow patches release a vapor that acts on the lungs and the blood. Within thirty breaths of inhaling concentrated smoke, a grown man loses consciousness. Deep, heavy sleep. The kind you don’t wake from for hours, no matter how much noise surrounds you.”

Seolhwa’s eyes sharpened.

“A soporific.”

“One of the most powerful ones,” Ahyun confirmed. She looked at me. “Young Master, how much of this do you have?”

I held the pouch open so both of them could see all four bundles packed tight inside.

“Enough to put an army to sleep.”