The flames did not go out for three days.The gate had already collapsed, and the stones were blackened as if burned through.Red smoke rose into the sky and slowly scattered.And over it, snow fell.At first, it looked like smoke.But it was cold.Snowflakes falling mixed with ash.It looked like ash left by the sky—or like traces of prayers burned down and left behind.Only after the sky had collapsed did the earth seem to catch its breath for a moment.
Park Seong-jin walked out beyond the camp.Half the wall had collapsed, and snow was piling on the debris.Engineers rebuilt the wall, and conscripted civilians carried heaps of earth.On stone, on blood, on corpses—snow settled without distinction.The flames still remained, yet snow fell even onto them.When it touched something hot, the snow melted at once, and smoke rose from that spot.Fire and snow mixed as if they were one body.Like the boundary between the living and the dead.
Seong-jin held out his hand and caught the snow.The snowflake melted on his palm into water, and in that water the smell of blood was mixed.
Beside him, Oh Jin-cheol spoke low."Snow can smell like this too, can it."Seong-jin lifted his head.The sky was white, and the ground was black.On that boundary, soldiers stood wordlessly, taking the snow.From far away, a bell rang.In a temple inside the fortress, a monk attached to the army was striking a broken bell.
"Are they chanting sutras for the dead?"Seong-jin asked.Oh Jin-cheol nodded."So they go someplace good.""Then do they go someplace good?"Even I can tell.They absolutely cannot go someplace good like that.No—there is no such thing as someplace good.Oh Jin-cheol answered as if to console him."We live in a world where that can be believed."
A world like that.A world where that can be believed.Those words stayed in his chest for a long time.White snow settled over the river of blood.The red color faded little by little, and what remained was a white, silent land.Seong-jin watched that scene for a long time.Each time the wind blew, ash and snow scattered together.Snow settling on flames looked as if it were covering all the sins of the world.
But Seong-jin knew.Even if fire goes out, the human heart does not.Snow covered that fire, and the fire did not go out even inside the snow.That was the winter of Liaoyang Fortress.Snow fallen on fire, peace resting on death, and the guilt of those who survived.
Liaoyang Fortress had fallen, but the war was not over.The fortress was no longer a "battlefield," but the army's "possession," and possession immediately became another order.The general's first commands were unexpectedly quiet."Put out the fire.""Block the gate.""Repair the walls quickly.""Call the record-keeper."
The flames endured for three days.Those who survived chose not so much to extinguish the fire as to let it burn out and go out, and to cover themselves in ash.Wet sacks of earth were thrown onto stone, and beams from the collapsed bell tower were dragged out.The fire pretended to go out and then flared again, as if refusing to die.In the meantime, snow fell over the walls.Snow touched the flames and melted immediately, and the melted water carried black ash as it flowed.That stream ran down along the alleys inside the fortress and washed away traces of people.Not so much washing as covering.
"From now on, it is military law."Hwang Hyun-pil's voice cut through the camp.He was no longer merely keen and quick.At the end of the siege, he had become a balanced "order.""No looting. No unauthorized killing. No arson.""Violators will be beheaded on the spot."
A low breath passed through the soldiers.This order was not mercy toward the enemy, but a kind of calculation that considered the morale of their own men.If looting begins, the army scatters, and a scattered army collapses easily.They lose the fortress they won with difficulty.If they lose the fortress, they lose the winter.If they lose the winter, this expedition ends.
Even hearing it, Seong-jin felt something strange.Hands that had been cutting off heads just moments ago now stopped hands from picking up another person's bowl.War changed its face like that.Before the blood even dried, the law arrived first.
Engineers rebuilt the gate.It was not a complete gate.It was a "throat"—a temporary frame hung with props, iron ropes, and logs.A device to count who enters and who leaves by tightening that throat.
The general's main force entered the fortress.Even on horseback, he did not hurry.Each time the hooves stepped on ash, there came a brittle sound—basarak, basarak.It sounded like stepping on human bones.Soldiers lowered their eyes, and someone swallowed.
"Check the warehouses first."With that single sentence, the direction of the army shifted.Not people, but grain first.Not honor, but salt first.War was always like that.The grain of Liaoyang Fortress was the most important condition for sustaining their occupation.
And fortunately, the food warehouses that the Liaoyang provincial administration had scraped together and piled up were intact.There was enough grain there to endure for years.
Deep inside the fortress, the district where the Liaodong provincial warehouses stood had double stone walls.The fact that the walls remained at all meant that place was the "core."
That is likely also why the White Lotus remnants could not burn that area to the end.They had not been trying to defend the fortress.They were trying to defend food.No—pretending to defend food, they were defending their own lives.
When engineers knocked down the wall, a smell came out.Not the smell of grain, but the smell of mold and rats.But even that was a blessing now.A foul smell meant there was still "something" inside.
The door opened.There were sacks.There were lumps.Jujube-wood boxes stood in rows, sealed with iron nails."Salt."Someone muttered.At that one word, the soldiers' eyes changed.Salt buys winter.Salt keeps horses alive and keeps people alive.In that moment, Seong-jin realized why they had come this far.Faith, banners, causes—at the end, this single box becomes the reason for war.
The record-keeper sat down.Ledgers were spread.Brushes were lifted."So many seok of grain.""So many boxes of salt.""So many bundles of iron arrowheads.""Gunpowder materials—sulfur, saltpeter."
Each time numbers came out, the air grew colder.Those who had been crying, those who had been laughing, all stiffened the same way before numbers.Seong-jin felt his chest becoming strangely calmer.A moment when numbers soothe the mind more than horrific scenes.That was more frightening.
"Prisoners?"Someone asked.The "living" inside the fortress had already been gathered.Those they could not kill, those who could not flee, and those they chose to spare.People kneeling on one side of the square.Half of them trembled without weapons, and the rest still moved their lips."Maitreya is coming…"That sound remained like snow.Each time Seong-jin heard it, the back of his neck went rigid.Not belief, but habit; not habit, but a final manner.Just before death, a person returns to his manner.
Hwang Hyun-pil approached and stood before those kneeling."Who commanded you."There was no answer."Who set the fire."Still none.Then an old man lifted his head.His eyes were red.He tried to speak, but only his lips trembled.It was the face of someone who dies if he speaks, and dies even if he does not.
Hwang Hyun-pil turned his head.His gaze did not go toward the general.It went toward the record-keeper."Sort them."That single word was a blade that split lives.City residents, occupation troops, former officials, and… Red Turbans, Yellow Turbans, White Lotus followers.
They were sorted and lined up.Just the line changing made people cry.Some begged to be spared, some chanted louder.Some laughed.It was not joy, but the sound a collapsed mind makes.Watching it, Seong-jin felt cold inside.This was not revenge, and not punishment.It was "cleanup" that comes after war.Cleanup was colder than a blade.
"Houses?"An engineer reported."Mostly burned. Few households surviving. Many wounded."The general mounted his horse.Following his habit of surveying a fortress once, he passed through burned alleys.From horseback, his gaze looked not at flames, but at structure.Where the commercial district had been, where the wells were, where the market had been.Where it could live again.Where it could not—there was no need to say.
Following behind, Seong-jin thought,'This man… even while destroying a fortress, he was counting the fortress.'
The general stopped at a temple.A bell tower half collapsed.Beneath it, a monk was still striking the bell.His hands shook, the bell sound creaked, but it did not stop.
The general asked."How many monks remain in this fortress."The monk bowed his head and answered."The living… are three.""Then three is enough."It sounded like mercy, but it was not mercy.Three becomes "function."They can perform burials, calm the people, and hold the hearts of the soldiers.The bell sound was that role.
The general turned and told the soldiers,"This fortress must be revived again.""Put out the fire, open the water, lock the warehouses.""From tonight, this fortress is our land."
At that moment, something inside Seong-jin snapped cleanly.Our land.Those words were too simple, and swallowed too much.
Walking through the collapsed alleys, Seong-jin saw the jar again.A blackened jar.Smoke still rose from inside.It was the jar the woman had held earlier.The woman was not there.Perhaps someone took her away in the night.Perhaps she froze to death as she was.Only the jar remained.When a person goes, what remains is always an object.
Seong-jin could not take even a single step closer.You do not reach out to what you know.Because you know, it is more frightening.
Behind him, Oh Jin-cheol spoke low."You know now, don't you."Without turning his head, Seong-jin asked,"Know what."Oh Jin-cheol let out a long breath."War isn't the fight.""War… only begins after it ends."
Seong-jin bit his lip.The smell of fire and snow mixed together caught at his nostrils.Then Hwang Hyun-pil's voice rang out again."Repair the walls! Organize shifts!""Rework the food rations!""Move the wounded to the temple!"
Orders produced orders.Before the blood even cooled, the system of a new order moved in.Seong-jin stood inside that system as a single role.Yesterday, he survived by shooting arrows.Today, he survived by being incorporated into numbers in a ledger.
Seong-jin caught white snow once more in his palm.It quickly melted and became black water.That water ran down between his fingers.