That was the moment.At the brink—when the wall was about to fall—dozens of black shadows surged up onto the rampart almost at the same time.Stepping on the gaps in the wall and the collapsed parapets, human bodies flew in.A pack of black martial men.
Breath and footsteps were bound into a single movement.Goryeo's 싸울아비—fighting men.
The instant the man in front set his foot on the wall, the sword moved first.He twisted his waist and cut front and back in a single stroke.Two enemy soldiers who had been blocking the way collapsed emptily.Before that cutting motion even finished, the next blade followed.And then three more fell.
Necks flew, armpits split.Before shields could come up, the blade had already driven inside and struck vital points.
A single sword drew itself like a single line.Several enemy soldiers standing on that line collapsed at once.
The 싸울아비 who followed were even faster.Their swords traced silver arcs and split the wall-top.Short strikes—stamp—push—cut off.
Throat.Wrist.Chest and belly.They chose only fatal points.The movements were short, and there was no stopping.
Enemies inside their path fell with nothing to do about it.When an enemy spear rose, the sword was already inside it.When a shield was raised, the body drove into the shield's shadow.
The flow of enemy troops spilling onto the wall split.And the enemy surge that had been pushing in was cut off.
The troops who had crossed over from the siege towers tangled up.From the front, blades burrowed in; from the back, bodies kept pushing.They tangled and fell over each other.
One 싸울아비 twisted his body in midair.Falling off the wall, in the last moment he yanked a spear down with him.
The two fell together.Even while falling, the sword moved.
Blood ran down the wall.Red dots stamped into the snow.
But the 싸울아비's breath flowed along with the sword's trajectory.One cut, one step, and cut again.
If one fell, the next stepped on that place.No gap appeared.
The line on the wall closed again.
Park Seong-jin watched that sight with his mouth hanging open.With a spear in one hand and a crossbow in the other, he could not move.He even forgot to breathe.
He had seen enemies fight with swords.Soldiers, commanders—he had seen them.But this was different.It was a force on another track.
There was no hesitation in the 싸울아비's blade.No fear.No trace of showing off technique.
They cut precisely, and before the enemy even finished falling, they cut the next.One man simply cut down dozens—and there were dozens like that, so the wall that had been taken was quickly made clean.A living human body moved like a single blade.
It did not feel like a small number.It felt like a single flow wearing human shapes and moving.
Seong-jin's hand trembled.Not from fear.
The fact that such fighting existed,the fact that such people existed,and the fact that he had lived not knowing it until now—that held him.
"So that… is a warrior."
The words leaked from his lips.
O Jin-cheol said briefly beside him."An immortal."
Seong-jin sighed."An immortal."
Without turning his head, Seong-jin asked,"How… can a person… fight like that."
O Jin-cheol did not answer.He only looked at the wall.
The 싸울아비 were pushing back the last enemies.Space opened again on the wall, and crossbowmen reclaimed it.The siege towers whose ladders had hooked the wall collapsed, and at last the enemy pulled back.
On the wall, blood flowed down like a river.The 싸울아비 were already turning their bodies toward the next fight.
---*
The shooter who struck the enemy commander
Meanwhile, Goryeo's bows were showing clear power.There were many kinds, but the power of the crossbow (弩弓) Seong-jin handled was overwhelmingly distinct.It broke shields and armor, a language of iron that chased the evading trajectory to the end.It smashed shields and pierced armor.A weapon that could not be stopped.
The crossbowmen on the wall handled the crossbow with their whole bodies.Plant the left foot, raise the right leg.Put weight onto the firing stand and draw the string all the way back.The bow's tension was so strong it could not be drawn with ordinary strength.You had to use your entire body.Sometimes you braced it against stone, sometimes you leaned your whole weight in to aim.
The process to fire a single shot was long, but the result was destructive and simple.It flew an enormous distance, and what it hit simply fell.It could not be blocked, and it could not be dodged.
Then, from the enemy's central formation, a blue flag was raised high.A mounted man beneath it swung his arm in a big motion.The formation moved in response to that gesture.
A commander.
They maneuvered chaotically but shot accurately and withdrew.They repeated shooting, and charging in again, over and over.All of that movement and fire followed the commander's strict control.The commander had to be taken out.
Seong-jin swallowed."There—under the blue flag."
Hwang Hyeon-pil followed Seong-jin's gaze."Get your head straight. Now is the time to set the angle."He scolded Seong-jin, who was holding another crossbow that did not operate together.
Seong-jin answered.
"I'll aim for him. Under the flag—the one handling the horse."
Having confirmed the commander, Hwang Hyeon-pil let out a short laugh."Heh. Yeah. Try it. If you hit him, their necks break first."
While everyone else pulled, aimed, and fired on the firing control, Seong-jin moved a beat late.He aimed for the enemy commander a little behind the mass of mounted archers.
He drew the crossbow string all the way back.He cut his breath. No—he stopped it.He set a straight iron bolt (鐵矢) with a well-balanced center.
Beyond one hundred and fifty jang.The stride of the horse.The speed of the flag's sway.The direction the wind brushed past the back of his neck.
The man yanked the reins and turned his upper body.Now.
Without realizing it, he released the string.Thunk—The vibration of the bowstring struck his chest.The iron bolt twisted its long body and flew through the air like a swallow.
Time stretched.The slowly flowing time felt almost frozen.
At some point, the iron bolt that cut across time buried itself in the enemy commander's left chest.The blue flag shook violently.Screams burst out around him.
Before that sound, O Jin-cheol's shout roared louder."Hit!"
The shout spread across the wall like ripples.Hwang Hyeon-pil ran to an embrasure and looked out beyond the rampart.
The blue flag went down, and they could be seen supporting the wounded and dragging him to the rear.On the white snowfield, bright red blood burst.
"Good."Hwang Hyeon-pil bared his teeth."This time—him."
Where he pointed stood a huge commander with a red scarf.He was riding and shouting.The red cloth fluttered in the wind like a flag of blood.
"It's a little far.""Then use a lighter bolt."
Hwang Hyeon-pil pulled an arrow from his own quiver.It was small and light.Its trajectory was fast.
Seong-jin took it.The iron head held the firelight.
All around them, things were burning.Palisades were being eaten by flame, and burning arrows, black smoke, and human screams tangled together.
In that moment, Seong-jin's insides sank cold.His breath became shallow, and his field of view narrowed.Only the red scarf remained in the center.
Now.
Seong-jin drew the crossbow string to its limit.Every muscle in his body reacted at once.
And he fired.
Thoom—The string burst again.The bolt left his hand, but the sensation remained to the end.It felt like an invisible long cord connected him to the flying bolt.
Tak.
The red scarf lurched hard.The man was knocked off the horse as if bounced away.The force of the bolt shoved his body backward and flung him.
The enemy line suddenly stopped.Hundreds of gazes turned at once toward the wall.Instead of words, their eyes shouted.
Seong-jin quietly closed his eyes.
Then Hwang Hyeon-pil sprang up."Enemy commander! The enemy commander is down!"
The eyes of the soldiers who had been shooting gathered on Seong-jin.Wonder, fear, and a strange respect were mixed together.
Seong-jin could not bear that gaze, and he lowered his head politely—formally.
"Well done!"
Hwang Hyeon-pil slapped his shoulder hard a few times, then grabbed his shield and ran toward the wall-top.Seong-jin watched his back for a moment.He went to report.He would be praised.The expected commendation flowed away inside the battle.
Seong-jin raised his head and looked up at the sky.Even in the flames, the sky was blue.Under that blue sky,the red scarf was finally sinking into the fire.