46.
Snow drifted all day long, erasing the boundary between sky and earth.With no clear division between above and below, the world lay submerged in a white stillness.
Park Seong-jin stood motionless atop the parapet, where a cold wind cut through the stone.The northwestern gale sliced at his cheeks like a blade.Snowflakes melted the moment they touched his skin, only to freeze again an instant later.The sensation in his fingertips slowly faded—not pain, but the feeling that parts of his body were quietly slipping away.
Beyond the walls, everything was silent.So silent that the breathing of living things stood out with cruel clarity.The snort of horses.The faint friction of leather against iron.The wind brushing the edges of lamellar armor.
The enemy army crouched across the plain like a massive mountain.There was no movement.That stillness itself pressed down on the time inside the fortress.Waiting had become an attack.
It would come soon.No one said it aloud, but everyone knew.
Seong-jin ran his fingers along the stock of his crossbow.The cold of the metal seeped into his flesh.By habit, he quietly counted the spaces between each breath.No tremor—only the faint rhythm hidden within silence.
"They won't come today… will they?"Oh Jin-cheol asked softly beside him.
Seong-jin blinked once."Not yet. They'll wait until the snow stops.""They must be cold too.""They are," Seong-jin replied. "But they're more used to it. They were born on the steppe."
The words ended there.Any sound felt as though it might ripple through the air and carry itself across the snow into the enemy camp.
Below the wall, a formation of spearmen shifted positions with care.Each faint clink of spearheads made Seong-jin's shoulders tense by reflex.The sound was too clear.His heart beat in time with it.
Far to the north, a lone bird crossed the sky.A single black dot stamped against the white field.It lingered in his vision, an ill omen that refused to fade.
Then the snowfall stopped.The silence deepened by another layer.The air itself felt paused, as though announcing what was to come.
Hwang Hyun-pil climbed onto the wall."The snow's stopped. Get ready. They'll move soon."
His words flowed like wind.The soldiers nodded without speaking.No shouts. No oaths.They checked their gear.Pulled their strings once more.Closed one eye to check the vertical line of the fletching.Wiped frozen blood from spear blades with snow.
Lights flickered inside the fortress.Someone clasped their hands and murmured toward the sky.A god.A family.Or a prayer without a name.There was little point in speaking of its meaning.
Seong-jin kept his eyes on the sky.The indifferent cold nearly drew tears from him.Clouds slowly parted in the snow-cleared heavens, and a single shaft of light fell through.It illuminated the crossbows along the wall.
Without thinking, Seong-jin raised a hand to shield his eyes and murmured,"They're coming."
Oh Jin-cheol narrowed his eyes."How do you know?""A feeling."
Moments later, a drum sounded in the distance.Thunk.Just once.
Every soldier inside the fortress inhaled at the same time.
Snow began to fall again—slowly, quietly—like ash drifting from the sky's final breath.
In that instant, the entire fortress of Liaoyang held its breath.And the second battle began.
Siege Weapons and Fire
It was just before dawn.The stars in the western sky faded, and the snowfall to the east took on a faint red hue.
Then—Boom.
The sky roared.The air collapsed inward like thunder.A massive shape tore through the air, wrapped in flame.A red arc carved the sky.
"Trebuchets!"The sentry shouted—but before the cry ended, another explosion followed.
Boom—! Boom—!
Dozens of shapes soared upward.Stone. Fire.Clay jars packed with burning oil.
The sky flushed red as the firebombs fell, flames bursting upward where they struck.
Seong-jin dropped behind his shield by instinct.Heat and shock slammed into his face.Crack—!
A boulder struck the wall, exploding in sound.Stone split. Dust scattered like snow.The masonry shuddered, on the verge of collapse.Everything inanimate seemed to vibrate as if alive.
"Fire bombs! Douse them with water!"Hwang Hyun-pil's voice cut through the tremor.
Soldiers ran with buckets.Flames spread faster than the men could move.
Bang!
A jar shattered inside the stone, oil and resin bursting outward.Fire raced across the wall on the wind.A spear unit was thrown aside by the blast.A single spear spun through the air.A burning banner fluttered where it landed.
The soldiers ducked low.Smoke burned their eyes.With every breath, the smell of burning filled their lungs.
Seong-jin rolled down behind the parapet and sprinted toward the crossbow line, cutting through fire and smoke.
"Prepare to fire!"
There was no time to remember names.His hands trembled.His vision was clear.
"Hold the wall! Break the hands that throw those stones!"
The crossbows were drawn as one—the strongest defense Goryeo possessed.Powerful, long-ranged, and precise.The sound of strings tightening rippled down the line.
Chik— chik— chik—
Another stone slammed into the wall.Dust and debris surged like a storm.The parapet tilted—then held.
As the smoke thinned, the commander raised his head."Fire!"
The crossbow strings thundered together.
Whang—!
Bolts streaked upward through fire and smoke, plunging into the enemy's siege line.Figures staggered in the glow.Chains stopped.Frames groaned and fell still.
"Good! Keep firing!"
Firebombs continued to fall.Arrows did not stop.Trails of flame and steel crossed midair.The sky roared like a giant forge.
Then—A deeper, heavier explosion struck near the gate.
The stonework shuddered.A slab fell, crushing three soldiers beneath it.Blood, snow, flame, and dust mixed into one.
"Reinforce the gate supports!"
Seong-jin steadied his breathing and lifted his crossbow again.Soot smeared his face.Iron and blood filled his mouth.
Drums sounded beyond the wall—slow this time.Once.Twice.Three times.
The drums of assault.
He drew the string again.Even amid flame, his hands were steady.
He saw it—A figure near the trebuchets, arms sweeping wide in command.Adjust the angle. Load another stone.
The gestures were exaggerated.The target was clear.
He held his breath and pressed close to the parapet.This was work.Labor.
As he released the string, his chest hollowed.The bolt flew.
It seemed to trail behind itself—an illusion of sight.The shaft wavered, corrected, and struck the man square in the head.
Thuk.
The figure toppled sideways and did not move.The surrounding motion lagged by a single beat.
The battle hardened into a contest between trebuchets and crossbows.They tried to break the walls.We cut the hands that threw the stones.
Steel rang against steel.Dust filled the air.Fire, reload, fire again—The rhythm merged with breath itself.
Another thunderous impact.The angle shifted.Fire concentrated toward the south.
A crack appeared along the wall—Stone splitting open into a jagged drop.
Seong-jin inhaled deeply.Drew the string again.
The wind had changed.The air grew thicker with dust.
The battle was preparing to reveal another face.