52.
The dust had not yet settled.Breathing inside the ruins, Seongjin retraced the flow of the battle—how it had tilted so abruptly.The first and second assaults had been held.Arrow trajectories were true, firepots burst on time, and the soldiers' resolve had been firm.Yet in the third assault, the city split open in an instant.
They had fought hard.He had drawn and loosed until his fingers bled.
The structure of the wall had been weak.The moment the South Gate exploded rose vividly in his mind—the sky tearing open, stones cascading down, the wind twisting hot.What collapsed then was not just the gate itself.The enemy had not crossed over it; they had seeped through the gaps.They poured along openings torn open by fire, straight into the heart of the defense.That shock overturned the battlefield at once.
Seongjin pressed his brow.Thoughts chained together at speed.Someone misjudged—or someone moved knowing this would happen.
Beside him, Dohyeon spoke low.Blood loss had drained his face pale, but his voice was clear.Bracing himself against the broken wall, he was already organizing what he'd seen.
"A group broke out toward the west gate. Mounted men—quite a few. The general was among them. It was fast."
Seongjin looked up."They fled? Are you sure?""I saw it. There weren't just one or two."
Seongjin clenched his teeth.The question no longer needed an answer.
"We were too far forward to know it right away," Dohyeon said.He gave a short laugh—experience, not resignation."Flags, drums, orders—once distance opens, they don't reach. The close hear them; the far move by their own judgment. We were just at the most exposed edge of the field."
Seongjin took the words into his chest.Could even my death be seen that objectively?The explosives had been meant to cut the charge—and at the same time, to blow away the very center of defense.Who made that call?Or had the design already assumed explosives would be placed there?The doubt remained, unarranged.
"Looking back," Seongjin said low,"the position we held was the first to be hit.Beside the South Gate, the protruding bastion.If it failed, it swallowed everything."
As he finished, sounds layered in from outside—at first like echoes carried by wind, then unmistakable.
"…Straight ahead!""Punch a corridor!""Block their retreat!""Archers, seal the main road!"
Enemy voices.Which meant Goryeo soldiers were still fighting.They couldn't stay hidden here. They had to rise.The words were foreign, but the tone carried frenzy and violence.
Then a short, sharp rhythm cut through.Dum—du dum, dum—du du dum!Goryeo drums.
Seongjin's head snapped up."That sound… do you hear it?"
Dohyeon coughed blood, bowed his head, steadied his breathing, and listened.A brief silence passed.
Then a shout burst from down the alley.
"Defend Liaoyang!""Close in—don't scatter!"
Short. Solid.White smoke split the fire, and through it a banner rose.Red ash swirled around it.
Seongjin said quietly,"A remnant force. The line is still alive."
A spark returned to his eyes.Where exhaustion and despair overlapped, the sense of battle reattached.Dohyeon slowly stood, gripping his sword tight.
"Heh. So it's not over yet."
Seongjin gave a short laugh."Then better to die fighting—take at least one more with us. Senior, at this rate we'll be rolling in real filth."
Instead of answering, Dohyeon loosened his scabbard.After a breath, he spoke again.
"But we have to live. If not now, there won't be a next time. Let's go."
They stepped back into the fire.Beyond the ashes of the shattered South Gate, the roar was rising.That night, Liaoyang—pushing death back—began once more to take the shape of battle.