54
The night was long.Fires burned everywhere, raging through the dark without pause.They did not die out until just before dawn.Only after the flames had consumed everything did the wind change its course.Black ash settled through the alleys of Liaoyang, and a faint light passed over the eyes of the survivors.It was dawn.
Sunlight split through the smoke, illuminating the broken walls and the burned streets.The ground, mixed with blood and ash, glistened like wet glass.
Baekin-gun stood beneath the collapsed battlements.He looked up at the sky.It seemed lower than yesterday—an unnaturally quiet morning.His armor was blackened and dull, and the sword in his left hand was still wet with blood.Burned cloth, blood, and ash clung together on his fingers.Standing still, he was scarcely distinguishable from the wreckage of the battlefield.
"General."
At Seongjin's voice, Baekin-gun nodded.
"It's over. You did well."
It was a confirmation that the fighting had ended.Seongjin sat leaning against a shattered wall, the hand wiping blood trembling faintly.
"Then… we won?"
Dohyeon sat down beside him.
"We greeted another morning. That's all."
The wind blew.Beyond the collapsed South Gate, the distant sky opened.At its center stood a single charred pillar.From its top, a torn scrap of cloth hung and fluttered.
Someone approached in silence and pulled it down.It was Goryeo's banner—scorched by fire, soaked in blood, its red and black no longer distinguishable.
Baekin-gun raised his hand without a word.Soldiers set up broken spear shafts.At their tips, a new banner was raised.Sunlight brushed its folds, and when the wind blew, the cloth slowly unfurled.Within the black ash, the red pattern emerged once more.
Surviving soldiers gathered on the walls one by one.No one shouted.They simply bowed their heads toward the banner.
Cold wind.A pale, open sky.
"Clear the battlefield. Restore the South Gate."
Brief replies followed.
"Loyalty.""Loyalty.""Loyalty.""Loyalty.""Loyalty."
Baekin-gun looked toward the distant sky.Between drifting ash and smoke, sunlight slipped through like a bird.
"We begin again. Liaoyang held. We are standing once more."
No one answered.The losses were too great.
Nahachu's main force had collapsed, and the city remained.Yet beyond it, smoke was still rising.Above that smoke, faintly, the birds of dawn took flight.The first morning's shadow settled over the city that had burned all night.
The survivors looked up at that sky.The banner swayed in the wind.
Nahachu's army fled along the road it had come,northward, and farther north still.A force said to exceed two hundred thousand scattered and ran like a single mass breaking apart.Each удар of hooves sent dirt flying, and that dust was no longer the sign of advance, but the trace of retreat.
The roar that had seemed to cover the world only a day before was gone.All that remained were ragged breaths and eyes glancing backward.
When Baekin-gun swung around and struck their rear, they understood at once.This was no longer a matter of numbers.When they saw Liaoyang wrapped in flame, when they realized that the fire was not burning the city but cutting off their path, they were already running.
They scattered to survive, trampling one another as they did.Those who fell did not rise.Those who stopped were left behind.
Nahachu pulled hard on his reins and looked back.The sky over Liaoyang was still burning.Red light filled the heavens and stained his face.
"That fire…" he muttered.After a pause, he said as if releasing a breath,"Our arrogance is burning there."
Only after running more than a hundred li did the army slow.Liaoyang's sky was still red, the flames flickering in the wind.Beneath that light, soldiers bowed their heads.
Nahachu removed his helmet.The red sky flowed into his eyes.