The next morning, the sky over the steppe was clear, but the wind's edge cut like a blade.In the courtyard of the guesthouse, snow that had melted overnight lingered as muddy slush, and the wind seeped thinly between the tents.
As Park Seong-jin stood in front of the guesthouse door, a familiar figure approached from afar.A man wrapped in long black fur, a faint smile resting at the corners of his eyes.It was Arakhtai, Nahaçu's close attendant.
"Is he here?"
Park Seong-jin answered politely.
"Yes. He has just risen and is practicing sword forms."
Arakhtai's gaze swept past Seong-jin's shoulder.The look paused for a moment, then returned downward.
"What is your post?"
"I am a bowman."
Arakhtai nodded.
"Goryeo archers are renowned. I have heard much."
"You flatter me."
Arakhtai asked no more.Watching his back as he turned away, Park Seong-jin felt an unease he could not explain.To them, I should be no more than dust… and yet why does my heart refuse to settle?
He lifted his head and looked at the sky.Beneath clouds scattered by the wind, the powers of the steppe were measuring one another.Calculations were also running through Arakhtai's mind.
Whoever became hegemon of the continent, Nahaçu would ultimately submit to that victor.The question was when—and to whom he would bow.
Yarutai's push into Liaoyang, and Nahaçu's waiting on the steppe, both sprang from the same struggle:to secure their share beneath the winner's banner.
In the west, the flames of rebellion were rising,yet the northeastern steppe had not yet taken that gale head-on.They were not fighting—they were waiting, in order to survive.
In the back courtyard, Yi In-jung was swinging a sword without even properly donning his outer robe.In those movements lay less the vigor of a warrior than the weight of heavy thought.
Arakhtai drew near and smiled.
"Commander Yi. Did you rest well last night?"
Yi In-jung stopped his blade and turned his head.White breath drifted out slowly.
"I could not sleep. The thought keeps returning that we came for nothing.Perhaps our court is dreaming an impossible dream.Cooperation… it will not be easy."
Arakhtai chuckled lightly.
"The discussion has not even begun, and you have already reached a conclusion?"
"Even setting Ssangseong aside, Liaoyang will not be resolved in any other way."
Arakhtai took a breath, then spoke in a low voice.
"Persuade the Khan. His will is not to conquer the continent.If the peace of the present can be maintained, that is enough for him.The 'balance' Goryeo proposes—is that not the most realistic path?"
Yi In-jung asked quietly.
"And what do you think?"
"Even if one of the three takes supremacy, the result is the same.Someone will end up in that hand, shaken like a tool.So we choose the road that lets us survive a little longer."
Yi In-jung did not nod.
"The road of joining us will not be easy.In the end, the victor in the Central Plains, Goryeo, and Lord Nahaçu's coalitionwill likely fight a war—until each side learns it cannot break the other."
"True. That is why I will help you. Hurry."
Arakhtai smiled.
"Now? It is not even breakfast yet."
Yi In-jung looked briefly surprised.
"Lord Nahaçu shares morning food only with those he deems important.Such chances do not come often."
Arakhtai's smile carried meaning.It sounded as if, once you sat at that breakfast table, you were already halfway across the river.
Yet Yi In-jung felt no special hope.Sharing a table with a guest was an old custom in Goryeo.This was a place where people lived too—how different could it be?It seemed merely a posture that put unnecessary weight on the moment.
No matter how heavy the talk, they would not withdraw.They had taken Liaoyang back with blood.
Yi In-jung gathered his sword and nodded slowly.
"Then… may this meal become the last meal taken for the sake of peace."
===---*
Deep within Nahaçu's hall, morning sunlight seeped in.A faint mist lay over the snow country, and from afar the low echo of a horse's cry spread.
Led by Arakhtai, Yi In-jung entered to find incense already burning inside.The rich scent of milk tea and roasted meat mingled thickly in the air.
Nahaçu sat at a low table, wearing a sable-fur robe.Behind him stood three commanders in silence.
Nahaçu's eyes traced Yi In-jung slowly as he came in.
"You have come. Those who rise early in the morning tend to live long."
Yi In-jung joined his hands and offered a formal bow.
"To be granted such a place is an honor."
Nahaçu let out a small laugh.
"Honor? Do I still bear a name worthy of that?Do you not call me Khan?"
Yi In-jung hesitated for a moment.Arakhtai smoothly filled the gap.
"Commander Yi has traveled far and must be hungry.He likely could not eat properly last night.My lord has prepared a special lamb-milk porridge today."
A steaming bowl was set before Yi In-jung.Nahaçu lifted his spoon first.
"Eat. The steppe's rule is simple.If you share the same food, you share the same fate."
Yi In-jung hesitated, then took a spoonful.The taste was gentle, but his heart remained cold.
Nahaçu continued, unhurried.
"I have heard your proposal of cooperation.And your warning that the remnants in Jiangnan may covet Beijing.But that is a matter of the far south.What matters to me is Liaoyang—and Ssangseong."
Yi In-jung lifted his gaze.
"Those two places are lands Goryeo reclaimed with blood.That blood has not yet dried."
Nahaçu swallowed another spoonful.
"And that is precisely why I do not wish to see that blood."
His words were soft, but they could also be heard as a declaration of war.
"You always seem to need to bleed to protect land.But if that blood soaks into my land, that is calamity for me as well."
A silence settled.
Arakhtai spoke carefully.
"My lord means that a compromise is needed to prevent bloodshed."
Nahaçu narrowed his eyes.
"Yes. I do not desire war.But I do not trust a peace without a pledge."
Yi In-jung set down his spoon.
"A pledge can be written.But trust must be built by people.Is that not why we sit facing each other like this?"
A faint smile spread at the corner of Nahaçu's mouth.
"That is not a bad line. Yi In-jung, was it?In your eyes there is still no defeat."
"I simply do not fear defeat."
"Then let me ask one thing."
Nahaçu lifted his cup.
"Whose land do you believe this steppe to be?"
Yi In-jung drew a breath, then answered.
"It is the land of those who made it live."
The air in the hall froze.The hands of the standing commanders shifted minutely.
But Nahaçu laughed.
"Good. I like that answer. Honest."
He raised his cup and tilted it slowly.
"I will drink to this—to those who guard their land, whether enemy or friend."
Yi In-jung also raised his cup.
"And to those who seek not to spill blood."
The two cups met.A clear sound lingered in the hall for a moment.
Outside, morning sunlight was spreading across the snow.The meal ended, yet the steppe's tension did not ease even slightly.