89
The Bait
"Piiiiii—"
The old crossbowman drew the string.Bracing with his foot, he gathered his whole body into both hands and hauled it back.The catch locked. The bolt was set.
Park Seong-jin's hand trembled as he drew.The gap of several days had changed the feeling in his fingertips more than he expected.
A heavy crossbow is stubborn and brutal.Its strength reveals itself in distance.
The enemies atop the gate tower showed no special preparation.To them, it was merely another bow.
When the aim was set, Huang Hyun-pil gave the signal.
"Pip! Fire!"
With the firing tone, more than a hundred crossbows spat their bolts at once.Spread wide across the line, yet released nearly in the same instant,the bolts flew toward the gate tower.
Ratatatat—the sound was closer to a crash than a shot.
Bolts smashed through shields and armor plates, punching, splitting, tearing.The command figures on the tower screamed and fell.
Unconcerned with what was happening above, the firing signal continued.It rang out again, long and sharp.
"Piiii—"
The signal to cock again.Feet braced, strength wrung from the body, strings hauled back.
"Aim properly!"
A shout cut through after a few scattered shots.A white cold seeped into the line of aim.
"Pip!"
With the signal, dozens more heavy bolts ripped through the air.Soldiers on the tower hastily raised shields, dragging shattered iron plates into place.
The second wave crashed over the gate tower.Though distant, the range was well within a heavy crossbow's reach.
Impact and destruction rang almost simultaneously.The enemy soldiers holding the front were swept away.
Those stationed on the tower were mostly commanders.The south gate's tower collapsed.
"Prepare fire arrows!"
After two strikes, the tower became chaos in moments.Firelight, smoke, splintering wood, and staggering screams tangled together.
The belief that arrow fire could be enduredwas a choice made without weighing mass.The power of the heavy crossbow was on another level.
The tower shook violently.The fact that much of the command had fallen only deepened the confusion.
When command falters, the army's pulse falters with it.
Time slid immediately into the next phase.Urgent orders burst from the walls.
"Go out! Strike the crossbow unit!"
The gate opened, and hundreds of soldiers poured out at once.The sight was imposing, but the choice behind it was desperation.
From outside, the roughly two hundred crossbowmen likely looked like easy prey.
Orders on the wall turned instantly into movement.The Goryeo crossbow unit stood fully exposed before it could complete its reset.
The battlefield began to flow against calculation.
As the soldiers who exited the gate charged forward,units hidden beyond the walls revealed themselves, closing in like a net.
Heavy infantry—fully armored.A massive force in thick mail.
They filled the space before the gate as if rising from the ground itself.
Only then did one fact become unmistakably clear.There were no horses.
Where cavalry should have been, there was only absence.Had there been horses, withdrawal under cover might have been possible.
This deployment allowed no retreat.
The troops who exited the gate were trapped inside the encirclement.
In that instant, strength drained from the body.Oh Jin-cheol's shout was heard, but it came as if through surf, distant and broken.
The ground tangled with blood.Screams cut across the snowfield.
The archers were crushed by the advancing heavy infantry, their formation lost.Spears and blades slammed together with crushing weight.
It was a trap.One axis of a larger scheme—including a flanking attack—and we were it.
Only then did Huang Hyun-pil shout, his face ashen.
"Raise shields! Raise them—block!"
The order struck the air and echoed back.Too many had already fallen.There was no time left to re-form the line.
Park Seong-jin dropped the heavy crossbow and took up his bow.Clenching his teeth, he fired to stop even one enemy before him.
His arrows felled men staggering between the armored ranks.Oh Jin-cheol thrust again and again with his long spear, holding the advance back.Sun-gun blocked with his shield and swung his hand axe in rough arcs.
This was not a refined battle—it was a fight of bodies enduring.Wild, empty swings cut the air more often than clean strikes.
The cost was enormous.The field beyond the south gate flooded with blood.
The realization surfaced fully—we were the bait.
It became possible to measure how much longer we could endure.This tactic consumed us regardless of victory or defeat.
The fate of bait lay plainly before our eyes.