98
After several rounds of drinking, Hwang Hyeon-pil's face flushed red.He suddenly set his bowl down and spoke.
"Do you know why we returned with only a small number?"
Oh Jin-cheol nodded as he passed his cup."Because there was concern trouble might break out on the way back, I assume."
Hwang Hyeon-pil gave a short laugh."That's right. The very fact that a general holding the buweol returns with a large army is itself a threat.They feared the possibility that he might overturn the board with that power."
A brief sigh escaped Park Seong-jin's lips.The logic of an unseen world pressed against his skin.A cold sensation seeped into his chest, and heat rose to his face.The world was layered with reasons he had not yet learned to grasp.
The boy's gaze wavered for a moment.
"What if the buweol is surrendered?"
Hwang Hyeon-pil replied evenly."Then they would feel at ease.The army disappears, and the sword moves farther from the hand."
"So they sent him out holding the buweol to defend the country,but feared the very act of his return to Gaegyeong."
"That's right.More dangerous than barbarians is a general who changes his mind."
Hwang Hyeon-pil lifted his cup and drained it in one breath.Oh Jin-cheol added quietly,
"On the battlefield, they wish for victory—but not for the victor's return."
A chill ran down Park Seong-jin's spine.
What a terrifying world this was.Lose, and you die for losing.Win, and you are restrained—or killed—because they fear a victorious general might rebel.That rule would surely reach them as well.
"Then… will the Grand General be all right?He seemed subdued all day."
Hwang Hyeon-pil spoke in a low voice."With achievements like this, His Majesty should have come out as far as Seogyeong to host a welcoming banquet."
"So that's how it should have been.Seogyeong felt strange—there was applause, but the eyes were dry."
"If another war breaks out, the command baton may pass to a different hand."
Park Seong-jin lowered his head."I… like the Grand General."
It was an honest admission.He hated that they had been used as bait in the plan,but hadn't victory been achieved all the same?There had been no trace of selfish intent in his decisions.He only hoped that in the next life, he himself would not be the bait.
A brief silence followed.Hwang Hyeon-pil shook his head.
"We won with that force.That fact alone is hard to believe.To be honest, I thought I'd seen the end on that battlefield."
He refilled his cup and continued."Giving horses even to archers meant we were right at the cliff's edge."
Another silence passed.He lifted his cup again.
"But we made it back.Come—have a drink."
The cups clinked.The short, dull sound spread beneath the low ceiling.
As the smell of liquor reached his nose, a faint smile touched Park Seong-jin's lips.The single fact of being alive warmed his body.
"I should head out first," Park Seong-jin said, rising from his seat."The army has returned—if I don't show up, my mother will be looking for me.She might think I died in battle, like my father and older brother.That's what happened with my brother back then. At the time—"
His words stopped there.
His gaze lingered briefly on the words father and brother.No one asked.
They all knew the two men he had fought beside.They had shared the same battlefield.Everyone could imagine the heart of a mother who had lost her husband and son.
Hwang Hyeon-pil stood and lightly patted his back."Go. Isn't your home the farthest?"
Oh Jin-cheol stepped forward and hugged him tightly."Thank you."
"You say the strangest things."
Then Hwang Hyeon-pil pulled a small silver bottle from his robe."Take this."
"What is it?"
"A silver flask.They said to give one to each man who returned."
Park Seong-jin exclaimed in surprise."You're only giving this now?"
"I kept it aside."
The flask was no bigger than his palm, yet heavy.Heavy enough to sustain a man for a year.
He slipped it into the inner pocket of his chest.The cold of the metal was distinct.It felt as though the body heat of those who had returned alive still lingered within it.
Outside, the spring night air was sharp.The alcohol haze faded quickly, and the lights of Gaegyeong receded one by one.
Park Seong-jin suddenly lifted his head and looked up at the sky.
Now he would return—after the war, back into the place where life continued.
He knew it.Nowhere did the version of himself from before the war remain.
He would never again return to that unguarded, unknowing time.
Outside, the alleys of Jeojeon had grown sparse.The stone pavement, once wet with rain, was drying, and a few remaining lanterns lit the way.
"Go carefully.""See you tomorrow.""Tomorrow… we'll have to see."
The farewells scattered like that.Neither promises to meet again nor clear goodbyes.
People walked off in different directions.Yet no one was entirely alone.In pairs, in threes, or silently leaning on another's shoulder,they disappeared down the alley's end.
Park Seong-jin found himself alone for the first time in a while.
There was almost no trace of alcohol left,and his body felt strangely light—as if the weight he had carried throughout the war had been set down, if only briefly.
He stopped and looked toward the far edge of Jeojeon.Places emptied of people, places where lights had gone out,and the night of Gaegyeong still breathing.
"It's over."
The words surfaced first from his chest, not his head.
Then, very softly, another thought overlapped.
"It begins now."
He did not bother to separate the two.For now, it was enough that he stood here alive.
Park Seong-jin stepped forward slowly—away from the tavern, beyond the lights,on the road back to the barracks.
He did not look back.Tonight, there was no reason to.
Once he passed through the door, the noise of the alley thinned by a layer.The laughter from inside the tavern remained behind the door,and the night of Gaegyeong breathed at its own pace.
After a few steps, Park Seong-jin stopped.
The silver flask in his inner pocket caught his stride.
Its weight was neither heavy nor light.It matched exactly the weight of who he was now.
"I came back alive."
The words settled not as celebration or resolve, but as fact.
The road home was familiar,yet the steps upon it were new.
The war had ended.Orders had vanished.Cheers had faded.
But one thing remained:the act of asking himself what he had become,and what he would choose.
Park Seong-jin did not turn around.Tonight, there was no reason to.
The road home lay straight ahead.The path up the mountain still waited.
From here on, life was beginning not with orders—but with choice.