118
Reorganization of the Army — A War Paid in Silver
The army was reorganized once more.This time, the core of the formation was entirely cavalry.
The reason was distance.An extreme distance.
The role of infantry in direct combat was reduced, while the number of horses increased.Bow units were reinforced, and martial practitioners who had descended from the mountains were incorporated in large numbers.The special assault unit, once no more than twenty men, now exceeded a hundred.
More than a hundred small legends gathered in one place.
Each carried a different lineage, a different breathing discipline, a different name.Yet the expression left on their faces converged into one.
This road would be harsh.And they would face many.
Because of that, shields were reinforced.
The core of this war was not breakthrough, but endurance.
Even cavalry would dismount to fight when facing marshes and waterways.The shields were not designed to be light.The center was thick, the rim wide.Iron plates were added, leather straps resewn.
These were not shields meant to deflect,but shields meant to take the blow and remain standing.
As the cavalry shields were reinforced, weight accumulated.
Inside the barracks, the orders repeated the same lines:
Shield reinforcement.Cavalry-centered formation.Supplies issued in silver; procurement to be done locally.
The moment Park Seong-jin read those words, his chest tightened.
War was being arranged in the language of money.
Rations, horse fodder, reins and horseshoes, spear reinforcements, winter clothing.What the state issued were commands.What actually moved the army were silver coins.
"Even arrows will be bought locally," Yi In-jung said.
The tent stirred briefly.
"You mean we purchase them?""Yes."
His voice remained calm.
"There are places with reasonable prices and proven craftsmen. Jiangnan is rich in goods. Local procurement is more efficient than transport."
The orders were rational.
Because the distance was so great.
The battle at Liaoyang had relied on seizing supplies through conquest.The Jiangnan campaign would rely on silver to purchase supplies.
That logic placed war atop a merchant's ledger.
The price of a bundle of arrows connected directly to the price of rice in a village.That rice price led straight to the bowls of common people.
War seeped into everyday life that way.
In the small square beside the barracks, the sound of shield repair continued day and night.Carpenters and leatherworkers moved without rest.
Here, calculation came before stillness, speed of hands before density of breath.The space was noisy, movement paths tangled, decisions made by numbers.
At the center of it all stood one command:
Endure. Heavily.
The training grounds never rested, from dawn until night.Horses stamped their hooves, tied to ropes.New recruits practiced formations with spears.Martial fighters from the mountains crossed spears and blades again and again.
Mounted charges followed by dismounted combat.Shield-forward defensive concentration.Small units opening gaps.
Outwardly, the shape of battle was clear.
But in more seasoned bodies, rougher sensations rose.Between what the body remembered and what the army demanded, a gap always remained.
Above all of it, the army declared:
A righteous war.
Yet the equipment lists and merchant ledgers told a different order.
War always crossed between necessity and profit.
Still, preparation continued.
By day, Park Seong-jin carried shields.By night, he drew his sword and aligned his breathing.
He tried not to lose the sensation of a swordless sword learned in the mountains.
Oil and leather lingered on his hands.His eyes read both account books and soldiers' faces.
That night, Yi In-jung said:
"We depart at dawn."
*
The force numbered three thousand.And merchants followed.
Outside the camp, between tethered horses and tents, supply wagons stretched in long lines.Sacks of grain, saddles, leather coverings, oil-treated wooden crates glinted heavily in the sunlight.
It was an army depot, and a marketplace at the same time.
At its center stood Lord Wang Pil-sun.
Neither dressed in silk nor in a soldier's uniform, he moved through the camp, opening and closing ledgers.Calling people, sending them off.
"This way—horse feed first!""Remove the damp sacks, they'll mold.""Arrows come in by the water route, correct?"
His voice was not loud, yet people moved naturally.
Authority wielded not by the sword, but by trust.A rare kind of power on the battlefield.
Park Seong-jin spotted him, dismounted, and approached.
"My lord… Lord Wang."
Wang Pil-sun looked up, recognized him, and broke into a broad smile.
"Oh! Seong-jin! So you're here."
The smile was genuine.
"I heard you stopped by the caravan. They said you went into the mountains."
"Yes. To pay my respects—and to study for a while."
"Study?"
Wang narrowed his eyes, scanning him from head to toe.His armor was simpler, his body leaner, but his gaze had changed.
"Yes… your face has changed. You've grown up."
He laughed softly.
It might not have been a compliment.It sounded like the loss of a child's innocence.
"A merchant can tell by the face," Wang continued."This is the face of someone who's died many times and come back."
Park Seong-jin did not answer.There was no reason to deny it.
"Are you going to the front?" he asked.
Wang nodded.
"I'm handling logistics. They told me to buy everything and let the army only use it."
He tapped the ledger.
"This is more frightening than a blade. Without it, you can't fight. With too much, it rots."
Park Seong-jin understood why a merchant so close to regulated pricing had been entrusted with this task.Not just anyone could manage such a role.
"I hope you return safely."
Wang stopped and looked at him directly.
"You say strange things very easily."
He smiled, but his eyes did not.
"Telling someone headed for war to return safely—do you think it's that dangerous?"
"There have been many dangers so far."
Wang waved his hand.
"No. Thank you. Truly."
A brief silence followed.Horses snorted. Wagon wheels creaked.
"So we're going all the way together this time."
The words carried both humor and resolve.
"Yes."
"Good."
Wang nodded.
"No excuses to run away this time."
He added with a grin:
"You were too young before. Sending you to war would've been bad business for a merchant."
"And now?"
"And now…"
He paused, then said:
"Now you have a face that can be sent."
It wasn't praise.It was a cold acknowledgment that he could endure being thrown into war.
Wang lightly patted Seong-jin's shoulder and returned to his ledger without another word.
After he turned away, Park Seong-jin stood there for a moment.
War was not fought only by those who wielded blades.
And he was mounting his horse again, carrying all of those burdens together.
Beyond the tents, drums sounded.The breaths of horses aligned in one direction.
No one resolved the contradiction.
They only moved forward.
That night, beneath the silver moon, the sounds of arrow-binding, horse breathing, and dust-filled laughter lingered in the barracks.
Absurd as it was, hands and feet were already preparing for the next march.