123
A Sword Watched from the Dark**
That night's sparring continued in the same place as always.
The firelight was low.The wind was calm.It was a time untouched by hoofbeats or commands.
Below a small rise, one man stood apart.
It was Yun Gyeong-bok.
He did not approach.From the darkness, he watched the two figures within the boundary of firelight.
Two blades met.
The sound was not loud.Before steel, breath reached the ear.
Yun Gyeong-bok's brow tightened.
This is not a contest.
He had lived long on battlefields.He knew the texture of intent that rose when a man lifted a sword.
Yet there was no killing intent in those blades.
Instead of tension or fury, there was an exacting order—a structure born of mutual study.
Watching Park Seong-jin, Yun found his own breathing unconsciously steadying.
The feet did not rush.The sword did not jump.
The whole body followed a half-beat late—but precisely.
"…That is—"
Yun stopped himself.
No name came to mind.
Yi In-jung was not pouring out instruction.He was not correcting, not directing.
He simply stood in the same place, at the same pace, matching blade for blade.
Only then did Yun understand.
That commander is raising a person.
Not using troops.Not commanding subordinates.
He was placing a single human being on the road—and waiting.
Giving time for the sword to find its own grain.
The blades paused.
Both men drew breath together.
In that brief stillness, a strange sensation brushed Yun's chest.
If that boy is drawn deeper into this war—
The thought did not finish.
Yun shook his head to himself.
Too honest.
A sword like that does not survive long.
The battlefield does not keep such blades.
Exact swords are tested first.Deep study collides at the very front.
And yet, words slipped from Yun's mouth.
"What a waste."
He himself could not fully grasp what he meant.
A skill meant for more than rotting here.To fight for the country—how can it be spent on mercenary work?When the state fights as a mercenary, even soldiers become mercenaries.
The sparring ended.
Yi In-jung lowered his sword first.Seong-jin followed a beat later.
The firelight sank lower.
Yun did not watch further.
As he turned away, he held the image of the boy in the light.
That child learned the sword too late.No—too early.
Either way, this war would not leave such a blade untouched.
Yun Gyeong-bok vanished into the dark.
The fire continued to burn.The two men never knew he had been there.
Arrival Before Gaoyu
Gaoyu stood in the middle of open plains—a flatland fortress.
It lay along the canal network of central Jiangsu, east of the vast Gaoyu Lake.Placed on the water routes linking north and south, it served as a vital hub of transport and distribution.
A moat encircled the city.Along the embankments, old willows stood in green ranks.
The walls were layered—packed earth reinforced with stone—built, reinforced, and expanded across generations.
Canals connected directly to the city.Along them moved grain and salt.
It was a node linking granaries and salt routes—a place where Jiangnan's goods gathered, then flowed onward.
Yuan forces had surrounded the city in multiple rings.The city itself was layered in defense.
Siege engines stood at every position.Siege towers crept forward.Catapults hurled massive stones.
Smoke from fire attacks spread thickly, pressing down on sightlines.
Inside the walls, many citizens still supported Zhang Shicheng.Because of that, Gaoyu did not fall easily.
The siege dragged on.
When the Goryeo army reached Gaoyu, smoke already covered the sky.
The haze lay low, crushing the plains.The clash of steel and human shouts surged without pause.
Once they crossed a rise, the battlefield revealed itself.
The city stood firm in the center of the plains.
Gray walls were gouged and scarred.Yuan forces layered around them in encirclement.
Fire smoke rose from multiple points along the siege lines.
Stones and arrows flew.Each impact on the walls tore out short screams.
The ground had hardened into a mixture of blood and ash.
Inside the city, the flag still stood.
On scorched, torn cloth, the red characters "Great Zhou" remained clear.
The battle was still alive.
"The encirclement is complete," Yun Gyeong-bok said quietly.
Beside him, Kim Yun-cheol exhaled slowly.
"Troops are dense inside and out. This fight cannot help but be long."
The commanders dismounted, brushing dust from themselves as they looked on.
A collapsed siege tower caught the eye.A broken battering ram lay abandoned.
Exhausted soldiers filled the base of the walls.Each time a stone shattered against the masonry, bodies tangled and fell.
Then movement rippled through the northern camp.
From the dust emerged a unit of cavalry.
At its head rode a man in white lamellar armor, a blue cloak draped over his shoulders.Even on horseback, his posture was absolute.
In smoke and chaos, he drew the eye at once.
The Meeting of Goryeo and the Yuan Chancellor
The cavalry split from the dust.
Their movement carried a strange calm, unlike the surrounding tumult.The pace was steady.The formation did not waver.
It was as if a path had already been prepared.
At the front rode the commander in white armor.The plates were polished dull with age, the blue cloak vivid against the smoke.
Balance held firm even atop the saddle.
A body seasoned by long years of war.
It was Toqto—the Yuan chancellor, second only to the emperor, holder of true power.
When he reined in his horse, the noise of the Yuan camp dropped a layer.
Without command, order settled.
His presence alone formed the center of the battlefield.
Toqto did not look at the Goryeo army at first.
He gazed up at Gaoyu's battlements.
Through the smoke, the standing flag was still visible.
He stared at it for a long time.
Then he spoke.
"The Goryeo army has arrived."
Yi In-jung dismounted and stepped forward.
He did not brush the dust from his armor.He bowed his head, but his back remained straight.
"I am Yi In-jung, general of the Great Goryeo. We have arrived upon request."
Toqto's gaze shifted.
It swept up and down Yi In-jung—not measuring skill, but utility.
Silence passed.
The cloak stirred once in the wind.
"Zhang Shicheng still holds. The siege has dragged on."
Yi In-jung surveyed the city.
He saw the fallen towers.The broken rams.The exhaustion saturating the field.
"There is emptiness and substance," he said."That is why time has stretched."
The corner of Toqto's mouth moved—something close to acknowledgment.
"Can you break it?"
"We can. That is why we are here."
Yi In-jung lifted his head.
"We will assist."
Toqto looked down at him.
Not as one nation's general to another—but as a tool suitable for the battlefield.
After a moment, he nodded.
"Good."
"With new eyes, weak points show clearly. We have fought here too long."
His gaze returned to the walls.
Somewhere in the smoke, someone was watching him—he seemed already aware of it.
"We will open the way."
Yi In-jung did not change expression.
The nature of the battle was already clear.
This was a war where blood wrote conclusions atop imperial calculations.
The two men said no more.