132
Street Fighting Inside the City — A Battle in the Mud
Time had passed since the gate was breached, yet the direction of victory was still undecided.
There were simply too many enemies inside the city.They were packed densely into cramped spaces.
Both armies that had poured past the walls became entangled as if sunk into sticky mud, their movements slowed.The line between attack and defense blurred, and the fight turned into one where whoever held space could steal a brief breath.
The alleys inside the city were painfully narrow.When flames swallowed one or two houses, the rest collapsed in a chain.Soldiers used the debris as shields—propping fallen doors to hide behind, crawling beneath collapsed roofs to keep fighting.
Some fired arrows from rooftops.Others hurled burning timbers.Hands that had lost their blades grabbed stones and threw them.
Here, survival moved the body before weapons did.
Park Seong-jin picked up a fallen enemy's spear.He lowered his stance and aimed into the darkness at the end of the alley.
An arrow skimmed past.Flaming fletching sliced the air above his head and struck the ground.
He pressed himself to the wall, steadied his breathing, and scanned his surroundings.
In the adjacent alley, Yi In-jung's men were preparing to charge.But each attempt was blocked.
In the narrow passage choked with collapsed wall stones, soldiers collided with one another before they could even raise their swords.It was a distance where hands met before blades, shoulders before hands.
Inside the city, flames burned everywhere.The smoke was so thick that visibility shrank to barely three steps.
Soldiers breathed in before they saw faces,and in that brief gap, spears and swords crossed.
Each time the firelight wavered, shadows swelled and shrank.Human shapes and flames overlapped, crashing into one another.
"This side's ours!""Enemy!"
Shouts tangled together.Languages crossed.Signals fell out of rhythm.
One misheard word called down an arrow.One wrong judgment multiplied the weight of blood.
Park Seong-jin shoved aside a burning pillar with his spear tip.As it fell, an enemy hidden behind it was revealed.
He lunged and struck the waist.The resistance in his hands felt heavy—like mud.
"Behind you—spear!"
At the shout, he twisted his body.As he knocked the spear aside with his blade, an ally burst in through the firelight.
From the right alley, a sword flashed and cut the enemy down.
The word front line had already lost its meaning.Before a commander's order could reach them, the situation changed shape again.
Yi In-jung entered the heart of the battlefield himself.His clothes were soaked with blood and ash, his voice torn raw.
"We take this alley.If we give ground here, the flames will take it first.Advance."
Before the words finished, Yuan cavalry attempted to push in from the opposite side.When the passage blocked their horses, they dismounted and joined the fight with spears.
The moment cavalry entered at infantry pace, the battle broke free of formation.
Man against man became the entirety of war.
Park Seong-jin felt the weight building in his arms.His fingertips trembled.The hilt slipped in his grasp.
Blood and sweat blurred the feeling in his palms.
He leaned briefly against a wall, steadied his breath, and listened to the drums.
He could no longer tell whose drums they were.Signals for advance, reinforcement, and regrouping overlapped in confusion.
Smoke surged skyward.Beyond the burning walls, moonlight seeped in faintly.
Half the city lay in ruin.The other half still stood at the center of the fight.
Then Yi In-jung stepped beside him.
His eyes were sunk in exhaustion, but their edge was firm.
"They're still holding.This fight devours people.It won't end until we take the enemy commander."
Yi In-jung swung his blade and let out a low laugh.
The two moved again.The tips of their swords flashed in the firelight.
Through the flames, they slipped into yet another alley.