133
Breakthrough at Dawn
Neither side yielded an inch as the night wore on.Between black smoke and the stench of blood, dawn seeped in.As the sky faded to a pale gray, some of the fires inside the city died down.A thin morning wind swept across the battlefield.
At that moment, Nangjang Jong Hui moved first—before Yi In-jung could even speak.
His voice was low and short.
"Now. Everyone, follow me."
The signal was simple.One drumbeat—then a sharp piiiik, a tearing whistle.
Even amid countless voices and shouts, that sound pierced straight into Goryeo ears.
As the drumbeat faded, Park Seong-jin and the assault unit held their breath and lowered their bodies.Together, they charged straight toward the center of the gate.
Yi In-jung led the front.
His hand clenched tight on the hilt, his footwork left almost no sound.His movements were spare, and the tip of his blade briefly split the darkness before sunrise.Unlike the night, when he had focused on command, now he poured everything into forward motion—cutting down the enemy ahead with short signals instead of words.
Park Seong-jin followed close behind.
Allied spearmen and long-sword fighters pressed in one after another.Loaded archers behind them planted arrows in dense succession.Strike, shatter, halt—and arrows followed.Shield troops advanced, and through the gaps, elite fighters tore forward again.The pattern repeated.
The first wave split the chaos before the gate.
Spears and shields collided, releasing metal cries like screams.The human tide was pushed aside, and a narrow alley opened.
With a single slash, Yi In-jung cleaved through the shield line blocking the gate and carved an entry path.Park Seong-jin plunged into the opening and cut at knees.He tore a spear from a fallen man and drove it down at once.
Thrust.Push.Pull.Advance again.
A short chain of impacts followed in rapid succession.The tight knot of stalemate snapped in that instant.
As space widened, allied shield troops surged in.Reinforcements joined, and shield-bearers and spearmen tangled together, driving the enemy deeper into the city.Arrows lit by the dawn shattered the rear.
Both armies were pushed—but Zhang Shicheng's forces were the first to give ground.
Goryeo's warriors, opening a blood path at the spearhead, seized control of the battlefield.
Yi In-jung's shout burst out.
"Push. We go deeper."
The soldiers gathered their strength again.
Park Seong-jin ran, dodging spear tips striking the iron floor.His chest burned, his fingers slipped with blood, but his legs did not stop.
The battlefield was slowly transforming into allied space.Each secured section became a base to push forward again.They advanced like waves.
Then the tone of the drums and shouts from inside the city changed.
Near the inner gate, Zhang Shicheng's remaining troops flinched.Some of those following could not hide their unease.
The moment was coming—when whoever faltered first would decide the outcome.
Park Seong-jin leapt forward, anchoring the center of the formation.Yi In-jung pressed on, blade driving momentum forward.
Amid clashing steel, shouts, and the crack of splintering wood,the fracture inside the city spread visibly.
By the time dawnlight bleached the blood on the ground pale,the Goryeo army had seized the initiative.
The breakthrough had taken effect.
Then another drum sounded from the city's core.
Zhang Shicheng moved.
He gathered his main force's emergency units.Reserves long hidden deep within the city poured out in disciplined order.
The black-cloaked guard took the front.Veteran archers and swift cavalry followed behind.
It was an organized counteroffensive meant to overturn the line—a decision into which he poured everything.
Zhang Shicheng's orders were calm—and lethal.
Along the city's deep corridors, countless ambushes unfolded without end.They used narrow alleys to strike the flanks.
Sudden rainstorms of arrows poured down on allied sides.From rooftops, windows, and concealed gaps, archers opened fire in unison.
Low-trajectory arrows skimmed shoulders and napes of the advancing soldiers.Shields and armor absorbed much of it, but not a few fell.
The advancing column began to creak.
The resistance was fierce—they could not simply push through.This was street fighting.
At the same time, the guard charged through a narrow alley beside the gate.Their frames were compact, but their movements precise.
They drove straight into dense formations,pouring sharp metallic sounds through the flames.
Park Seong-jin raised his shield to take the blow.He immediately wheeled to the side and cut down an enemy trying to form a defensive wall.
The counterattack continued in tight coordination.When one side yielded, blades answered from another.
The front line buckled again.The secured foothold shook.
Some squads pulled back hastily, trying to reorganize.
Then Zhang Shicheng's guard crashed directly into Park Seong-jin's front.
The rhythm of their blades was exact.Their shield cohesion was solid.
Park Seong-jin lowered his body and turned the spear tip toward the chest.One strike went in, forcing the opponent to bend.
An ally at his side rushed in immediately.Park Seong-jin rolled aside to evade.
From behind, an allied long sword plunged down, cutting off the enemy's movement.
Zhang Shicheng continued issuing orders while surveying the battlefield broadly.
Archers maintained pressure with continuous fire.The guard tightened the flanks.Cavalry threaded through city passages to harass the rear.
Fast. Cold. Relentless.
It was a decision that committed everything—driving all remaining forces into the fight.
In every narrow alley, battles flared again.Both sides held their ground where they stood.
Dawn was already breaking.
And the war continued, gripping the battlefield without letting go.