138
Aftermath — The Breaking Point
Yi In-jung turned back to Park Seong-jin, his gaze sharp, almost scolding.
Under that look, Park Seong-jin bowed his head.
"I'm sorry.When he said the word righteous man, my hand stopped.I had heard that many common people praise him."
Yi In-jung clicked his tongue softly.
"...Tsk. That happens."
He slowly surveyed the great hall.Among the shattered furnishings, he picked out one object—a banner crafted like the national standard of the Great Zhou.
Yi In-jung lifted it, hung it from a spear shaft, and walked outside the hall.Then he drove the spear into the ground with force, as if splitting the earth.
"Surrender.This is as far as you go.Lay down your arms now."
Had Zhang Shicheng's head been hanging there,the effect would have spread across the entire battlefield instantly.
Underground Pursuit
The underground passage was drowned in thick darkness.
The moment the warriors dropped beneath the ruins of the great hall and their feet hit the ground, they ran forward without pausing to catch their breath.
The passage was barely wide enough for a single person.The walls were slick with moisture, and pooled water on the floor shimmered faintly in the dim light.
Someone raised a small lantern, but the glow barely reached an arm's length, swallowed by dust and mist.
"I smell something. Oil," Park Seong-jin said, frowning.
"If we use fire, we die," Song Yi-sul replied quietly. "Careful."
The warriors behind them answered not with words, but by tightening their grips on their sword hilts.
Footsteps splashed heavily in the mud.Water dripped at a steady rhythm.
The warrior in front raised his hand.
"Stop."
Something metallic glimmered faintly beneath the mud at their feet.
Park Seong-jin crouched to examine it.Thin iron wires were woven between the walls, and at their ends hung narrow tubes, sharp as awls.
"Powder canisters."
At that instant, sparks burst from both sides of the passage.
"Down!" Park Seong-jin shouted.
The explosion tore through the air.Flames swallowed the tunnel, and earth, stone, and fire blasted outward.
Before the dust could settle, Song Yi-sul pushed himself up.
"Alive?"
"Three on this side are okay," came the reply.
Park Seong-jin's voice was choked with coughing, his forehead smeared with dirt and blood.
Song Yi-sul pressed a hand to the wall.A faint vibration traveled into his palm.
"The path splits. I'm taking the left."
"Then I'll take the right," Park Seong-jin nodded.
The right passage was deeper—and narrower.
Zhang Shicheng's soldiers were lying in ambush throughout, waiting in silence.
As Park Seong-jin rounded a corner, a mace flew at him.He arched his back to evade it.
There wasn't space to swing his sword properly, so he fought with the hilt, the spine of the blade, and his elbows.
When one enemy fell, another immediately filled the gap.
"They're holding here for a reason," Park Seong-jin said, stepping over a fallen foe."Zhang Shicheng knows this path."
As he spoke, metal shards and stones rained from the ceiling, followed by another burst of flame.
"The rear passage is blocked!"
"Then forward!" Park Seong-jin shouted.
Meanwhile, in the left passage, Song Yi-sul moved without a light, tracing the wall's breath with his fingers.
He struck a narrow seam.The stone cracked, and air flowed out from within.
"Air's moving. The exit is below."
He lowered his body and slipped through the opening.
The two paths rejoined.
As the warriors regrouped almost simultaneously, a vast circular cavern opened before them.
The ceiling was high.At the center stood an old wooden platform, and through a hole above it, the dawn breeze slipped in.
Starlight fell quietly.
Below stretched the endless surface of Gouwu Lake.
"We missed him," Park Seong-jin said softly.
Song Yi-sul steadied his breath and shook his head.
"He's gone already."
"You're sure?"
"There's no human presence. Only old currents remain."
No one spoke for a while.
The underground passage ended beneath a hillside leading to the lake.Beyond the night fog, the lights of Gouwu Fortress glimmered faintly.
For those who had been locked between life and death moments ago, the silence weighed heavily.
"We need to return to the fight," Park Seong-jin said at once."The city is still burning."
Song Yi-sul snorted.
"You're worried about your senior brother, aren't you."
He turned around.
"Let's go back.The battlefield is where we belong."
With his grumbling leading the way, Park Seong-jin and the forty warriors melted back into the darkness.
From afar, drums thundered.The fires of Gouwu Fortress were still alive.
Zhang Shicheng's Escape
News of Zhang Shicheng's escape spread.
Before blades could clash again, it was the soldiers' eyes that wavered first.
Someone glanced back.Another slowed his attack.
That tiny hesitation rippled across the entire city.
"Zhang Shicheng has fled.""The enemy commander escaped."
The words spread faster than fire.
At first, faces showed disbelief.Then movements began to change.
Spearpoints that had been aimed forward trembled.Shields that had blocked the way with resolve slipped from position.
Eyes that had faced the enemy turned backward.Glances meant to confirm allies crossed in confusion.
Zhang Shicheng's name had been the pillar of this city.
The single fact that he lived had driven soldiers forward.
The news that he was gone was like a wall collapsing from within.
"It's a lie.""He's still fighting.""No—an escape route was opened."
The rumors did not converge into one story.
But they all pointed in the same direction—backward.
Zhang Shicheng's guard reacted first.
They did not stop fighting, but the angle of their advance changed.They no longer pressed toward the city gate, but turned inward.
With what they had been protecting gone, their movements began to question what they were still standing for.
The ordinary soldiers faltered faster.
Some stood gripping their spears, frozen.Others tore off their helmets with bloodstained hands and surrendered.
Faces waiting for orders mixed with eyes calculating escape.
"Where is the commander?""Who gives the orders now?"
There was no answer.
Where Zhang Shicheng's voice had been, only the noise of battle remained.
Then a roar rose from the Goryeo side.
It was not simple celebration.It carried certainty—understanding.
"He ran!""Zhang Shicheng has fled!"
He was nowhere to be seen.
The air inside the city visibly sank.
The flames still burned, but in the soldiers' eyes, the force that had driven them forward was gone.
Park Seong-jin stood watching, sword stained with blood.
The fighting continued, but the direction was already set.
This was the moment when will—not men—collapsed.
From that point on, the battle changed.
Small fractures opened everywhere within the city.Retreat and surrender, resistance and flight tangled together.
The walls still stood—but inside, the city had already fallen.