191.
The Night of Rebellion — The Final Barrier Beyond the Palace Gates
The moment the gate slammed shut, the night exploded.
From within the palace walls, shouts and fire burst forth at once.
Red light licked the ramparts, smoke surged upward, blotting out the sky.
The king and queen had already passed beyond the southern outer gate,
and at its threshold the Signal Guard had formed ranks.
Under the Signal Guard's banners, soldiers locked shoulders and aligned their formation.
Only then, surrounded by the army, did the king and queen loosen their breath.
Once again, they understood how vital it was to have those who could be trusted.
Lee In-jung raised the tip of his spear.
His face was smeared dark with blood, his gaze fixed and unyielding.
"His Majesty's procession has already cleared the walls."
He drew a short breath and continued.
"From here on, we cut them off."
Park Seong-jin stepped half a pace to the side and bowed briefly.
"Please go ahead. I will hold the rear."
The wind rose.
Flames climbed the stone and shook red shadows along the walls.
Then the enemy drums sounded.
Boom— boom—
They had broken through the palace gate and were in pursuit.
Hundreds of lanterns swayed as they advanced in a single wave.
The smell of metal rode the wind.
Lee In-jung shouted,
"Signal Guard!"
Every gaze turned to him.
"Stand two ranks abreast!
In the name of the king, do not yield a single step!"
Shields locked.
Spears rose.
Steel struck steel, scattering sparks.
From behind the formation, Park Seong-jin stepped forward with his sword.
The blade of his hwando was no longer silver but darkened red with blood.
He no longer knew how many he had cut; sensation at his fingertips had dulled.
It felt foreign, as though the hand were not his own.
Yet in the eye that looked far ahead, there was a deep stillness.
The first wave crashed in.
Spearpoints flashed as they charged.
Park Seong-jin spun.
His blade traced a half-circle through the air and split the lead man's chest.
Twisting his body, shifting half a step aside, he took the next man's neck.
Into that opening, Lee In-jung's spearmen drove forward.
"Drive the spears! Push!"
At the command, collision erupted again.
Firelight flared as if bursting.
Blood ran down shields.
Arrows poured in; burning pitch flew.
The Signal Guard held their spacing, their formation intact.
They blocked in front and fired from behind.
Cavalry readied to sweep around the flank.
Was the general intent on crushing the enemy here?
Or was there another destination still ahead?
As more rebels surged forward, Lee In-jung raised his hand in signal.
"Sungui Archers—prepare!"
Behind the ranks, heavy bows were drawn as one.
"Release!"
This was an army tempered by many campaigns.
Thud—thud—thud—
Short, heavy detonations tore through the night.
Arrows flew straight into the advancing front.
The leading ranks of the rebels, charging out of the palace, collapsed all at once.
The front of the space resolved as if drawn into a single line.
In the thickening smoke, Park Seong-jin was already plunging into the heart of the enemy.
His body moved ahead of the blade.
Cut, thrust, turn.
Silver arcs cleaved the darkness in unbroken sequence.
Enemies fell one after another.
Lee In-jung shouted,
"Park Seong-jin! Control your depth!"
But Park Seong-jin had already entered the enemy's center.
He immediately caught the movement of a commanding figure.
They drove toward one another, the distance collapsing in an instant.
The man tried to shout and hurled his spear.
Clang—!
Sparks flew.
Park Seong-jin twisted his body and let the blade slide.
The reinforced shaft split apart.
As the man lifted the broken spear, the sword cut straight into his throat.
It was a brief clash.
The neck severed, blood spouted like a fountain.
"The enemy commander is down!"
Park Seong-jin shouted it himself—
a deliberate cry, meant to shake the opposing ranks.
Victory in battle is decided by morale.
Once an enemy's resolve wavers, the rest is easy.
Numbers and armor mean little to a force seized by fear.
At that instant, the rebel formation faltered.
What cohesion remained unraveled; their lines slackened.
Lee In-jung did not miss the opening.
"Advance!"
The Signal Guard surged forward as one.
Spears thrust ahead, arrows flew from the flanks.
Bodies and blood piled thick before the gate.
When the momentum broke, the rebels' flow split apart.
They scattered, fled, collapsed where they stood.
Lee In-jung said quietly,
"Hold the line."
Pursuing too far risked counterattack.
It was enough to block and sever the flow.
Park Seong-jin stood within the ranks, breathing hard.
Signal Guard soldiers brushed past him as they pressed forward.
From somewhere came a hoarse voice.
"Ah… the country's truly gone mad."
Dawn light seeped over his shoulder.
Beyond the gate, the eastern sky was faintly brightening.
With this final stand, the Signal Guard had preserved the lives of the king and queen.
The wind rose, carrying the stench of blood far away.
Those who remained lifted their eyes to the sky in silence.
Blood, fire, and dawn overlapped there.