197
Head-On Collision, First Victory
Unable to gain the pass, the enemy fell back.
This was the Hwaju Plain. Someone said that if one kept going straight across it, the land would end in the sea.
A cold wind swept over the endless expanse, carrying fine flakes of snow.
It was early spring, yet the northern air still held the bite of winter.
On a low rise, the banners of the Yuan army fluttered.
They always took the high ground first, where the view was clear.
Black horses, gray armor, and red standards were bound together in one mass.
They were the troops of the Twin Fortresses Commandery—the men left behind when Gi Cheol fled.
Their main force was encamped on the southern edge of the plain.
Speartips raised toward the sky blended with the color of the clouds, shining like blades.
From horseback, Park Seong-jin studied the enemy ranks.
His horse breathed hard.
At his fingertips, the scabbard trembled faintly.
Behind him stood the formation of the Signal Guard led by Lee In-jung.
At the center, the Princess of Noguk stood in a red outer cloak.
Resolve outweighed fear on her face.
"Eight hundred," Lee In-jung said quietly.
"We are just over three hundred. A frontal breakthrough favors them."
Park Seong-jin nodded.
"So we don't break through. We shake them."
"Shake them?"
"We meet them head-on but pin the center.
Split the wings.
When one wing collapses, orders slow and judgment scatters."
Lee In-jung glanced at him.
"You fight like that?"
"Yes, Senior Brother."
Park Seong-jin smiled briefly.
"It's written in the books."
The smile did not last.
A trumpet sounded from the hill.
The Yuan army was changing formation.
Cavalry pushed forward.
Long spears followed to support them.
A flock of crows scattered into the sky.
The battle began.
"Front—shield wall!"
At Lee In-jung's shout, armor slammed together.
The shield line rose.
Spearpoints aligned in a single direction.
Park Seong-jin rode to the front.
His sword slid halfway free, flashing in the sun.
He drew a short breath.
Then the roar erupted.
"Enemy cavalry charging!"
The ground shook.
Dozens of horses came on like a gale.
Dust rose, whitening the field of view.
Then metal struck metal with an explosive crash.
They knew each other too well.
There was no need for tricks.
With greater numbers, the enemy chose to collide by sheer force,
believing that if equal losses were traded, victory would still be theirs.
The Goryeo army and the forces of the collaborator clans knew one another too well—
their movement, their weapons, almost identical.
Crash.
Park Seong-jin's blade split the chest of the first horse.
Blood and earth burst together.
His own mount recoiled half a step.
In that instant, the second enemy's spear sliced the air and grazed his side.
He twisted, seized the shaft, and yanked.
The man resisted, but was dragged helplessly forward.
He must have misjudged him for small.
His surprise was clear when he felt the strength.
Park Seong-jin turned his body in a half circle.
When had he slipped free?
The sword swept sideways.
The enemy's head fell.
"Left wing, hold!"
Lee In-jung's voice steadied the line.
The spear wall wavered.
Soldiers braced shields against shields.
Enemy cavalry swung wide, surging like a wave into the left flank.
They broke through, splitting allied shields.
Horses tangled with horses.
In that gap, Park Seong-jin moved like lightning.
From the vanguard to the left wing in a blink.
The arc of his blade cut the air.
Where he passed, enemies fell.
Each swing sent a head flying.
There was no time to strike, block, or evade in sequence.
The moment they met him, they were cut down.
A human life was worth less than an insect.
From above, the Princess of Noguk watched the field, gripping the banner in her hand.
"Where are you now, Park Seong-jin…"
Her whisper scattered on the wind.
Then, within the dust, a blue gleam flashed.
When force poured into the blade, its color changed.
She recognized it at once.
That light was Park Seong-jin.
He was driving straight into the enemy center.
Song I-sul and the other transcendent warriors followed close behind.
Around him, a strange stillness fell, as if time itself had thinned.
Each sweep of his sword severed the enemy's formation.
They had meant to end it with numbers.
But Park Seong-jin and the warriors were there.
Buoyed by their overwhelming martial force, the smaller army pressed down the larger one.
Horses skimmed the ground.
His gaze did not waver, even at the heart of the field.
"Now! Left wing, advance!"
At Lee In-jung's cry, the Signal Guard cavalry surged left.
The enemy's right wing collapsed.
Seizing the opening, Park Seong-jin charged alone toward the hill where the commander stood.
Those who stood along the straight path from battlefield to command post fell without recourse.
The enemy general raised his spear in shock.
But the distance between them had already lost meaning.
It was as if space itself folded inward.
Park Seong-jin's blade flashed and pierced the man's chest.
The general fell from his horse.
Park Seong-jin struck down the officers around him, and they scattered in all directions.
With their commander down, the Yuan formation crumbled in an instant.
Chaos spread across the plain.
Spears and shields fell away.
Horses bolted.
The Signal Guard cavalry pursued, shouting.
They had thought it too easy.
Few in number—but that meant preparation.
Twenty-odd warriors were a force beyond measure.
Even against a thousand, they could plunge in and tear the formation apart.
Chase and flight went on for more than an hour.
Thus the battle ended.
With fewer troops, it took time.
Blood ran across the Hwaju Plain.
Above, crows still circled in wide arcs.
From horseback, Park Seong-jin lowered his sword.
He steadied his breath and looked down at the blood-smeared back of his hand.
It trembled.
His eyes were calm.
The princess approached slowly.
Sunlight settled on her face.
"We have won."
Park Seong-jin bowed his head.
"We have only crossed the beginning."
She looked at him for a moment, then asked quietly,
"When will this war end?"
He did not answer.
It would not end.
Never.
But he did not wish to extinguish her hope.
Looking out over the blood-soaked plain, he quietly sheathed his sword.
The sound of steel sliding home carried long on the wind.
The battle was over.
The enemy's remnants fled toward Hwaju Fortress.