265.
The Second Wave
The wind fell silent.
Within the walls, a measured stillness settled as if the city itself were catching its breath.
As the density of battle loosened, soldiers' shoulders slackened.
Park Seongjin shook the blood from his blade and steadied his breathing.
"It's over!"
At the moment the cry spread, Song Isul lifted his head.
His eyes fixed on the city's deeper interior.
"Not yet."
As the words left him, the sound of doors locking echoed in succession from within—
clack, clack—followed by dull impacts that struck the air.
"Help me!"
A scream tore through the dark.
Before light could spread, steel flashed first.
The head of a soldier sleeping against a sentry post leapt into the air.
Blood burst forth, soaking the torch.
In that instant, dozens of footsteps moved at once in the darkness.
"They're inside! Inside the city!"
As the shout spread, Seongjin hurled himself from the rampart.
The moment his feet struck the ground, two shadows charged straight at him.
Steel met steel.
Clang—crash! Bang!
Sparks flew at every collision.
Their movements were short, fast, repetitive.
Their eyes did not waver; their bodies answered commands.
"They were sleeping inside!"
Song Isul's shout flew across.
"They were hidden from the start!"
Before the words finished, flames surged from the southern residential quarter.
A powder store exploded.
The grain of the air flipped.
Seongjin threw himself forward.
Impact slammed into his back, but his gaze already pierced the smoke.
Three figures burst from an alley.
A spear. A chain.
From the rooftops, a blade moved.
Seongjin kicked off the stone.
"Seize them!"
The unit fanned out.
Bodies tangled in narrow stone lanes.
Blood spread across the ground, torchlight wavering above it.
Seongjin seized a roof tile with one hand and hauled himself up.
A blade dropped from above.
His waist twisted; the edge grazed his collar.
His sword turned back in answer.
—shrrk—
A chest split open.
Black smoke burst forth, scattering into the night air.
"They're back—the same strange beings."
He bared his teeth.
Song Isul ran toward the city's center and shouted,
"Cut north and south! Seal the alleys! I'll take the heights!"
The soldiers responded at once.
Spears and shields replaced torches, blocking the lanes.
With the paths sealed, movement was exposed.
Those in hiding were forced out.
Bowstrings sang.
Iron tips cleaved the dark.
With each scream, a shadow fell.
Before the smoke settled, another group appeared at the end of the street.
Their steps were even; their speed unbroken.
One step, then another—feet striking stone at identical intervals.
Seongjin watched them and said low,
"A spell is laid on them. This time, the spell is bound to living men."
He raised his sword.
Rooftop light flowed along the blade.
In that moment, all of Hwajŏ was covered in firelight and shadow.
The second wave was pouring into the city.
The Third Wave — A Night of Poisoned Mists and Hidden Blades
As the fires beyond the gates subsided, Hwajŏ's air had already grown heavy.
The stench of burned tiles clung to the smell of blood.
Seongjin felt the presence directly against his skin.
They came again.
"The wind has stopped."
As he spoke low, Song Isul turned.
His gaze stood sharp, like a blade cutting the air.
"It's sealed."
At that instant, the air twisted subtly.
Invisible currents tangled into fine threads and spread—
slow, yet unmistakable.
White strands of poisoned mist.
Seongjin stopped breathing.
His throat tightened.
"All units! Hold your breath!"
The cry flashed like lightning.
Soldiers hurriedly covered mouths and noses with their sleeves.
Some had already collapsed, blood running from eyes and nostrils as they fell.
Taking that opening, hidden blades flew.
No whistle, no warning—
whish—whish—whish—
Seongjin dropped low.
His sword spun in a circle.
Metal needles struck and sparked away.
One hand held the blade; the other pressed to the ground.
A faint resonance traveled up from below.
"Under us."
As the words fell, forms surged from fissures beneath—
rising like black smoke, moving along the grain of the earth.
"The third wave!"
Song Isul's shout burst out.
There was no fixed measure in this fight.
Vision drowned in mist; only breathing remained in the ears.
Seongjin drew a deep breath.
The sense of the mind opened.
The grain of the air split apart.
The points where differing currents collided rose clearly within him.
"There."
His sword cut through transparent, unseen space.
A scream erupted in the dark.
The blade had not touched flesh, yet the split current pierced the core.
A sword of qi slid along the flow and entered.
The unit responded at once.
They moved without seeing one another, guided by feel alone.
"Three left! Two behind! One above!"
With each command, spears and blades flew together.
Shadows buckled one by one.
As their presence was exposed, the demonic flow they had woven collapsed swiftly.
Time passed; the mist thinned.
Yet the residue still clung within the city—
in the shadows of pillars, the seams of ceilings, the edges of darkness—
watching for a chance.
Song Isul shouted curtly,
"Fire."
Lamps bound to each pillar were lit.
Flames spread, crawling along the ceiling.
At once, semi-transparent black forms twisted.
What burned in the light was not flesh, but force.
Long, unbearable screams followed.
Seongjin raised his sword.
Firelight ran along the blade.
"Purify."
The currents inverted.
Flame flowed onto the sword, becoming a single line of fire.
The silver blade glowed crimson.
Seongjin stepped forward.
Boom—
The ground split.
The hidden forms buried beneath collapsed together.
Flames spiraled, swallowing the poisoned mist that filled the city.
What remained was the stench of scorched air and blood,
and the ragged breaths of fallen soldiers.
Seongjin knelt and steadied his breathing.
"It's finished."
The uncanny—
vengeful spirits, numinous poison-mists, covert assaults—
could not be understood.
No—could not be confirmed.
They were where the flow of existence gathered, then halted.
All along, Seongjin had cut the center of that flow.
His fingertips trembled slightly.
His gaze shifted slowly, deep into the city.