277.The battlefield suddenly fell silent.
The battlefield, which had thundered like a storm, suddenly fell silent.
It was as if the air itself had stopped.
Within the space where sand-dust and the stench of blood clung together, only the occasional groan of the fallen could be heard.
Park Seongjin moved his feet heavily.
With each step, blood-soaked earth clung thickly beneath his boots.
Birds settled on the carcass of a fallen horse, then startled at the shadow of a man and took flight.
"Move the wounded first.
Write down the names of the dead and gather them."
At the low command, the soldiers moved at once.
Lee Nosan approached and reported.
"Seventy dead.
Over a hundred severely wounded.
The enemy is retreating, and some units appear to be regrouping to the north."
Park Seongjin nodded.
"To say we won also means we lost much."
He removed his blood-smeared glove and looked down at the back of his hand.
Between hardened calluses, blood seeped out, mixing with black dust and hardening like rust.
In the distance, a fallen soldier stretched out his hand.
Park Seongjin walked over and quietly took it.
"Did we win, General…?"
The soldier's lips barely moved.
Park Seongjin nodded.
The soldier's hand trembled faintly, then slackened and fell limp.
Park Seongjin closed his eyes for a moment.
The wind passed.
Smoke from burned carts rose into the sky.
They say we won.
But what, exactly, was defeated?
His thoughts drifted slowly.
There had been a time when he believed in the wisdom of avoiding battle.
Now he carried the duty of enduring it.
Even the victor is drenched in blood.
At the victor's feet lie bodies fallen on the same ground.
Osun-gun came running from afar.
"General, Commander Lee In-jung has summoned you.
He orders you to return to the main camp."
Park Seongjin nodded.
He called the junior officers and captains, ordering the battlefield secured.
The wounded were treated first.
The soldiers were fed breakfast.
Arrows and weapons were collected.
Advance scouts were sent far out to watch enemy movements.
His gaze swept across the field.
The place where formations had once stood in order was now covered with scattered human shadows.
"Gather all who remain.
Enemy or ally, the ground is the same ground."
His voice dispersed low, like the wind.
He mounted his horse and rode one last circuit of the battlefield.
Sunlight filtered through grass blades soaked in blood.
Red and gold mingled, spreading like an evening glow.
When battle ends, rest does not come—meetings do.
When meetings end, more meetings follow.
Inside the main command tent, the air was hot.
The smell of blood lingered on armor, mixed with dust, stifling the breath.
A subtle light flickered across the faces of the commanders.
"General, you fought well."
"The vanguard did not collapse. That alone is a great achievement."
"The Yangzhou plain held for a day. That is your merit."
One by one, the commanders bowed.
Park Seongjin bent deeply in return.
"It was not the commanders' merit.
The soldiers endured."
A short laugh rippled through the tent.
The commanders struck the floor and cheered—
then the cheer sank back into silence.
Lee In-jung raised his cup.
"Still, today we endured.
Without that endurance, we would not be sitting here now."
His voice was firm, though the hand holding the cup trembled slightly.
"Jungnangjang Park Seongjin.
Today, you showed the soldiers what battle and command are."
Park Seongjin bowed his head.
"I merely followed orders."
Lee In-jung smiled.
"You bought us time.
Because of that time, we can place our next move."
He spread a map on one side of the tent.
North of Yangzhou, red lines were drawn; to the south, blue markers.
"Zhang Shicheng's main force has not fully withdrawn.
A rear element remains.
The troops that moved north are likely part of the supply line."
His finger traced the lines on the map.
"For now, we hold this defensive line.
Park Seongjin, guard the northern corridor here.
Strengthen patrols.
Report any intelligence immediately to the main camp."
Park Seongjin asked,
"If the enemy moves again, do we confront them?"
Lee In-jung closed his eyes briefly before answering.
"Not yet.
Zhang Shicheng values bargaining more than battle.
If we endure, he will change his price.
We chastised him today—next, he will seek a meeting."
Park Seongjin asked again,
"We attacked while saying we wished to avoid battle.
Do we move as they do?"
A low laugh spread among the assembled officers—
the laughter of hardened Goryeo soldiers.
Lee In-jung slowly turned his gaze over them.
"Do not grow intoxicated by victory.
Today's win may become tomorrow's misfortune.
The enemy chose retreat, not rout."
The tent grew solemn.
Wind brushed the canvas, making the oil lamp flicker.
Park Seongjin silently folded his hands.
Lee In-jung looked at him and said,
"Let the soldiers rest.
At dawn tomorrow, rise again.
Maintain the forward line and report the enemy's condition constantly.
They will attack again at some point."
"I will obey."
When Park Seongjin withdrew, the tent fell quiet for a moment.
The lamp flickered once.
Outside, the dawn wind carried the dust and blood-smell of the battlefield through the tent.
Park Seongjin requested resupply, asking for ample arrows.
The supply officer moved at once.
Before he even rose again, dozens of small carts were already heading forward.
When he requested geomcha* to block enemy incursions, orders came to improvise them on site, along with carpenters and materials.
* Geomcha: a defensive wagon fitted with shields at the front and multiple blades mounted above, used to stop enemy cavalry charges.
Park Seongjin stepped out of the tent.
Night was nearly over.
The dark clouds parted, revealing faint starlight.
The smell of the battlefield lingered in the wind—
blood, ash, horse dung, wet earth.
He walked slowly between the ranks.
Scattered traces of campfires remained.
Soldiers lay sleeping everywhere, wrapped in uniforms.
Some used shields as pillows.
Others slept clutching their swords.
Even in sleep, lips trembled and fingers twitched—
their bodies still gripping the rhythm of battle.
"Everyone's alive."
The words came out as a long breath rather than speech.
He knelt and pulled a cloak back over a soldier who was covering dying embers.
The hem of the cloak was stained with blood.
Nearby, Lee Nosan was watching over the wounded.
As he tried to stand, Park Seongjin raised a hand.
"It's fine. Stay."
Lee Nosan bowed his head.
"Many are injured.
But they all say they can still fight."
Park Seongjin nodded.
"Fasten their armor more tightly.
Add one more layer if needed."
"Loyalty."
Gratitude and apology were mixed in that reply.
A rooster crowed in the distance.
The sound felt far from peace, lonely instead.
Park Seongjin paused and looked up at the sky.
From the east, a red glow was blooming—
the first morning light rising over the Yangzhou plain.
That light touched soldiers' foreheads and sword tips, making them gleam.
Today is the day after battle.
Today, too, is another fight.
He slowly touched the hilt of his sword.
The cold metal rested in his palm.
Within it clung everything from the day before—
blood, earth, and human warmth.
Behind him, Captain Jonghui approached.
"General, we have begun reorganizing the units as ordered.
Arrows are being collected, armor repaired."
Park Seongjin nodded.
"Good.
Today, we stop fighting.
Feed the horses and let them rest.
We still have a long road ahead."
He did not mount his horse, instead walking through the camp, checking on the soldiers.
On his circuit, he stopped before a low mound of earth where those who had fallen yesterday were buried.
A single stone lay on top.
Someone had scratched words into it by hand.
We endured, to the end.
Who had written it?
Park Seongjin bowed his head before the stone.
A life-risked span of time reduced to a dry fact.
He said nothing for a long while.
Then he slowly turned away.
The dawn wind brushed his collar.
Within that wind, instead of the smell of battle, lingered the quiet breath of human beings.
"It is not the victor who survives,
but the one who endures."
The sun was rising in the distance.
Its light slowly covered the camp.
Park Seongjin walked into that light.
Armor stained with blood soaked in the sunlight,
gradually turning gold.