309.
The End of Peace — When a Warrior's Awakening Is Called Back to Reality
Spring's peace did not linger long.
The laughter that had spread through Yangzhou's alleys began, at some point, to thin out.
A tension clung to the ends of market conversations, and the southern wind carried a foreboding scent.
That day, Park Seong-jin sat beneath the peach tree.
His breath was calm, yet the grain of the wind had changed.
The sky was slowly turning over.
Toward dusk, a messenger came at full gallop.
White foam flecked the horse's mouth.
"Lord Chen Youliang has sent a request."
As the words fell, the air in the courtyard sank.
Yi In-jung hurried to Park Seong-jin.
"Zhu Yuanzhang is advancing west along the Yangtze.
Chen Youliang is isolated.
He's asking for support."
Yun Dam was there as well.
He closed his eyes for a moment, then spoke slowly.
"The world may rest in stillness for a time,
but the energy of conflict always rises again from human desire."
That night, lanterns filled the council chamber of Yangzhou Fortress.
Yi In-jung, Park Seong-jin, Yun Dam, Song I-sul, and the commanders of each unit gathered.
"We must join hands with Zhang Shicheng," one officer spoke first.
"If Zhu Yuanzhang advances west now, Chen Youliang will be forced to fight alone.
If Zhang Shicheng doesn't engage from this side, he won't hold."
Another followed.
"Zhang Shicheng is not to be trusted.
He moves by profit.
But for now, we need even that hand."
Yun Dam gave a low laugh.
"For water to flow, it must go around stones.
Water that insists on going straight does not remain long."
Park Seong-jin spoke quietly.
"What matters is not the fight itself,
but who establishes order amid this chaos.
We will join hands with Zhang Shicheng—
and decide in advance when to let go."
Yi In-jung rose from his seat.
His voice was firm.
"Good.
Send a small, elite force to Chen Youliang.
We support him, but do not step to the front.
Focus on breaking the enemy's spearhead."
He paused, then added,
"Cut down their commanders decisively and shatter their control.
The war begins again."
Yi In-jung selected the finest troops—martial warriors combined with archers—and sent them aboard ships.
The core was formed by the forces of Anju.
A few days later, countless vessels moved along the Yangtze.
Xu Da dispatched Chang Yuchun to attack Chizhou (池州).
Flags whipped chaotically above the river, and arrows fell like rain upon the waves.
Smoke rose from the hills around Chizhou.
Park Seong-jin closed his eyes for a moment.
His breath remained calm, yet within that calm, the roar of battle seeped in.
The world entered him and was perceived.
And then, suddenly, a dangerous thought arose.
If I can govern what is within me,
could I not also change the world?
If I could move the world by my own will—
The Battle of Chizhou (池州之戰), Prologue — "Fire Upon the River"
Dawn mist covered the Yangtze.
The water lay calm, yet beneath it thousands of shadows were in motion.
Chizhou had already fallen into enemy hands.
They had hurried, but arrived too late.
The land was wide, and Chang Yuchun's forces had seized control of the riverbanks.
Red banners tore through the wind atop the walls.
Park Seong-jin's elite waited on the western bank.
A dozen warships pushed through the white mist.
The breath of the rowers could be heard.
The sound of dripping water struck with unusual clarity.
A forward officer shouted,
"There's nowhere to land! Chizhou is fully sealed!"
Park Seong-jin closed his eyes briefly.
A quiet force rose from his chest.
"Then we fight on the water."
From beyond the mist came the ring of metal.
Enemy ships were approaching—
sixteen flat-bottomed vessels.
Black banners flew at their prows.
"Enemy ships!"
"Prepare bows!"
In an instant, hundreds of bows were raised.
Every man among the Goryeo troops was an archer—
and a superb one.
Composite bows and crossbows were mixed together.
Park Seong-jin raised his hand in signal.
The first volley.
The mist split as arrows poured forth.
Shouts burst from the enemy decks.
"Fire back! Return fire!"
The Goryeo archers steadied their breathing and loosed.
Arrows flew in cadence with the signal.
A second, a third volley followed.
The shafts pierced hulls and struck men down.
The rowers fell first.
Commanders clutched their throats and faces as they collapsed.
Ships listed.
Blood spread thinly across the decks.
Seizing the moment, the martial warriors leapt forward.
"Now!"
Song I-sul shouted as he drew his sword.
His body cut through the mist, springing upward.
His feet tapped the surface of the water three times.
In the next instant, he landed upon an enemy deck.
Park Seong-jin followed.
His footprints did not linger on the water.
One man, then another.
The warriors mounted the ships as if crossing the river itself.
Blades swept the decks like lightning.
Already felled by arrows, the enemy could not stand firm.
The sound of tearing flesh and brief screams followed.
Blood ran off the decks and into the river.
Archers opened the way; warriors finished the ships.
It was the method Park Seong-jin had proposed.
They did not press forward by brute force.
First they severed breath at range,
then boarded to conclude it.
Enemy command was cut before it could be transmitted.
The head collapsed first.
The remaining body lost all direction.
A dozen Goryeo ships subdued sixteen enemy vessels in a single rush.
As the mist thinned, the walls of Chizhou came into view.
Broken ships floated upon the river.
Burning sails sagged down.
The smell of charred wood spread across the water.
Park Seong-jin sheathed his sword.
Blood spattered his face, yet his breathing remained steady.
His gaze fixed on the red banners across the river.
They fluttered faintly.
"This is only the beginning," he said softly.
That day, within the fog of the Yangtze, arrows flew like breath itself.
Battle had changed,
and the world began once more to be soaked in blood.