557.
The enemy commander staggered and fell onto the sand.
Crash.
His head buried itself in the ground.
His back twisted at an unnatural angle.
Breath leaked out in thin, broken gasps.
A suppressed groan slipped from within the formation.
"Our lord…?"
One soldier in the front rank struggled to his feet.
His armor rattled violently.
The commander's back was torn.
His hands were twisted uselessly.
His face guard was gone.
The back of his neck was swollen red, as if struck with a club.
A commander was meant to be something beyond ordinary men.
Hardened by battle.
Unafraid of death.
Yet that commander had been dragged here by a single man.
The front-rank soldier dropped his weapon.
Tap.
The small sound spread across the entire shoreline.
Someone whimpered behind him.
"It's not a lie…"
"Our lord… by that country brute…"
"It makes no sense…"
Hands gripping swords began to tremble as if rotting away.
Spear shafts touched the ground, metal ringing as the sound scattered on the wind.
From the rear, someone screamed.
"We can't win!"
"That isn't a man!"
Fear spread.
What began at one point flooded the entire coast.
Park Seong-jin seized the commander by the back of the neck again, as casually as lifting a broken branch, and raised him high for all to see.
"Look."
The single word tore through the night air.
Even soldiers deep inside the formation lifted their heads.
The lord's body—hoisted like a scarecrow—swayed helplessly.
When the lord was captured, the battle was over.
That was the clear grain of Wa territorial warfare.
Park spoke,
"Look at who you're dying for."
"The lord you protected is here like this."
His voice was calm.
There was no mockery.
That calmness was more terrifying.
The front-rank soldier let his spear slip from his hand.
Thud.
Then three, four, five more.
Next came shields.
Then helmets.
Soldiers in the rear watched and dropped to their knees one by one.
A man near the center of the formation wailed,
"We're defeated."
He threw his sword to the ground.
When one gave up, two followed.
When two followed, ten wavered.
When ten wavered, a hundred collapsed.
The formation unraveled.
Soldiers fumbled half-removing armor, stumbling into one another.
The rout began.
"Run!"
"Not toward the caltrops!"
"Drop your spears!"
"Throw away the armor!"
"Live first!"
The entire shoreline shook with screams and pounding feet.
Some fled on all fours, abandoning their weapons.
Some fell as their feet sank into the sand.
Some stepped on caltrops and crawled forward screaming.
Some stared up at the sky, faces soaked with tears.
The fight was over.
There was no one left to fight.
The Wa formation collapsed completely where it stood.
---*
There were many prisoners.
More than half had fallen in the first clash.
Excluding those who escaped during the collapse, around two hundred remained.
Some raised their hands.
Some threw down spears and knelt in the sand.
Some, tangled in caltrops while struggling to live, slumped where they fell.
They were marched in lines.
Song I-jeong came over and asked,
"How should we handle them?"
Park Seong-jin answered shortly,
"Prisoners of war become slaves."
The answer was textbook—proof that he was a soldier.
The question existed because there were countless reasons that rule could not be followed.
Yet he recited the rule again.
There was no anger in his voice.
Only the recitation of an established code.
Song I-sul bowed his head.
"Understood."
Park continued,
"Send them to the nearest counties."
"Escort them to Gaegyeong."
"Deliver them by count."
"If the numbers don't match, tell them they'll answer with their lives."
The tone was calm.
The content was cold.
Song I-sul replied again,
"Understood."
Park said,
"Keeping them is a burden."
"Send them off quickly and clear the field."
"Yes!"
Park added,
"Call the supply officer."
Moments later, the supply officer rushed in.
"Understood!"
Park asked,
"Our arrows took a hit, didn't they?"
The officer answered,
"I've already put in a request to the local prefecture."
Park nodded.
"Good."
"Recover as many as you can while cleaning up."
"Reduce losses and move immediately."
"Understood!"
The officer ran out.
Park sat quietly inside the tent.
There were no major wounds.
Fatigue did not crash down all at once.
Instead, something heavy settled over his chest.
It was the exhaustion of the mind being drained.
Park knew this fatigue.
On days when he cut down many men, evenings were always like this.
It wasn't the arms that tired first,
but somewhere deeper inside the head.
He wanted to reduce killing.
He muttered as if to himself,
"They always rush in."
"They never leave me a choice."
Outside the tent, the sea wind wailed.
Between the gusts came the low moans of the wounded.
Park closed his eyes.
A civil official entered and spoke.
Park told him to draft the initial report.
"Understood."
After battle, there was always more to do.
Park wanted to avoid the work of a commander.
The body issued orders.
Collected results.
Moved like a machine.
Even so, it was never enough.
There were too few people.
He had been in the army long enough to perform military duties with his eyes closed—
but even that required manpower.
An intelligence officer arrived.
"Understood."
Park said,
"Interrogate the wounded."
"Check if there are other Wa forces nearby."
"Fleets you saw on the way in, raiding parties in other areas—anything."
"Understood."
Park continued,
"Raise an early alert."
"Call the senior officers."
"Understood."
Park said,
"There was an open area about five hundred jang away."
"We establish camp there."
"Understood."
Park said,
"Send scouts north and south."
"Don't just ride out—confirm whether there are other Wa bands."
"Understood."
Order after order.
Night was approaching.
Once the camp was set, headquarters shifted.
His body felt as heavy as a thousand weights.
Still, he had to move.
The smell of cooking rice drifted through the air.
Goryeo soldiers had to eat.
No matter how exhausted,
a bowl of rice and hot soup brought them back to life.
Like water boiling, small noises continued without end.
Park made a full circuit of the camp.
Even in an overwhelming victory, there were wounded.
He checked the injured.
Arranged evacuation.
Inspected the outer defensive line.
Checked for the risk of enemy intrusion.
Looked for any danger of encirclement.
Confirmed withdrawal routes.
He checked everything from the enemy's point of view.
The checking never ended.
What was lacking caught his eye first.
He did the work of junior officers as well.
Because he had to.