572.Tell me where they are heading.
Solo Sortie toward Jeongju (靜州 · Yeonggwang)
He could not afford to sit and wait.
Park Seong-jin quietly awaited the return of the scouts.
Several hours later, the scouting detachment appeared in a line, bodies coated in dust.
"Reporting! The enemy ships—some went east, some went west!"
Park Seong-jin lifted his gaze.
"Don't tell me where they went."
"Tell me where they are heading."
The scout commander parted his lips, then hesitated, as if afraid the weight of his words would exceed his responsibility.
At that moment, an old boatman stepped forward.
His back was bent, his body steeped in the scent of long years of sea wind.
His eyes carried the depth of someone who had watched the logic of the sea for a lifetime.
"Where would they go, General?"
"They are not returning."
"They're drifting at sea, searching for the next prey."
"Like a hawk hanging in the sky, choosing what to strike."
At those words, the muscles in Park Seong-jin's jaw locked tight.
They had evaded—but it was not over.
The old man continued.
"After sweeping up everything from the autumn harvest, they'll never go back."
…Autumn.
Only then did Park Seong-jin grasp the season of now.
Until then, he had been absorbed in himself—
what the realm of Hwagyeong truly was, how to refine that state.
Those thoughts had swallowed time.
To him, Hwagyeong meant naturalness:
holding fast to the principles of things, allowing the flow to remain unbroken,
finding quiet joy in what daily life newly revealed.
But that joy had quietly become a wall, blocking the outside world.
The time when grain dried in every courtyard.
The season when tax-grain ships could not easily sail.
The enemy had struck precisely into that gap.
Park Seong-jin murmured low.
"…The autumn harvest."
He turned to the boatman.
"Elder."
At the call, the old man straightened at once.
"Yes, General."
Park Seong-jin asked,
"With those fast boats… can you catch up to Wa ships?"
The old man snorted lightly.
"No matter how fast they think they are."
"We can catch them."
Then he hesitated, and asked in return,
"…And once you catch them—what do you intend to do?"
"They know now that there are friendly forces on the coast."
Park Seong-jin answered plainly.
"We destroy them."
The old man's eyes went round.
The scout commander hurriedly added,
"The ones that went west and north are headed toward Jeongju (Yeonggwang).
Those that went east are likely bound for Paeju (Boseong)."
Park Seong-jin did not hesitate.
"We go to Jeongju."
The old man staggered, startled.
"What—General, you?"
"Yes."
"What… exactly are you planning to do?"
Once again, Park Seong-jin answered briefly.
"Break the ships."
Silence fell.
Only the sea wind swept through with a hollow whoosh.
Song Yi-sul shook his head hard.
"General, that's impossible alone."
Park Seong-jin gave a faint smile—
not from bravado, but from resolve.
"I'm not going alone."
"Cheonggi Unit will coordinate from land."
He spread the map and, together with the old man, traced wind paths and currents—
the ebb and flow of night tides as well.
Each movement of his fingertip seemed to give shape to invisible routes across the sea.
Song Yi-sul swallowed.
"General… must it go this far?"
Park Seong-jin cut him off gently.
"It must."
Then the final words fell low.
"If we let them go this time, the people will die again next time."
His gaze had already reached the night sea.
Song Yijeong followed to the end.
Park Seong-jin did not stop him.
In Song Yijeong's eyes was the resolve to stand fast, even at a lower height than his commander.
The old boatman took aboard two more sailors—five in total.
Under a night neither bright nor dark, the sea exhaled an inky blackness.
For a brief moment on the boat, Park Seong-jin lost his balance—
a man who had fought only on land, shaken once by the variable called the sea.
He pressed strength into his toes and caught himself.
The motion mirrored the shape of his mind.
"This is the fastest boat," he said. "You're certain?"
The old man laughed softly.
"Jeongju? Seungju, Paeju, Damju—none of those compare."
"It's the fastest along the entire coast."
Park Seong-jin's eyes curved slightly.
"Oh."
The old man tossed off,
"Just be glad you don't get seasick, sir."
As the boat slipped out of the shallows, the water split apart.
Behind them, dark waves tore and folded inward.
Once they reached deeper water, the old man raised the sail.
From the moment it rose halfway, the boat caught the wind and pulled.
Like a blade riding the air, the vessel slid forward—shhk—.
Each time the boat tilted, Park Seong-jin's chest swayed with it.
While the sailors stabilized their footing, he bent his knees slightly and lowered his center.
His breathing shortened and lengthened with the waves.
The old man glanced back and muttered,
"Just in case, we've got a small boat trailing behind."
A slender skiff followed, tied by rope.
Park Seong-jin asked,
"What for?"
"If you jump onto an enemy ship," the old man replied,
"we wait behind."
"…And you?"
"If we wait while being seen, we die first."
Park Seong-jin swallowed the words I'm in more danger.
Measuring danger was useless now.
He only nodded.
"I understand."
The boat slid faster, deeper into the night.
The sea lifted and dropped the hull without pause—
a formless motion impossible to feel on land.
Park Seong-jin opened and closed his fingers once, gripping the rail.
Cold seeped into his fingertips.
The wind was cold as well.
A different kind of breath escaped him—short, firm.
Then Song Yijeong spoke quietly at his side.
"If you fall into cold water, you won't survive."
The old boatman answered at once.
"Yes."
"This water does not spare people."
"Fall in, and you won't last even half a shijin."
Park Seong-jin briefly turned to check the skiff behind them.
The rope was drawn tight.
One sailor rechecked the knots, smoothing them with his palm.
Another drew his knife and tucked it inside his clothes to keep it dry.
Song Yijeong tightened his shoulder strap, inhaled, then exhaled slowly.
Their breaths aligned.
The boat tilted sharply once more—
then caught the wind and stood straight.
Staring out at the sea, Park Seong-jin spoke a single word.
"Go!"