630
After Karatsu's Surrender —
The Shell of Peace, and the Shadow of the "Bakufu"
After Karatsu declared surrender, the castle appeared to regain calm.
New banners rose over the keep.
In the town below, lanterns were lit again.
Merchant ships resumed their comings and goings.
But that calm was only a shell.
When night fell, covert movement spread like poisonous mushrooms—
inside the castle, behind the halls, in underground storehouses, empty armories,
and in the forest behind an old shrine.
Black traces moved.
The sound of people in motion.
Behind a small corridor on the northern side of Karatsu Castle,
in a place where not a single line of light reached,
around thirty samurai gathered quietly.
They were men who had not yet bowed to the new lord, Motonari.
One samurai murmured low.
"This is not surrender."
"It's occupation."
Another clenched his teeth.
"To offer Nabeshima land to someone who is not Nabeshima."
"Our ancestors will rise from their graves."
An old veteran samurai, stroking a worn blade, spoke after a long, pressed breath.
"You saw Lord Mototake's eyes."
"He broke his heart."
"It's over now."
"Even if we raise our swords here, the flow will not change."
A younger warrior lifted his chin.
"So that's why you enthroned Motonari and bowed to a Goryeo warrior?"
The old man shook his head slowly.
"We are samurai."
"The moment we kneel, we are already dead."
"And you all knelt."
The young warrior ground his teeth.
"We bowed in body only."
"Our hearts did not bend."
They were skilled at interpreting words however they pleased.
When the exchange ended, the room sank into heavy silence.
Shame settled.
The desperation to fight boiled up.
The helplessness of knowing it would change nothing smothered it all.
Three emotions fused together and clung to the floor.
That gathering did not stand on defiance alone.
Cracks formed even among them.
"We can't fight anymore."
"That general isn't human."
Another snapped.
"Don't put those words in your mouth."
A third replied, even lower.
"Yesterday, fifty charged him."
"None returned alive."
Another voice sank further.
"It was instant."
"Our comrades were cut down."
The young warrior spat fiercely.
"If he's a demon, then we cut the demon."
But no one could lend strength to those words.
Even the speaker's face lacked conviction.
Then someone spoke—very carefully.
"…Still, isn't Motonari a son worth following?"
The air split like lightning.
"He betrayed his parent."
"He is no son of Nabeshima."
"A dog clinging to Goryeo's shadow."
Fists collided.
Hands gripped sword hilts.
The opposing sides began measuring each other first.
Then an old samurai spoke again.
"Enough."
"There is news."
All eyes turned to him.
"The Bakufu is sending someone."
The words spread like oil.
"The Bakufu?"
"Do they mean to intervene?"
"Then can we stand again?"
The old samurai nodded.
"Hizen is a frontier of the Bakufu."
"Other clans won't let this opening pass."
"They won't merely watch us fall."
Eyes changed.
From the gaze of defeat, sparks of opportunity rose.
A conviction formed.
In the end, this could become the Bakufu's choice.
That conviction sharpened them again.
While the opposition gathered,
in another chamber inside the castle,
Mototake's remaining confidants sat beneath bleak candlelight.
One whispered.
"They've begun to move."
Mototake lifted his head.
"…As expected."
The aide continued.
"The path of confronting the general directly is closed."
"So they likely judged that removing Motonari would collapse the new order."
Mototake's heart sank heavily.
His voice cracked.
"Our positions are divided."
"But he is still my son."
"If I fail to protect him, I die again."
His hand trembled.
A retainer returned from scouting, breathless.
"My lord."
"We've identified the core of the opposition."
Mototake asked.
"Who?"
The retainer answered softly.
"…The remaining faction of Katō Tadamitsu."
Mototake's eyes quivered.
"He was called a loyal retainer."
Another aide replied even lower.
"Now we must see where that loyalty truly points."
Mototake swallowed his answer.
That man had once reached out his hand to kill Park Seong-jin.
The roots he left behind still sharpened blades, speaking of honor.
As the night's meeting drew to a close,
the old samurai delivered his final words.
"The continental general cut down fifty with a single sword."
"So we will not stop at fifty."
The gathered men inhaled.
The old man's gaze hardened.
"We gather several hundred warriors."
"We overturn Karatsu in one stroke."
Someone muttered.
"Several hundred is Karatsu's full strength."
The old man stated firmly.
"It's possible."
"When the Bakufu arrives, it becomes real war."
As the words ended, the wind brushed the paper like a passing hand.
Park Seong-jin stood on the rear platform of the castle, gazing at the sea.
He drew in the clear air and spoke quietly.
"…They'll come bigger this time."
Song Yijeong asked.
"How many do you think?"
Park Seong-jin's eyes pierced beyond the horizon.
"Fifty was a joke."
"This time, it'll be hundreds."
A Shift in View —
Beyond Rebellion, Seeing the 'Kyushu Structure'
Five days had passed since the conquest of Karatsu.
In the administrative hall behind the Ninomaru,
reports arrived from Iki Island and Tsushima.
Iki reported almost daily.
Tsushima every five days.
Across hundreds of ri of sea, numbers of a new order arrived.
Tax restructuring.
Harbor reconstruction.
Deployment of artillery and long spears.
Monitoring merchant traffic.
Naval and land force organization.
Dispatch of local officials and land surveys.
As Park Seong-jin flipped through the reports, he tapped the desk.
"Expanding territory is not the objective."
Song Yijeong asked.
"Then what is?"
Park Seong-jin's voice was calm.
Inside it, a blade was set.
"These two islands are Goryeo's front line."
"When you build a house, you raise a fence."
"When you raise a fence, you clear the space before it."
He unfolded the sea chart linking Tsushima and Iki.
"This place is now our courtyard."
"When you catch a thief in the yard, you clean the house."
"Only then does the house stand straight."
Song Yijeong swallowed.
"…So next is Hakata?"
Park Seong-jin smiled faintly.
It was not joy.
It was the smile of someone who saw structure.
From the highest platform of Karatsu Castle, Park Seong-jin looked east.
Even in darkness, the sea lay calm.
Kyushu's mainland stretched like ink-black ridgelines.
If Hizen was the western gate against the pirates,
Hakata was the eastern heart.
Grip the heart, and the limbs are cut.
He spoke low.
"…Hizen is the far western edge."
Song Yijeong asked carefully.
"Then next?"
Park Seong-jin pointed toward Hakata.
"Starting with Hakata, we bring down all nine regions of Kyushu."
Song Yijeong's eyes widened.
"All of Kyushu?"
Park Seong-jin nodded.
"I do not intend to call war."
"Nor to stain the land with fear."
Song Yijeong asked.
"Then for what purpose?"
Park Seong-jin gazed beyond the sea.
"To buy peace."
"War is the price paid for peace."
One warrior swallowed.
"The General wasn't looking at Tsushima or Karatsu."
"He was looking over all of Kyushu."
At dawn the next day, Park Seong-jin issued quiet orders.
"Form two reconnaissance units each for Iki and Tsushima."
"Disguise them as fishing boats and investigate ships entering and leaving Hakata."
The soldiers responded.
"Yes!"
He continued.
"Map Hakata merchants' routes."
"Track weapon distribution lines."
"Identify communication channels with the Bakufu."
"Learn everything."
"Yes!"
Song Yijeong spoke last.
"General."
"If we strike as far as Hakata, the war grows large."
"This is also a time to consolidate what we hold."
Park Seong-jin drew a deep breath and nodded.
"True."
"The court likely thought only as far as Tsushima."
"Not occupation, but punishment."
"A single lesson."
He paused.
Then admitted calmly.
"But after coming here, I see that solves nothing."
Song Yijeong answered at once.
"Then is expanding military governance the path?"
Park Seong-jin exhaled shortly instead of replying.
"For now, we remain in Hizen."
"No expeditionary ships will sail."
Song Yijeong nodded.
"Understood."
Park Seong-jin murmured, almost to himself.
"When thought connects—"
"I see it through to the end."