779.
The moment the song began, time seemed to freeze. The sound flowed but did not truly flow, and the melody continued without ever ending. Park Seongjin, without realizing it, stopped walking and stood still in the meadow. He fell into a world of meaning. It was a world where not words, but meaning, and not meaning, but sensation, seeped through. Emotions that were not allowed when holding a sword began to rise. These were emotions he had once considered a luxury on the battlefield.
"What is the reason I live in this world?"
If peace was the answer, then what should he hold onto now that he had achieved that peace and returned? Though the song spoke of farewell, in his heart, the idea of return was collapsing.
A young soldier who had returned after a long war. Standing in the place of peace with the name of victory, yet he stood in a place where he did not belong. At the end of this sadness, he sensed that if he took one more step, he would never be able to return. It wasn't about laying down his sword, but about severing his last connection to this world. That is why he was sad.
It was a sadness that did not burst into tears, nor pour out as a scream. Rather, it was a deepening sadness the quieter it became. On the battlefield, death had been certain—either live or fall. But the sorrow of standing here now was neither of those. It was a sorrow where being alive itself became heavy. The fact that he had to remain here became an unbearable weight.
When the song ended, he stood motionless for a long time. What he had heard wasn't just one song—it felt like the entirety of his remaining life. That night, in the meadow, Park Seongjin stood not as the victorious warrior but as a young returning soldier, who had sought rest only to become afraid of that very rest.
The woman who had sung took a step back and gave a perfect bow. She lowered her body deeply, and there was no disruption in her hands. This was not the courtesy of a banquet, but the kind of bow that gives away one's heart and then leaves. Park Seongjin was still in the afterglow of the song. It felt too quiet in his chest to immediately speak. After a brief smile, she bowed again, silently, and left the scene.
The beautiful woman left without a sound, without leaving a trace. Alone, Park Seongjin looked toward the end of the meadow. The road ahead still seemed long, and the sky deep. Suddenly, a thought crossed his mind. Wasn't it time to leave? He hadn't asked, but the question felt like it had already been answered for him. He returned to find the king.
"Your Majesty, I wish to go and stay in my teacher's tomb."
The king halted his steps.
"Now?" he asked again.
"Please change that to 'for the time being,'" Park Seongjin said.
"Of course," he replied, bowing his head.
"I fear if I say that I'm leaving now, it may seem final," the king admitted honestly.
"We are only in the process of sealing things. For peace, we must still hold the Banquet of the Eight Sects, and there is much work left to do. Please stay just a little longer."
The king's words carried no command or calculation, only a heartfelt desire to keep him.
Park Seongjin accepted.
"I understand."
"I will ensure there's a proper place for you in Goeolsan," the king continued. "Once it's settled and built, you can go then."
"No need," Park Seongjin immediately responded.
"I only need a small hermitage by my teacher's tomb."
"No," the king smiled, waving his hand. "I've always felt uneasy about you wanting nothing. I'm relieved that I have something to offer."
Park Seongjin didn't speak any further. He understood the king's feelings.
That night, he did not leave. Yet, in the corner of his heart, he was already measuring the first steps of a long journey.
It took less than three days to reach Gaegyeong. The journey had been quick, but the horses stopped before the city gates. The gates were closed, even in the middle of the day. Soldiers stood on the walls. It was odd. Even with the king's procession arriving, there was no sign of them preparing to open the gates. Their expressions were not welcoming. They looked as though they were standing in a defensive posture, ready to face an enemy.
"Open the gates! It's the king!"
There was no reply. They acted as though they hadn't heard, standing with arrows drawn and spears raised. Park Seongjin felt a chill rise within him. He raised his head and called out to the walls.
"What is this? Open the gates!"
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a coarse voice echoed from the wall above.
"Who goes there?"
Even though the king's flag was clearly visible, the response was one of feigned ignorance.
It was then that an old man, crouching by a thatched house next to the gates, jumped up and shouted,
"It's a rebellion! Those men!"
Park Seongjin's eyes narrowed.
"What?"
"They caused a ruckus before His Majesty arrived!" The old man gasped for breath. "They gathered people and closed the gates…"
Park Seongjin instinctively tensed, but then, he turned around. The king was alone. There was no Jang Injoong, no guards in attendance. Only a handful of escorts. This choice was possible because Park Seongjin was present. Leaving the king behind and rushing into the city was too dangerous now. The ones who had closed the gates might have been waiting for just that opportunity.
The decision was made. He would not go alone. Park Seongjin called out to the gates again.
"His Majesty has returned. Open the gates!"
His voice wasn't loud, but it pressed down on the air in front of the gates.
"What is going on?" The king's voice trembled low. He was still unable to dismount, staring at the closed gates. The soldiers on the walls, the hardened faces as if facing an enemy, showed no signs of welcoming. The king muttered to himself.
"A rebellion? But there were no signs of it. Not until I left."
His gaze wavered for a moment as the past days quickly flashed through his mind—meetings at court, conflicts that had been sealed, words calling for peace. None of them had foreseen this day.
"Who dares..." His words trailed off. The king turned to look at Park Seongjin. He wanted to ask what was happening. But first, what surfaced was self-blame. People always find the weakest point when the ruler isn't present. The king gritted his teeth. Though there was confusion, he did not retreat. Now that he had returned, he had to face what had happened inside the city.
Park Seongjin scanned the left and right sides of the city walls. The soldiers above had already aimed their arrows at him. He immediately returned to the king's side.
"There may be enemies hidden," Park Seongjin said.
"I cannot leave you alone and rush in." His words were firm.
The king looked up at the city walls, then laughed briefly.
"Right. They must be after me." He paused, taking a deep breath and steadying himself. "If I'm safe, I can handle the rest."
"What will you do?"
The king's question carried both urgency and anger.
Park Seongjin immediately made his decision.
"Let's head to Heungwangsa."
"Once we ensure Your Majesty's safety, I will act."
When he paused, the king asked, "Or..."
"We press forward right now."
Park Seongjin's voice was low, but firm.
"We will break through, one step at a time."
"We will find out who did this and why, until the end."
"Then..." The king swallowed and asked again. "The damage will be great."
"There's no damage yet."
"But if we do that, innocent lives could be lost."
The king fell silent for a moment. Just then, the noise above the gates intensified. Shadows gathered on the watchtower. The sounds of metal clashing, bows being drawn, and arrows being strung were clearly heard.
"Shields!" Park Seongjin shouted sharply.
The guards accompanying them immediately moved. The shields formed a semi-circle in front of the king.
The warmth disappeared from Park Seongjin's face. His expression hardened. Though he couldn't see above, he knew. They weren't preparing for a warning—they were preparing for an attack.
The sound of arrows being drawn scratched the air. Park Seongjin's chest reacted first. It wasn't a resolve to kill. It was a calculation to end this situation and buy time. He understood the difference.
That was what made it so difficult. If they were enemies, killing them would end it. But the people above weren't enemies yet.
'Should I kill again?'
The thought, which he had faced countless times on the battlefield, rose again. If he didn't kill, he would die. But now, he couldn't die in place of someone else. Hesitation was the most dangerous. The hesitation of a commander spreads immediately to others.
In that brief moment, before the arrows reached their target, Park Seongjin's body soared into the air. It felt weightless, as though gravity had been forgotten. He reached the height of the watchtower in a single bound, swinging both arms widely. The air split. It wasn't wind—it was pressure.
The archers who had been preparing their aim were thrown back. Thud. People tumbled to the ground like sheaves of rice. One section of the watchtower collapsed.
One officer, who had been recovering from the fall, was grabbed by Park Seongjin in mid-air. As he slowly descended with the man, he asked, "Who are you?"
"I am the leader of this rebellion."
The man struggled, unable to speak.
Park Seongjin tilted his head, still high above.
"Shall I let you go?"
Only then did he manage to catch his breath.
"Please... let me go!"
"Name."
"Kim... Kim Yong."
A short breath escaped.
"Phew."
Park Seongjin set the man down roughly and shouted, "His name is Kim Yong, Your Majesty!"
The king's face hardened. Immediately, he denied it.
"Kim Yong?"
"That's impossible."
Park Seongjin didn't respond. It was a situation he had seen countless times on the battlefield. Rebellions always started with unexpected names. That's why they succeeded. He didn't draw his sword, but something heavier than a sword was already falling.