Chapter 339. The Great Battle of Hubodagang — The Pursuit Ends
Youngwoo stopped the pursuit on a field more than a hundred li from the battlefield.
Nearly two hundred thousand Liao soldiers were fleeing ahead of them.
He could not allow them time to stop and reform their ranks.
If they gathered again, they could become the seed of another battle.
With that one thought in mind, Youngwoo kept driving his horse forward.
He chased those fleeing ahead, cut apart scattered groups, and broke up soldiers trying to gather again.
There seemed to be no end.
Abandoned spears, broken wagon wheels, torn banners, and riderless horses stretched along the red-earth road.
Those ahead ran to survive.
Those behind pursued to prevent them from ever becoming an army again.
Only after Youngwoo judged that the enemy had lost all chance of reforming into an organized force did he finally rein in his horse.
Even then, heat still burned in the eyes of the men holding swords and spears.
Once the violence of battle caught fire, it did not cool easily in a man's hands.
Youngwoo ordered the gong to be struck.
"Stop! Sound the gong!"
The ringing carried far.
Clang.
Clang.
Clang.
The sharp sound spread over the dust and the smell of blood.
One by one, the pursuing soldiers slowed their horses.
Men who still wanted to ride farther pulled back on the reins.
Hands holding swords gradually lowered.
Only then did the long tail of the rout and the ragged breathing of the pursuers come to a halt on the same field.
Youngwoo saw his master not far away.
Baek Ingyeom.
He had led the immortals all the way to the end of the pursuit.
Dust clung to his white beard and blood spotted the hem of his robe, yet his steps and his eyes remained clear.
Youngwoo immediately rode toward him.
He jumped down from his horse.
The moment his feet touched the ground, he dropped to one knee, brought both hands together, and bowed deeply.
The hand holding the loosened reins touched the earth.
They stood in the middle of a battlefield.
On a field where dust still hung in the air and groans had yet to fade, a victorious commander lowered his head before his master.
"Master, you came."
Youngwoo remained bowed as he waited for an answer.
The commanders and soldiers around them caught their breath at the depth of his respect.
Even the Balhae soldiers stopped moving in their saddles.
This was the same man who had been cutting through the enemy only moments before.
The same man who had charged toward the emperor's banner with a spear in his hands.
And now Youngwoo knelt in the dirt like nothing more than a disciple.
Strangely, the man who bowed seemed greater for it.
Baek Ingyeom dismounted.
He took Youngwoo by the arm and raised him.
His white beard moved in the winter wind, and a broad smile spread across his face.
Even in the middle of the battlefield, his refined bearing remained untouched.
"My, my. What am I supposed to do if our Commander Yi keeps bowing this deeply?"
"Master."
Baek Ingyeom lightly patted Youngwoo's shoulder.
"It was hard, wasn't it?"
Youngwoo swallowed.
The words would not come at once.
After a long moment, he finally answered in a low voice.
"We won."
Baek Ingyeom nodded.
"You did well. You worked hard."
Those few words sank deep into Youngwoo's chest.
It no longer mattered if the whole world failed to notice him.
It did not matter whose name the generals and soldiers would attach to this victory.
A single phrase from his master—
You did well.
—was enough to melt away all the exhaustion that had gathered inside him.
Youngwoo had established a new standard in a sparsely populated land.
With that standard, he had built an army, improved its armor, trained its horses, and brought bow, spear, and banner into one rhythm.
He had endured resistance from within, passed through endless doubt, and taken responsibility upon himself.
Today, all of it had been proven on the battlefield of Hubodagang.
Youngwoo bowed again.
This time, it was deeper than any military salute.
It was the bow of a disciple.
Amid blood and dust, that gesture alone remained clear.
As Youngwoo lowered himself, the Goryeo soldiers behind him also paid their respects one after another.
They raised their spear shafts, bowed their heads, and shouted "Loyalty!" as they celebrated the victory.
The Jin forces were still scattered in every direction, pursuing the defeated Liao troops, but the Goryeo soldiers had already begun calming the heat of battle and restoring their ranks.
The Balhae troops halted behind them as well.
Youngwoo pointed toward them.
"Master, these are the Balhae soldiers."
Baek Ingyeom's eyes narrowed slightly.
These were people who still held on to the name of a country that had disappeared two hundred years ago as though it were the name of their own people.
A country could vanish, yet its name could remain.
And while the name remained, men's hearts could remain bound to it.
Baek Ingyeom studied the Balhae soldiers for a long moment, as though trying to understand the weight of that feeling.
Go Hoewon dismounted and bowed respectfully.
"I am Go Hoewon of Liaoyang."
Go Youngchang stood behind him.
Go Hoewon added quietly,
"This is my nephew. He served as a personal officer under Xiao Sixian before submitting to us."
Baek Ingyeom looked at Go Youngchang.
"Liaoyang, then."
Go Youngchang brought his hands together and bowed deeply.
"I have long heard of your honored name, Master. It is an honor to meet you."
Baek Ingyeom smiled faintly.
"I am hardly someone worthy of such words."
Go Hoewon looked back toward the woman behind him, still breathing hard.
Okjeong's shoulders rose and fell as though she had yet to put down her bow.
A thumb ring still remained on her hand.
Go Hoewon said,
"My daughter. Her name is Okjeong."
Okjeong bowed her head.
Still wearing the thumb ring, she brought both hands together and offered a deep bow.
The heat of battle remained in her eyes, but her manners were composed.
Youngwoo explained on their behalf.
"They were preparing to rise in rebellion while Liao was weakening, so I stopped them. I thought Liao would survive for several years yet. If they rose too early, their lives would be ruined completely."
Baek Ingyeom looked at Youngwoo again.
The remark about Liao surviving several more years did not sound casual.
It meant that even if this battle ended, the war itself would have another end.
He could even have taken it to mean that Youngwoo was looking farther into the future.
Youngwoo continued.
"So I told them to join the ranks that would destroy Liao instead. If they raised a rebellion, they would only start fighting among themselves over who should become king and who should not. Just as the Yeol and Dae clans once fought one another."
At the mention of men fighting over who should become king, Go Youngchang lowered his head.
Perhaps he feared his expression might show.
People held different views on why Balhae had never risen again.
The greatest barrier had been the power of the Liao Empire.
Even so, some believed that divided hearts and fractured factions had steadily consumed what strength Balhae still possessed.
Judgment after the fact was always easy.
Once a country had already fallen, anyone could explain why.
But the people who had stood there at the time had been forced to choose their path as though searching through fog.
Go Youngchang understood the meaning of Youngwoo's words.
That was why he bowed his head even lower.
For two hundred years, repeated attempts to restore Balhae had all ended in failure.
That was one reason the Balhae soldiers of Liaoyang stood on this battlefield today.
What they needed was not another cry to raise a king.
They needed first to fight together and earn merit.
They needed a road by which they could survive, earn a name, and use that name to protect their people.
Baek Ingyeom looked in turn at Go Hoewon, Go Youngchang, and Okjeong.
These were not men and women who had simply arrived late to the battlefield.
They were people holding on to the name of a fallen country while searching for a place within a new order now rising.
Their armor clearly showed signs of hurried repairs.
Their horses breathed harshly after the long charge.
But their eyes were clear.
Baek Ingyeom spoke slowly as he looked over the Balhae soldiers.
"Two hundred years have passed, and still you have not let go of the name Balhae."
Go Hoewon answered quietly.
"If we let go even of that name, there will be no way left to say where we came from. Because that name remains, scattered people have been able to gather again. The name Balhae is what draws those scattered people back together."
Baek Ingyeom quietly nodded.
Youngwoo looked from one man to the other.
The winter wind of Liaodong passed through blood and dust.
The battle of Hubodagang was coming to an end.
But for these people, another beginning was opening.