Wokou Subjugation (1)
The Jangyongyeong's five hundred resolute warriors marching south along the Yeongnam-daero exuded the momentum of a colossal wave. Yet at the heart of that wave simmered a taut tension.
"My lord! Please reconsider once more. This is reckless folly, ignorant of even the basics of military strategy!"
The man who spurred his horse right up to block Si-woo's path was Yi Myeong-hyeon, a captain of the Jangyongyeong. Personally selected and dispatched by King Jeongjo to assist Si-woo, his shoulders—bare above his two-layered armor—were rock-hard, and his eyes gleamed with the unyielding integrity unique to a stickler for principles.
Si-woo closed his pocket watch atop his horse and replied indifferently. "Captain, it's been over three days since reports from Busan and Ulsan ceased. If the enemy has seized the ports, their next target will be Gyeongju, the throat of the interior. If we can't secure supplies there and get isolated, our troops will starve before even reaching Busan."
"Even so, to select just a hundred elites and charge straight into the heart of the enemy! We can still move with the main force without issue. His Majesty ordered me to ensure your safety. To stand by while you throw yourself into mortal peril would be a shame worse than death for me!"
Before Yi Myeong-hyeon could finish, Baek Dong-su, who had been listening silently from the side, tapped his sword hilt and interjected. "Hey, Captain, don't worry so much. I'm right here, aren't I? Not a speck of dust will touch the Gigi-cheong Director's collar until my blade snaps."
"Baek Inspector! This isn't about personal martial prowess. An army must be as immovable as a mountain...!"
Si-woo reined in his horse to a halt. "Captain. You take Chil-bok and lead the main force of four hundred down the Yeongnam-daero. Lose the supply wagons, and we're done for. I'll go ahead, secure the Gyeongju magistracy, and open the supply route to Busan. The main force will form the anvil at the center, while the vanguard strikes like a dagger at their weak points. This is the path to victory I've devised—so just trust me and follow."
"B-but..."
Yi Myeong-hyeon bit his lip hard. Si-woo's eyes held an irresistible conviction. In the end, he dismounted, knelt, and bowed his head. "...I obey your command, my lord. But until the main force arrives, avoid any rash skirmishes at all costs."
"Understood. See you in Gyeongju."
At Si-woo's hand signal, the elite hundred peeled off from the main body and plunged into the shortcut through the forest path. Watching Si-woo's figure vanish amid the rising dust, Yi Myeong-hyeon clenched his fist tight.
Si-woo and Baek Dong-su's vanguard of a hundred scaled the mountains without sparing even mealtime, pressing on relentlessly. Si-woo had stripped their packs of pots and rice sacks, issuing instead high-concentration uncooked rice powder and dried meat rations blended at the Gigi-cheong. Thanks to meals eaten on the march, they gained four extra hours of marching time each day.
News of Busan and Ulsan's peril had already spread to the Gyeongju outskirts. Abandoned bundles littered the roadside from fleeing refugees, and black smoke rose from distant village edges.
"Gigi-cheong Director, the air's foul. I smell bloodlust."
Baek Dong-su gripped his sword hilt and spoke. Si-woo, too, drew his telescope from atop his horse. Ahead lay a narrow gorge, flanked by dense woods on both sides.
"All troops, halt."
The instant Si-woo's order fell, a bizarre roar erupted from the forest.
Waaaa—!
Some hundred fifty wokou—gaudy red helmets and crude tattoos on their limbs—burst through the trees. Spotting the Joseon force numbered only a hundred, they bared yellowed teeth and cackled.
"Joseon dogs! Hack 'em down and loot their goods!"
The wokou charged with frenzied eyes, but Si-woo didn't so much as blink. Instead, he calmly nodded to Baek Dong-su beside him.
"Brother, looks like the reckless skirmish our captain feared has begun. But we can't let these scum block the supply route to Gyeongju."
Baek Dong-su twisted his lips into a grin, turned, and bellowed. "All troops, prepare matchlocks! Show them the might of the Jangyongyeong!"
The vanguard hundred raised their firearms in unison. Not the filthy old matchlocks with smoldering fuses, but sleek brass fittings and razor-sharp barrels aimed at the wokou hearts. As the men expertly cocked the hammers, a click sounded, the flint-loaded cocks snapping upright.
"Range: one hundred paces. Aim... fire!"
Bang—! Rat-tat-tang!
Acrid gunsmoke billowed with thunder that shook heaven and earth. Lead balls, rifled precisely at the Gigi-cheong and spinning fiercely, hammered the wokou chests mercilessly. A single volley toppled the front twenty like scarecrows.
"Wh-what sorcery is this...? Charge! They're only a hundred!"
A ronin leader, face scarred by a hideous sword gash, swung his greatsword and roared. Riding that momentum, the wokou trampled their dead comrades and howled as they closed in—but Si-woo merely stared ahead, unmoved.
Meanwhile, the men's hands moved with practiced fury. Muzzles already torn open by teeth, next rounds rammed home. Three times faster than old matchlocks, the reload speed shifted the battlefield's air.
As the wokou raised blades to narrow the gap, the second thunderclap shredded the gorge's silence.
Ku-kwang—! Rat-tat-tang!
Salvo after salvo felled a third of the wokou like autumn leaves. As the smoke cleared, greed in the survivors' eyes turned to terror. The moment their steps faltered, Si-woo vaulted indifferently from his saddle.
"Brother, care to stretch your legs after so long?"
Landing, Si-woo's sword traced a slanted arc. The lead wokou's head soared skyward without a scream.
"Haha! Sounds good! Wanna bet on who fells more?"
Baek Dong-su growled like a beast and plunged into their midst. Their crude blades couldn't graze his sleeve ends; each swing claimed two or three heads. Si-woo matched him stride for stride, parrying lightly before thrusting into gaps to pierce wokou hearts precisely.
"You bastards! You dare touch my men?!"
The ronin leader raised his greatsword and lunged at Si-woo. A mighty blow whistling through the air—but Si-woo twisted aside, deflecting the blade and slashing the man's wrist in riposte.
"Gaaak!"
Before the greatsword hit the ground, Si-woo's blade stabbed the ronin's chest in a lightning flurry. As the leader staggered, vomiting blood, Si-woo murmured low.
"This is payment for the Joseon blood you spilled."
Slash—!
A single clean trajectory. The ronin leader's head rolled, frozen in shock, and the remaining wokou hurled weapons aside, prostrating in terror.
The fight ended in less than half a shichen. Surveying the blood-soaked field, Si-woo summoned a messenger.
"Relay this to the captain: Of the hundred fifty ronin blocking the path, we've slain over a hundred ten. Tell the main force to follow, gather the corpses, and enter Gyeongju. We'll take the remaining prisoners ahead to the magistracy."
As the messenger galloped off, Si-woo gazed toward distant Gyeongju fortress.
"We must hurry. If Busan and Ulsan are already laid waste, Gyeongju is our last supply bastion. Fail to seize it fully, and the five hundred marching south will crumble to hunger before drawing steel."
Gyeongju Magistrate Kim Sa-ik tossed a secret ledger into the office brazier and leisurely lifted his teacup.
The vanguard crossed Joryeong just yesterday, per the report. Even rushing with supply wagons down Yeongnam-daero, it'll take at least three days.
He eyed the smoldering stack of ledgers in the yard corner, acrid smoke billowing. The sight of years' embezzled grain records turning to ash felt almost serene. Three days was plenty. Wipe the slate clean, then fob off the Jangyongyeong scum with rotten rice, claiming wokou raids ruined supplies.
Kraaak—!
Then it came—a scream-laced shout shattering the magistracy's peace beyond the main gate.
"Wh-who goes there?! Halt! Do you know where you—urk!"
Hooves thundered, followed by a dull thud echoing into the office. Kim Sa-ik set down his cup, frowning.
"What's the commotion?! Which fool safety dares smash through the magistracy gate?!"
Not even fully shod, Kim Sa-ik dashed across the veranda into the yard. But his mouth gaped instead of roaring.
There stood a hundred elite troops, dust- and blood-caked like demons fresh from hell. Shattered gate fragments littered the yard; terrified clerks whimpered in corners.
At the center, atop his horse, a man gazed down with chilling eyes.
Instead of words, Si-woo drew the imperial seal from King Jeongjo and thrust it before Kim Sa-ik's eyes.
"Jangyongyeong Gigi-cheong Director, Yi Si-woo."
At the curt name, Kim Sa-ik paled instantly.
Yi Si-woo? The Gigi-cheong Director here already?!
Kim Sa-ik's mind raced. Per reports, the main force should be near Joryeong. Over rugged mountains, even rushing meant three days—yet this man had devoured that time whole.
Impossible. Human stamina covering that trail three days early? He's no beast.
As Kim Sa-ik froze, Si-woo dismounted and approached slowly. A drop of wokou blood from his sleeve splashed the yard dirt.
Si-woo's gaze passed Kim Sa-ik, fixing on the distant burning ledgers. With a mocking smirk, he speared a half-charred book on his blade tip and lifted it.
Black ash dusted his sleeve, but he ignored it, merely looking down at the pathetically slumped Kim Sa-ik.
"I hurried here hearing wokou flames lick Gyeongju soil—yet the smoke rises first from your own magistracy yard."
Si-woo shoved the still-smoldering ledger under Kim Sa-ik's nose. Choked by acrid fumes and Si-woo's murderous aura, Kim Sa-ik staggered back, breathless.
"Magistrate, what a fiery welcome. While my troops bled to open supply lines against wokou, you amused yourself with this fine bonfire."
"N-no, it's not... Just clearing old books! No other intent...!"
Kim Sa-ik flailed, ashen-faced, but Si-woo's low voice stabbed like a dagger over the flickering paper.
"My soldiers scaled mountains, skipping meals to reach here. Little did I dream you'd spend that precious time so diligently incinerating your crimes."
Si-woo turned, eyes locking on Kim Sa-ik—mockery devoid of pity.
"Such devotion to burning ledgers means the granaries must be equally empty. Am I wrong? You know better than I what the law calls abandoning army rations and falsifying records in wartime."
Heavier than any shout, the sarcasm choked Kim Sa-ik. Urging reply, Si-woo's cold blade kissed his throat, raising gooseflesh.
"From this moment, I seize all Gyeongju magistracy warehouses, rations, and command seals. Rob my soldiers of a single grain, and you'll fill the void with your office and your head."
Si-woo's eyes narrowed like a predator's.
"Does that sound like a jest?"
Kim Sa-ik couldn't scream, merely blinking milky eyes, frozen like stone.