Conquest of Tsushima (1)
Dozens of panokseon warships, on the verge of departure, bobbed their massive hulls with the waves. But the eyes of the naval troops aboard trembled more precariously than the sea itself. Their foe was the elite soldiers of Shimazu, lords of Kyushu. And the crushing weight of heading to Tsushima across the border without the king's permission bore down on the men like it would shatter their shoulders. Rebellion and death. Those twin terrors hung thick as harbor fog.
Then Yi Si-woo slowly ascended to the flagship's deck. His spotless blue official robe fluttered in the dawn breeze, untainted by a single drop of blood.
"Listen up, all of you."
Yi Si-woo gently placed a hand on the shoulder of a young sailor clutching his spear like a trembling aspen.
"If what you're harboring right now is fear of death, cast it aside at once. Because we're not sailing to die."
Yi Si-woo drew a bloodstained treaty from his bosom and held it high.
"We're sailing to win—to reclaim what they stole. They lusted after our people's lives and the granary heartlands of Gyeongju. Covet what's not yours, and you forfeit your own."
Yi Si-woo stepped forward to the platform's edge.
"Fear is natural. This battle won't be easy, and some of us won't return. That's war."
The soldiers' gazes locked onto him one by one.
"But tell me this: why did you board this ship? For family? For the people? For this land alone? Doesn't matter what it is. Whatever just crossed your mind—that's why we fight."
Yi Si-woo drew his Byeolun Sword and thrust it skyward.
"So raise your heads, sailors of Joseon! When history records this battle, it won't credit the lofty palace lords. It'll say it was you—right here, shoulder to shoulder—who defended our realm."
"Charge! For Joseon—for yourselves!"
"Waaaaah—!"
Chil-bok's roar, first and fiercest, sparked a thunderous cheer from thousands of throats, shaking the harbor to its core.
Yu Jeon-gan sidled up beside Yi Si-woo.
"Gigi-cheong Director, that was one hell of a speech. Got my blood boiling. Pick that up in Hanyang?"
"Read it in a book as a kid."
Yu Jeon-gan snorted a laugh and adjusted his helmet.
"...First guy like you I've ever met."
As Yu Jeon-gan departed, Yi Si-woo stared out at the horizon alone.
In my past life, sprawled in bed bingeing war speeches—I never imagined I'd be the one delivering one.
Half a day out from Busan Port. Cleaving thick sea mist, ominous flags crested the horizon. A stark cross in a circle. The Shimazu clan's elite fleet—twenty ships strong.
"Enemy sails! Shimazu cross flag!"
The lookout's cry from the mast set drums booming across the waves.
Yu Jeon-gan strode to the deck's center, eyes raking the foe's formation like a hawk.
"Crane wing formation! Hard to starboard! Widen the net and choke 'em before they grab the wind!"
True to form as Samdo Naval Commander. No charts needed—just battlefield-honed instinct reading currents and breeze, arraying the panokseon to perfection.
The hulking warships pivoted ponderously; oars bit deep, tracing a vast semicircle on the sea.
Chil-bok gulped beside Yi Si-woo, jabbing a finger at the enemy.
"Lord, those lead assault ships look bad news. Speed's... gotta be double ours. Hit 'em before they close range."
"I know."
Steady as stone amid the deck's pitch, Yi Si-woo tweaked his upgraded gun sight.
Through the lens, Japanese ships slithered closer, wave-skimming.
They'd clocked Joseon gunnery range to the yard. Dodge inbound shells at the last second, close for matchlock fire—that was the play.
Yi Si-woo turned to Yu Jeon-gan.
"Commander, take out those five lead assault ships first."
"Possible? Way outside our reach. Firing now's just burning powder."
Yi Si-woo replied flatly to the wary tone.
"Not with standard loads. Fix elevation at 11 degrees. Ships one through seven—switch propellant to 3:7 mix."
Yu Jeon-gan scowled, locking eyes.
"Remix propellant? Tweak powder-sulfur mid-fight?"
"Don't, and those assault ships punch our range in three minutes. Then it's matchlocks and blades, not broadsides. Not what you want, right?"
Yi Si-woo's voice didn't waver.
"Ships one to seven! Gigi-cheong Director's orders! Remix propellant! Move!"
Sailors bolted to the magazine, aghast. Precision mixing on a bucking deck? Insanity. But Yi Si-woo's pre-issued scales and charts made it doable.
Yu Jeon-gan leaned in, voice low.
"Director, miss and we're wide open. Gifting 'em the initiative."
"Correct."
"...That it? No margin for error?"
"My math's solid, sir. Tested hundreds of times from Hanyang."
Yu Jeon-gan barked a hollow laugh, helmet straightened.
Ready flag aloft; Yi Si-woo raised his hand slow.
"Now."
"Fire—!"
Yu Jeon-gan's bellow unleashed hell from the gunports.
Boom boom boom—!
Seven panokseon belched flame in sync. Shells arced far beyond Joseon norms, slamming the enemy van's heart.
Waterspouts erupted; Shimazu assault ships shredded like rags.
"Impossible! Direct fire at that range?!"
Shimazu commanders reeled. Safe distance? Vanished.
Five leads: masts splintered, magazines blew—fireballs adrift. Black smoke towered; samurai screams lost to surf.
Yu Jeon-gan gaped, then laughed dryly.
"Director, gunnery wizard too? Never seen hits like that."
"Calculation, not wizardry. Your setup made it."
"Fifteen left. Formation's cracked—your move."
Murder in Yu Jeon-gan's glare. Sword whipped free; he roared to the fleet.
"All ships, flank speed! Ram 'em! Not one gets back to Tsushima!"
Panokseon thundered toward the burning wrecks. Slaughter at sea.
Shimazu, headless and scattered, crumbled before the closing crane wings—like chaff in the wind.
Fleers sail-shot from flank; holdouts ram-smashed to splinters.
Chil-bok eyed the inferno beside Yi Si-woo.
"Lord, no holes for 'em to wriggle through."
"None. That's the formation."
Baek Dong-su lounged on the rail, arms folded.
"Director, sea fights a breeze. Strait or ocean—same game."
"Spot on."
Baek Dong-su squinted north.
"But check it, Director. Six Japanese slips sneaking off-line. Big brute leading, five screening rear."
Yi Si-woo peered. Shimazu's monster flagship. No surrender flag—slipping the noose.
"That one hits Tsushima, they know we're coming."
Yi Si-woo to Yu Jeon-gan: "Fastest two panokseon, sir. We'll bag 'em."
Yu Jeon-gan nodded; orders flew. Pursuers cleaved waves after the runners.
But two tail Japanese whipped prows around—head-on for the chasers.
"Commander's ditching grunts to die while he bolts..."
Baek Dong-su's face hardened.
"Buying flagship escape with their lives."
Yi Si-woo snapped around.
"Collision! Rails—now!"
Crash!Crash!
Japanese ships rammed both flanks at once. Deck buckled; men spilled.
Shock unspent, grapples arced—hauled ships tight.
"Boarders! Both sides!"
Pirates swarmed ropes onto port and starboard together.
Yi Si-woo sword out, pointed starboard.
"I'll take port. Brother Baek—starboard."
"On it."
Baek Dong-su bolted starboard; main force trailed.
Yi Si-woo wheeled port.
"Chil-bok, Jangyongyeong—all port. Mow 'em down as they crest."
"Yes sir!"
Jangyongyeong surged with bayonets leading.
Starboard: Baek Dong-su's blade a blur. No fear into three rushers.
Parried first sword, gut-kicked second. Third speared high—his slash took throat first.
Slash. Slash—
"That all you got? More!"
Baek Dong-su menaced the next; sailors shoved starboard clear.
Port: Jangyongyeong muzzles flashed.
Boom boom—!
First barrage hosed the van boarders.
But the flood followed—ropes, grapples, endless.
Yi Si-woo slung rifle, bared Byeolun Sword.
"I hold till reload."
Chil-bok gawked.
"You personally, lord?!"
Yi Si-woo advanced mute.
First pirate hacked wild. Sidestep—tip nicked wrist. Blade cartwheeled skyward.
Spear thrust; Yi Si-woo seized shaft, wrenched.
Third sword arced for shoulder—Byeolun kissed wrist first.
Slash—
Economy of motion. Deflect, expose. Minimal for maximal gap.
"Reloaded!"
Yi Si-woo fell back; second Jangyongyeong volley thundered.
Boom boom—!
Boarder pile vaporized.
Dual squeeze broke pirate rush. Baek Dong-su starboard, guns port—hesitation spread.
Baek Dong-su beheaded starboard's last.
"Starboard done!"
"Port finishing."
Yi Si-woo sighted the final pirate.
Bang—
Deck hushed.
Baek Dong-su panted over, sleeve blood-flecked.
"Clear."
"Injured?"
"Theirs."
Yi Si-woo scanned horizon. Amid melee, Shimazu flagship was a speck.
Pursuers snagged in suicide scrum; flagship plus three escorts ghosted free. Four total.
Yu Jeon-gan, mopping remnants: "That lot hits Tsushima first, alarm's raised."
"Which means we push harder."
Sunset neared; Shimazu flags gone. Sixteen of twenty sunk or seized. Four—flagship and guards—stomped underling corpses to flee.
Yu Jeon-gan eyed the pyres.
"Director, Tsushima-bound now?"
"Yes. Beat 'em there."
Yu Jeon-gan nodded.
"Half day. No slacking."
The fleet swung prows south.