Chapter 75
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Famine
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The kingdom of Goryeo, when selecting and appointing talents, generally divided them into two broad categories.
Civil officials who handled state administration, the enactment of laws and judgments, and the operation of the nation.
Military officials who trained their bodies and honed their martial skills to protect the country and repel foreign invaders.
This was markedly different from the empire, where even bureaucrats in administrative roles were required to possess a certain level of martial prowess.
Unlike the Central Plains empire, which harbored the bizarre world of the martial arts, Goryeo had the conditions to fully control its warriors from the center.
It was the reason such an abnormal structure could exist, where even peak martial artists who could snap a person's neck with a flick of their finger obeyed the commands of ordinary mortals.
Civil officials did not have their time for state affairs stolen by devoting themselves excessively to martial pursuits.
Military officials could focus purely on martial arts without having their training time stolen by studying literature and dealing with paperwork.
However, like all such divisions of labor, this worked only under the premise that those holding the reins did not become corrupt and respected each other.
Civil officials, basking in successive peace and unchallenged dominance, began to entertain foolish thoughts: Were these military officials truly necessary for the nation?
As civil officials reduced their authority, cut their stipends, discriminated in their treatment, and their neglect turned to outright contempt, the military officials' patience finally ran out.
"Hmmm..."
So-hyang wore an intrigued expression at this unfolding similar to the original history.
The causes and results were roughly the same... but the details differed slightly.
A coup to seize the authority that should have been theirs and the treatment they rightfully deserved.
Goryeo was swiftly engulfed in the flames of civil war.
"...Of course, that doesn't mean the nation was truly doomed to that extent."
Though it was an act of self-destruction from within, the outcome was merely a change in the ruling class.
Naturally, it was a victory for the military officials, and aside from their shaky governance due to inexperience in state administration, there were no major issues.
"However, it was precisely then that enemies from the Yeondo islands launched an invasion."
To the east of the Haedong Peninsula, across the sea, lay a nation composed of islands stretching in a chain.
A land strangely dominated by otherworldly clans of monsters, demons, spirits, and divinities.
With temptations from all manner of malevolent beings clashing against guidance from divine entities, the people—on no vast territory—were locked in endless mutual strife and conflict, perpetuating an era of ceaseless war.
An age of chaos known as the Warring States period.
And it was amid Goryeo's chaotic governance in the aftermath of the military coup that this chaotic era came to an end.
"...Because the one who pacified the warring states and subdued all manner of demons appeared: the Wind God Water Path."
So-hyang, listening quietly to the explanation, began to sense something off starting here.
The timing was too early, and the circumstances seemed severely twisted.
"Hmm?"
Feng Shen Shui Gil—Toyotomi Hideyoshi in the tongue of the islands.
A lone onmyoji who rose from nothing to subjugate the myriad evil spirits and demons rampant across the islands.
"Frankly, whether he truly 'subjugated' them in any real sense... I'm not sure. Considering his conduct, it wouldn't be strange to say he was swallowed by the yokai instead."
Whether to feed those demons or driven by his inherent ambitions, he crossed the sea and abruptly assaulted Goryeo.
Leading hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of malevolent beings, he revealed his lust to trample the peninsula's lands.
"...Imjin Waeran?"
"Pardon? It is called the Waeran, but since it didn't occur in the Imjin year, calling it the Imjin Waeran would be odd."
His procession of one ghost pacifying the night parade of a hundred ghosts was dubbed the Night Parade of One Ghost.
Terrified commoners even called him the Ghost King, so it could also be termed the Ghost King's March.
One Ghost.
Ghost King.
Under the assault of the monster who unified the islands, Goryeo descended into utter pandemonium.
"But in the end, we overcame that too."
"...You overcame that as well?"
Though the civil war had reduced their forces somewhat and depleted resources, the core strength of the military officials remained largely intact.
Above all, there existed a transcendent guardian of Goryeo.
Protector of the Nation Scripture, Goryeo's Foremost Sword.
The supreme warrior who had attained the stellar rank with his blade.
Sword Star, Cheok Jun-kyung.
The transcendent one, who had not meddled in worldly affairs, drew his sword against the incursion of foreign powers wielding corrupt might.
Breaking his seclusion in Mount Gok, he crossed the battlefield alone, clashed blades with the leader in single combat, and at the end of a fierce battle, severed Feng Shen Shui Gil's head.
"Of course, the ghost army lost its focal point and scattered in disarray, leaving some lingering aftermath, but it wasn't enough to destroy the nation."
Though the land's vital energy waned and ghosts rampaged across the country, it wasn't to the point of calling it utter doom.
"Then why on earth was it doomed?"
Not self-destructed by civil war, not defeated by invading foreign forces amid chaos—it had weathered such crises, so why did the nation fall?
The answer was simple.
"A famine struck."
"...Huh?"
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Suddenly, the heavens turned capricious, and the climate grew bizarre.
Hail would fall abruptly in midsummer; torrential rains would persist for months in one region; others saw not a drop for ages.
To make matters worse, swarms of locusts erupted, and epidemics spread.
Normally, if one area suffered famine, others would be average or bountiful—but that year, all eight provinces of the nation reaped poor harvests.
It was an unprecedented catastrophe.
The greatest famine in the peninsula's history, likely never to be seen again.
Hell descended upon the mortal world.
"Farmers, unable to produce even enough to embezzle, boiled and ate their dead children."
There was nothing edible anywhere under heaven.
"Not only the common folk—even officials starved to death in droves, unable to find sustenance."
Even the royal table was served barley rice.
"After the Waeran, all sorts of demonic beasts and yokai rampaged across the peninsula, and I witnessed starving, maddened people hunting and devouring them."
One could only wonder where they found the strength to fell yokai—and those who ate yokai flesh became yokai themselves.
Then they starved to death.
A hell where even malevolent beings recoiled, and wicked yokai perished from hunger.
The hell of hungry ghosts that arrived in the mortal world was just that.
"...There was simply no way to manage it."
Having endured internal strife and foreign invasion, their stockpiled grain had already bottomed out.
Even a normal harvest would have required tightening belts.
In such straits, the great famine—which would have been a disaster even with ample treasury—arrived, and Goryeo inexorably tumbled down the path of decline.
"...We couldn't even seek aid from foreign powers."
Having overthrown the king via coup, Goryeo's diplomatic reputation was at its nadir; no neighboring state would buy their bonds.
After the civil war and Waeran, repayable assets were depleted, leaving barely enough to buy a week's rations for the people.
They even tried selling off core national territories, but found no buyers.
Land steeped in ghostly and demonic qi would fetch premium only after time for purification—at present, it would go for a pittance.
"Doom befell the nation."
The entire peninsula withered and twisted.
The people lacked even the strength to scream, reduced to mere groans.
The wisdom of civil officials, the prowess of military officers, the transcendent power of the Protector—all were useless.
Inevitable ruin. The nation perished.
"Wait, what is this...?"
So-hyang's face filled with incredulity.
Military coup, Imjin Waeran, Great Famine of Gyeongsin...
It was all jumbled and twisted.
Events that should have come at mismatched times, across different dynasties spanning centuries, had crammed into mere decades.
Internal conflict, foreign invasion, natural disasters.
At this point, it felt like some absolute being had moved to shatter Goryeo.
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With food, credit, and treasury all emptied, the sole remaining resource in present-day Goryeo was one.
Human resources.
More precisely, warriors.
"We dispatched troops. Infantry, navy, cavalry—without exception."
"...This time it's mercenaries?"
To the empire, southern barbarians, distant frontiers, Yue Nan, the islands, unheard-of western savages—regardless of origin or allegiance, they sold their military might.
They left not even minimal forces for national defense. It was meaningless anyway.
Central and provincial armies—all sent out.
Even the royal guard, Crane Control Army, Dragon-Lead Army, Patrol Inspection Army—all dispatched.
Despairingly, even the money and food scraped from wringing their bodies dry fell far short of resolving the crisis.
"They roamed ceaseless battlefields without rest. Some died to enemy blades, others collapsed from exhaustion."
No one blamed lack of training.
It was a forced march that ravaged body and soul.
"Some deserted from the nations they fought for, forgetting loyalty."
They weren't branded traitors or cursed.
It was devotion so depleting that fleeing was natural, understandable.
Even they themselves had felt the temptation countless times to abandon country and kin alike, fleeing with family alone.
Yet squeezing and grinding people yielded scant returns.
It was mere futile thrashing to eke out a bit more time for survival.
"As it was, there was no hope."
Forces dwindled; no improvement in sight.
So they resorted to a gamble.
The greatest tycoon capable of lending sums beyond the national budget.
Kidnapping Third Imperial Princess Zhu Yeonhwa to extort funds... a mad plan, no matter how you sliced it.
But no other path even offered a chance to turn things around.
"...It failed in the end."
Yi Chun's eyes were hollow and lifeless, and the assassins who had come to their senses and prostrated behind him were the same.
"Come to think of it, you all look utterly gaunt."
Pity flickered in So-hyang's eyes.
Their bodies were uniformly emaciated.
Thinking of starving families and compatriots back home, they couldn't bring themselves to eat.
For their assassin work, for bare mobility, they took minimal nutrition—but that was it.
Desperation driving them to disregard life itself.
Not born of brainwashing or fanatic ideology, but genuine, abject desperation spurring their struggles.
"Your Highness, let's continue the story later."
"...Hmm? What do you—"
Her silvery-white eyes gleamed murderously, sleeves rolled up to bare smooth skin.
"These people need to eat first. Negotiations and recruitment can come after."
So-hyang simply couldn't bear seeing them like that.