Proclaiming the Imperial Era
The Khitan people chose to become Goryeo citizens. With nothing pressing to do, they migrated to the mainland without any coercion, took up fishing on the Liaodong Peninsula, or enlisted in the Yodong Byeolcho Army. Lured by promises of high pay, some even joined the navy to escort the fleet.
Of course, the Khitans who became Goryeo sailors this way felt utterly duped! But once they received their generous advance wages, they had no choice but to train diligently, even while seasick and in tears.
These newly forged modern navies would now serve as exploration teams or join the grand ocean fleet guarding Goryeo's seas.
At last, the keel ship fleet was complete. One squadron was dedicated to westward pioneering expeditions. Tasked with voyages to Southeast Asia and Arabia, it consisted of one large keel ship escorted by two medium vessels.
Does that sound small? Each large keel ship carried about 100 men by standard capacity, and medium ships around 60. The large ones stretched 40 meters long and 10 meters wide, displacing 300 to 400 tons by my estimates.
On top of that, 40 specialized crew handled steering and sails after long practice. Another 40 elite guards, mostly Goryeo marines armed with iron cannons and steel crossbows. And 20 specialists: envoys, interpreters, doctors, cooks, repairmen, and the like.
"The fact that it's our first time is the issue, though."
Still, we'd put them through plenty of work. I figured it'd somehow turn out fine.
For now, they'd set out from Byeokrando, aiming for Quanzhou—the Song's international trade port—Champa in Vietnam, Sumbawa in Indonesia, Ceylon in Sri Lanka, Kollam in India, Hormuz, and Basra in Arabia.
The scale might seem modest, but these were enormous ships bristling with cannons, crewed alongside battle-hardened Goryeo elites from the Mongol wars. Hardly insignificant.
We'd already hired guides in Byeokrando through Arabian merchants. Trade goods: Goryeo celadon, ginseng, and steel.
Goryeo celadon was already renowned, and ginseng was well-known to Arabian traders—especially after we'd dumped fake wild ginseng on them. As for steel, I wasn't sure how superior it was, but since we'd been cranking it out for cannon production, the quality should be decent enough.
"You mean you're building hundreds of these?"
"Hundreds might be a stretch."
Building hundreds? That would mean abandoning the army entirely for the navy—and could we even afford it? Dozens alone would seize dominance in the East.
"Gyojung Byeolgam. An envoy from Jin has arrived."
"From Jin? Isn't that something His Majesty should handle?"
"His Majesty has entrusted it to you, Gyojung Byeolgam."
Hmm, really? Let's see, then.
I decided to receive Jin's envoy personally in the grand hall.
"I am Choi Yeon, acting Supreme Commander of Goryeo. What brings you from Jin?"
"Our Jin and Goryeo have long shared deep bonds. Even in our dire straits, we ceded Liaodong to you and recognized it as Goryeo territory. Yet you sell those new weapons to Song? How could you do this to us?"
Hmm, basically calling it betrayal.
"Hey now! 'Ceded'? Isn't Jin the country that lost it to the Mongols and couldn't take it back anyway? 'Ceded,' my foot!"
As Jusuk raised his voice, the Jin envoy cleared his throat awkwardly.
"Liaodong has always been Goryeo land. How dare a Jurchen upstart like Jin spout such nonsense?"
Daejipseong piled on so provocatively that I shot him a glare, and the envoy quickly looked away.
No real reason to provoke Jin right now. What was the point of bullying a pitiful fallen state? They'd lost all of Manchuria, and even the Jurchens there followed me now. I was certain Jin's Iron Pagoda cavalry, once pure Jurchens, now included Han Chinese who'd gone native.
No need to get heated. Even arguments should be elegant.
"Liaodong and the old Jin heartlands were our ancestors' lands first. Returning them is only natural. Besides, does Jin even have the power to reclaim Liaodong now? Frankly, if we mobilized hundreds of thousands, you'd be crushed between Song and Goryeo. Could you handle that? Have you forgotten the Nine Northeastern Castles?"
"Your words go too far!"
The Nine Northeastern Castles were their berserk button. Jin founder Wanyan Aguda's brother, Wanyan Wuashu, had begged Goryeo for them. We'd handed them over since we couldn't manage them ourselves, but the Wanyan clan had groveled to Goryeo.
Now, with power reversed, no need to bow to Jin.
"It's your country that's overstepped, not us. You served Goryeo as a parental state, then flipped like a pancake once you founded your own—daring to pressure our emperor, descendant of the Western Sea Dragon King, to submit as your vassal. A nation blind to our grace calls us excessive? Mark this well: Goryeo could march 200,000 well-trained troops into the Central Plains tomorrow. Even the Mongols dare not touch us, granting passage permits and opening steppe trade routes. And Jin thinks it can threaten us?"
Shring! The generals in the hall simultaneously gripped their sword hilts. They were ready to behead the envoy at a word.
Yes. That's what made this a true military regime.
"Ahem. Selling weapons to Song threatens Jin's security—that's the issue."
The envoy tried to gloss over it, pretending nothing happened. But was that our concern?
"We sold them, didn't give them away. And to be frank, if Jin doesn't attack Song, they wouldn't suffer losses, right?"
Jin had to pay tribute to the Mongols just to survive, but pride wouldn't let them admit it to us outright. Hence the gritted teeth.
"Their new weapons devastate our cavalry's horses—the foundation of our mounted forces."
I see. But Goryeo had no such issues. We'd expanded into Manchuria and secured more horses. Cavalry was no problem. We'd even been breeding them on Tamra just in case.
Horses were still the era's ultimate strategic asset. Anyone building cavalry needed vast herds.
"But we're busy filling our coffers too, so we can't stop selling. Fine, then. We'll sell Jin horses and steel."
A bombshell for a nomadic dynasty like Jin. Teabagging, essentially.
Their elite Iron Pagoda heavy cavalry needed horses to raid Song. Sure, they doubled as heavy infantry sometimes, but raiding Song demanded mounts.
"Horses and steel?"
"If your horses keep dying, don't you need more? Goryeo once fielded mighty heavy cavalry in the old Goguryeo days, so we bred plenty. Now we're raising them in Manchuria—more than enough to sell."
Selling you horses bred on what used to be your land, nomadic Jin. Peak teabagging. From Jin's view, it was just buying local stock from their old territory.
One catch, though: Did bankrupt Jin, shrunk to Henan and Shandong, have anything to buy with? Song couldn't even beat them, which was laughable.
Still, as long as Jin kept raiding to fill Mongol coffers, the Mongols wouldn't complain.
"Trading horses, eh."
"The question is whether Jin has anything of equal value."
The envoy pondered deeply at my words.
"What about Emperor Huizong of Song's paintings and calligraphy?"
There it was—the Song imperial treasures. Desperate enough to sell loot from the sacked Northern Song.
That was probably all they had left. Trading Jingkang Incident spoils with Goryeo. Limited supply, but the value was immense. Holding them kept Song in check—or we could leverage a huge deal.
"And?"
"I'll need to consult our emperor, but we have other valuables."
A fierce vow to secure Goryeo horses at any cost.
"Very well. We'll trade for Huizong's works first. Personally, I'd love Song imperial treasures—like their imperial seal."
"Urgh."
His face twisted at the end, but no choice. You're the desperate ones begging for our horses.
The gap between us was clear. What could you do? A dying empire had to extend its life somehow.
In the end, the Jin envoy couldn't outright refuse and returned home. If he'd rejected and left, fine—but he didn't. With their dire straits, he'd convince their emperor for some deal.
"Gyojung Byeolgam. Taking Song treasures makes sense, but the imperial seal?"
The emperor spoke from his symbolic throne.
"Jin looted all Northern Song treasures in the Jingkang Incident, including their seal. Southern Song's Gojong had to rush a new one, suffering legitimacy disputes. It might not matter now, but if we take it and hand it to Song..."
Planting a favor with Song.
"Why trade horses for the seal just to give it back to Song?"
Yi Gyubo asked why.
Getting Song treasures from Jin was good, but why return them?
This was knowing one side but not the other.
"Good question. Jin's a Jurchen dynasty—no true Central Plains legitimacy. Song, as the Han dynasty, holds that claim alone. What if we return their seal and make Song recognize our proclaiming the imperial era?"
"In other words, trade with Song under our new imperial calendar?"
Exactly. More precisely, force Song to see Goryeo not as barbarians, but equals.
Central Plains belonged to the Han; emperors came only from them. Currently, only Song's emperor qualified. His recognition meant something special—no more treating Goryeo like any barbarian state.
"Yes, Your Majesty. The Mongols, who crushed countless nations, can't scorn us. Jin watches our moves. Song relies on our weapons. We now qualify as an empire."
Mongols and Jin were no threat anyway. The envoy proved it—we could be rude, and they'd stay silent. No demands for submission. Jin lacked power to oppose us. With Mongols between, we didn't even share a border. Their envoy sailed here.
Song's nod alone elevated us to equals with China.
One shitty thing about 21st-century Korea: history. Past vassalage let China call us a province or tributary; Japanese right-wingers mocked us the same. Thanks to Joseon bootlickers bragging about realpolitik, though Goryeo had more autonomy via formal investiture.
I'd ensure no such insults for descendants. Japan might be last on our absorption list anyway.
Regardless, I'd shatter that history. No handing down a pathetic legacy.
In this world, posterity would proudly declare Goryeo stood as an equal to the Central Plains empire.
"Your Majesty need only accept glory from the throne. We'll handle the rest."
Of course, even the emperor truly proclaiming the imperial era rested in Choe hands.