The Great Victory at Hansando
BOOM!BOOM!
The sea turned upside down. If the heavens and earth split open, would it sound like this?
Wakizaka's fleet, having squeezed through the narrow channel at Geunnae-ryang, crawled of its own accord into the massive maw of the waters off Hansando. And the moment those jaws snapped shut, hell unfolded.
"Fire! Sink those bastards!"
It felt like Admiral Yi Sun-sin's voice carried all the way here.
The Crane Wing Formation spread out in a vast fan shape. The panokseon battleships at the tips of those enormous wings unleashed their broadsides in unison.
Cheonja chongtong, jija chongtong, hyeonja chongtong. Hundreds of cannonballs arced through the air in fiery trails, raining down on the Japanese ships.
Crack!Snap!
The wooden Japanese vessels crumpled like paper boats. Masts snapped and crushed soldiers beneath them; hulls split in two at the waist. In moments, the sea was shrouded in flames and black smoke.
But the real stars were elsewhere.
"Look! Look at that!"
Na Dae-yong grabbed my shoulder and yelled, his eyes gleaming with madness.
Two monsters pierced the smoke, slicing straight through the heart of the enemy fleet.
They rammed the Japanese ships' sides like enraged rhinos.
Thud!
The ironclad dragon heads of the turtle ships shattered the enemy hulls. Japanese troops fired matchlocks and loosed arrows, but the black iron plating on the turtle ships' decks mocked every assault, sending them pinging harmlessly away.
"Bro, your designs are flying out there!"
"That's right! Check that turning radius! Lowered center of gravity means it can whip around without tipping! And that firing arc—blasting in every direction without a hitch!"
The turtle ships didn't stop. Red flames and choking smoke belched from the dragon mouths—sulfur fumes.
"Cough! Cough! I can't see!" "Demons! A dragon's risen from the sea!"
The Japanese soldiers panicked, milling about before leaping into the water. But the sea was already slick with burning oil and debris.
Some tried climbing onto the turtle ships' backs for safety, only to meet the iron spikes studded thickly across the decks.
Stab! "Argh!"
Palms pierced, soles shredded, they screamed and plummeted back into the waves. Perfect killing machines.
"Whoa... it's like a damn movie."
I lowered my telescope. Overwhelming. This wasn't a battle—it was a one-sided judgment. Nothing for us to do out on the water. Popcorn and a front-row seat would've been perfect.
Even Wakizaka Yasuharu's flagship thrashed in confusion, trying to swing about, but it was too late. Concentrated fire from the panokseon hammered it.
"Time to get ready."
I drew my ebony club and Misuk-i from my belt.
"Ready?"
Choi Ga swallowed hard.
I pointed to the sea. Japanese survivors from the sunken ships clutched at planks and barrels, swimming desperately. Like swarming ants, all heading one way: straight for this beach where we lay in ambush.
"Can't just let the ones crawling ashore to survive go free."
I grinned coldly at them.
"They tasted fire at sea. Time for a taste of the club on land."
"Ah!"
Choi Ga smirked wickedly, adjusting his sickle. The Yiho Army lads' eyes sparkled.
"Everyone, fan out! Hide behind rocks and strike when they hit the shore and think they're safe!"
"Got it!"
The hundred Yiho troops scattered into rock crevices and woods along the coast.
I hunkered behind the best vantage rock, waiting. Mixed with the waves came ragged breaths and screams, drawing nearer.
"Huff... huff..." "Tasukete... (Help me...)"
One staggered onto the sand like a drowned rat. Helmet gone, armor waterlogged and heavy as lead. He didn't even notice his empty scabbard, twisting back constantly.
He flopped spread-eagled on the sand, gasping at the sky.
"Ikita... taskatta... (I'm alive... I made it...)"
Relief from surviving that hellish sea. Hope that he'd live.
Sorry, but crushing that hope is my hobby.
I stepped out slow from behind the rock. My massive shadow fell over his head.
"Welcome. First time on land?"
"...?!"
His eyes flew wide. But no savior filled his sight—just a 190cm Joseon giant in red-trimmed robes, black club in hand. Backlit, my face must've looked like the reaper's.
"Wh-who are you!"
He fumbled at his waist, but his sword was long sunk.
"Who? The local shopkeep."
I shoved Misuk-i in his face. The red-carved "Misukga Dan" burned into his pupils.
"Customer. Admission here's..."
"Eek!"
Thwack! "...your life."
Before he could scream, Misuk-i caved his forehead. A dull thud, head snapped back. Instant death.
The start.
"Charge! Don't let a single one escape!"
With my roar, the hidden Yiho troops swarmed the beach.
"Waaah!" "Kill 'em! Japs!"
The shore turned to pandemonium in seconds. The Japanese who'd barely dragged themselves from the sea had no weapons, no strength—just trembling meat.
"Tasukete kure! Kousunda! Kousun suru! (H-help! Surrender! I surrender!)"
One dropped to his knees, begging. But Choi Ga showed no mercy.
"What's that yapping? You're in Joseon—speak Joseon!"
Stab!
His sickle cleaved the man's shoulder. He crumpled without a cry.
"Captain! More over here!"
Chun-sik found some huddled in rock gaps. Five or six, shivering together.
"Finish 'em."
I approached swinging Misuk-i.
Whoosh—thud! Crack!
Twisting my hips for centrifugal force. Heads burst like watermelons. The ebony drank the blood, gleaming blacker, like a living thing sucking it in.
"Gaaah! Oni! Oni da! (Demons! Demons!)"
Latecomers saw the carnage and freaked, fleeing back to sea.
"Where you going? Easy come, not so easy go."
I unslung my bow, Goppili, from my back.
Drew the string. Tension bit my fingers.
Fleeing backs are the easiest targets.
Twang!
The arrow sliced air, pierced waves, nailed a fleeing soldier's skull.
"Glurk..."
He sank. Red bloomed in the foam.
"Nice shot."
I loosed more. Twang! Twang! Twang!
Hundred percent hits. Blood spread across the water. No sharks here—my arrows hunted them. Goppili earned its keep, striking true wherever I aimed, wherever my killing intent pointed.
"No mercy."
I muttered. These were the ones who'd killed General Jeongbal at Busanjin, Song Sang-hyeon at Dongnae Castle, massacred civilians. Just paying them back in kind.
An hour later, no twitching Japanese left on the beach. Sand soaked red, waves washing corpses ashore.
"Situation clear!"
Choi Ga wiped his bloody sickle, reporting.
"Got every last one—no runners! Including the drowned, over a hundred!"
"Good work. Loot the bodies for anything useful."
I sheathed Misuk-i and gazed seaward. Black smoke still rose from Hansando's waters.
Of Wakizaka's 73 ships, 59 sunk or captured. Joseon navy victory. The Great Victory at Hansando.
And we mopped up the ragged end on land.
"Exhilarating! Truly exhilarating!"
Na Dae-yong approached, eyes bloodshot. Tears of joy, probably.
"Our turtle ships... my babies did it! Tore those Jap ships like paper! Moved exactly as I designed!"
"Congrats, bro. Your efforts saved Joseon."
"No. Without your iron, impossible. Without you holding Honam, the navy would've starved. This is our win!"
He gripped my hand tight. Hot camaraderie.
"Alright, let's head back. Brag to Seo the merchant, grab some grub."
"Yes! On a day like this, drown in booze without regrets!"
We gathered spoils—armor, damp but salvageable matchlocks, silver from their pouches. Seo Baek-seol would grin ear to ear.
On the way back, I glanced at the sea once more.
A full moon rose over the blue waters. Bright night at Hansando.
Admiral Yi Sun-sin must be gazing at it somewhere, maybe reciting poetry.
On a bright night at Hansando, sitting alone in the watchtower...
I sent a silent reply.
Admiral. Don't carry that heavy sword and deep worries. Land's cleaned spotless by this Kim Deok-ryeong. Sleep sound tonight.
My steps felt light.