The Burning Jinju Castle
"They're climbing up! Kick away the ladders!"
The wreckage of the collapsed siege tower made an excellent staircase for the enemy. Stepping over splintered wooden planks and their comrades' corpses, the Japanese soldiers swarmed up the walls like ants. In moments, the ramparts descended into pandemonium.
Tatata-tang!
From below the walls, thousands of matchlock gunners fired in unison. It wasn't the pop of roasting beans—it was a thunderous roar that tore the air apart. Lead balls rained down like a storm, battering the battlements. They embedded in stone cracks, punched through wooden pillars, and shattered the helmets of soldiers who couldn't dodge in time.
Ping! A shot struck my shoulder and ricocheted harmlessly away.
"Nice try."
I brushed the lead dust off my clothes.
"Heads down! Hide behind the shields!"
I swung Mi-suk-i, cleaving the head from a Japanese soldier who'd just vaulted onto the wall.
"General Kim Si-min! There are too many of them! We're running out of arrows!"
His adjutant cried out in desperation.
The relentless assault of 30,000 troops seemed endless. No matter how many we killed, they clambered over the corpses and came again. The base of the wall was already piling into a mound of bodies.
But General Kim Si-min remained calm. He drew his bloodied sword and climbed to the highest point on the gate tower.
"Fear not! We still have our prepared surprises!"
At his command, the artillerymen stepped forward. Hidden at spots along the wall, Joseon's firepower weapons revealed themselves.
"Hyeonja Chongtong! Fire!"
Kwaaaang!
The muzzle spat flame. A massive arrow—the cha-dae-jeon—streaked through the air with a fiery tail. It skewered the densely packed Japanese ranks like a spit roast, piercing three or four men at once and sending them tumbling.
"Bi-geuk Jin-cheon-rae! Throw them!"
Round iron balls with lit fuses rolled down from the wall. As the Japanese stared in confusion—
Kwagwang! Boom!
Shrapnel exploded outward, shredding their lower bodies to ribbons. Thanks to the high-performance black powder I'd brought—finely granulated for maximum effect—the blasts were incomparable to before. Iron fragments devastated everything in a 10-meter radius.
"Aaaagh! My legs! My legs!"
Screams filled the battlefield. But their momentum didn't break. From the rear, overseers drew their blades and bellowed, "Retreat and be cut down!"
"Good! Now it's our turn!"
I signaled the Yiho Army.
"Choi Ga! Bring the stuff we prepared! Time to serve these bastards a hot bowl of soup!"
"Yes sir!"
Choi Ga and the soldiers grunted as they hauled up massive cauldrons. Inside, a black sludge bubbled furiously. It was sewage scraped from every latrine in the castle, mixed with hearth ash, poisonous weeds, and rotten fish guts—the ultimate biochemical weapon. The stench alone could knock you out.
"Pour it!"
Shwaaa!
Scalding filth cascaded onto the heads of the Japanese scaling the walls.
"Gaaahhh!"
"Hot! My eyes! My eyes!"
The instant it touched skin, flesh cooked. In the eyes, it blinded. Burns were the least of it—poisoned sewage in wounds led straight to sepsis. They writhed in agony and stench, plummeting from the ladders.
"Works like a charm. But supplies are limited."
We'd already burned through much in prior fights. Sewage and powder were running low.
"Boss! We got nothin' left to pour!"
Choi Ga banged an empty cauldron.
"Then use that!"
I headed to a pile of roof tiles and stones in the corner. Civilians had torn off their roofs and dismantled walls to bring them.
"Aunties! Stand back! I'll throw 'em!"
I grabbed a bundle of tiles and hurled it like a discus.
Whoosh—thunk! Thunk!
Sharp edges shattered into deadly shards that embedded in faces and slipped through armor gaps.
"Stones too! The biggest ones!"
The Yiho troops lugged over remaining rocks and battlefield debris. I caught them and activated human trebuchet mode.
Kwajik!
A boulder flew straight, sweeping ladder-clingers like bowling pins. They tangled like Vienna sausages in freefall—a spectacular sight.
"One more!"
Thud!
This one crushed shield-bearers blocking the gate. Shields crumpled; men behind were crushed.
But the bastards were tenacious. Covered in shit, crushed under rocks, they didn't flinch—stepping over corpses to advance.
"For the daimyo! Charge!"
"Beyond that wall—food! Women!"
A Japanese officer whipped his sword, driving them on. Greed blinded them to death.
The east gate wall teetered on breach. They exploited our thin lines and crested the ramparts.
"Damn. Zombies, the lot of 'em."
I sheathed Mi-suk-i and drew the bow Go-kko-ri from my back.
"You. The one in the helmet."
I nocked and drew. Tension strained my shoulders. Close combat was fine, but now we needed to decapitate command and paralyze their heads.
Pfiuung!
The arrow sliced the air, piercing the officer's throat mid-command.
"Gack!"
He toppled from his horse; their momentum faltered.
"Now! Push!"
I bounded along the parapets, firing on the move. East, west—flashes of death. Pfiuung! Pfiuung! Every shot a kill. Flag-bearers, drummers, officers—any head worth taking.
"Monster! A monster on the walls!"
They pointed and screamed. Bulletproof, hurling house-sized rocks, sniping throats at a hundred paces. That terror rooted their feet.
"Last one! Squeeze it out!"
General Kim Si-min played his final card. Every dry straw bale in the castle was lit and hurled below.
Whoosh!
The wall base became a wall of fire. Japanese engulfed in flames screamed and retreated.
They finally turned tail.
"Fall back! Retreat!"
Horns blared; they ebbed like the tide.
Cheers erupted from the walls.
"We won! We held!"
"Long live General Kim Si-min! Long live Yiho General!"
I lowered my bow and slumped. Breath burned my throat.
"Hoo..."
"Boss! You okay?"
Choi Ga rushed up with a water ladle.
"Yeah. Fine. Just hungry."
I gulped water and surveyed. Devastation. Allied and enemy dead tangled on blood-slick stones, flowing like rivers to drains.
But it held. We defended.
General Kim Si-min approached in his gore-crusted armor.
"We owe you our lives. Without you and the Yiho Army, the east gate would've fallen today."
"No need. Your tactics were brilliant. The shit-water... pure genius."
We shared grim smiles. Battlefield camaraderie.
"But they're still strong. We just bloodied their nose today."
I peered outward. Into the dark, the 30,000 retreated. Their torches blanketed the night like stars. We'd killed maybe 1,000–2,000. Main force intact.
"Tomorrow, they'll hit harder. Battering rams, or worse. They'll target the gate."
"I know. We'll prepare thoroughly. No sleep tonight."
Then Mi-ryeong climbed up, basket of bandages and herbs in hand. Her white clothes bloodstained.
"Uncle! You hurt?"
She checked my arm, frowning at the swollen bruise.
"I'm good. Check the others. Lots wounded."
"Got it. But Uncle..."
She hesitated.
"Na Dae-yong's looking for you. At the north gate barbican."
"Na Dae-yong hyung? Why?"
"Said he's prepping something... terrifying. For tomorrow morning."
I nodded. That genius never idled.
"Right. On my way."
I bowed to General Kim Si-min and headed north.
Inside the north gate barbican stood four Black Turtles, lined up. Battle-scarred paint peeled and soot-blackened, but still imposing.
Na Dae-yong tinkered behind Turtle No. 1. Giant leather bellows, long iron tubes, barrels of black liquid. Oil stench hung heavy.
"Hyung. You called?"
"Ah, there you are."
He removed his goggles, face grease-smeared but eyes gleaming.
"Good work up there. Saw the shit-pouring. Spectacular."
"You too. What's all this?"
He grinned, stroking an iron tube.
"Tomorrow, full assault. Burned at the walls, so now the gate."
"Figures."
"So. Time for a fiery welcome."
He aimed the tube's nozzle at the gate.
"What's that?"
"Flamethrower."
"......Come again?"
This era?
"Adapted water squirter principle. Refined fierce oil in these barrels, two men pump the bellows for high pressure, spray it out."
He spread his hands proudly.
"Not just oil—mixed with charcoal dust and sulfur. Ignite at the nozzle, and sticky fireballs shoot thirty paces."
Not poured—pressurized spray. Primitive, like Song Dynasty's fierce oil squirter.
"When they funnel into the narrow barbican...?"
Roast. Well-done Japanese barbecue.
Killer thought.
"You're insane. Genius... or devil."
"In war, be the devil to survive."
Na Dae-yong's eyes chilled.
"Perfect. Tomorrow morning, when they pound the gate—we'll greet 'em hot."
I patted a Black Turtle. Beneath cold steel slumbered fiery hell.
Jinju Castle's night deepened.
Tomorrow would burn hotter.