Chapter 49: The Night of the Yaksha
Darkness had fallen over Jinju Castle. Outside the walls, the air vibrated with the stench of rotting corpses and acrid smoke. But inside, the mood wasn't so bad. Despite the countless casualties, we'd held off a relentless assault from 30,000 troops for two full days. And we'd done it with an overwhelming kill ratio, burning the bastards alive.
"Governor, please get some rest. You've been up for days straight."
His adjutant pleaded earnestly, but General Kim Si-min shook his head.
"No. Who knows when those bastards will come crawling back up. I need to see it with my own eyes to put my mind at ease."
He patrolled the north gate walls, lined with corpses, accompanied only by a few guards holding torches. His armor was caked in blood and dirt, but the look in his eyes as he gazed at the soldiers was warm.
"You've all done well. Just hold on a little longer."
"How's your wound? Make sure to eat a hearty meal tomorrow."
He clapped each soldier on the shoulder personally. That was Kim Si-min's leadership as a commander—not through authority or barked orders, but through devotion and leading by example.
I watched from a distance, wiping down Mi-suk. What an incredible man.
The 'Loyal Martyr Kim Si-min' from the history books. There was a reason he'd earned the same posthumous title as Admiral Yi Sun-sin. With a leader like that, even charging into the pits of hell would feel right.
That was when it happened.
At the base of the wall, what I'd thought was just a pile of corpses—a black shadow—twitched.
My instincts screamed a warning. Killing intent. Sharp and sticky malice that no dead man could emit.
"General!"
I shouted and kicked off the ground. But even if nothing was faster than light, something outpaced sound.
Bang!
A spark flashed from the darkness. The musket shot tore through the quiet night air.
Just as my hand was about to reach him. General Kim Si-min's head snapped back.
"......!!"
Time seemed to freeze. His helmet flew off, and crimson blood sprayed into the air. His body crumpled to the ground like a puppet with cut strings.
"Governor!!"
The adjutant and guards screamed as they rushed forward. I froze in place.
Careless. In the end... I couldn't stop it. Even with gunpowder, tanks, future knowledge...
From somewhere below the wall, I could almost hear the Japanese sniper cackling after his deed.
"Ugh..."
A faint groan escaped the fallen general.
"Doctor! Call the doctor! Hurry!"
The wall top turned into pandemonium in an instant. A commander shot—that was a terror worse than death for the soldiers.
"The general's down!"
"We're all dead now!"
Despair spread like a plague.
"Make way."
The soldiers parted as I approached. I checked the general's pulse. It was irregular and faint. A hole right in the center of his forehead. Even modern medicine couldn't guarantee survival from that.
"Mi-ryeong!"
"Yes, Uncle!"
Mi-ryeong came running with her medical kit. She trembled at the sight of his gruesome state but quickly steeled her gaze. It was too much for a 15-year-old girl, but right now, she was the head medic.
"We need to stop the bleeding first! The brain... it might be damaged."
Her hands shook as she wrapped the bandage. The blood wouldn't stop.
"We have to move him to the inner quarters now! The cold wind here will make it worse! Choi Ga oppa! Stretcher!"
The Yi-ho troops hoisted the general and ran. I picked up his fallen helmet. A deep bullet dent. Lead shot embedded, crumpling the metal.
Cowardly bastards. Can't win head-on, so they hide in the dark and snipe?
In a way, I had no right to say that. I'd gotten this far without scruple either. But you invaders? No.
Blood surged hot in my veins. If reverse blood flow were real, it'd probably burn me up with fever. No—my blood felt ice-cold instead. My mind went blank white, then filled with azure rage.
Reason numbed. Instincts rampaged.
I climbed onto the wall parapet.
"Everyone, look up!"
My roar made the weeping soldiers turn. Backlit by moonlight, my face must have twisted like a yaksha's.
"The general's not dead. He's just taking a nap. Got it?!"
"B-but... he's lost so much blood..."
"Don't talk shit! If I say he won't die, he won't!"
I drew Mi-suk. Its heavy grip dug into my palm.
"Who the hell do you touch? Manners must've gone down with your rice."
I glared into the pitch-black darkness below the wall.
"I'm going to collect a get-well gift from those bastards. A really expensive one."
"Na Dae-yong hyung. Choi Ga."
"Yes, boss."
Na Dae-yong and Choi Ga looked at me with fear in their eyes.
"Lock the gates tight. Don't let a single rat in. Hold till I get back."
"Alone? Are you insane? That's enemy territory out there!"
Choi Ga grabbed my arm.
"Insane? Yeah, I am. They made me this way."
I shook off his hand.
"Tonight, those bastards sleep forever."
I leaped straight into the black abyss below the wall.
Whoosh—
Over ten meters. Wind battered my ears. A normal man would've shattered his legs, but I bent my knees and absorbed the impact.
Thud!
Dust billowed on landing. Outside was eerily quiet. Distant crickets and enemy camp torches twinkling like fireflies.
I smell it.
Gunpowder. And their fishy killing intent. The snipers hadn't gone far.
I walked toward the woods. No sneaking. Crunch crunch. I deliberately stepped on leaves, making noise.
I'm right here. Shoot, you fucks.
Rustle. Thirty paces ahead in the woods. Presence detected.
"Kita! (He's here!)"
"Bakayaro! Walking to his death!"
"Shoot the giant!!"
Sparks flew from the dark.
Tatata! Bang! Bang! Bang!
Not three shots. Ten shadows rose. Thirteen muzzles spat fire at once. Acrid smoke filled the woods.
I didn't dodge. Raised an arm to shield my face.
Ting! Ping! Patter! Thunk! Crack!
Bullets hammered my forearms and chest relentlessly. The red padded armor Seo Baek-seol made shredded like rags.
Dozens of shots at close range. Overlapping impacts turned sharp ricochets into dull thuds. Like a brutal full-body massage.
"Nngh..."
Stinging pain building. Embedded lead fought to burrow into muscle. But they couldn't pierce.
My muscles were tougher than steel. Geumgang Bulgoe skin pushed out the lead one by one.
Plink, plop. Bloodied lead lumps hit the ground.
"That all you got?"
I glared through the smoke.
"Ba, bakemono...! (Mo, monster...!)"
Terror flipped their eyes.
"Positions confirmed."
I kicked the ground.
Boom!
Closed the gap instantly. No time for reloads. Drew Mi-suk. Black club etched with 'Mi-suk Ga-dan' flashed in their eyes.
"Off to hell with you."
"Hiiik!"
They drew daggers to resist, but Mi-suk was faster.
Splat! One's head vanished between shoulders. Helmet crumpled crisply.
"One."
I spun, smashing the next's side.
Crack! Ribs shattered; he slammed into a tree.
"Two."
The rest screamed and fled. My hands were quicker. Grabbed two by the napes.
"Running's useless."
"S-spare..."
Crunch! Smashed their heads together. Watermelon burst; they slumped.
"Four."
Grabbed fallen spears, hurled like javelins.
Whish—thunk! Pierced one's back, skewered the next. Kebab.
"Six."
The remaining seven collapsed, legs limp in terror. I approached slowly. Blood-soaked giant, club in hand, chest bleeding—a walking nightmare.
"Don't even beg Yama in hell."
Splat! Thud! Crunch! No mercy. The 13-man sniper squad vanished without trace. Forest floor slick with gore.
I tossed their bodies out of the woods. But this was just the start. This blood wouldn't quench my rage.
My target: their main camp behind. Where 30,000 swarmed. Where Commander Ukita Hideie waited.
I exited the woods onto the plain. Sentries spotted me, yelled.
"One man! The giant!"
Drums boomed. Thousands of torches surged my way. A black wave crashing.
Normal? I'd run. Diving into 30,000 was suicide. But now? Not an army. Just firewood waiting to burn.
I slung Mi-suk over my shoulder and walked. No running. Just strode silently.
Whistle! Whistle! Arrows flew. I swatted them irritably.
"Kill him! Fire!"
Dozens of muskets barked. I ducked my head and charged. Bullets rained, but dodge vitals and endure the sting.
"Raaargh!"
I roared into their shield wall.
Kaboom! Shields splintered; soldiers flew. Formation collapsed instantly.
"Hold! Spear him!"
Spearmen swarmed like bees. Dozens of tips thrust at me.
I didn't stop. Spotted a weapon on the ground. Odachi. Five-cheok greatsword.
Yanked it from a corpse. Heavy weight settled in my right hand.
"This'll do."
Left: bludgeon. Right: longsword. Perfect combo.
"Huuu..."
Thump. Enemies encircled.
Thump. Hundreds of blades gleamed.
Thump. Breath held.
Weeeeng!!! Tinnitus rang. World turned monochrome. Time stretched like taffy. Distorted enemy faces, flying dust, sweat dripping from spear tips—all in frames.
Their moves read like a book. Left thrust, right slash.
I twisted—slowly, surely.
Pop! Silence shattered. Body blurred with afterimages. Untrackable speed.
Right odachi flashed silver arc.
Slice. Sound lagged. Five spearmen's waists severed simultaneously. Torsos slid; arterial sprays fountained.
Drip drip. Eerie quiet, drops hitting ground audible.
"......?!"
I danced through ranks.
Slice! Splat! Odachi arced—shafts and waists cleaved. Blood traced parabolas.
Mi-suk smashed down—helmets crumpled, skulls caved.
Slash, smash. Slash, smash. Monotonous rhythm, horrific results. Red circle around me. All within became minced meat rolling on ground.
"Aaaagh!"
"My arm! My arm!"
Screams drowned the field, but I heard none.
"Kuhuhuhu..."
Only bones snapping, flesh tearing in my ears.
"Mo-monster!"
"Blades won't cut! Run!"
Japanese recoiled in horror. 30,000 pushed back by one. Darkness hid my numbers, but overwhelming fear blinded them.
I wasn't wielding a weapon. I was the calamity.
Squelch squelch. Blood-soaked pants and boots sloshed like rain.
I pushed deeper. Along the crimson path to the gaudiest tent.
Ukita Hideie's HQ.
"Block him! Protect the daimyo!"
Elite guards stood resolute. Skilled ones.
"Move."
Grabbed a fallen trident, hurled—impaled one. Caught a charging blade barehanded.
Snap! Broke it, jammed the shard in his throat.
Then. 3 o'clock right. A plain tent quivered faintly.
Senses peaked. Not wind or screams—the faint clink of a powder pan opening.
There.
Too late to turn. Stance broken mid-swing.
Kaboom! Tent ripped; massive fireball erupted. Deafening roar, fist-sized shot flew.
Man-portable cannon: Oo-zutsu.
They'd ambushed during my distraction, point-blank shot.
No dodging.
Thud! Impact crushed chest. Like a sledgehammer to the heart—breath seized, body hurled back.
"Guh...!"
One knee hit ground. Looked down. Red armor torn; Geumgang Bulgoe skin split, huge shot embedded. Blood streamed down my belly.
It hurt. Burning flesh smell.
Tent parted; burly gunners emerged. Barrels three-four times thicker, longer than muskets. Oo-zutsu squad.
"Hahaha! Hit! The monster bleeds!"
"Kill him! Now!"
They cheered, swarming like sharks on blood.
I wiped flowing blood on finger. Bright red.
Lips curled.
"Yeah... that's more like it."
Pain cleared my head. Inner beast fully awake.
Stood slowly. Ignored the chest shot.
"Thanks. Woke me right up."
Charging foes faltered. My eyes had changed. From angry man to hellspawn demon. Blood-drenched, hole in chest, grinning monster.
"You ain't going home tonight."
Gripped odachi firm. Kicked ground.
Boom!
Faster than before. Injury forgotten. Pain just fuel for rage.
"Raaargh!!"
Leaped into oo-zutsu squad center.
Slice! Splash! Odachi danced anew. Barrels bisected; wielders halved.
Splat! Mi-suk pulped skulls. Blood misted.
My body slick with enemy and my blood. Blood Ghost. Living crimson calamity.
"Hiiik...!"
"Mercy! Mercy!"
Oo-zutsu squad annihilated. Prized firepower useless against yaksha madness.
I didn't stop. Deeper into camp. To the gaudiest tent.
Commander Ukita Hideie. Where he waited.
Each footprint stamped red. None could stop me. None dared meet my eyes.
This night, I wasn't Jinju's guardian deity.
I was heaven's wrath upon the Japanese.