The Dang Family Never Forgets Gratitude or Grudge
The Chagatai host reined to a halt exactly five hundred paces short of the ground where the first trench line had been dug.
"They've spotted us."
Adiya Khan clicked his tongue at the sight of a red signal flare rocketing skyward from somewhere along the cliff face.
"There shouldn't have been any watch posts this far out…"
"My Khan, give them no time to ready their main camp—strike at once."
One of the noyons urged the charge, but Adiya Khan only shook his head.
"I would like nothing better. Yet look—there, right in front of us, those silver thorn-vines. So the Oirat dogs were not lying after all. In that case we need not repeat their mistake, do we?"
The annihilation of a full thousand Oirat horsemen who had charged without preparation still left a bitter aftertaste.
When the Great Khan thus counseled caution, the very noyon who had pressed for an immediate assault—Baikan Khan—flushed dark and thumped his own chest.
"How can the Great Khan cite the failure of that weakling Urgün as an example? Entrust the vanguard to me. I will order my noyans and we will smash those cheap little tricks in a single blow."
"Hmm."
Adiya considered. As commander of a great army he had indeed thought carefully, yet taking a defeated general's words at face value also sat poorly with him. Losers always inflated the enemy's strength; that was the way of things.
So he nodded.
"Very well, Noyon Baikan. Show me the strength of your ulus."
"Yes, Great Khan!"
Baikan rode back to his own banners in high spirits and summoned his noyons and noyans with a roar.
"The Great Khan has granted our ulus the glory of the vanguard! Who among you will be first to trample the enemy's soft ranks beneath your hooves?"
A young officer stepped forward at once.
"Khan, entrust that honor to me!"
"And who are you?"
"This humble one is Noyan Kharagchi, under Noyon Tsagaan."
"Kharagchi—do you have the confidence?"
Noyon Tsagaan spoke up in support.
"My Khan, though young, Kharagchi's valor is outstanding and his horsemanship ranks among the best. He is more than capable of leading the tip of the spear."
"Granted!"
With Baikan Khan's leave, Kharagchi scraped together roughly five hundred of his own tribesmen and formed them into an arrowhead formation before thundering forward.
Clad head to hoof in the iron armor they had purchased, they were no swarming light horse of the usual nomad sort; they rode like the cataphracts of old Goguryeo or the heavy cavalry of Europe. Though not couching true lances, they leveled long horse-spears and charged, and at their head Kharagchi himself looked as magnificent as Zhang Fei of the Three Kingdoms stepping out of legend.
"I am Kharagchi, honorable noyan of the Naiman!"
Bellowing his tribe's name, the young warrior galloped without a shred of fear straight toward the bristling wall of horse-stopping stakes.
Watching from the cliff of Green Mountain, Jo Deok calmly raised one hand.
"Hold fire. Wait until they reach the first barrier line—then shoot."
Kharagchi only snorted as the stakes loomed larger.
"These toys? Oooooh! Great Tengri, protect me!"
He called upon the prairie martial art known as Dykhaniye—the Breath. Power flooded into his spear until the shaft quivered. At the precise instant he thrust with all his might at the nearest stake, Jo Deok's hand swept sharply downward.
"Fire!!"
"Baoshan Fortress has fallen."
Ye-eun's urgent report froze Dang Hui-yeom's expression.
"When?"
"Three days ago."
"Casualties?"
"Green Mountain Outpost Number One wrecked the approach road and was the first to engage; they appear to have expended every last grain of powder. Their heroic stand inflicted heavy losses on the enemy vanguard—roughly twelve hundred horsemen were stopped at the first outpost alone—yet it was eventually overrun. In that interval the people of Baoshan evacuated toward Yeo River. The local garrison of Baoshan fought desperately to buy time for the civilians, but the fortress fell in less than a day. The most recent intelligence has the enemy now locked in combat with Green Mountain Outposts Four and Five."
The moment they had dreaded had arrived at last.
They had prepared as though it were a certainty, yet facing the genuine outbreak of war was another matter entirely.
Hui-yeom steadied himself and asked calmly,
"The staff of Outpost One?"
"We have no internal reports, so certainty is impossible… but judging by the enemy's rate of advance, they seem to have skipped mopping up around Baoshan and ridden straight for Yeo River. The men of Outpost One may merely be cut off rather than lost…"
"An optimistic reading—yet I hope you're right."
"…"
"And the Provincial Commander?"
"He is currently concentrating forces at Yeo River and Dali, preparing to intercept."
"Even after all our prior warnings… peace really has lasted too long."
Hui-yeom clicked his tongue.
The Yunnan Provincial Commander was neither corrupt nor incompetent, yet neither was he a battle-hardened veteran. For a general who had risen purely by seniority without ever tasting war, his response was still not the worst imaginable.
"Outpost Two?"
"Regrettably…"
"Annihilated, then."
Unlike Outpost One, which had occupied a nearly inaccessible cliff, Number Two had been a hilltop fortress. They had fired every last rocket arrow in a desperate defense, but against a mounted host on open ground annihilation had been inevitable.
"Yet their stand bought us precious time. Between the triple trenches and the rocket barrage they inflicted more than three thousand casualties. From the assault on Outpost Three onward the enemy abandoned frontal charges against the coiled wire and instead crept up under cover of night with iron axes and shears to cut their way through. That delay gave the rear lines time to prepare."
"…"
Hui-yeom closed his eyes.
The Gatling guns he had built, then left buried in the Dang family vaults for fear of imperial scrutiny, kept flickering before his mind's eye.
Was I arrogant? Did I tell myself that watching the Emperor's face was merely an excuse, when in truth I believed this much would be enough?
He forced the thought down. War was war. Even in games one could not avoid losses; to expect a real campaign without blood was the thinking of a fool.
"I ought to go myself—yet of course I cannot."
"That is…"
Ye-eun wore a rare look of distress; Hui-yeom managed a bitter smile.
"I know. If the command tower leaves its post, the other defensive lines will lose coordination. We can only trust how thoroughly they have drilled our standing orders."
"…"
"And in truth, we are not without cards left to play."
"My lord?"
"Summon Wang Yangming."
In original history the man had crushed multiple rebellions and introduced the Portuguese culverin into an already excellent military system. With Wang Yangming, the plan Hui-yeom had in mind could be entrusted.
A short while later Wang Yangming, answering Ye-eun's summons, bowed before Hui-yeom.
"You called for me, Young Master."
"Director Wang, I have been reading your research reports with great interest. Abrupt as it is, I wish to put those results into the field at once. Are you confident?"
Since entering Dang employ, Wang Yangming had served as chief researcher in the Innovation Hall. His fields were military science, ballistics, and artillery doctrine. Given his historical achievements, Hui-yeom had judged the work would suit him; the scholar who had once protested "I am only an academician" had soon discovered a true vocation and was now happily co-authoring papers with Dang Un-hwa.
At Hui-yeom's words Wang Yangming's eyes lit.
"When insolent barbarians dare violate the soil of Great Gyeong, what kind of man would sit idle? If you will send this humble servant, I shall make the might of the Dang family resound throughout the world."
"I grant you full authority. Take two thousand flintlock muskets and proceed to Yeo River. There you will assist the Provincial Commander and stop the Chagatai host."
Hui-yeom drew from his robe a jade token engraved with the characters Green Mountain Commander and held it out.
"Use the command authority of the Green Mountain outposts. It will be of great help."
"Your will be done!"
Wang Yangming answered as though receiving a battle-axe from an emperor, accepted the token, and withdrew.
Hui-yeom turned to Baek Beon, who stood nearby.
"…Matters have come to this. Surely His Majesty in Beijing must be informed?"
"Even if I say nothing, the Privy Council and my colleagues in the Eastern Depot will already be scrambling."
"…"
"Young Hero Dang."
Baek Beon regarded him with an uncharacteristically solemn face.
"Does Great Gyeong live in your heart? Do you hold true loyalty toward His Majesty?"
"What sort of…"
Is that even a question? Hui-yeom looked startled. Who, asked so directly, would answer no?
Yet Baek Beon was in earnest.
"Answer me honestly. Is everything you accomplish done solely for Great Gyeong? Will the weapons you have forged and the troops you have trained never be turned against His Majesty's back?"
Faced with such unblinking seriousness, Hui-yeom actually paused to think. The answer came at once.
"Everything I accomplish is not solely for Great Gyeong. In the small, it is for the Dang family; in the large, for all the people under Heaven."
To change how people lived, to change the world—that had been his only purpose even in his previous life. Critics had called him a hypocrite, a merchant of death who sold munitions while preaching peace, yet he had always believed that overwhelming force created peace, and so he had never felt ashamed.
"For all under Heaven… for every living soul… is that it?"
Baek Beon murmured the words; a faint grimace touched his features.
"Not for Great Gyeong and His Majesty, but for the myriad people—that could also be heard as saying you would overturn the realm itself if it served those people."
So it had been in the Three Kingdoms of the old Later Han; so it had been throughout the history of the Central Plains. Every warlord had risen claiming he would set the country right, and the age of contending heroes had followed.
Hui-yeom studied Baek Beon's face and quickly added,
"To speak of the myriad people under Heaven is simply to wish for an age of peace and prosperity—which Sichuan has already achieved to a fair degree. The moment I harbored treasonous thoughts toward His Majesty, all of this would vanish like a midsummer night's dream. How then could I ever nurse disloyalty?"
"In other words, not out of loyalty to the throne, but for the rational reasons of the Dang family's peace and Sichuan's prosperity—you will not betray His Majesty."
"How you interpret my words and what you report is your freedom, Lord Baek. I have merely spoken the unvarnished truth because you asked me to be honest."
Baek Beon glanced at the bracelet on his own wrist, then heaved a long, incredulous sigh.
"…The truth, he says."
"I have no idea why you're asking this now, but I am rather busy—"
"I suspect you have weapons still hidden away."
Hui-yeom, already turning to leave, froze mid-step. Baek Beon smiled thinly.
"I intend to depart for Beijing for a time to discuss the horrors of the battlefield. Surely the elite troops of Sichuan and Yunnan will have ample time to drive off the barbarian horde?"
"…Lord Baek, you—"
"Tut-tut."
Baek Beon's trademark frivolous laugh cut him off.
"Saying any more would only make it childish. Yohohohoho!!"
"…"
Faced with Baek Beon's promise of tacit approval and temporary absence so as not to interfere, Hui-yeom could only manage a small answering smile.
"…Thank you."
Baek Beon withdrew. Alone, Hui-yeom sat for a moment with closed eyes. In his mind the preparations already made and the events yet to unfold arranged themselves in clear order.
The Green Mountain outposts have done their duty and more. The grand design against the enemy remains intact.
The Provincial Commander is not brilliant, yet neither is he a fool. With Wang Yangming and two thousand flintlocks at his side he can hold according to the plan.
There will be losses, of course—many will die or be maimed. But with the imperial house and the Eight Great Families watching us so closely, revealing our hidden strength would be the worst possible move.
And yet… for what did I make these things? For what did I develop these weapons?
The answer had been fixed long ago—long before he was born into this world, back in his previous life.
Having finished his thoughts, Hui-yeom went straight to Dang Un-sang.
"Father, I have a matter to discuss."
"Do not discuss—simply carry it out."
As always when rubber-stamping the mountain of documents that needed signatures, Dang Un-sang granted permission without even listening. Hui-yeom, exasperated, was about to protest when his father turned and he caught sight of the older man's eyes. The pupils burned with the green fire of the Green Dragon Divine Art, dragon eyes ablaze with inner power.
"The Dang Family never forgets gratitude or grudge."
"…"
"Green Mountain came under the protection of the Dang Family as an ally. There have been casualties among them."
Dang Un-sang was staring at the casualty list from Outpost Two.
"The Family Head cannot abandon the defense of Sichuan and the main estate to leave this place empty. The same holds for the Flame Net Corps, the Black Pearl Corps, and the Centipede Corps that must guard the home ground. However…"
He named the three great martial arms of the family, then continued,
"The Poison Toad Corps and the Cutting Wind Corps may move."
"Father."
"Go. Aid our allies of Yunnan and Green Mountain, and let the awe of the Dang Family resound to the ends of the earth."
"But if I leave Sichuan, the role of command tower—"
"Business and planning are your work; battle is mine."
A faint smile softened the stern lines of Dang Un-sang's face.
"Trust this father of yours. My business record may be pitiful, but my military talent is not entirely dull."
"…"
Hui-yeom bowed his head for a moment, then raised it and performed the martial salute toward Dang Un-sang.
"This son, Young Master Dang Hui-yeom of the Sichuan Dang Family, receives the Family Head's command. I shall go and show those foolish barbarians who dared lay hands upon our allies just how terrifying the Dang Family can be."