Chapter 114
Chapter 114
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 114
Chapter Title: Clash of the Mounted Flails
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‘Wow! This is scary.’
Of course, if things got dire, Jumong’s spearhead would protect me, but fighting at such breakneck speed was a first. I gripped the reins tight, eyes wide open. In an instant, the distance between us closed. And right as we were about to collide, Yang Manchun’s voice rang out.
“Strike down!”
Dull thuds echoed from all sides, mingling with the screams of men and horses. I saw a Silla soldier take a swing from Yang Manchun’s mounted flail to the face, arms flailing up as he tumbled off the back of his horse. Other Silla cavalrymen screamed as they were struck by the sweeping flails, collapsing one after another.
“Ugh!”
“Aaaagh!”
A Silla cavalryman tumbled from his horse right beside me, blood streaming from his face. The skirmish ended in a flash. The Silla riders charging head-on were mostly knocked from their saddles by the flails. I’d had some expectations, but not like this. They must have trusted their helmets and armor to carry them through. But even if the iron weights of the flails didn’t pierce, the impact transferred fully. The twenty Silla cavalrymen lost their fighting strength after the first clash—tumbled from horses or dropping their weapons. Meanwhile, Yang Manchun’s men had only a couple missing.
Yang Manchun wheeled his horse around and brought his flail down on a nearby Silla rider.
“Take this!”
The man, struck in the shoulder, let out a whimpering scream as he rolled under the horse. His collarbone was probably shattered. Catching his breath, Yang Manchun shouted,
“Grab the wounded and let’s go! Hurry!”
Yang Manchun and his men scooped up the subordinates who’d fallen from their horses during the Silla attack and picked up speed. I followed frantically. Geom Mojam, sword drawn at my side, muttered,
“Terrifying.”
“Looked fine to you?”
“If skills are even, weapons don’t matter much. But the mounted flail’s effective enough if you can swing it one-handed from horseback.”
“Good to hear.”
“Though if they’d had spears, it might’ve been different. Spears have the reach.”
“True.”
We rode into General Sobuson’s camp, finally catching our breath alongside Yang Manchun. I told Geom Mojam to fetch horses right away for our departure, then headed to General Sobuson’s tent. The general, mid-conversation with his men, grimaced at the blood-soaked Yang Manchun.
“The enemy showed up?”
“Seems there was a secret gate by the coast. Twenty cavalry burst out to block us. The Grand General’s safe.”
Friends or not, General Sobuson always used formal speech with me as his superior. He came straight to me after the report.
“That was close. Grand General.”
“Thanks to my friend here, I made it safe. What’s the situation?”
“We arrived at dawn, but they caught on and withdrew inside. Defenders look to be about a thousand to two thousand.”
“Too risky to attack with our numbers.”
“It was a tribute fort anyway. We’re setting up camp and hitting them with Goguryeo Fire for now.”
“Got it. They might try a night raid once they see how few we are.”
“We’ll prepare thoroughly.”
He wasn’t flashy, but he didn’t make mistakes—that’s why I’d been thrilled when he volunteered for this tribute fort, Gwanmi Fortress.
By then, the assembled Yeon Clan Cannon had fired its Goguryeo Fire. I spotted Ham-a rushing over the moment I dismounted. The flaming projectile streaked through the sky with a long tail of fire, slamming into the fortress wall’s battlements and scattering flames everywhere. Stone walls or not, the fire wouldn’t go out easily. It even leaped to the soldiers trying to douse it. General Sobuson, looking pleased, added,
“With the navy blocking the river, it’s reassuring. They’ll cut off any reinforcements or supplies coming by water.”
“The navy will hold position here awhile. Coordinate with them for whatever you need.”
“Will do. What about Danghang Fortress?”
“Crown Prince Uija took it a few days ago. Baekje’s navy has Danghang Port too.”
“Our turn for a win now.”
“No rushing it. Hold steady against them and keep watch for relief forces.”
“Understood. I won’t overdo it—don’t worry.”
His serious tone put me at ease.
“Then I’m counting on you, General.”
I thanked him and approached Yang Manchun, who was talking with his men.
“How’re the mounted flails?”
“Won’t beat spears, but they’ll handle swords fine. And just swinging’s all it takes—easy to train.”
“Thanks for saving my life.”
“You’re the most important man in Goguryeo right now.”
His sincere words moved me to near tears. But I tamped down the emotion for practical talk.
“We’re light on numbers here—they might night raid us.”
“Sobuson already mentioned it. Don’t worry. Not one’ll slip away.”
“Enemy relief could show in our rear. Don’t push too hard.”
“Got it. Relax. You leaving now?”
“Yeah. With you here, I feel better.”
“I’ll assign some men as escort. Silla might pop up again.”
I couldn’t bring myself to say that even if they all died here, he had to survive and return. Geom Mojam arrived with the horses as we spoke. Yang Manchun’s ten-odd cavalry escorts were ready too. Ham-a came sprinting up at the sight. As I mounted, Yang Manchun approached for farewell.
“Wish I could go with you, but duty calls here.”
“Rack up merits and head home.”
“Yeah. Father looked much older last time.”
I bid Yang Manchun farewell and left the camp. Geom Mojam, leading, asked,
“To Chiljung Fortress?”
“That’s where we settle it.”
“Understood. Picking up speed.”
At his urging, Yang Manchun’s men accelerated. We headed northeast through what would one day be the Freedom Road, past the future site of Heyri Village where artists would gather.
We sped along the Imjin River, now called Chiljungha. Villages dotted the way, mostly empty—folks fled at war news, it seemed. Half a day’s ride, around high noon, flames rose in the distance.
“That must be Chiljung Fortress.”
“Likely.”
Geom Mojam scanned around briefly, wary in borderlands. Sticking to Chiljungha, we spotted Gorangpo in the distance—a rare river crossing I’d scouted before, fierce battleground in the Korean War.
‘Horogoru should be nearby.’
I glanced around, remembering the park-like site. Then Geom Mojam, out front, shouted,
“Something on the right!”
A band of cavalry charged from a wooded hillock. Spotting them, Geom Mojam drew his sword. Yang Manchun’s escorts gripped their flails. But the dust-churning riders looked familiar. I raised a hand and called,
“It’s fine. Malgal cavalry.”
Up close, they were leather-armored, fur-hatted Malgals—lying in ambush for Silla troops or civilians, who’d spotted us instead. Joining them, we reached General Onsamin’s camp before Chiljung Fortress. Low hills lay south, ringed by walls—the fortress.
‘Just traces left on my old trip, but it looked like this.’
The walls encircled the peak solidly, imposingly.
‘Called a retreat-mountain fortress, hugging the ridge.’
Onsamin’s camp sprawled north of it, across the Imjin. Over ten thousand strong, dwarfing Gwanmi’s setup. Light cavalry and Malgal riders came and went endlessly on recon and raids. Central black tent: General Onsamin conferring with attached General Godolbal.
“Welcome. You made great time.”
Tired but vibrant, he grinned. I smiled back.
“Couldn’t wait to see you, General.”
“Just heard from a messenger. Took Danghang Fortress and port?”
“Yes.”
“Baekje land in the end, but satisfying.”
“Now we take Chiljung.”
“Of course. I’ll breach it.”
Confident words, but Chiljung was no pushover. Per the Chronicles of the Three Kingdoms, four battles there—last between Goguryeo revival army and Tang, others Goguryeo vs. Silla. Goguryeo failed all but once.
‘Need a different outcome this time.’
As I rested, a grating but familiar voice called from afar.
“Master!”
Go Jeong-ui bounded over, beaming. Trailing him, grim-faced Supreme Central Administrator Busang—exhausted, probably from Jeong-ui’s nonstop chatter. Go Jeong-ui approached, hollering brightly,
“You smashed Danghang Fortress?”
“Still young—watch your language?”
“Psh, after all I’ve been through?”
I bit back that others might think him a veteran. Trudging up, Busang scowled,
“Grand General trails the main force—where’ve you been?”
“Attacking Danghang Port. Took fortress and port from Silla. Plans are set—watch and see, Supreme Administrator.”
Probably barking to assert authority. But after modern power trips, it bounced off me. To drive it home,
“In battle, the Grand General’s word is law. I know you’re here to oversee, but I won’t tolerate provocations.”
“What?”
“This is a battlefield. Act like Central Administration back home, and I won’t stand idle.”
Hand on my belt, I glared—back off. Let it slide once, and it’d repeat. Realizing the mood shift, Busang faltered. I leaned in, whispering,
“Come now, don’t you know why the Senior Central Administrator and Great King sent you here?”
Supreme Central Administrator Busang snorted in reply.