Chapter 122
Chapter 122
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 122
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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The Malgal tribesmen watching from afar kept up their harassment, loosing arrows. Here and there, soldiers struck by arrows crumpled to the ground, even as Yang Man-chun's cavalry—who had wiped out the Silla vanguard—raised a cheer and swung their blood-smeared horse-flank flails. To their allies, it sounded ecstatic and grand, but to the enemy, it must have been utterly horrifying. In the end, the Silla army could advance no further and came to a halt.
Signal drums and horns blared, and the infantry fanned out to the roadside with shields raised. Geom Mojam muttered at the sight.
"The Silla army seems to have stopped."
"How far to Chiljung Fortress?"
"About ten li. Cross the plain, crest one hill, and it'll be right there."
"We've delayed them by a full day."
In that time, General On Sa-mun would have shored up his defenses and stockpiled food and supplies. Gwanmi Fortress and Maeso Fortress alike would fall easily to Goguryeo Fire.
"War really is a race against time."
Once more, the Malgal tribesmen advanced to harass the Silla troops as they tried to set up camp.
"Like actual mosquitoes."
Their buzzing was so irritating you wanted to swat them, but without a flyswatter, it was impossible.
"Ignore them, and they bite hard."
Geom Mojam chimed in with a booming laugh. Once his laughter died down, I asked,
"Which way's the wind blowing here?"
Geom Mojam glanced around before answering.
"Weakly, from north to south."
"Then we'll cut them off upwind. Right in front of them."
Geom Mojam got my meaning and eyed the Silla lines.
"Once they pitch camp anyway, it's not easy to pack up and move again."
I spotted a lone pine tree towering in the middle of the road.
"Send a messenger to Yang Man-chun. Tell him to head there. Have him move the sky lantern carts and the Goguryeo Fire wagons too."
As I gave the order to Geom Mojam, tension made my whole body go rigid.
We reached the pine—our rally point—and moments later, Yang Man-chun arrived. He proudly showed off his bloodied horse-flank flail.
"This thing? Wasn't much at first, but damn, it's got a nice swing."
"Congrats. You timed that ambush perfectly."
"'Cause I brought my own guys. They got the picture quick and moved fast."
"The main body's halted."
"Saw it coming in. Guess they can't take any more."
"They'll push again tomorrow?"
Yang Man-chun nodded.
"Probably. It's right there."
"That's why tonight, we're skipping the ghost act for some fireworks."
"You're really gonna rattle their brains."
"Only way to make 'em give up and turn tail."
Yang Man-chun smirked at my question.
"They'll wanna cry for real. Fortress is already lost, and we're hounding 'em on the march."
"Exactly why we slap their cheeks and chase 'em off. Far off."
"Love it. Just thinking about it gets me pumped."
As we traded words, the Silla army began setting up camp. With our forces so close and the situation unplanned, they couldn't raise tents or light cooking fires. They formed a ring of shields and hunkered inside. No doffing armor, just sitting or lying on the bare ground—no real rest.
Yang Man-chun's cavalry, riding high after smashing the vanguard, swung their flails and bellowed,
"Gonna smash your skulls with these!"
"Armor and shields won't save ya!"
"Silla bastards! Forget going home alive!"
The Silla camp, by contrast, was deathly quiet. Only the occasional groan from the wounded drifted over. Yang Man-chun scanned their lines and said,
"Just in case it's a trick, I'll scatter caltrops up front and spread out the men a bit."
"Handle it your way. Think they'll charge out?"
Yang Man-chun studied the enemy camp briefly and shook his head.
"Might send a few out on a desperate raid to shift the mood, but with the Malgals lurking, it'll be tough."
"Looks like things'll settle down then."
I let out a sigh of relief—then the Silla camp erupted in commotion. I glanced over warily, and suddenly a lone cavalryman burst from their lines. Silla rider with a couched lance, charging straight for our pine tree. Yang Man-chun's eyes went wide in surprise before he chuckled.
"Whoa, startled me. It's just a kid."
True to his word, the lone Silla rider was only a couple years older than Go Jeong-ui or Go Yeon-mu. But I stayed on high alert.
'I know exactly how a cornered Silla army turns the tables.'
The rider halted midway and bellowed,
"I am Hwanon, son of Hwancheon, lord of Chiljung Fortress! Vile Goguryeo dogs, take my lance!"
"Knew it."
"Knew what?"
I brushed off Yang Man-chun's question.
"Nah. He's probably a Hwarang."
"Hwarang? Those face-painted kids chasing mountain spirits?"
"Doesn't mean take 'em lightly."
Even as we spoke, Hwanon hurled insults and provocations in a booming voice. Yang Man-chun scowled.
"Brat's got a filthy mouth. Gotta go teach him some manners."
Geom Mojam stepped up to volunteer, and the other riders chimed in, insisting they should go. They were a bit excited, maybe amused—but I was dead serious.
'At the Battle of Hwangsan Plain, they sacrificed Bangul and Gwan Chang as bait to turn the tide. Before that, they used the Bi-ryeongja ploy.'
This confirmed Kim Yu-shin was with the Silla army. He'd probably egged the boy on to avenge his father, the fortress lord.
'What now? Send someone to behead him, and they'll use it as an excuse to attack?'
It was an era where a man's life was worth what his status demanded. If a noble's son dueled alone and died, his comrades had no choice but to avenge him. Kim Yu-shin exploited that better than anyone. I quietly reined in Yang Man-chun as he offered to go.
"I'll handle it."
"Hey! For a punk like that, why you?"
"He's not a punk. He's bait."
"Bait?"
"To enrage 'em by killing a young Hwarang."
Yang Man-chun finally caught on and ground his teeth.
"Cruel bastards."
"Could be their best shot at flipping a bad situation."
"So you're going? You'll be fine, but still...worries me. Better to shoot arrows and chase him off."
"He came ready to die. Think he'll just take an arrow?"
"Driving me nuts. You really going?"
Then Hwanon's shout pierced the air.
"Where's the enemy commander? Don't cower like a coward—come out and face me!"
The Silla troops banged their shields in support.
"He's calling for me."
Yang Man-chun laughed in disbelief, but Hwanon grated on again.
"No one in Goguryeo dares fight me? Cowards who only strike from ambush!"
Yang Man-chun's men started shifting, ready to move.
'This could ruin everything we've gained.'
I told Yang Man-chun,
"Calm your men. I'll sort this out."
"He's a kid, sure, but still a Hwarang. You good?"
"You doubting me?"
"Yeah. Never seen you handle a sword or spear worth a damn."
I nearly nodded. Before I possessed him, Yeon Namsaeng rode decently and handled a blade okay. But I was far from it—too busy with meetings, never liked physical stuff anyway. That's why I only dabbled in jujutsu. But now, I had to step up. Falling for Kim Yu-shin's favorite trick could turn victory into defeat or heavy losses.
"I'm good. Trust me."
"Fine. Come back in one piece."
I spurred my horse forward, ignoring Yang Man-chun's concern. Hwanon, building momentum with wild lance swings, stared as I appeared.
"Who're you?"
"I am Yeon Namsaeng, Supreme Central Administrator and Grand General of Goguryeo. Eldest son of the Eastern Yeon Clan, and Chief Armorer of the Central Administration Bureau."
"W-what?"
I shot back at the stunned Hwanon.
"Didn't you call for the commander? Here I am."
The Silla camp went as quiet as if doused with cold water. Kim Yu-shin's plan was no doubt to have some Malgal or rider kill Hwanon in a duel, then use it as pretext for a full assault to reverse the battle. But me, the Grand General, showing up was off-script. With my rank so much higher, even if he lost the duel, they had no grounds to complain. Hwanon shut his mouth, flustered.
"You think no one in Goguryeo would fight you, so nobody came out? I had to delay because my men tried to stop me."
"O-okay then! I'll take your head for my father's vengeance!"
"What a fool!"
I bellowed, and Hwanon flinched.
"Seeking your father's revenge, yet you call me fool? What insolence!"
"Your father Hwancheon fought like a tiger to the end. He spurned surrender and met an honorable death. Dying for one's country is a warrior's duty—why twist it into personal grudge and act so reckless?"
Caught off-guard by the rebuke, Hwanon looked lost. He was just a hot-blooded youth fueled by his father's death and someone else's prodding. As he hesitated, I pressed closer and laid into him again.
"When a father dies, a son's duty is to recover the body and hold the funeral. But charging to your death for revenge? That's a sin your mother and family can never wash away!"
"Sh-shut up! My mother told me to fight on and never retreat."
"Do you know Kim Yu-shin?"
He flinched at the name.
'Kim Yu-shin was behind this after all.'
"In the Battle of Niiha Fortress, Kim Yu-shin swallowed his grief and took his father General Kim Seohyun's body from me."
"Took the body?"
Hwanon's eyes widened in shock. Kim Yu-shin had clearly lied to him. I pressed the flustered boy.
"That's right. So why don't you follow that example instead of this reckless nonsense?"
Outmatched in logic, Hwanon seemed at a loss. But unwilling to slink back empty-handed, he regripped his lance.
"Even so, I can't retreat with my father's killer before me. Take my lance!"
He spurred his horse with real ferocity. I watched impassively, reins in hand—and sure enough, the spearhead at my waist began to quiver. I wrapped the leather thong around my wrist and murmured,
"The horse. Not the man."
No sooner had the words left my lips than the spearhead shot from its scabbard, piercing the neck of Hwanon's mount in the blink of an eye.