Chapter 152
Chapter 152
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 152
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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I shouted to Ki Doryang as he loaded his bow with arrows.
"Throw rocks instead of arrows!"
Ki Doryang set down his bow and yelled,
"Throw rocks!"
The soldiers dropped their bows and hurled or rolled rocks of all sizes. The rocks picked up speed as they tumbled down. Raiders climbing up over their comrades' corpses had their heads and legs smashed and broken. The rocks that rolled to the bottom struck the heads and bodies of the horses carrying raiders below. The screaming horses collapsed, sowing chaos.
Ki Doryang was good at throwing rocks too, landing one squarely on the head of a raider crawling up. The raider tumbled head over heels without even a proper scream. Geom Mojam bellowed orders from the top of the boulder, his throat nearly raw. Godolbal thrust his long spear into raiders who drew near.
"Come on up! Not a single one of you is getting past!"
Itain swung his sword, severing raiders' necks. The severed heads rolled down amid clouds of dust. The raiders suffered massive losses but pressed on relentlessly. The gentler slope was nearly breached. Watching this, I charged out.
"Master! No!"
Ignoring Geom Mojam's cry, I drew Jumong's spearhead and shouted,
"Vital points!"
With a resonant hum, Jumong's spearhead flew forth, slashing across the throats of the raiders in front. Blood sprayed like fountains as the sword-wielding foes toppled like dominoes. The raiders, who hadn't lost momentum despite their heavy sacrifices, finally faltered. I leaped over the fallen raiders and shouted again.
"Vital points!"
Jumong's spearhead shot from my hand once more, grazing the napes of raiders crawling up the hill. Over a dozen clutched their necks and collapsed or slumped down. Gripping the returning spearhead, I approached a staggering raider and kicked him square in the chest. With a guttural squeal, he tumbled violently down the hill.
Toppling the clustered raiders like that opened some breathing room. Yang Man-chun arrived late, his blade bloodied, and cut down the surrounding raiders. He blocked my path, panting as he said,
"You're insane!"
"I can't just stand back."
"Get a grip! Everyone's risking their lives to protect you—what the hell are you doing?"
Before Yang Man-chun's scolding finished, a raider charged with a bent sword raised overhead. Yang Man-chun shoved me back and lunged forward. He dodged the swinging blade to the side, then casually slashed off the raider's wrist. The raider, deprived of his sword hand, howled and sank to his knees. Staring at his gushing stump, he was impaled through the chest by Yang Man-chun's next swing. Looking down at the fallen raider, Yang Man-chun yelled,
"Stack their bodies! We can't let them climb up!"
At Yang Man-chun's command, the soldiers hurriedly piled the dead raiders' corpses like a wall. It was gruesome, but the squishy bodies made for an awkward barrier to cross. Godolbal, his face splattered with blood, drove his spear into the lower belly of a raider trying to clamber over a comrade's corpse. Blood and entrails coated the spear tip protruding from the raider's back. Beside him, Itain hacked off both legs of another raider attempting to cross. He then flung the legless raider atop the pile of bodies. The maimed man thrashed about, spraying blood everywhere.
The fierce melee continued amid screams and shouts from all sides. The raiders outnumbered us overwhelmingly, but the unfavorable terrain inflicted heavy casualties. The tangled brawl reached a lull as the raiders pulled back. Yet those encircling the boulder showed no sign of retreat.
They fell back to a distance, forming clusters here and there. Then they loosed arrows, felling our horses. In the cramped space, we couldn't shelter all the mounts. The horses neighed mournfully as they dropped one by one. At least a dozen managed to hide in the rock crevices. Geom Mojam came down to check on his men. Yang Man-chun, drenched in blood from head to toe, sat quietly on a rock, glaring below. I called out to Geom Mojam, who was looking around.
"Casualties?"
"Including about a dozen from the rear guard, twenty-five dead and seventeen badly wounded, unable to fight."
"Nearly half down."
"Yes. We killed at least two hundred of the bastards, but at least twice that many remain."
"Their identity?"
"I ordered an inspection of the bodies."
"Any contact with Asilbul or Ariyeong?"
"We sent messengers before being surrounded, but no word if they arrived. Even if they do, their numbers won't match."
"Confirming our position is key for now."
Geom Mojam glanced at the sky and muttered,
"It'll be dark soon."
"Can we make a fire?"
"We have flint, but no proper firewood. As you see, it's all rock."
I scanned around and spotted something usable.
"Strip the corpses' clothes. Excluding the blood-soaked parts, we can burn the rest."
"Smart. I'll have them gather cloth immediately."
"If we hold out—how long?"
Geom Mojam hesitated before answering,
"With barely any food or water, not long."
"They know that, which is why they're watching from below?"
I finally realized why the raiders weren't withdrawing. Geom Mojam grimaced.
"They're waiting for us to starve or die of thirst."
"Channo?"
"He's nearby, I think, but no contact. He'll likely stay hidden until the critical moment."
A phone would solve this, but of course, nothing like that existed. Geom Mojam ordered his men to tear and collect cloth from the bodies. Itain, gripping his bloody sword, shoved a limp raider's corpse with his back to add to the pile. An arrow whistled past overhead from below. The raiders positioned around the boulder were shooting sporadically. Itain picked up a broken arrow off the rock and showed it to me.
"Something's off."
"What?"
"Their arrows."
The arrowhead Itain held wasn't metal—it was stone.
"This is a Malgal tribe arrow. From the far eastern Sokmal Malgal, specifically."
"Malgals are our allies, though."
"Not always, but it's suspicious. The conical fur hats the raiders wore are Khitan style."
"So Khitans using Sokmal Malgal arrows."
"Khitans get iron from us and the Tang. No need for stone arrowheads."
Staring at the stone arrowhead as Itain explained, the answer came quickly.
"They're hiding their identity."
"On the plains, they can vanish easily—no need to hide. Even among Khitans, tribes deny involvement."
"Not just nomad raiders, then."
"I've never seen such persistence. And shooting the horses? Not simple looters."
Despair crept in as I listened to Itain. Blocking our retreat while feigning an opening, pressing despite losses—the target was clearly me.
"I thought too lightly of this."
As I berated myself, Itain shook his head.
"Who could've foreseen this? If you hadn't led us here, we'd have been hunted down without a real fight."
"We need an escape plan."
"We'll get out alive, no doubt."
Itain's former ambitious glint had faded. In its place, I saw mental growth from overcoming his father's death.
"Reliable."
"Thank you. Leave this to me—no worries, Master."
After talking with Itain, I headed to the boulder's summit. Arrows flew from below, but too distant to reach. Darkness had fallen swiftly, blanketing everything in shadow. Only stars twinkling overhead and campfires lit by raiders around the boulder pierced the gloom.
The standoff lasted into the deepening night. Wounded men's cries faded to silence. Both sides, taut with tension, traded curses and arrows in a war of nerves. We lit fires, but neither Asilbul nor Ariyeong appeared. Despair mounting, Geom Mojam approached.
"We may need to break through at dawn."
"We don't have many horses left."
"Feign escape with you and the close guards to lure them."
"Then?"
"When they chase, the rest escape on the spare horses."
"Leaving the others to die here?"
"You must live for all of us to live."
"I live only if we all do."
I said that, but the situation was hopeless. They'd targeted me from the start, trapping us meticulously. Gazing down at the hill below the boulder, I racked my brain for escape. Jumong's spearhead might carve a path, but not easily—too many attackers at once.
'I need a way. A way out.'
Geom Mojam pondered escape, so the enemy surely anticipated mine. Luring with decoys then fleeing opposite—they'd expect that too. I needed an unforeseen exit. Dawn breakout? Off the table—they'd predict a desperate push. I envisioned and discarded routes one by one.
Meanwhile, dawn came and went. On the open plain, darkness fled as swiftly as it arrived. Geom Mojam climbed a rock to count the raiders massing below. Looking up from below, I asked,
"How many?"
"About four hundred."
"How many campfires?"
"Six."
"Sixty to seventy per site."
"Yes. With enough horses, we could've charged through like lightning."
"No horses, no chance?"
"Impossible. The moment we move, they'll flank on horseback and encircle. No man outruns a horse, and we tire faster."
Then, plumes of dust rose from the west—clearly a group of galloping horses. Geom Mojam noticed and shouted to me,
"Master! Someone's coming!"
"I see it!"