Chapter 193
Chapter 193
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 193
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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After completing their preparations, the Malgal tribesmen, led by Chief Geukgeuk, began moving silently. Perhaps due to their wealth of experience, they moved in perfect unison: they wrapped straw around their horses' hooves to muffle the sound and bound the reins tightly around the horses' muzzles. They proceeded on foot rather than riding, keeping their swords—which might clink—at their waists while securely tying spears and bows to the horses' saddles.
Having taken these measures to eliminate any noise, they headed toward the ruined fortress north of Gaemo Fortress. Guides sent ahead by Chief Geukgeuk waited at intervals and joined them along the way. The scouts dispatched earlier returned with reports. After conferring with them during a brief rest stop, Chief Geukgeuk approached and said,
"The ones holed up in the ruins are Cheolruk bastards. Their numbers are estimated at around two to three thousand."
"Similar to ours. Where in the ruins are they staying?"
"The ruins are built squarely on flat ground, much like Liaodong Fortress. There's a south gate and a north gate. They've tethered their horses nearby on both sides, with soldiers scattered around, and the leaders are bunkered in a collapsed hall in the center of the ruins."
"What about perimeter security?"
"Sentries patrol near the south and north gates. They're at a distance, so we should be able to take them out quietly before launching the raid."
After the report, I committed the fortress's layout and the Cheolruk tribe's positions to memory. Then I decided on the raid strategy.
"Split the unit in two and attack the south and north gates."
"What's the raid plan?"
"We'll trap them inside so they can't come out."
"You mean seal them in?"
I nodded at Chief Geukgeuk's question.
"That's the best way to wipe them out. Block the gates with Goguryeo Fire and iron caltrops to keep them pinned. Then hurl Goguryeo Fire inside and burn them alive."
"Excellent plan. I'll take the north gate."
"Very well. We'll split the forces here. Once we're in position, a fire arrow will signal the start."
"Understood. We'll divide the troops evenly. We'll be ready when the fire arrow comes."
"When the fire arrow goes up from the south gate and flames erupt, they'll try to flee toward the north gate. Don't let a single one escape."
After the rest, the split forces proceeded silently along the path. Walking among them, I occasionally glanced up at the sky. The jet-black night sky sparkled with stars like embedded jewels. Gradually, those stars morphed into the faces of my wife, children, and family.
"What are you thinking about so deeply?"
I gave a light smile at Geom Mojam's question from beside me.
"My family."
Hearing that, Geom Mojam flashed a complicated smile. Only then did I recall he wasn't married yet. As I started to say something, a shout came from ahead: we'd spotted the ruins.
"Halt."
The entire column stopped. A scout hurried back with a report.
"The ruins are about five li ahead."
"Sentries?"
"Five or so on that low hill ahead. They're laughing and chatting loudly—easy to pinpoint."
"Then we'll go eliminate them right away."
No sooner had I spoken than a wave of nausea hit me for the first time in ages. Fortunately, the darkness hid it, but it meant my judgment was off.
'Eliminating the sentries was the wrong call?'
But sneaking up without taking them out was impossible. As the nausea subsided, I issued the order.
"Hold position."
Geom Mojam, who'd signaled the scout to stop, looked at me. With no time to waste, I made the decision.
"I'll go myself."
Geom Mojam wore an expression of disbelief at my sudden remark. But since removing the sentries could backfire, I resolved to check personally. Reading my face, Geom Mojam selected five retainers with a gesture and led off, with the scout who knew the sentries' position in front.
To move silently and stay low, it took considerable time. Luckily, the moon wasn't bright, and the sporadic woods around us echoed with insects and birdsong, swallowing our footsteps. The lead scout raised his left hand, pointing ahead. At first, nothing was visible, but shadows atop a small mound soon came into view. As the scout said, they were laughing raucously, paying no heed to their surroundings. Geom Mojam muttered,
"Idiots."
I shared the sentiment, but something felt off.
"Close in and take them out."
"I've told the men to grab the Yeon Clan Crossbows. At close range, they won't dodge."
At Geom Mojam's words, we proceeded. Chief Geukgeuk was surely waiting at the north gate. The boisterous Cheolruk sentries noticed nothing until we were close. At about thirty paces, one glanced our way—but by then, the retainers had the Yeon Clan Crossbows primed. Geom Mojam dropped his raised hand, and arrows flew. The rapid-fire crossbows unleashed dozens of shafts, turning the five sentries into pincushions in an instant. They collapsed without a scream. Geom Mojam drew his sword and rushed to check them. Following, I looked down at the bodies.
"No one else around."
No signs of life, as Geom Mojam said. Yet the nausea lingered.
"There's definitely something here!"
With nothing visible and no time to spare, only one option remained. I drew the blade of Jumong's spear from my wrist bracer, looped the leather strap around my wrist, and shouted sharply,
"Enemy!"
The blade shot forth like a living thing, embedding in the nearby ground and wriggling deeper. A short scream and spurting blood followed. Geom Mojam dashed over, gripping his sword reversed, and stabbed furiously at the spot where the blade had struck. It looked like bare earth, but it was canvas covered with scattered dirt—a perfect camouflage. Beneath lay a pit big enough for two men: one had half his nape severed by Jumong's blade, the other thrashed with Geom Mojam's sword buried in his crown. As the blade returned, having halved his neck, I shouted again.
"Enemy!"
This time, nothing. The nausea vanished. Catching my breath, I heard Geom Mojam shake blood from his blade and ask,
"How did you know they were hiding?"
I couldn't tell the truth, so I brushed it off.
"A hunch."
"If they'd ambushed or signaled, we'd have been done before we started."
"No time—move fast. Pour Goguryeo Fire at the gate, then scatter caltrops behind it. On signal, lob it over the walls."
"Got it."
Geom Mojam ordered one subordinate to bring up the main force, then headed for the ruins. Just then, clouds parted slightly, revealing the fortress. The flatland structure was crumbling in places but suitable for garrisoning. The target south gate lacked a gate tower, with part of the wall above collapsed. No proper gate—just a barricade of logs like a horse block.
As I observed, the main force advanced slowly. Geom Mojam positioned the soldiers strategically. Some carried pots, sprinkling Goguryeo Fire evenly before the gate, then hurling heaps of caltrops behind. Others dismounted to ready Yeon Clan Crossbows; the rest prepared to mount. Urging haste, Geom Mojam turned to me.
"Ready."
"Fire the signal arrow!"
At Geom Mojam's gesture, an archer loosed a flaming arrow skyward. It tore through the silent darkness, vivid and beautiful. Moments later, one rose from the north. Almost simultaneously, clamor and trumpet blasts erupted from within the ruins. But we were already in place, primed.
Geom Mojam said excitedly,
"The flying chariots made scouting their positions a breeze."
"Good. They'll show soon. Get ready!"
No sooner said than a group of Cheolruk burst out, shoving aside the log barricade. I signaled to wait, but my ungagged horse arrived. Gripping the reins, I glared at the south gate. Soon, hoofbeats thundered as Cheolruk charged through.
"Now!"
My shout barely ended when a torch ignited by flint was hurled. The pre-spread Goguryeo Fire erupted fiercely. A horse reared in fright, its whinny mixing with frantic shouts beyond the flames. Geom Mojam bellowed,
"Loose!"
Arrows from the Yeon Clan Crossbows rained on the gate area. Horses with throats and torsos pierced crumpled; flung Cheolruk tumbled into the blaze. One thrashed up, clawing at the fire on his body, but failed. They melted gruesomely amid screams, the stench of burning flesh and metal wrinkling the crossbowmen's noses. Yet Geom Mojam kept yelling to fire while shouting to the rear,
"Throw as soon as you're set!"
Soldiers clutching pots of Goguryeo Fire bound with cords surged forward, whirling and lobbing them over the wall—like the fire rat festivals from childhood TV. Pots shattered atop the wall, eliciting horse screams. We'd heard their mounts were tethered there; this was the plan.
"Horses are the nomads' hands and feet."
As attacks continued, half the soldiers mounted. We didn't know how the enemy would react. The Malgal horsemen, expert riders, stared blankly at the ruins. Flames at the gate raged on; whenever they flagged, more Goguryeo Fire was tossed. The Cheolruk milled in panic, unable to exit, repeatedly felled by arrows. Geom Mojam shouted gleefully,
"At this rate, it's a huge victory!"
"Watch and wait."
Nomad battles were unpredictable; this wouldn't end easily. As breakthrough stalled, Cheolruk loosed arrows outward. A few crossbowmen fell, but most stood firm, returning fire. Occasional wall-scalers were pinpointed by vigilant Malgal archers. Horseless Cheolruk who crested were easy prey, cut down by twos or threes with swords and spears. Flames and screams rose from the north gate too. Then Geom Mojam's cry rang out.
"Master! They're coming!"