Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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The next day, I woke to the sound of wind chimes.
I opened my eyes and stretched. With spring giving way to summer, the weather was perfect.
"I never knew the absence of fine dust could feel this good."
On top of that, with no pollution of any kind, the air was incredibly fresh.
I stretched once more and opened the door. Sure enough, Geom Mojam was already up early, inspecting the horses.
Sensing my presence, Geom Mojam turned and bowed his head.
"Did you sleep well, Master?"
"You're up early."
"There's much to see, so I hurried. Go Jeong-ui and I, along with a select group of retainers, will escort you."
"Can't we leave out that chatty little kid?"
Geom Mojam chuckled softly before replying.
"He's your purse of clever ideas. How could we leave him behind?"
He wasn't wrong, so I ended up laughing too.
I filled my belly with porridge prepared by the temple monks and mounted my horse.
Geom Mojam asked,
"Where would you like to go first?"
"I want to see the Gwanggaeto Stele and the tombs nearby. Is the Gukdong Great Shrine over that way?"
I avoided names like General's Tomb or Great King's Tomb. They were posthumous labels anyway, so no one here would know them.
"It's down by the riverbank. We can tour the area and end at the Gukdong Great Shrine."
"The route?"
"One of the retainers hails from Guknae Fortress."
"Got it. Let's go."
I swapped the cumbersome Hwandu Greatsword for the spearhead of Jumong that the shrine maiden of Liaodong Fortress had given me.
Even Geom Mojam, who always nagged me to carry a weapon, said nothing this time.
As the weather warmed, I dressed lightly. But the winged golden crown ornament was still a bit heavy.
Led by the retainer from Guknae Fortress and one companion on horseback, our streamlined procession departed Tonguim Temple.
We sped through the streets and out the east gate. The flatland between the northern foothills and the southern riverbank was filled with tombs.
That's the Oksan-ha tomb cluster from my research papers.
The thought of visiting the site of Muyong Tomb and countless others firsthand made my heart race.
As we followed the low ridge of hills, the tombs came into view.
A stone mound tomb!
Also called a dolmen tomb, it was exactly as the name suggested: a burial mound built by stacking stones. Sometimes layered like a pyramid, other times piled like a cairn.
Either way, far grander than earth mounds, they stood out dramatically.
Stone mound tombs dotted the eastward path. For centuries, people born and died here had found eternal rest.
Descendants honored their ancestors with murals inside the tombs. And through those murals, later generations came to understand Goguryeo.
My chest tightened with emotion as I passed each tomb, gazing at them one by one. Up a gentle slope along the ridge loomed an enormous stone mound tomb.
The moment I saw it, instinct told me.
The Great King's Tomb.
In modern times, whose tomb it was remained unknown. But roof tiles unearthed here led to its name.
Even without knowing for sure, I knew at once.
"This is Gwanggaeto the Great's tomb."
Bearing the full name Gukgang Sang Gwanggaeto Gyeongpyeong Ho Taewang—usually shortened to Gwanggaeto the Great—this conquering monarch had elevated a battered Goguryeo to victor's heights.
True to his name meaning "Vast Expander of Territory," he expanded the realm. Banishing national woes, he brought peace—hence "Excellent Great King."
Some scholars argued the nearby General's Tomb might be his. But I knew instantly.
"No son builds a larger tomb than his father."
The Great King's Tomb dwarfed the other candidate by double. Over 60 meters wide and 14 meters high, with a massive retaining stone wall.
In modern times, it lay mostly in ruins. But here, well-maintained by tomb guardians, it looked pristine.
Tomb guardians in white jackets were weeding around it.
"Hold up!"
At my shout, Geom Mojam reined in his horse immediately.
I dismounted and walked toward the Great King's Tomb.
"I'll be right back."
Geom Mojam ordered his men to stay put, then hurriedly dismounted and stuck close by my side.
I scanned the nearby guardians—just in case—but no red eyes. East of the Great King's Tomb stood a stone altar-like structure. Beside it, something similar, guarded by spearmen: a sentry post.
The tomb's summit was flat, topped by a tiled-roof building on brick pillars.
Suddenly, I recalled a paper about tile fragments found atop the Great King's Tomb.
"There was a sacrificial platform up top."
Leaning against a retaining stone at the tomb's base, I looked up. An inexplicable swell of emotion kept my eyes from focusing.
After standing there a while, Geom Mojam's discreet cough snapped me out of it.
"Let's go. We're running late."
Geom Mojam took the lead at once. As I followed, I glanced back.
In modern times, grave goods and even the coffin were gone. The upper structure had collapsed entirely, leaving only traces.
Worse, China's Northeast Project obsession meant poor maintenance.
I have to protect this tomb from ruin.
With renewed resolve, I headed to another historic relic: the Gwanggaeto Stele.
Not far from the Great King's Tomb, we arrived quickly. In modern times, it sat encased in glass within a Chinese pavilion. But before me, the stele stood freely.
A breeze from the hillside carried me slowly forward.
The 6.4-meter stele towered in welcome. Erected by son King Jangsu to immortalize his father's deeds. Yet after Goguryeo's fall, it was forgotten for over a millennium, rediscovered only in the 20th century.
Interpretations of the inscription varied wildly, but that didn't matter. What counted was seeing it, 200 years after erection.
The roughly hewn stone bore clerical script characters exuding Goguryeo's peak confidence. Along with poignant longing for a father gone too soon.
As I stared up silently, Go Jeong-ui approached.
"I've only heard tales. First time seeing it for real."
"What do you call that stele?"
"The Ho Taewang Stele, naturally. It's for honoring the Excellent Great King."
We called him Gwanggaeto the Great, but contemporaries knew him as Ho Taewang.
Go Jeong-ui, arms crossed, added,
"When Ho Taewang lived, Yeon Kingdom, Baekjan, and Maegum couldn't twitch. Not even the Wa across the sea."
Even the usually stoic Go Jeong-ui sounded excited. Mention of Baekjan—Baekje's slur—and Maegum—Silla's—drew a laugh from me.
Seeing me laugh, Go Jeong-ui bristled.
"Why the laugh?"
"That Maegum's a huge headache now."
"True enough. Vile lot. Without us, they'd have fallen to Wa or Baekjan."
Inwardly, I thought that made them all the more impressive. Dead last catching up to first. I wanted to tell Go Jeong-ui,
Those Maegum bastards will sack Chang'an Castle in 30 years.
Of course, I couldn't voice it. Changing that history was my mission now.
The hillside sun deepened the stele's shadow. Standing within it, I gazed down at the Yalu River.
Sparrows flew over scattered boats. All peaceful—for now. In a decade or so, it would shatter. Followed by decades of war ending Goguryeo.
To shake off the gloom, I approached the stele and touched it with one hand. Then asked Go Jeong-ui,
"How long do you think Ho Taewang will be remembered?"
"As long as Goguryeo endures, forever praised."
"Then we must protect Goguryeo."
At least prevent it being forgotten for a millennium.
I let out a long sigh and told Go Jeong-ui,
"Now, to the Gukdong Great Shrine."
"To meet the Celestial Maiden?"
I nodded instead of answering and headed to the horses.
Geom Mojam, holding the reins, ordered his men to mount up. I stepped into the stirrup, swung aboard, and took the reins from him.
"How far to the Gukdong Great Shrine?"
At my question, Geom Mojam pointed east, toward the sunrise.
"Midway up the eastern mountains. Follow the Yalu and ascend."
"Lead on."
Geom Mojam spurred his horse toward the riverbank.
I followed at a leisurely pace. A tomb guardian working the fields bowed in greeting. Nearby children at play bowed too.
As we rode along the Yalu, a thought struck me.
"Come to think of it, the first capital Jolbon is nearby too."
Not far from Guknae Fortress, I wanted to see it. Especially Onnyeo Fortress, known only from photos.
Go Jeong-ui chimed in knowingly.
"Where Jumong fled Buyeo and established his first capital."
I glanced back, and he continued.
"He started with thatched palaces. Then, beginning with Songyang Kingdom, pacified neighbors and brought peace to the four seas."
"Goguryeo began as a tiny, weak state too."
"Hence the early name Jolbon Buyeo. The Gukdong alliance and festival might mark that small kingdom's rise to power."
"The festival made it strong?"
"Festivals lay on the path to strength. Yearly harvests offered to gods, with dances and songs."
"Right, we're a people of song and dance."
I'd laughed reading Goguryeo records in Chinese histories like the Hou Hanshu.
They described Goguryeo folk as hot-tempered, walking like they ran. Singing on roads, drumming and dancing at funerals.
It revealed the roots of karaoke and after-work drinks.
As I chuckled alone, Go Jeong-ui asked,
"What are you thinking now?"
"Nothing. Keep going."
"Truth is, Goguryeo formed from various tribes. Buyeo escapees with Jumong, Jolbon natives, subjugated petty states, even immigrants from China. The alliance festival unified them."
"Gathering, drinking, reveling—becoming one?"
"Exactly. Honoring Jumong instilled shared identity. Through it, Goguryeo embraced neighbors and pacified the world. But now..."
"Now?"
"It's fizzled out. Turned into a perfunctory formality."
"Why?"