Chapter 60
Chapter 60
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 60
Chapter Title: The Arriving Generals
-----------------------------------------------------------------
“What’s the inside of the fortress like?”
“It’s not that big. But the mountain paths are treacherous with no flat ground, so climbing up was really tough.”
“Where are the gates?”
“There are no gates.”
“No gates? What do you mean?”
Surprised, I asked again, and Pug Nose replied.
“There are east and west gates, but you have to lower ladders to climb up.”
“It’s a suspension gate.”
To bolster defenses, they skip building proper gates, lower the wall slightly, and rely on ladders to scale it.
“Crazy bastards.”
“Goguryeo merchants like us are never let in. I got lucky that time.”
“Were there wells inside the fortress?”
“Two large cisterns for rainwater and one well. Strangely enough, water’s not scarce on a mountaintop.”
“That’s why they built the fortress there, right?”
Another merchant chimed in, and Pug Nose nodded.
“And those Silla dogs are viciously tenacious. Don’t underestimate them.”
Hearing that reminded me of someone who’d said something similar before.
I made a bitter face without realizing it, and Go Jeong-ui gazed at me with the same expression.
“Come to think of it, we both nearly died back then.”
“We survived by sharing. You’d have hogged it otherwise.”
This time, I had no comeback. I just patted his head.
Go Jeong-ui sighed.
“We’ll need to mobilize more cavalry.”
“Mountain paths?”
“Cavalry’s perfect for circling behind and raiding their camps. Plus, we need them to block enemy approaches. Malgal tribesmen are ideal.”
Malgal tribe brought to mind Saenghae, the Malgal general who’d attacked Silla alongside Roeumsin. But that was nearly twenty-five years from now, so he was probably still a kid—or not even born.
As we bantered boisterously, the door to Bin Yeon Pavilion flew open.
Three warriors in armor stepped inside.
For a moment, I wondered if they were intruders. But this was deep in the mansion—random break-ins weren’t likely.
‘Their eyes aren’t red either.’
A bit relieved, I watched as they descended the stairs.
The warrior in the middle had half his hair and beard turned white. He wasn’t large-framed but gave off a solid, sturdy vibe. To his right was a small-eyed man with a bushy beard, looking every bit the mountain bandit. The one on the left was gaunt as a skeleton, his cheekbones jutting out sharply.
The middle warrior eyed me, helmet tucked under his arm.
“You’re Yeon Gaesomun, Eastern Division Leader’s eldest son, Yeon Namsaeng?”
The unfamiliar name made me flinch for a second. But I was living as Yeon Namsaeng now, so I accepted it.
“That’s me. And who might you be?”
The old warrior gave me an ambiguous look.
“I’m On Sawen from Buyeo Fortress. The bandit-lookin’ one on the right is Sobuson from Bakjak Fortress, and the scrawny skull on the left is Ango from Sin Fortress.”
Real historical figures whose names popped up in Samguk Sagi and Chinese annals—standing right in front of me.
‘Not what I expected.’
My expectations came from historical dramas, really.
“Long journey must’ve been rough. Pleased to meet you.”
I dipped my head in greeting, and On Sawen looked flustered.
“They say the Eastern Leader’s son is a heroic champion, and humble to boot.”
“We’re comrades in life and death—it’s only right.”
I flashed a broad smile, and On Sawen glanced at the generals flanking him.
“We fretted the whole way here. Pointless.”
“I don’t know much about war. I need your help.”
“We’ll give it our all. It’s a golden opportunity for us too.”
“Thank you. This is my strategist and idea man, Go Jeong-ui.”
“He’s still a kid?”
“Top disciple of National Academy Scholar Lee Mun-jin. Lacks manners, but sharp as a tack.”
“Lacks manners? Name one strategist more courteous than me!”
On Sawen burst into laughter at Go Jeong-ui’s indignation.
“Feisty one, eh?”
“We’re gathering intel on our target, Niha Fortress. This way.”
I told Go Jeong-ui to keep chatting with the merchants and led the three generals over. They gawked at the model of Niha Fortress in the center.
Sobuson stroked his beard.
“Never seen one made like this.”
“Lets us visualize the battlefield in detail. We’re confirming the fortress’s internal layout and surrounding terrain.”
Silent Ango eyed the Maemul Merchant Guild traders talking with Go Jeong-ui.
“Those peddlers?”
“Yeah. They cross borders freely for trade, so they know plenty.”
“Niha itself is small—light garrison. But if we attack, Dalholju’ll send reinforcements. They’re closer, so it favors them.”
Ango’s words sparked a question.
“You fought at Niha before?”
“Fifteen years ago.”
He jabbed a finger under his right eye.
“This scar’s from there.”
A teardrop-shaped gouge ran below his eye, like a trail of dried tears.
“My brother died there. We never reached the wall.”
“I’ll give you a shot at revenge this time.”
“I’ll trust you on that.”
“Rest up today. Strategy session tomorrow. We’ll gather more intel meantime.”
“Biggest issue: no way to get siege engines to the wall. Ladders alone mean heavy losses.”
“We’ve got a new trebuchet.”
“Flat ground’s a good hundred paces below. Out of trebuchet range.”
I glanced at Go Jeong-ui amid Ango’s grumbling.
He spoke confidently.
“Master’s Yeon Clan Cannon’ll lob it two hundred paces easy.”
“For real?”
On Sawen blurted in shock. Go Jeong-ui beamed.
“Of course. We even built a crossbow that fires ten bolts in a row. Our master’s a hero sent from heaven.”
I smirked at his uncharacteristic excitement.
On Sawen tugged his beard.
“That’d give us a real edge against Silla scum.”
“Wasn’t made for Silla, actually.”
“Then?”
“Tang, naturally.”
I said it offhand, and Sobuson snorted.
“Heard they toppled the last eastern border pagoda recently. Great King’s got no fight in him—how’re we supposed to?”
“Great King’s goodwill won’t save us. I’m preparing regardless. War with Tang’s inevitable.”
“That certain?”
“Yep. And when it hits, it’ll make Sui look like a picnic. Better prep now.”
“As rumored—impressive. Yeon clan’s about to take wing.”
“I need your help. Want to hit the goal with minimal lives lost.”
I spoke from the heart, and On Sawen stepped up.
“We’re in. Wouldn’t have this chance without you. Right?”
Sobuson and Ango nodded. Things were clicking with these generals—better than expected. Felt good.
Then the door swung open again. A young warrior appeared. I recognized him instantly.
“Godolbal of Ogol Fortress.”
He scanned the room, then approached me.
‘Looks younger than me.’
Late teens, plain helmet, leather armor—no frills.
Young, but his bulging eyes and square jaw screamed toughness.
“You the one who summoned me?”
On Sawen interjected.
“Insolent! Know who this is?”
“Eastern Leader’s eldest son, I heard.”
“Yeon clan’s the kingdom’s top house. He’s the heir. Show respect.”
Despite On Sawen’s scolding, Godolbal’s greeting was half-hearted.
“Pleased to meet you. I’m Godolbal of Ogol Fortress.”
“Heard you’re a spear master.”
He blinked in surprise.
“How’d you know? No one in Ogol beats me with a spear.”
In 645’s Tang invasion, he’d speared and wounded Tang general Gae Pilhaeng. Didn’t make Samguk Sagi, but Chinese records preserved his name.
“I know everything.”
“Got called outta nowhere to Zhangan Fortress—shocked me.”
“We’re hitting a Silla fortress soon. Need your help.”
“So I’m vanguard?”
His take on charging into death was worlds apart from modern views.
Amusing, but time to take him down a peg.
“Pass my test, and you lead the front.”
“For real? Gimme one spear—I’ll flatten those scarecrow conscripts.”
Geom Mojam bristled at the entrance.
I considered pitting him against Geom Mojam, then thought of someone else.
“Geom Mojam!”
“Yes, Master!”
“Where’s Adokbang?”
“Practicing the flail you made him.”
“Fetch him. Wanna see what a few days’ practice got him.”
“On it.”
Geom Mojam grinned and vanished.
I stepped to the entrance, borrowed a spear from a conscript, and handed it to Godolbal.
“This work?”
“Sure. Any spear’s fine.”
“Wrap the blade in cloth, just in case.”
“No need. I can subdue without a scratch.”
Godolbal gripped it and strode to the courtyard, whirling it with crisp, sharp motions.
Sobuson, trailing behind, looked impressed.
“No amateur. How’d you find him?”
“Rumors.”
By then, Geom Mojam returned with Adokbang.
Godolbal, mid-flourish, gaped.
“Special forces type.”
Adokbang dragged the flail I’d sketched for him.
The handle alone matched his height; the chain-linked iron head was forearm-thick.
Yang Man-chun followed in Adokbang’s wake.
“Fight time?”
I introduced the three generals to Yang’s playful grin and took position before the stairs.
Apparently briefed en route, Adokbang stripped to the waist and readied for battle.
Godolbal stuck out his tongue at those waist-thick arms. Mischief struck me.
“Scared? You can forfeit.”
Godolbal replied hesitantly.
“Nah. Size doesn’t beat a spear.”
“Fair enough.”
I finished with Godolbal and turned to Adokbang.