Chapter 63
Chapter 63
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 63
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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"That's because there's a 'later' to look forward to. Right now, I'm gathering my close aides."
"So I've heard."
"Your eldest brother, Go Yeonsu, is already one of Father's aides. And mine, too. So I don't need to explain things to you like I would to some newcomer. We both know there's a future ahead."
"Is that how it is?"
"Of course. This war isn't the end—it's just the beginning. There'll be a ton of massive events coming up. And your eldest brother will play a crucial role in all that."
"Really?"
"You bet."
I nodded slightly and let go of the hand I'd been holding.
"And when you grow up, you'll be doing some very important work with me."
"Me too?"
Go Yeonmu's eyes widened in surprise. Seeing that, Go Jeong-ui chimed in.
"You're still a long way off. Focus on studying hard at the National Academy first."
"Why don't you head to the National Academy and brush up on your studies too?"
Go Jeong-ui replied with a bored expression.
"I've already learned everything they have to offer there."
Ignoring Go Jeong-ui, I kept looking at Go Yeonmu. I'd stumbled upon an unexpected gem.
"Study hard at the National Academy, and in your spare time, learn military strategy. Do that, and I'll make sure to call on you for important duties."
"What kind of duties?"
I answered Go Yeonmu, whose eyes sparkled with excitement.
"Defending the nation and repelling invaders."
"If you give me the chance, I'll do my very best."
Go Yeonmu bowed deeply and returned to his seat. Watching him go, I fell into thought.
The records don't say what happened to Go Yeonmu in the end. But the Bodeok Kingdom he joined rebelled in 684 and was crushed.
'He probably died in that rebellion, or maybe passed away naturally before then. I hope it was the latter.'
Either way, I'd gained a promising talent, and that put me in a good mood. Go Jeong-ui, though, didn't look pleased at all. That was amusing in its own way.
"Not bad."
"What's not?"
"Seeing the ever-confident Go Jeong-ui get a little tense."
"I wasn't tense. I was just paying attention."
"Why? Overwhelmed by someone who follows you all the way to your calves?"
"No matter how smart someone is, they need proper preparation."
"And you're prepared?"
"Before you arrived, Master Lee Mun-jin read the heavens and told me I'd meet a new connection soon. He said to get ready to leave."
"It was all predestined?"
"Once I started following you, it all made sense. Why my teacher had me study military strategy and how to handle Central Administration Bureau documents."
It was a glimpse into National Academy Scholar Lee Mun-jin's wisdom. After the banquet ended, I exchanged greetings again with Go Yeonmu as he followed his brother out.
The next day, with departure looming, we gathered at Binyeon Pavilion for a meeting. In the midst of it, a group of Malgal tribesmen burst in. They didn't look like the barbaric leather-clad warriors from movies or dramas about Goguryeo. If they hadn't announced themselves as Malgal, I might not have even noticed. One with an angular face and slightly large eyes approached me. He looked to be in his late thirties.
"I'm Iri from Gaemo Fortress. Son of Governor O Mongju Inap."
It took a moment to jog my memory, but I recognized him.
"Is your son by any chance named Ibyeon?"
"H-How do you know that? About him."
Iri bared his yellowed teeth in astonishment.
'Of course I know. His grandson is Li Daozong.'
Li Daozong went from Right Guard General in the Tang to Right Guard Commander of the Imperial Guard. He took part in the coup that deposed Empress Wu Zetian.
Li Daozong was born in 654. His father was Ibyeon, Ibyeon's father was Iri, and Iri's father was Inap. A Malgal family that had held positions like Governor of Omongju and Governor of Hwangdo for generations.
'If Goguryeo hadn't fallen, they'd have kept those posts indefinitely.'
That thought quelled the sudden surge of resentment. Iri looked me up and down.
"You look like a weakling who couldn't kill a single man."
Geom Mojam bristled slightly at that, but I brushed it off.
"I don't need to see blood myself."
"Then do you kill with sorcery or something?"
"Not sorcery—with a gesture. For example."
I took a step back and glanced at Geom Mojam. He closed the distance in an instant, drawing his sword and aiming it at Iri's throat faster than anyone could react. His guards didn't even twitch. But Iri was no pushover; he didn't flinch a bit.
"They say Chang'an's warriors draw faster than lightning. Looks like it's true. But in battle, speed-drawing a sword doesn't win wars."
"That's why I called on you all. I ask others to handle what I need."
"People say you have the Celestial Maiden's favor."
"This is it."
I drew the blade of Jumong's spear from my belt and showed it to him.
"The blade of King Chumo, received from the shrine maiden of Liaodong Fortress."
"You carry a sacred relic. You'll go far."
"I'll become Jumong's spear, defending Goguryeo. Anything blocking my path gets smashed."
I glanced at Geom Mojam. He stepped back and sheathed his sword.
"Will you help me now?"
"And what do I get?"
"I'll help you keep your position. And I'll name your grandson."
"Grandson?"
"Yes. He'll be born in about twenty years."
"Makes sense. My son Ibyeon isn't even ten yet."
"Name him Daozong. Dao from 'abundant' and zong from 'fortune.'"
Iri grinned as he repeated the name a few times.
"Daozong. Sounds like it'll bring great fortune to our house. Thank you."
"We deploy in a few days. Rest up, and come here tomorrow for your mission briefing."
"I heard you've gathered generals from the frontiers, like General Onsamon of Buyeo Fortress."
"That's right. We've had no ties to your house before, but I'm assembling the capable."
"You're dreaming of a bigger war."
My preconception of Malgal as simple brutes shattered. Iri smirked, sensing he'd caught on.
"I learned to read in the government offices. And even after growing up, I kept a personal tutor."
"What you're saying now hardly counts as 'learned.'"
"Truth is, you learn more on the windy plains."
"Does the wind teach you?"
"Sure does. Watch where it blows, and you see how the world turns. We hold Goguryeo posts generation after generation, but we can't ignore the winds."
"Where's it blowing now?"
"Turned into a gale heading here. We weren't even called up, but I volunteered."
So he'd decided to join after seeing me. His initial snark was just a test.
With Iri the Malgal, the expedition force was complete. As we reviewed the plans down to the last detail, Ham-a arrived with craftsmen from Sui Captive Village.
They carried something wrapped in cloth. Peering at Hanja documents had worn me out, making me think we needed Hangul sooner. But like Choi Man-ri resisting King Sejong, there'd be backlash. So first, introduce Arabic numerals and multiplication tables—less resistance.
"What's this?"
Ham-a set the cloth on the table and unwrapped it without a word. Go Jeong-ui beside me gasped.
"Whoa!"
Ham-a had brought a magnificent helmet. Tall and pointed upward, with a red tassel on top. Red-painted wing guards over the ears, and a red nasal guard. The nasal featured a stylized well (井) pattern. The craftsmen behind brought armor: rectangular lamellae laced with leather, exquisitely crafted. The gorget had gold flame motifs.
"Try it on, sir. I was worried it'd be late."
Ham-a and the craftsmen helped me into the armor. It covered down to the ankles—probably for riding, protecting against enemy infantry. The red leather at armpit and waist matched Goguryeo murals. The final gift caught my eye.
"Those are horseshoe boots!"
In murals, Goguryeo heavy cavalry wore boots with hobnails on the soles—for stomping foes or gripping stirrups.
Ham-a chuckled.
"These might be uncomfortable, so wear them just for the first campaign."
As my aides admired how the helmet and armor suited me, Geom Mojam approached. He fastened a white-hilted sword to my belt. Up close, a dragon adorned the pommel ring. A ornate Hwandu greatsword from a Three Kingdoms tomb.
Geom Mojam grinned as he buckled it.
"If you ever need to draw it, call me. I'll handle it."
"Thanks."
If only there were cameras—we could've taken a group photo. The armor was heavy, the helmet pressing down. But a moment to cherish forever.
The day before departure, I was with my wife. Her belly was noticeably swollen now, and a wet nurse from the capital had joined us. With the elderly nurse there, my wife seemed much calmer. Seeing her like that eased my tension.
The nurse greeted me and stepped out. Exhausted, I collapsed onto the bed. A sigh escaped me. As I lay there, my wife sat beside me and asked,
"You look so tired."
"Too much to prepare."
"You'll ruin your health before the war even starts."
"Tell me about it. If I'd known it'd be this tough, I might've skipped the war."
I gave a weak laugh. She stroked my hair—a comfort I'd never known in my modern life. Wars, changing history—whatever. I just wanted to live happily with her. Block Father's coup, and we'd be set for life.
As I wrestled with that, she whispered,
"The baby's kicking. Eager to join the world, I guess."
If history held, it was our eldest son, Yeon Heonchung. After his father died, Yeon Namsaeng went on provincial tours, leaving him in the capital—where he was killed by his uncle Yeon Namgeon.
That death sparked civil war between Yeon Namsaeng and his brothers. When the tide turned, Yeon Namsaeng surrendered to Tang with his remaining son, Yeon Heonseong. A desperate choice, but it dragged the nation into ruin. And after all that struggling, he died in 679.
'What a waste.'
Yeon Heonseong, who surrendered with him, was framed and executed by Empress Wu Zetian.