Chapter 10
Chapter 10
The Iron Emperor — Chapter 10
Mukabul was one of the successors to the chieftain of the Maul Tribe, the largest of the orc tribes in the Reganza Mountains. And among orcs, his strategic brilliance was called the Orc God. Courage was a given, and he was a hero—the first among the Maul Tribe, no, the first among all orcs, to introduce formation warfare.
Mukabul, a revolutionary and strategist of the orcs, had previously halted a human knight order's lance charge using the same method, closing the distance to the chieftain's seat even further. The brave orcs who followed him numbered nearly half of the remaining force. As a result, out of the roughly four hundred remaining orcs, more than two hundred were rallying to Mukabul's cry.
"Kuit! Mukaelme saoren, hullaekaeme durande! (Kuit! Unite and live, scatter and die!)"
"Kwiiiik! Mukael! Mukael! (Kwiiiik! Unite! Unite!)"
"Kwiik, kkuik!"
"Kkui kkuik!"
Though only twenty-odd cavalrymen were charging, Mukabul knew all too well how powerful a human knight order could be. He looked with pity on the two hundred or so orcs who refused to follow him, and could barely contain his excitement at the thought of slaughtering the cavalry after they crashed into his formation.
"...They're skirting around."
Thud-thud-thud-thud-thud!
"...."
"...."
Thud-thud-thud-thud.
And yet....
The formation itself was solid, but by massing all the orcs in one place, Mukabul had left both flanks wide open and created an ideal corridor for cavalry to pass through. In other words, all the cavalry had to do was turn aside, and the remaining orcs became the perfect targets.
That was the limit of what orcs could grasp.
The truth was, even if every last one of them had bunched up, a cavalry force could simply ride around them. If they had spread wide, it might have been different. But they just kept packing themselves tighter into one spot—you didn't even need to imagine how much open space that left. Even if Mukabul himself couldn't comprehend it.
In the end, the slaughter of the orcs who had failed to unite began.
"Hiyaaat!"
Shrrrrak!
"Kwiiiiiii!"
SLASH!
"Kkwaeeeee!"
"Break straight through!"
Go Jin-cheon's Hwandudaedo split orcs apart with every swing, and those trampled by the war horses swam through the air. The lances of the Black Armored Ghost Cavalry following behind pierced through orc skulls without missing a beat. Watching Jin-cheon and his twenty-odd horsemen maneuver freely, Mukabul, the Orc God, raised his voice high and cried out.
"Aille! Niganwi gidaemaruderu. Nawaenmaruwi kalisumae tokkaren mosenmaru! (Behold! The humans' cavalry. See how they flee before our valor!)"
"Kwiiiik!"
"Kkuik!"
"Irugalni mukkaeme saoren, hullaekaeme duranden lugalnide! (This is what it means: unite and live, scatter and die!)"
"Kuit! Kkuik!"
"Orc assal! (Long live the orcs!)"
Watching the scene from the barricade, Uru was speechless for a moment. When the orcs began cheering during the lull in the assault, Buru found it strange and climbed up to the barricade.
"What're they babblin' about?"
"Dunno. Their own side's gettin' wiped while they bunch up tighter, and they're happy 'bout it. How'm I s'posed to know?"
"So they're pigs you can't reason with after all. What're you waitin' for?"
"Tch."
The massed orcs were a perfect target. Seeing a target you could hit blindfolded, Buru urged him on, and Uru smacked his lips before issuing orders to the village youths, who were still standing there slack-jawed.
"Loose!"
Ting! Ting-ting!
WHIZZ!
Only then, the instant Uru's command fell, did the arrows begin to fly. Jin-cheon's Black Armored Ghost Cavalry was already off on the flank, reaping orcs, and the massed orcs—failing to even notice the rain of arrows beginning to fall from the sky—were entirely absorbed in brandishing their weapons at the sky and cheering at the top of their lungs.
WHIZZ! THWACK-THWACK!
"Kuit!"
"Kkueeeek!"
THWACK-THWACK-THWACK! THWACK-THWACK!
"Kkuhik bikan niganmaru hwasel ttawiru....... (Kkuhik, cowardly humans... with mere arrows....)"
The pouring arrows struck home without a single miss, precisely because the orcs were bunched together. But Mukabul only sneered.
Mukabul raised one arm and began issuing rapid orders. His brilliant intellect began directing the most efficient shift in tactics.
"Hullaekaera! (Scatter!)"
"Kkuiiik!"
At Mukabul's command, the orcs scattered with seamless discipline, dodging the arrows. To the orcs, Mukabul was both a valorous general and a wise commander.
"...."
"G-General."
"Turn about at full speed."
Go Jin-cheon had seen countless battles, but never a sight so utterly baffling, and he had no words for it. Only because a deputy officer spoke to him was he able to shake his head and give an order. First, they obligingly bunched up and left his cavalry a wide-open path. And now, after his breakthrough, they obligingly scattered and made themselves easy pickings for his horsemen. Wasn't that exactly what was happening?
That was the limit of the great strategist Mukabul.
"Yiaaaaaa!"
WHOOSH! SLASH!
"Kkueeeek!"
Crunch!
"Kkuul!"
The Ghost Cavalry, with Jin-cheon now at its head after turning about, shifted into an awl-shaped wedge and punched clean through the orcs. Instantly, Mukabul's quick voice rang out.
"Mukkaera! (Unite!)"
Rumble-rumble.
"Send more arrows!"
Swoosh-swoosh-swoosh!
"Hullaekaera! (Scatter!)"
Rumble-rumble.
"Turn about!"
In this fashion, the orcs cycled endlessly: whenever Jin-cheon broke through and wheeled around, they would mass back up and feed themselves to the archers, and whenever the arrows rained down, they would scatter and feed themselves to the Black Armored Ghost Cavalry. It finally ended when Uru's arrow claimed Mukabul's life and Hwi-garam's follow-up force swept in and scattered the rest.
"Kuit tokkaera! (Kuit flee!)"
"Kwiiik!"
Watching the orcs disperse into the distance and vanish, Uru and Buru caught their breath and took in their surroundings.
"Assal! Assal! (Hooray! Hooray!)"
"Assal! (Hooray!)"
The village youths, delivered from despair, shouted in triumph, pouring out the joy that only survivors may taste. The rest of the villagers, too, rejoiced as if they had already forgotten the massacre of mere hours before, bowing their heads over and over to Uru and Buru's soldiers who had defended them.
Beron had already told them these men were probably not a subjugation force, and the image of barely twenty fighters who did not retreat before more than five hundred orcs had branded itself deep into the minds of a people who had known only victimhood.
"Buru. (Thank you.)"
"Ull Buru. (Thank you so much.)"
"Assal shailu! Ulle Buru. (Hooray, I'm alive! Truly, thank you.)"
Buru looked upon the villagers chanting his name with a satisfied expression and spoke to Uru.
"See that. I'm the one they love."
Uru clicked his tongue at Buru preening.
"Yeah, well, next time maybe I shoulda just swung an axe...."
Uru firmly believed the only reason the villagers hadn't noticed him was because he'd used a bow.
Go Jin-cheon, surveying the surroundings still heavy with the acrid tang of blood, slowly rode his horse into the makeshift barricade.
"Salute!"
Clang-clang-clang!
Clop, clop, clop.
"...."
Jin-cheon rode through the saluting ranks of the Black Armored Ghost Cavalry, his gaze sweeping over the villagers. Their hair ranged from brown through red to blond. In short, every color imaginable.
But the single thing they all shared was the terror of the battlefield. After a brief look around the settlement, Jin-cheon concluded that this village was not part of any official nation—it was more likely a slash-and-burn farmers' hamlet or a village founded by drifters. The proof was right there: even as these people cheered, a glint of unease toward the soldiers lingered in the corners of their eyes.
"Hwi-garam. Casualties?"
"Sir. One war horse dead, and two men from the Ghost Cavalry advance scout suffered light wounds. Nothing else."
"Hwi-garam, rally the men. We're returning."
As Jin-cheon spoke and began to turn his horse, Buru, who had been fooling around with Sara off to one side, came running over with wide eyes.
"General, we're just leavin'?"
"Yes."
As the two commanders' voices crossed and the horses turned, curiosity bloomed in the eyes of Sara and the other villagers. And as the soldiers gathered their weapons and began mounting up, that curiosity rapidly shifted into mounting fear. Buru swept his eyes once over Sara and the villagers, then spoke to Jin-cheon again.
"General, look at 'em. If we just leave 'em like this, these folks won't survive."
"And?"
"We gotta take 'em with us."
Hwi-garam, standing beside them, cut in as Buru spoke with eyes full of incomprehension.
"Of course, we can take them, as you say. We don't know the local situation right now, so it would be good to take them along, put them to work, and get their help with our surroundings. For now, food can be managed—fish from the lake, hunting."
"That's right!"
"Exactly!"
To Buru and Uru's chorus of agreement, Hwi-garam responded with a complicated look on his face.
"But look at them."
"What... what d'you mean, sir?"
"...."
The light in the eyes of the villagers Hwi-garam pointed to was dead. They felt gratitude to the soldiers who had protected them. But facing the fresh corpses of the dead, unease was already sprouting again. And right now, the soldiers' every movement was feeding that unease.
If Jin-cheon wanted to take these people as slaves, it would be possible. But given the camp's circumstances, such slaves could easily become poison. In short, these were human beings stripped of their will.
"Summon the interpreter."
"Gurajaengi! Get over here!"
"Yes, sir!"
At Go Jin-cheon's order, Eulji Uru bawled for Gye Ung-sam. Ung-sam, who had been tending to the wounded while translating speech, sprinted over like the wind and saluted.
"Bring me Beron and this village's headman."
"Yep."
A moment later, an elder and Beron approached Jin-cheon with soldiers escorting them. Jin-cheon, still mounted, fixed his eyes on them for a moment.
"Translate everything I say from now on."
"Yes, sir."
"We are leaving now."
"Nawaenmaru... jigen tolluende. (We... are going back now.)"
When Ung-sam haltingly conveyed Jin-cheon's words, the elder headman's and Beron's faces drained of color. Yes, the orc horde had somehow been repelled, but the village's barricades were completely smashed, and their self-defense force was nearly all dead. For Jin-cheon's party to leave now meant utter despair. The headman, now desperate, spoke in an imploring tone.
"Jigen tolluende-nu onawaenmaruen alluge rukka. (If you leave now, what are we to do?)"
"Right... what he's asking is, if we go back now, what's going to happen to them?"
At Ung-sam's translation, Jin-cheon let out a short, breathy scoff and answered.
"Protect your own lives yourselves."
"Uwaenmaru mesuen uwaenmaru.... (Your lives yourselves....)"
Ung-sam translated, gripping his sword to pantomime the meaning of defending themselves. Despair flooded the villagers' eyes alongside growing agitation.
"Onawaenmaruderu jikimige-ruo. (Please protect us.)"
"They're asking us to protect them, General."
"Buru. When you arrived earlier, where were these people?"
Jin-cheon's face went cold as he fired the question at Buru. When Buru hesitantly reported that the victims in front of the village had been left to their fate while the rest hid in dugout shelters, a sneer settled on Jin-cheon's cold features.
"Do you wish to become slaves?"
"Sir?"
"Translate it."
"Yes... Royenga garuyell-i? (Will you become slaves?)"
The moment the translation ended, Beron and the headman's faces turned pale.
These were people who had fled here to escape a life little better than slavery and to break free from the yoke itself. And now they were being asked to become slaves....... Watching their stricken expressions, Jin-cheon spoke in a low voice.
"You cannot ever be more than slaves! We are people who live to protect our nation, our families, and our people! We did not take up swords to protect people like you—people who would entrust their own lives to strangers!"
"Sa... saoril.... (S... spare....)"
The thunder of Jin-cheon's voice made the headman's legs buckle, dropping him to the ground, and everyone watching bowed their heads, crying out only to have their lives spared.
Buru's face twisted fiercely at the sight. He could understand the weak, but he could not abide cowards. Slowly, Ung-sam's translation continued. And when it was done, the voice rang out again.
"You abandoned your own nation and came here. Am I wrong! This land is your nation alone! Do you not understand that your nation is for you to protect! You summoned mercenaries far beyond your means, and your families and kin died because you lacked the strength to accept what came with that! You should have bought swords and armor with that coin instead! A nation protected by borrowed power always falls."
"...."
Jin-cheon's words came through Ung-sam, and those trembling in fear began to remember their dead, remembering that they had died because of their own weakness. It struck them as the sorrow of the weak.
"Now, I ask once more. Will you become slaves, serve as the soldiers' sexual playthings, grow their food, and live out your days that way? Or will you take up a sword and change your fate—and your families'!"
As the translation filtered through, murmuring rippled among the people. Slowly turning his horse, Jin-cheon cast out one last line.
"If you take up the sword, you will become my people. My family."
"...!"
Hwi-garam's eyes flew wide, and so did the eyes of every soldier present.
"We are returning. Withdraw the army."
"All forces, withdraw!"
Clang!
As the reply rang out, the scrape of breastplates and spears seemed to resonate louder and deeper than before.
The soldiers had glimpsed a light.
No one, unless he were a fool, could mistake this place—with its three moons and strange beasts roaming about—for their homeland. And even if they did return to their homeland, they were men who had nothing left. What Jin-cheon had just said last had become a purpose.
"Nawaen seuwodeuderu gebideru. Dere nawaenga durado hwemillon gadieorukka? (I will take up the sword. Then even if I die, will you protect my family?)"
"Abang! (Papa!)"
"Yuron abang! (Papa Yuron!)"
Go Jin-cheon stopped his horse. The trembling voice of the man from behind, and the voices of the child and the woman—they had caught him. Turning his head back, he saw the man standing there holding a long sword that some dead mercenary had used. His form was beyond clumsy, but the resolve to protect the child and wife behind him was plain to see.
Neigh! Clank.
"...."
Step. Step. Step.
Jin-cheon dismounted and walked toward the man. With every step, the man's hands on the long sword trembled, and even the shaking in his legs was evident. Jin-cheon's aura was that of a war god roaming the battlefield. It would have been stranger if he could take it unperturbed.
"General, I'll translate."
When Jin-cheon halted before the awkwardly standing man, Ung-sam came running to translate, but Jin-cheon raised a hand.
"No need."
The deathly presence Jin-cheon exuded had driven the child and the wife to the ground, wetting themselves, and the man with the long sword, too, had tears brimming in his eyes from sheer terror. Seeing this, Jin-cheon drew back his presence and chuckled softly.
"Heh. Your grip is terrible."
Seureuk.
"Ah!"
Jin-cheon adjusted the man's hands on the sword. The man let out a short sound. It was less a gasp of admiration and more a sigh of relief at being released from the earlier terror.
"A sword...."
"Ye... yein! (Y... yes!)"
"...is held like this."
The man couldn't understand Jin-cheon's words as he corrected his grip, but he could grasp the meaning behind them. Looking the man squarely in the eye, Jin-cheon poured his will into every word, searing them into the man's mind.
"Now that you hold a sword, do not think of dying. If you have decided to take up the sword, your first objective is to live. Only then can you protect your family."
"Yein! (Yes!)"
The man answered at the top of his lungs, even with tears welling in his eyes. Jin-cheon stroked the head of the boy who had collapsed behind the man, then spoke once more.
"Do not forget what your father looked like today. The next sword will be yours to take up."
"Ye... yein. (Y... yes.)"
The words did not cross the barrier of language, but the boy could understand what Jin-cheon meant to tell him.