Chapter 358
Chapter 358
Iron Emperor — Chapter 358
Santare's account was so vivid that anyone listening would have mistaken him for someone who had just swung a sword on the battlefield itself.
"When I first cut through the retreating troops like a fish fighting its way upstream, I thought I'd lost my mind. But then—what do you know!"
"They didn't retreat?"
"It wasn't simply that they'd fallen behind. Walter and I, watching the enemy lines from that distance, could see it plainly."
At Santare's words, Black Whale Walter, seated beside him, nodded vigorously in agreement.
Gerard's face, as he listened to their report, wore the expression of a child eager for the next part of a story. He had been swept into Santare's world along with him.
"This isn't some tavern storyteller's performance..."
Santare, spitting as he talked; Walter, chiming in with interjections like a traditional accompanist; Gerard and the other pirate fleet commanders, completely absorbed in the tale...
Anyone watching would have called it a perfect tavern scene. Jang Bogo clicked his tongue at the sight of them, then cleared his throat and cut in.
"This is meant to be a report, so perhaps just the essentials—"
"That was when I realized it! 'That bastard's about to pull something!' I thought. And sure enough, the moment he drew that red greatsword the size of a man's torso!"
"The moment!"
"Come on, don't keep us in suspense!"
"......"
They let Bogo's words go in one ear and out the other, lost in their own world. Bogo gave up trying to persuade them and simply listened to Santare's story.
"The Empire Coalition soldiers who swarmed the man with the red greatsword were chopped to pieces in droves—it was truly a magnificent sight!"
"Hoh!"
"How is that possible!"
Santare even put on an expression of genuine amazement, and the other fleet commanders changed their own expressions from moment to moment, letting out exclamations.
But Gerard, who had been listening among them, let out no exclamation at all.
No—his face had gone rigid.
"Did you say a red greatsword?"
"Yes."
At Gerard's question, Walter beside him nodded.
"They said he was swinging something the size of a man's torso. Said whatever it touched got cut clean through—monstrous strength. And it didn't end there. The Empire Coalition commander got split completely in half, from the head right down to the crotch!"
"Damn it! Don't tell me..."
"What's the matter?"
As Gerard's expression hardened, the pirate captains, who had been so relaxed moments before, all straightened in their seats.
His mood had turned unmistakably grim.
Even Santare, who had been so enthusiastically spinning his tale, now wore a cautious expression and watched for cues.
"If he was the Empire Coalition commander, he was Marquis Millium's prized disciple. And he was split in two?"
"One sword stroke sent him reeling, horse and all. He couldn't withstand the third blow—"
"Count Selmier was definitely reported to have taken the field as commander. If even he was shattered in three blows, that means he's at least a master-level warrior counted among the Ten of the Continent!"
At Gerard's words, the pirates' faces grew even stiffer.
The weight the name "Master" carried for these men was different from what it meant to the Gauri soldiers like Jang Bogo. To them, a Master was recognized as a being beyond human. Bogo tilted his head at Gerard's excessive reaction.
"Even so, that seems an overreaction."
"Damn it. If it were just some master-rank fighter popping up out of nowhere, that'd be fortunate. But to my knowledge, there is exactly one man on this continent who swings a red greatsword the size of a man's torso."
As Gerard spoke with a scowl, Santare, who had been watching the mood, put on an awkward smile and opened his mouth.
"Surely not."
"Why? Is there someone you've got in mind?"
At Santare's words, Walter rolled his large eyes and asked.
"A red greatsword and master-rank—doesn't anyone come to mind?"
"......Hmm."
Santare looked at Walter—who, after a face full of deep thought, had boldly declared he had no idea—with an expression of profound disappointment, then turned back toward Gerard.
"If it's the man the Commander-in-Chief is thinking of, isn't he someone who never shows his face in the empires' wars?"
"Who is this man you've been talking about, and just how formidable is he to make you react like this?"
Bogo directed his question at Gerard, who was frowning at Santare's cautious query.
After a moment, Gerard let out a sigh and spoke.
"A red greatsword, a red cloak, and enough strength to subdue in an instant a warrior said to be nearing Master rank—then it can only be Koyo Blamir."
"Mercenary King..."
At Gerard's words, the pirates quietly murmured the name "Mercenary King," their faces dark.
At their reaction, Bogo too hardened his expression and pricked up his ears.
"The problem isn't simply that he's powerful. He has nearly forty thousand seasoned mercenaries under him, men who have fought wars across the continent."
At Gerard's words, Bogo could not help but rise reflexively from his seat. Intelligence suggesting that forty thousand elite soldiers—not mere conscripts—might be added to the Holy Empire's side was not something he could simply let pass unheard.
* * *
As Gowin's report, delivered in a tone laden with worry, came to an end, Go Jin-cheon slowly nodded his head.
"It seems a force of that size appearing anew could significantly alter the situation."
"That's right."
The report that a force rivaling the Gauri troops led by Go Jin-cheon in number had joined the enemy was no small variable. Perhaps because of that, Yeon Hwi-garam, at Jin-cheon's side, kept his silence as well.
"Aren't we already mounted on the tiger's back now anyway?"
Eulji Uru spoke coldly. Then he looked around, picked up his bow, and continued with killing intent in his voice.
"I'll plant an arrow right in that bastard Blamir's skull."
"Heh."
Jin-cheon chuckled at Uru's bold declaration. Beside him, Hwi-garam smiled as well.
"Still, it's fortunate. That we learned of it in advance."
"It is."
Seeing the two of them smile even in a situation that could have turned far graver, Gowin could not help but smile along with them. Smiling together, Gowin looked around.
Uru, who did not betray the pain of losing his brother. Gye Ung-sam, whom he had first met. Buyeo Gi-yul, Samdopyo, and Mong Ryu-hwa—always bickering with one another, yet more reliable than anyone else.
And Hailon, who had started out as a mere slash-and-burn farmer but had now become a renowned commander no one could dismiss—all of them were smiling.
Their smiles always contained one thing.
Faith, confidence, trust.
With these men beside him, Gowin lived as though the word “defeat” did not exist. He could stand proud anywhere. That was why he smiled: he too was a proud commander of Gauri...
"In any case, we know, and the enemy does not."
Jin-cheon spoke through his smile.
The commanders nodded as if in agreement with his words.
"It is true that our forces are numerically inferior to the Holy Empire's. Nor can I claim that the quality of our troops is overwhelmingly superior. Of course, it is a fact that the wars we have fought have forged a strong army... but even so."
Jin-cheon's point was that no matter how high the quality of the soldiers, it was not enough to bridge a vast disparity in numbers.
That point was an undeniable fact.
There is a limit to how much the quality of troops can compensate for numerical inferiority. That, precisely, is why tactics exist.
At Jin-cheon's words, Hwi-garam quietly voiced his agreement and continued.
"Isn't knowing oneself the path to victory in war?"
Jin-cheon nodded at his words. But there was something else he truly meant to say.
"However... what I have just spoken of is the general case."
As he mentioned the general case, the smile faded from Jin-cheon's expression, and a fierce intensity began to settle over his features.
An expression that said he would never accept defeat.
Even the arrogance of a man certain of his own strength showed on his face. At this subtle shift in expression, Gowin and Hailon began to tense slightly.
"From this moment, we reorganize the army."
"What?"
"Your Majesty, what do you mean by that!"
Several commanders stared at him with startled eyes. Even Gowin, who rarely showed surprise, shifted in his seat.
Reorganizing an army that was no mere handful of soldiers was no simple matter. After a reorganization, retraining also took considerable time. To reorganize the army and train it anew while they were racing forward without rest, having prepared way stations in advance precisely to save time, was difficult to comprehend.
Jin-cheon silenced the startled commanders with a single raised hand.
The commanders, having recovered from their momentary shock, each thought, 'There must be a reason!' and refocused, waiting expectantly for Jin-cheon's next words.
"When great armies clash, we must exploit to the utmost the factor that decides victory and defeat. Not mere strength—overwhelming strength. That is what we must demonstrate in this war."
At Jin-cheon's words, Gowin could only wear an expression of deepening incomprehension. Only Hwi-garam, smiling faintly, seemed to have grasped something of Jin-cheon's intent.
"I will inform you of the details of the reorganization tomorrow morning before our departure. Hwi-garam will remain. The rest of you, return to your respective encampments and rest for tomorrow."
"Understood."
With that single remark, Jin-cheon concluded the council without further explanation. Gowin and the other commanders all withdrew, tilting their heads and carrying their curiosity with them.
"Let's have some tea."
Inside the now-quiet command tent after everyone had gone.
Jin-cheon spoke to Hwi-garam in a leisurely voice. At his suggestion to have tea, Hwi-garam stared blankly at him.
"Where is the tea?"
Jin-cheon was proposing they drink tea when there was no tea.
"We'll have to brew it."
"......"
Leaving Jin-cheon behind, arms folded and showing no sign of moving after saying they would have to brew it, Hwi-garam sighed and began preparing the tea. Whether he had heard the quiet sigh or not, Jin-cheon began muttering things like, 'If you don't like it, you be Yeolje instead.'
When Hwi-garam set the teacup, warm steam curling upward, before Jin-cheon, Jin-cheon lifted it with a satisfied smile.
Gulp. Clack.
"Kaaah."
"......"
He hadn't even attempted to savor the tea's deep fragrance.
He simply downed the steaming-hot tea in one breath and wore a contented smile. Watching him, Hwi-garam poured more from the pot into his cup.
"Starting tomorrow, we proceed under this order of battle."
As he lifted the refilled cup, Jin-cheon drew a bundle of papers from his breast and set it down. Hwi-garam looked back and forth between the crumpled bundle of papers Jin-cheon had produced and Jin-cheon himself.
Clack.
"Pwah. Something warm is good."
Jin-cheon had downed another cup of tea in a single breath, then this time poured tea into his own cup himself. Hwi-garam, who had been quietly watching his actions, carefully unfolded the papers.
Slurp.
"......"
Only the sound of Jin-cheon gulping his tea and the rustle of paper as Hwi-garam turned the pages filled the tent.
With lips pressed firmly shut, Hwi-garam let his gaze travel across the order of battle Jin-cheon had drawn up, page by page. No—more precisely, he was looking at the traces of deliberation Jin-cheon had left behind.
Ink that looked long since dried upon the crumpled, wrinkled paper.
And the marks where lines had been revised again and again revealed Jin-cheon's agony. During all that looking and looking again, the paper must have become this crumpled. And yet, he would have been careful with it even so.
Hwi-garam raised his head and looked at Jin-cheon.
Glug-glug.
As if he were drinking liquor, Jin-cheon kept refilling his cup with tea.
The expression on Jin-cheon's face as he silently filled his own cup was different from the look he always wore when he asked for Hwi-garam's opinion on an operation.
In every major operation, Hwi-garam's opinion had always been decisive. But this matter was something even Hwi-garam was hearing for the first time.
"I'm sorry."
Perhaps sensing Hwi-garam's gaze, Jin-cheon's tightly shut lips opened with difficulty, and the word slipped out. At his apology, Hwi-garam slowly shook his head and spoke in a low voice.
"A decision you have already made. I will follow it."
"Thank you."
At Jin-cheon's words, Hwi-garam downed the tea sitting before him in one breath and set the cup down on the table with a clatter.
Clack.
He was doing something he would never normally do. It was easy to see that his action had imitated Jin-cheon's. Just like that, he poured himself more tea, back to back, and drank it down in a single breath like liquor—two more times.
"Hoo. It's hot."
Perhaps because the tea had not cooled enough, Hwi-garam winced and stuck his tongue out slightly. Jin-cheon gave him a deep smile.
It had always been like this.
Whenever he chose to follow the path Jin-cheon wished to walk, whether that meant stooping to something base or behaving like a fiend, he followed without hesitation. No—more often, he had taken the lead.
"It is hot."
Jin-cheon spoke as he filled Hwi-garam's empty cup with tea once more.
Gazing at the tea being poured, Hwi-garam slowly opened his mouth.
"If you ordered me to force my body through the eye of the smallest needle, I would do it. If you ordered me to run along the edge of a blade, I would do it. If you ordered me to tear raw flesh from the dead and fill my belly with it, I would obey."
As Hwi-garam uttered this vow, Jin-cheon's smile deepened. Hwi-garam's eyes glittered as he looked at him.
"That is precisely..."
Their gazes met. After a brief pause, Hwi-garam finished the sentence beneath that shared gaze.
"...the Black Armored Ghost Cavalry."
In days long past.
The old oath of the Black Armored Ghost Cavalry—the men who had once fought with the battlefield itself as their blanket—was sounding again in Hwi-garam's voice.