Samsara
Goguryeo, 665 AD.
"CHARGE—!"
In the dead hours before dawn, under a wind sharp enough to cut skin, nearly a thousand soldiers crashed forward like a wave.
The front line—all cavalry—spewed a murderous aura as it trampled every living thing caught beneath their hooves.
With a roar, the infantry and archers scrambled to keep pace behind them.
UUUAAAARGH!!!
Great banners snapped and billowed between the ranks of soldiers.
A single character was written across each one.
Tang. .
In the wake of the soldiers lay the corpses of beasts and wild animals stacked upon one another. Every so often, a human body could be seen among them.
Startled by the thunder of hooves and the soldiers' battle cries, birds scattered in every direction.
A man-made disaster that rivaled any act of nature was bearing down on a single place.
And two men watched its approach from behind a wooden palisade.
"Hyung-nim! Those Tang bastards are just waltzing right in—what do we do? Should we run?"
Despite having his hair tied up in a topknot, strands of it were sticking out all over the place—the man, Ga Namil, spoke first.
"Whoa, whoa. Run? Run where, you little punk? Just watch. Your hyung here is going to scare the piss out of these Tang bastards and send 'em all the way back home."
"Ha, shit, Mujin, you hyung—!"
"Watch your mouth. When have you ever seen me lose? I'm the great hero who defended an entire village single-handedly, that's who."
Ga Namil eyed Mujin's chest-thumping bravado with distaste—then suddenly frowned as if remembering something.
"...Didn't you say back then you just took out a few scouts?"
"You cheeky little... talking back to your elders...?"
"Shit. Age before beauty, hyung. Age before beauty."
"Then be born earlier next time."
"Tch."
While Mujin and Namil bickered back and forth, a vast surge of energy began to press in around the palisade.
Apparently, there was no more time for idle banter.
"We'll finish this later—go hold your position. His Majesty granted you an actual title. You slack off on your duties, what's the point?"
"Hyung, seriously, keep this up and you're gonna die. No, seriously—the castle lord already abandoned the fortress and fled, and now you want to fight a siege from a village? How does that work?"
"That's why I built the palisade, didn't I? And the watchtowers? Shoot arrows from up top and it's fuckin' curtains for every last one of 'em."
"That's exactly why I'm saying it's insane! We could just run, you absolute—! And even then, anyone with real skill will just deflect the arrows with their martial arts anyway, won't they?!"
"You think I don't know that? I'll deal with those bastards myself, so quit yapping and go command your men."
"Yes, yes~ shit, this is gross, I'm going, I'm going~"
"Ahh, that little punk. Used to call me 'hyung-nim' so respectfully, and now he's trying to be my friend."
Mujin muttered to himself as he watched Ga Namil walk off, deliberately stomping and grumbling loudly to voice his displeasure.
Was that really the same kid who'd trailed after him five years ago, sniveling and begging to be taught martial arts? He had his doubts—but given the circumstances, he had no choice but to shake off the stray thoughts.
'I'll have to whip that insolence out of him one of these days. Assuming we both survive long enough, that is.'
With a thousand Tang soldiers bearing down on them right this moment, even someone at the very edge of the First-Rate realm—me, in other words—honestly wasn't all that confident.
If an army that size had been a peasant militia, it might have been worth a fight. But I'd raised my inner sight and examined them carefully. From their layered armor on down, they were practically shouting, We're the regular army~
Then again. A peasant militia wouldn't be marching around with hundreds of cavalry, would it.
By contrast, our side—after conscripting from the surrounding villages no less—barely mustered a little over two hundred.
We were lucky to have raided the nearby villages for recruits; if I'd drawn only from the village under my own rule, fifty would have been a stretch, never mind a hundred.
'If only the castle lord and the other prefects hadn't run, this wouldn't have been such a lopsided fight.'
The castle lord had retreated—supposedly—and hauled off every last soldier in the fortress, and that was how things had come to this.
'We fall back to the rendezvous point, then crush them in one sweeping blow alongside the surrounding generals! We withdraw only out of necessity, that we may claim victory!'—that was his grand speech as he ran away with his tail between his legs.
'Fall back to the rendezvous point and crush them,' my ass. In practice, he'd written off this entire region.
And because he'd dressed his flight up in such a plausible declaration of retreat, the nearby prefects felt no shame in bolting right along with him.
Slipping away with only the troops stationed in their own villages, of course.
Naturally, the fortress and the villages around it were left without a single man to defend them, fated to die with a squeak the moment the Tang soldiers cried 'Die!'
And so, with every official having fled, I'd been shoved—half by force—into the role of regional commander. A sad little story, that.
What remained to me, then, was two hundred militiamen and Ga Namil, who'd spent my entire career scraping up the crumbs of my achievements right beside me.
It was cold comfort knowing that Namil could at least use martial arts, but with skills that were second-rate at best, I expected nothing from him.
'Namil. What on earth did you learn from me for five whole years...?'
Musing on how best to use—no, train—Namil going forward, Mujin leapt up onto the palisade.
The Tang army had already arrived directly in front of them.
Setting his foot on one of the sharpened stakes and crouching on one knee, he could see the vanguard cavalry—the tip of the Tang spear—already rearing and snorting around the entrance, one breath away from charging.
Unable in good conscience to send men who'd traveled so far from their homeland straight back the way they came, he cupped both hands halfway together and raised them to his mouth.
"Honorable gentlemen of Tang~ What a long journey you've had. You must be so weary~!"
"Duolgyeok! Duol—what in the... what is that Eastern savage?"
The thousand-man commander, who'd been bellowing the charge, abruptly fell silent.
Some insolent young whelp had addressed them in a tone dripping with mockery.
"Oh my! It's the great commander himself! Have you eaten? Have you eaten well, I wonder?"
"Is that creature not simply mad? A man speaking like a woman! An insult! An insult, I say!"
"Aww, Commander~ so what if a man uses a woman's manner of speech~? Do calm yourself and let's share a cup of tea!"
"Tea? Did you just say tea? Hahahaha! Even a passing dog wouldn't laugh at that! Do Eastern savages have the coin to buy tea?"
"I scraped together every coin I don't have just to serve you, our dear commander! Heheh. So don't be like that—if you'll just look kindly on me and pass quietly this once—"
"Silence. You dare block this one's path? I shall carve the limbs from your body."
"Mm. Yeah, that's not landing. Fuck."
"?"
At Mujin's sudden shift in demeanor, the thousand-man commander's face went utterly blank.
Was this the same man who'd been offering up tea a moment ago? Normally, wouldn't he escalate to a larger bribe?
Such questions naturally drifted through the thousand-man commander's mind.
Sensing the bewilderment on his face, Mujin curled the corners of his mouth upward.
Flattery had never been on the table. The plan, from the start, had been simply to provoke them—enough to knock the enemy out of any cold, calculated approach to the battle.
A future in which they turned around saying, 'Ah, lovely tea here~ we'll come again next time! Haha,' obviously did not exist.
Holding those thoughts inside, he kept hammering away at the thousand-man commander.
"I put on the whole show for you, didn't I? Played the woman, played the groveling servant—so all you had to do was take your bow and move along. Instead this son of a bitch wants to run his mouth even when I'm spoon-feeding him?"
"What? This... this whelp...!"
"'This whelp'? If you're going to open your mouth, at least finish the thought. I've known Tang bastards were empty-headed since forever, but you really haven't changed a bit since the old days, have you? I'm turning thirty next year and I'm already on edge, and you just love rattling my nerves, don't you. You. You're the first one I'm killing. Fuck."
"Why, you insolent—!"
He spat words so fast it was as if he'd wrapped his mouth in inner power itself—and then, sensing the moment had come, he gave the order.
"Hey, boys, what're you waiting for~ Turns out our dear commander would rather taste arrows than tea~ Light those arrowheads up and feed him a nice hot, hearty helping~!"
"SIR, YES SIR!"
At Mujin's command, the young men crouched in hiding behind the palisade sprang up in unison.
Each was dressed differently, but they shared one thing in common: their clothes were all cheap hemp, the kind that cost next to nothing.
At the sight of a militia that looked thrown together at the last possible second, the Tang soldiers jeered.
"What is this, a beggars' brigade? Khek!"
"Hey now. Mind your words. The beggars might hear you and take offense. Heh heh."
"Hm? You lot see beggars when you look at them?"
"What? What else would they be—beggars, not lords?"
"All I see is a pack of scrawny swine."
KEHAHAHAHAHAT!
The Tang soldiers roared with laughter at their own banter.
Honestly, it was funny enough that I nearly laughed too.
Was that pig guy a former court jester or something? Hilarious bastard.
But as if the Tang soldiers' laughter hadn't reached them at all, the militiamen went steadily about setting their arrowheads alight, faces set with grim resolve.
Screeeeeech—!
At last, Ga Namil was the first to draw his bowstring, and the village militiamen began to follow his lead.
"LOOSE!"
At Nam-il's command, the militiamen released the strings they'd drawn to their fullest.
Shushushushushuk!
It was more than enough arrows to turn the Tang soldiers' laughter into screams.
"Khek...! All of you, charge! Do not fall back—press close to the palisade and their arrows cannot find you!"
The thousand-man commander's judgment was sound, but the soldiers who'd been laughing and jeering mere moments ago couldn't respond to his order in time.
"KKEOEOEOK!"
"UAAAARGH! Fire! I'm on fireee!"
"Khek... kkeohk...!"
The result: most of the fire arrows struck home, and worse, the flames leapt from man to man, multiplying the damage.
"HAHAHAHA! Well? Isn't the taste of arrows simply exquisite?"
"GO TO HEEEELL!"
"FUCK YOUUU!"
"KEUAAAAAH! I WILL KILL YOU!"
"By all means, give it your best."
Shriing!
Drawing his sword in one fluid motion, Mujin leapt down from the palisade toward the thousand-man commander, whose face had gone scarlet.
Seeing him come, the commander drew his own blade just as swiftly.
CHAENG!
Their blades, each charged with inner power, collided—and the shockwave flung several nearby soldiers backward through the air.
"I took you for all mouth, but you've got some skill after all!"
"You looked weak, so I took you for a weakling—but you've got some skill after all!"
"I'll kill you!"
In that instant, the blade locked against the thousand-man commander's sheared away at an angle. A technique of holding the bind for a heartbeat, then releasing one's strength entirely and letting the enemy's blade slide off.
The balance of force broke in a flash, and Mujin's stance crumbled into something awkward. The commander's blade shrieked as it rode up along Mujin's sword.
KAGAGAGAGAK!
Watching a blade arrive at my throat in the span of a breath, I felt the hairs on my head stand on end. And in that very same instant, I curled my lips upward.
Because the conditions to unleash my talent had finally been met.
I deliberately drained all strength from my sword arm and let the blade go slack. The commander's sword, riding up along mine, now plunged not toward my throat but toward the dirt. His eyes flooded with confusion.
The moment I saw that confusion register, I wound my blade around his. After that, nothing special—just as he had done to me, my blade now rode along his, seeking his throat.
SHAAAAK!
"Khek...!"
As the blade came slicing in with a sound like a cold wind cutting the air, the thousand-man commander groaned and erupted with inner power.
Mujin's eyes flew wide, and he instantly retracted his sword and sprang backward.
PA-ANG!
The shockwave around the thousand-man commander's body rang out before Mujin had even finished resetting his stance.
Generating a gale like that from simply venting inner power meant the man's realm was far from ordinary.
Had I pressed the attack instead of giving it up, my sword arm, at the very least, would unquestionably have been shattered.
"A pity. I did so want to hear you scream."
A swordsmanship at the very peak of the First-Rate realm, with inner power that overflowed past his own body and warped the air around him. He was beyond my realm—no question about it.
Realizing this, I immediately began pouring my inner power into my blade, wrapping it like a sheath.
Geomsword qi—the Sword Qi that manifested only upon reaching the First-Rate realm.
"Ho! It has been a long while since I have seen such a refined Sword Qi!"
Watching the thousand-man commander exclaim in admiration, Mujin's face twisted into a deep scowl. Because he didn't like it one bit.
If he'd learned martial arts just a little sooner, or trained in a far better environment, he was confident he could have manifested Sword Qi several times finer than this. And yet—this was all he had.
To bury that burning resentment, he flared his Sword Qi even larger.
"Since you have shown me such splendid qi, this one shall show you something wondrous in return."
The thousand-man commander's inner power converged into his blade like water down a drain, and in an instant, the Sword Qi began to clump together. The condensed qi became Sword Gang before their eyes, radiating light.
At the sight, I felt my brain—the part busy calculating how to handle this man—grind to a halt.
Insane.
'Sword Gang? Seriously?'
If I stood at the very edge of First-Rate, the thousand-man commander was at the threshold of Transcendent. No matter how brilliant my talent, a gulf that wide wasn't one talent could bridge.
"What ails you? Could it be you have realized I am no mere thousand-man commander? This one is called Namgung Hou, summoned here by the Emperor's own hand. I little expected to find a hidden master in such a place."
Namgung Hou, as if forgetting his earlier tantrum entirely, abruptly affected a dignified air.
Before I could even process the absurdity of it, the true weight of my situation crashed down: things had turned utterly desperate.
'A Transcendent master from the Namgung Clan? Are you kidding me?'
For some reason, the sky suddenly seemed worth cursing.
You could have sent someone of roughly equal skill, you know? Or were you actually planning to kill me?
I glared up at the heavens, but there was nothing up there but drifting clouds, which only made me angrier.
"Heh heh heh. There is no need for such fear. You will not even survive a single exchange—your corpse will be rolling in the dirt before long, so the pain will be brief."
'Fuck. Maybe I should've just listened to Namil?'
For a moment, honestly, I regretted it.
There had been plenty of time to flee, and Namil had known it—that was why he'd told me to run from the very start.
But if I ran, what of the people in the villages around here?
At the very least, I had to see the elderly, the women, and the children to safety.
That was why I'd stayed. Regretting it now changed nothing, and as the leader of this village, I had to see my responsibility through to the end.
"Ah, whatever. Let's just give it one hell of a shot, then."
"Your spirit is commendable!"
CHAENG!
The two men clashed once more—and even in that instant, the Tang army's assault on the village raged on.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
"What, in truth, are you?"
"What you see is the prefect of this village. Though I don't suppose I am anymore..."
I turned and looked behind me. The palisade raised to shield the village was riddled with gaping holes, and the wooden watchtowers built to give our archers the high ground had all been toppled. Flames surged up from within the village, and the air itself trembled with the stench of blood.
We'd held out for nearly half a shijin, so the villagers who'd been evacuating should have reached the fortress nearby by now.
What about Namil, I wondered? It'd be my fault if he died for nothing, so I hoped he'd managed to run somewhere safe.
As I worried over Namil, Namgung Hou asked, a trace of exhaustion in his voice.
"At first you could barely evade my attacks. And yet just now, you blocked one outright. Did you resort to sorcery?"
The hell are you on about.
"Speak honestly, and I shall spare your life. That much, at least."
"I would really, really appreciate it if you'd drop the whole 'sorcery' bit. Why is it that every time someone's stronger than me, out comes the sorcery talk? Seriously."
"Do you truly not know? Or have you gone mad with the desire for death?"
Mad with the desire for death? That's a good one.
My left arm dangled uselessly, one jolt from falling off entirely, and the internal injuries from taking Namgung Hou's Sword Gang head-on would soon carry the risk of qi deviating into fire-madness.
'Either way, these wounds mean living the rest of my life as a cripple. If that's the alternative, dying is better.'
A warrior who couldn't use his arm or his inner power wasn't a warrior—just another one-armed invalid you'd find littering any battlefield.
Swallowing my lingering attachment to the world, I forced out a smile.
"Heh. Not really in a talkative mood, y'know?"
"HAHAHAHA! When it comes to that mouth of yours, you are a Transcendent master indeed!"
"Heh heh. Much obliged for the compliment."
"Then, since I shall not have the answer I wanted after all—it is time for you to go on to your next life."
Namgung Hou's sword fell toward Mujin's neck.
So I really am going to die like this. If it's a death I can't escape, at least let me leave behind one last, beautifully delivered line—
SHAAAAK!
"You're the one with less talent than me, so why the hell do you get to talk down to—"
Chok!
Mujin's neck parted, and his head flew through the air.
Into the lightless, fading eyes of Mujin was reflected the figure of Ga Namil, standing beside Namgung Hou, waving his hand with a bright, cheerful grin.
'Huh?'
And so Mujin's life came to an end.
Though never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that Namgung Hou's words would prove true—that he would, in fact, be reborn into another life.