534.Leave an escape route open.
Once that single man was dealt with, the entire body of retainers froze like stone.
Silence dropped with crushing weight.
From the darkest, most densely packed cluster in the rear, the mass slowly parted.
People were pushed aside left and right, as if a wave were splitting.
From the opening, one man stepped forward.
His armor gleamed with ostentatious luxury.
Across his chest, the emblem of a powerful aristocratic house was embroidered in gold thread.
Behind him, more than a hundred men formed a heavy line.
Before the number registered, the money required to feed a hundred men was felt first.
The retainers swallowed in unison.
"That man…"
"The lord himself has come out…"
Park Seong-jin said flatly,
"So you're the instigator."
The man shouted in a shaking voice,
"Park Seong-jin, how dare you—!"
Bluster clung to the words, but his fingertips trembled.
When Park Seong-jin stepped forward once, the retainers all retreated at the same time.
Gripped by belated obstinacy, the man screamed at his retainers,
"Kill him! Now! Immediately! There's only one of him! One man! Strike! Kill him!"
The scream was an attempt to cloak itself in the authority of command.
Only one person responded.
A retainer who had been trembling in front burst forward with a shredded scream.
"Aaaaaaaah—!"
Faces twisted in terror.
"That bastard…"
"Just one man…"
"Who told him to—"
His eyes rolled back.
Foam gathered at his lips.
It was the look of offering up a single, worn-out soldier as a sacrifice.
Park Seong-jin fixed his stance.
The soldier's blade came crashing down in a wild arc.
An instant—
Park Seong-jin's hand flashed like lightning.
Thud.
The soldier's body tilted.
Before it touched the ground, his breath was gone.
A thin, pale line of light seemed to brush past Seong-jin's fingertips and vanish.
One strike.
Soundless death.
The entire group of retainers locked solid.
Park Seong-jin slowly raised his gaze toward the instigator.
His eyes spoke.
Your turn.
The man's lips quivered.
He stood frozen, as if ice had been driven into his feet.
The retainers behind him parted, making way.
Calculation surfaced on their faces.
Park Seong-jin's shadow stretched long over the instigator's toes.
The man drew his sword.
The blade trembled, his grip shaking.
"Don't come any closer! I am a scholar-official! Lay a hand on me and—!"
Park Seong-jin asked,
"What's your name?"
Instead of answering, the man shouted louder,
"Strike him! Strike!"
Before the words finished, Park Seong-jin's fingertips extended lightly.
Tap.
The moment they touched the nape of the man's neck, strength drained from his body.
The sword slipped from his hand and fell.
His knees folded, and he collapsed quietly to the ground.
In the silence, only the retainers' trembling breaths could be heard.
Park Seong-jin withdrew his gaze.
Then he said coldly,
"One who drags private troops to the palace gate."
"One who would raise a blade toward the king."
"This is the result."
All the retainers stepped back at once.
Every head bowed.
Park Seong-jin said,
"Now choose."
"If you want to live, drop your weapons and go back immediately."
Swords hit the ground with dull clatters—
thud, thud.
Some men's legs gave out and they collapsed.
Others retreated with their eyes lowered.
With the instigator broken, the retainers' momentum sank straight to the ground.
Park Seong-jin brushed his hands together and said,
"Just clean up the rear."
"Leave an escape route open."
"Hands that grab fleeing men gain nothing."
Song I-sul bowed deeply.
"Loyalty."
To Song I-sul, Park Seong-jin was once again simply the Jungnangjang.
That fact alone re-established order before the North Gate.
Rumors quickly grew legs.
"The Hwagyung master Park Seong-jin stepped in personally."
"He only gestured from afar and men collapsed."
"They say the calculations are finished."
Palace soldiers came forward and wrote down, one by one, the names and affiliations of those who surrendered.
The outlines of those who fled were recorded as well.
While the North Gate was being secured, Park Seong-jin sat back a little and yawned.
He called over an officer of the Gyeonryong Guard.
"I'm curious which houses sent troops."
"Could you sort that out?"
"Which house comes first matters."
Irritation rose in Seong-jin's chest.
When the nation needed defending, troops were scarce, and they had faced the enemy with only a few thousand.
Now, a few hours' gathering of private soldiers numbered in the hundreds.
These blades do not face the nation.
They face the aristocrats.
The officer bowed.
"Please wait just a moment."
"Loyalty."
Park Seong-jin waved his hand as if it were a bother.
"Yes, handle it."
The officer ran off, brightening the lanterns and urging on the soldiers writing the rosters.
Soon, the results came back.
"Troops were provided by ten houses."
Names heavy enough to choke the mouth.
The group known as the Ten Great Aristocratic Houses of the Three Han—
families where money, land, connections, offices, and private armies were piled into a single mass.
To Park Seong-jin, it looked like a seating chart of the wealthy.
"Ten great houses."
"Good."
He continued,
"I need the locations of their residences."
"And pick one private soldier from each house."
"Loyalty."
Soon, ten retainers were dragged forward.
Their ornaments and insignia clung to them like faces.
Park Seong-jin looked them over and said,
"You heard everything."
"From now on, we're going to tear down your families' bases."
He pointed to the man standing at the very front.
"You first."
"Guide us to that house."