549.
The Flames of Jeolla Shake Gaegyeong
The incursions of the waegu were faster and more brutal than expected.
When a few small villages along the southern coast burned, the court did not greatly waver.
But the reports arriving from the Jeolla coastline mercilessly shattered all such complacency.
The first messenger to reach the capital ran up the palace steps and shouted,
"The Jeolla coast has been burned in its entirety!"
Everyone rose to their feet.
"Where?"
"Meonneuripo has fallen."
"Jangheung is in flames."
"Gangjin port has been occupied by the waegu."
The reports did not end.
The court fell rapidly into fear.
Moments later, another messenger arrived.
He came running as if about to collapse, then threw himself down before the king.
"The government forces of Gyeongsang and Jeolla have collapsed."
Civil and military officials sprang up at once.
"Collapsed?"
"How could this happen?"
"How could the Jeolla naval forces fall so easily?"
The messenger explained in a trembling voice.
"They are not bandits.
They maintain formations, their battle lines are organized, and they strike the flanks of our forces simultaneously.
They are regular troops.
This is unmistakably the movement of a standing army."
The generals' faces drained of color.
A map of Jeolla, hastily spread open, was marked again and again with red stones as the reports continued.
"Here—fallen."
"Here—burned."
"This port has already been abandoned."
"Here, the civilians were massacred."
Before long, more than half of the Jeolla coastline was painted red.
It no longer meant an incursion—it meant the coastline itself had been erased.
The faces of the civil officials turned pale.
The military officers exchanged furtive glances.
The censors could not even look at one another.
"If they advance as far as Gaegyeong, how do we stop them?"
"The navy has been breached. Then they will move north along the coast."
"If Jeolla falls, Gaegyeong lies straight ahead."
A civil official spoke in a trembling voice.
"Your Majesty, this is not a waegu uprising.
This is war."
The great hall fell silent, so quiet that only breathing could be heard.
The king slowly raised his head and looked toward the back of the chamber.
There stood a man, silent yet fully felt by all—Park Seong-jin.
Even without him speaking, everyone already knew.
There was no other answer.
This had to be stopped with the sword.
The king's voice was subdued but firm.
"…Middle Commander Park."
Park Seong-jin stepped forward instead of answering.
The hall held its breath.
"Loyalty."
As the flames of the waegu devoured the Jeolla coast, a far deeper and greater current began to stir in Gaegyeong.
Once Park Seong-jin moved, everything would change.
While he went to block the external threat, internal rebellion could erupt.
That was how precarious Goryeo had become.
Holding the Sea with an Elite Few
As the Jeolla coast was reduced to scorched earth, the court erupted with shouted opinions from all sides.
None amounted to a real solution.
If a large army were sent south, the palace would be left exposed.
If the palace stood empty, internal rebellion was inevitable.
If forces were kept in the capital, the coastline would continue to burn.
At that impasse, Park Seong-jin spoke quietly.
"Gaegyeong must not be left undefended.
I will intercept the enemy with a small force."
The chamber stirred.
"Stop the waegu with only a few men?"
"They are a regular army now."
"Even the navy has collapsed—how is this possible?"
Park Seong-jin shook his head.
"They land in groups of several hundred, scattered across many points.
The front is wide, but the enemy concentration at each point is limited.
A small, elite force is more effective."
His voice was calm, but the words themselves were already strategy.
He had precisely struck the weakness in the waegu's dispersed coastal tactics.
Park Seong-jin reorganized his own warriors first.
Half would remain in Gaegyeong—to protect the king, the queen, and the palace against internal revolt.
They were the final shield against rebellion.
Even if uprising occurred, as long as the king and queen were protected, it would suffice.
Only the remaining half would march south.
And even then, he did not take all of them.
"War is not a matter of numbers."
He had always said this.
The newly incorporated New Army also mobilized.
He referred to them without judgment, simply as a new force.
Though formed by absorbing former private soldiers, Park Seong-jin deemed them usable.
They needed training in collective combat rather than individual duels.
He rearmed them with battle in mind.
All troops were mounted.
New armor was issued.
Large quantities of bows and arrows were supplied.
Shields were mandatory.
Cavalry lances.
And sabers for close combat.
"The waegu will try to close in.
Before they do, we break them with arrows.
At distance, we pierce them with lances.
Mounted charges will neutralize their armor.
If it comes to close combat, cut them down with sabers."
His tactics were clear.
Avoid close engagement, destroy enemy units piecemeal at range, then withdraw swiftly with cavalry mobility.
For waegu who fought like infantry, this was lethal.
The force numbered fewer than a thousand.
Too meager to be called a nation's strength.
At the very least, three thousand should have been gathered—or so he had thought.
Land seizures had included military allotments.
If those lands became private property, perhaps the recipients benefited—but did they not realize that the soldiers who defended the nation would vanish with them?
They scoured the armories to equip the troops.
Yet as each soldier received his gear, their eyes changed.
The cause—fighting a foreign enemy for the nation—transformed their spirit.
The horses beneath them snorted powerfully.
Just over a thousand riders.
Few in number, but the entirety of what the king could provide.
How had the nation grown so weak… It was beyond shame.
As Park Seong-jin completed his final inspection, the king summoned him.
The king could not speak for a while.
"…I am sorry.
That the nation has fallen to such a state that I cannot even give you a proper thousand riders."
Park Seong-jin neither bowed nor raised his head.
He simply met the king's eyes.
"Your Majesty, what I need is not a thousand riders, but a battlefield.
Do not worry.
Take care of your health.
Trust Song I-sul."
The king nodded, voice breaking.
"I understand."
A thousand riders.
That was all the army the King of Goryeo could offer.