They did not weigh right and wrong, nor responsibility before or after.
Survival in the present was everything.
When Park Seong-jin said, "Just die here," and turned away, the waegu commander stepped forward with a composed face.
They were men who had seen only victory and defeat in war.
They did not weigh right and wrong, nor responsibility before or after.
Survival in the present was everything.
Even at a dead end, the waegu commander tried to open a path with words.
"Wait. We will withdraw. We do not wish to fight. You will suffer losses as well."
It was Goryeo speech, forced out with effort.
Each phrase carried stubborn resolve.
The waegu way of thinking was laid bare:
they saw only the present, only the situation before their eyes.
If a way to live appeared, they ran straight down it.
They did not recall the villages burned along their path.
Neither guilt nor remorse found a place in their chests.
The commander continued.
"We have formed our ranks. If we fight, you also lose. Open the way. We will return to our homeland."
As he spoke, Park Seong-jin slowly tilted his head.
The tone was rough.
Desperation clung to the words.
It sounded like instinct screaming to live—
like the cry of a beast.
Park Seong-jin spoke quietly.
"…You will be the first to die."
The waegu commander's face hardened.
Only then did he understand that the man before him would not be moved by words.
Park Seong-jin turned and waved a hand at Song Yi-jeong.
"Let's go."
With that single word, the negotiation ended.
As Park Seong-jin turned his back, unrest rippled through the waegu ranks.
The commander dropped his head and clenched his teeth.
It was the moment when empty hope shattered.
He swung his arm wide and gave an order.
"Split into two!"
They moved in two directions with swift judgment.
One group formed a sacrificial formation to save the rear.
The other slipped to the flank and moved toward the ships.
Some resolved to die and hold the line.
Others used that gap to escape.
Had this been agreed upon in advance?
If it had already been decided that I would be the one to die,
could I accept that fate?
It would not be easy.
Yet they did it.
They treated human life lightly.
Because without doing so, their society stripped away the freedom to live.
The sacrificial formation held its ground, pressing down in place.
It was bait to save the retreating force.
Cruel sorrow flickered across the faces of those chosen to die.
When they killed, they thought of death.
The retreat group moved cautiously toward the opposite curve of the crescent shore—
the path to the ships.
Even in brief chaos, the two movements were precise.
It was as though those meant to die
and those meant to escape
had already been sorted.
One side ran madly toward the shore.
The other held firm against the Goryeo troops.
That was the terror of regular waegu warriors.
Those who did not fear death also found a way for some to survive.
Watching the retreating group grow distant, Park Seong-jin murmured,
"Clever…"
He drew his sword.
"Still, you have to die."
Sand scattered lightly at his feet.
An enemy who understood the righteousness of self-sacrifice—
but an enemy nonetheless.
As the retreating force and the sacrificial formation split along the shore,
Park Seong-jin spoke softly.
"Clever men."
Song Yi-jeong asked,
"What do you mean by clever?"
Park Seong-jin drew a breath and said,
"They have intelligence. And fear."
"Those who flee, and those who block with their deaths—
they move exactly as they should."
"They see offering their lives for their lord as honor."
"In their country," Song Yi-jeong said,
"they have no other choice."
At the edge of the shore, the front ranks of the formation turned back toward their lord and roared.
It was not a cry of fear.
It was like an incantation of the battlefield—
a shout meant to buy time for escape.
Watching them, Park Seong-jin narrowed his eyes.
"They are enemies."
"They have righteousness."
"We do not judge good and evil between us."
"But the crime of burning this land remains."
Song Yi-jeong nodded.
"Yes."
"The side that is abandoned carries greater momentum."
Park Seong-jin said,
"A formation with no retreat."
"They have accepted death."
Song Yi-jeong raised the hand gripping his sword.
"Still, we cannot leave them be."
"I will prepare a charge."
Park Seong-jin shook his head.
"A frontal assault will cost us lives."
"A no-retreat formation is broken another way."
He issued orders.
"Hold the charge."
"Harass them with concentrated fire."
"Break the formation with mobility."
Song Yi-jeong asked,
"Where will you go, Commander?"
Park Seong-jin pointed to the group of waegu commanders moving swiftly behind the pine grove.
"That one."
"We take him."
"The reason for this whole mad procession—
it ends with that one man."
Song Yi-jeong exclaimed,
"There are too many around him!"
Park Seong-jin answered briefly,
"It's fine."
"That's what I studied so hard for."
Park Seong-jin slipped slowly out of the formation.
He did not mount his horse.
Amid the noise of battle, his presence faded to a single point.
He left the shore and leapt into the darkness of the pine forest.
Woooo—!
It was the sound of releasing qi, lifting the body onto the wind.
His feet touched pine needles.
It was as if his weight had vanished.
Ahead, between the trees, the waegu command group moved swiftly.
Chasing them, Park Seong-jin muttered,
"Yes. I'll praise the cleverness.
But still…"
His body sliced between trees like an arrow.
The wind surged after him, a beat too late.
Beyond the pine grove lay a small rise.
On the other side, the fleeing waegu commander and dozens of guards ran toward the ships.
Park Seong-jin closed in without breaking his breath.
The moment the commander's back filled his vision,
the sword was already in his hand.
It rose slowly, along a fatal arc.
"Got you."