570.Seven red marks were placed on the map at the operations briefing.
Seven red marks were placed on the map at the operations briefing.
One had already been annihilated.
With six remaining, the officers began throwing out directions at once.
"General, we should start with the group north of Nangju—"
(*Nangju: the former name of present-day Yeongam in South Jeolla Province, meaning "the town of bright moonlight.")
"The groups closer to the coast should be prioritized."
"Judging by their movement distance, the western group is the fastest."
Park Seong-jin stared down at the map in silence.
Then the door burst open.
"General! An urgent report!"
The intelligence officer rushed in, gasping for breath.
Park Seong-jin lifted his head.
"Speak."
"The enemy is moving."
"I know they're moving."
"It's the coast."
"All of them—heading for coastal ports."
"Not three or four locations… it appears all seven groups are moving."
The air in the tent froze.
Park Seong-jin's gaze narrowed, very slowly.
"…They're assembling."
More reports piled in.
"They're moving south in formed columns."
"They've stopped looting villages and are advancing straight along the roads."
"They're not resupplying—just increasing speed."
Park Seong-jin murmured under his breath.
"They've secured their escape route."
He understood.
The defeat at Nangju had spread.
The death of a key commander.
The collapse of two Wa groups.
The merchant's words about their fast information network.
They had finished their calculations.
If they stayed, annihilation was certain.
So they converged all at once on the ports where they had landed.
Park Seong-jin's jaw hardened.
The coast was ground where horses could not exert their strength.
The sea was a battlefield beyond the reach of hooves.
He exhaled slowly.
"This is troublesome."
An officer asked,
"General, will we pursue?"
"We can engage them on land."
"But the moment they board their ships, it ends there."
The coastline curved like wrinkled silk.
Sand dragged at horses' legs.
No matter how fast cavalry ran, ships slipped out to sea.
Park Seong-jin said quietly,
"The coast is no road for cavalry."
A soldier asked carefully,
"Where are they headed?"
"To the deepest ports."
"Best suited for escape."
"They either have ships anchored, or rendezvous arranged at sea."
Park Seong-jin folded his arms.
"No matter how fast we are, once they launch their ships, we can't reach them."
Silence settled.
He rubbed his brow.
"Once they start running… the odds of catching them won't even be one in ten."
The officers lowered their heads.
Two days later, intelligence officers rushed in one after another.
"General! Wa bands spotted at three coastal locations!"
"Two other groups have also slipped out to the shoreline!"
"There are reports they're converging on southern ports!"
The remaining groups vanished toward the coast.
Park Seong-jin erased the red marks from the map one by one.
There was no enemy there anymore.
The marks remained.
The battlefield moved.
Erasing the last mark, he said,
"…They're pulling out for real."
The reality that cavalry could not pin down Wa forces shifting to the coast weighed heavily on the command tent.
Park Seong-jin spoke slowly.
"From here on, it's a fight of terrain."
"And a fight of time."
The officers swallowed.
He continued evenly.
"For now, their retreat reduces direct combat."
"Less blood will be shed."
A thin smile passed his lips.
"But it leaves their return path open."
An officer ventured cautiously,
"They've taken heavy losses this time, so for a while—"
Park Seong-jin raised a hand to cut him off.
"Break the habit of thinking in comfortable directions first."
He glanced outside.
"While hooves churn through sand,
their ships are already slicing water and pulling away."
He exhaled.
"Escape isn't the end."
"The problem is when they come back."
He chose what could be done.
"What's the fastest boat available at the ports?"
"There are fast fishing boats that set nets."
"How many can they carry?"
"About five people each."
"Secure all of them."
"Find out where the enemy is fleeing to."
Scouts ran to the coast.
Boats slipped out into the night sea.
Not long after, reports came in.
"General! All enemy forces have gone out to sea!"
"All of them?"
"Yes!"
"Not a single ship left behind!"
Park Seong-jin let out a short breath—
somewhere between a laugh and a dry exhale.
"Like a dog chasing chickens."
The next thought weighed heavier.
The report to be sent to Gaegyeong.
The fact that the fleeing enemy could not be intercepted at sea.
The moment he wrote it without embellishment,
the words could read like an excuse.
He pressed his chest briefly.
In the past, he had been the one who drove others hard with such reports.
Now the edge of that blade had turned back toward him.
He ordered the soldiers to rest.
They had ridden far and fought without pause.
One problem remained.
They didn't know where the enemy had gone.
They could land elsewhere.
They could regroup at ports unknown to them.
They could return with a larger force.
A shadow settled over Park Seong-jin's brow.
He spread the map again.
Names across the sea surfaced in his mind.
Nagasaki.
Iki Island.
Tsushima.
Miyazaki.
Kagawa.
"Five places," he murmured.
He stared down at the map.
"Cut only the branches, and they grow back."
Closing his eyes briefly,
the ships of the Battle of Payang Lake rose before him—
great vessels as tall as houses,
gunports spewing fire,
pressure rolling across the water as they advanced.