573.
As the sun sank beneath the sea, the western sky darkened like spilled ink.
The wind scattered and shattered in violent shifts. The crests of the waves tore upward as if ripped apart.
The seasoned boatman read the wind.
He kept a steady distance from the shore and turned the bow northwest.
Even in the darkness, his hands moved with precision.
After running for some time, the old man lowered the sail.
"From here on, the sea has many eyes."
The moment he finished speaking, the wind cut out.
The moon slipped behind the clouds, and the darkness deepened.
The boatman held his breath.
"There."
Several hundred jang away.
Far.
A black silhouette floated clearly on the night sea.
A Wa fleet.
Around twenty ships—no more than thirty.
Yet they looked mountain-like, deceptively close despite the distance.
Faint points of light multiplied in the darkness.
Some ships lay at rest without raising sails.
They remained still, holding their spacing.
Waiting—pressed flat upon the sea.
Park Seong-jin asked,
"How much farther can we go?"
The old man answered quietly.
"If we go any farther, they'll see us."
"We may already be within their sight."
Park Seong-jin nodded.
He lightly leapt onto the small skiff trailing behind.
Thud—
The narrow wooden boat rocked violently atop the waves.
The rope was cut loose.
An oar was lifted.
First stroke.
Splash— splash—
The boat failed to gain forward momentum.
It rocked left and right in place.
The bow that should have led forward slid sideways instead.
The boatman shouted,
"Lean as you row!"
"Lean toward the side you're pushing!"
Park Seong-jin shifted his weight.
The boat rocked again.
Commands flew in rapid succession.
"Left foot forward!"
"Right foot back!"
"Left hand on the grip!"
"Right hand on the blade!"
"Pull!"
"Row!"
Despite the shouted orders, the boat continued to wobble in place.
Park Seong-jin set the oar down.
"…Tch."
His expression was far too serious.
The boatmen were momentarily speechless.
On this sea, before that vast enemy fleet, the strongest martial warrior of Goryeo was fumbling at rowing.
At that moment, Song Yijeong leapt down after him.
Thump—!
He crossed five jang with ease and landed lightly on the skiff, as if stepping on shadows.
"I'll try."
Song Yijeong grabbed an oar.
The boat wobbled crookedly.
The two men pushed the boat in different directions.
Park Seong-jin released the oar.
He inhaled deeply.
Papang—!
Both hands struck through the sea wind.
The recoil shoved the small boat forward.
The boat slid—whoosh—ahead.
"Oh…"
Park Seong-jin twisted his body.
He lowered his torso, as if reading the wind.
Then he slammed both hands backward again.
Papang—!
The boat surged forward.
Ten jang. Twenty.
The force he controlled caught the wind like a sail.
It cut through the current like an oar pushing water.
On the small boat, he moved like a beast—flexible, heavy, alive.
And so the two men advanced across the night sea with this strange, improvised "rowing."
Before they realized it—
They were at the very center of the enemy fleet.
Huge black hulls surrounded them like folding screens of mountains.
Torches flared to life all at once.
Dozens of flames filled the decks.
Wa soldiers crowded the rails, staring down at the tiny boat.
"Who are you?"
Park Seong-jin answered from below.
"Me?"
He shrugged once.
"I'm not entirely sure myself."
"Huu…"
He let out a long breath.
Tension drained away with it.
A silence laden with explosion settled over the sea.
Park Seong-jin straightened his back atop the small boat.
His voice did not carry loudly—
yet it pressed down on the waves with weight.
"I am Park Seong-jin, Jungnangjang of the Goryeo army,
come to pacify the Wa of the southern seas."
A brief silence.
Snickers leaked from across the Wa ships.
"Oh?"
"A Jungnangjang?"
"A Jungnangjang came all the way out here?"
"Here to 'pacify' us?"
"Do you know where you are?"
"Hahaha."
"That one's insane."
Unfamiliar faces echoed one another's laughter—
the kind that shrinks alone but grows loud in a pack.
Park Seong-jin chuckled softly.
"Fine."
"Then who are you?"
One Wa soldier shouted from the railing,
"Miyazaki!"
"Elite troops from Miyazaki (宮崎)!"
"I see."
"Miyazaki."
Park Seong-jin merely nodded.
To him, Wa were a single mass of waves.
Distinctions were meaningless.
Wherever they came from, they were the same raiders who rode the sea.
He asked again,
"And what are you waiting for here?"
One Wa soldier jerked his chin toward the darkness beyond the water.
"We're waiting for our comrades."
Park Seong-jin narrowed his eyes.
More lights appeared in that direction.
Other Wa ships were slowly converging.
Calmly, Park Seong-jin said,
"Surrender, and I'll spare your lives."
"One swing of my blade, and this ends here."
Song Yijeong glanced at him.
His gaze flickered briefly.
The Wa soldiers laughed it off.
"Get lost!"
The instant the curse ended, an arrow tore through the air.
Shoo—
Park Seong-jin shifted half a step aside.
Within that tiny movement, his wrist snapped.
Chang—!
The arrow changed direction, flew back beneath the torchlight—
Thud—
—and buried itself cleanly in the throat of the man who had just shouted.
The neck bone snapped as it drove deep.
His body slid from the railing.
Splash.
It vanished into the sea.
Murmurs spread among the Wa soldiers.
"A master!"
"That's not human!"
"There are only two of them?!"
One small boat on the waves.
Two men.
The air of the night sea changed.
Park Seong-jin spoke very quietly.
"Introductions end here."
At the end of his words, killing intent rose thinly into the air.