574.Crash—!
Mockery and laughter cut off abruptly.
Park Seong-jin's toes lifted slightly.
In that instant, his body shot into the air—straight up.
He folded and unfolded once against the night sky, then slid horizontally as if stepping on the wind.
Shouts exploded from the Wa ships.
"He's coming!"
"He's airborne!"
"The sky—!"
The largest ship at the center—the heavy vessel carrying supplies and command—was swallowed by his shadow.
Crash—!
The moment he landed on the forecastle, the entire ship shuddered.
Four Wa soldiers near the railing thrust their blades forward.
Slice—
All four bodies folded almost simultaneously.
Blood burst from their chests, red lines streaking across the deck.
"What was that?!"
"Did anyone see him cut?!"
No one had followed the motion with their eyes.
Only the result remained on the deck.
Three samurai gathered their courage and charged.
A naginata flashed like lightning.
Another came around from behind, striking at the shaft.
Park Seong-jin twisted his waist just slightly.
Snap. Rip. Slash.
Three heads rose into the air in different directions.
Headless bodies collapsed a heartbeat later.
Blood sprayed diagonally, splattering rigging and mast.
The Wa soldiers staggered backward.
Breath caught all at once.
Two senior samurai struck together from front and rear.
"Take this!"
Two blades flew toward him at once.
Park Seong-jin flicked his wrist.
The blades crossed through empty air.
Bam! Bam!
Two heavy impacts.
Two necks snapped in opposite directions.
The sound of breaking bone echoed against the mast.
Before their bodies hit the deck, Park Seong-jin's feet had already moved on.
From the bow, ten Wa soldiers rushed him at once.
Swords, spears, naginata, clubs—steel filled the narrow deck.
Standing at the center, Park Seong-jin swung his arm once in a wide arc.
Whoo—
Bodies flew outward beyond the circular sweep.
Five went over the railing into the sea.
The remaining five collapsed on the deck, limbs twisted and broken.
From the stern, a middle-aged Wa commander in patterned armor charged out.
"You dare!"
The blade came down heavy with weight and technique.
Park Seong-jin caught the blade between thumb and forefinger.
Crack.
Steel split.
"With this?"
He tapped the man's jaw lightly with the edge of his hand.
Thud.
The neck folded backward.
The body collapsed like a collapsed tent.
The will of the ship winked out.
The remaining Wa soldiers' feet slid back.
Grips loosened.
Park Seong-jin's gaze swept the deck—
from men to ship.
Rigging.
Rudder.
Anchor lines.
Commands.
He tapped the rigging with his blade.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Thick ropes snapped like severed tendons.
The sail sagged halfway, losing the wind.
The ship's breath sank.
"Rigging!"
As the shout went up, Park Seong-jin's feet were already moving toward the rudder.
His blade slashed diagonally.
The arm of the helmsman broke with it.
The man dropped to his knees.
"The rudder!"
Park Seong-jin walked to the edge of the deck.
He cast his gaze over the railing.
Lights from the neighboring ship wavered atop the waves—
and they were drawing closer.
The Second Ship
Though the first ship was drenched in blood and flesh, Park Seong-jin's breathing had not faltered.
He paused briefly at the railing's edge.
The updraft lifted his clothes.
He chose his next target.
Then he jumped.
Over the pitch-black sea between massive Wa ships, his body traced a parabola.
The wind cut beneath his chin.
The next deck flashed into view.
Boom—!
He landed, and the deck planks shrieked.
A shock rippled outward.
Air burst with a thunderous crash.
Those on the neighboring ship had only seen how the first vessel had "vanished."
"He's here."
"It's him."
"That flying demon."
"Kill him!"
"Run!"
This ship was different.
A spear line was already formed.
Iron hooks clung to the railing.
Beneath the mast sat firing ports and jars of oil—
prepared to seize and burn.
Park Seong-jin drew a slow breath.
Then he dropped a single syllable.
"Come."
The force in that voice pressed down on the deck.
Spines froze.
The three Wa soldiers at the front lunged on instinct.
Park Seong-jin's arm passed through them.
Thud. Drip. Thud.
Three heads flew in different directions.
Blood erupted like fountains.
Headless bodies staggered two or three steps before collapsing.
Ten men formed the spear line.
Angles and spacing were precise.
Spearheads thrust forward together.
Park Seong-jin's blade traced a single circle.
Craaaack—
Shafts shattered like dry branches.
Clatter. Clatter. Clang.
Only the sound of breaking wood rang across the deck.
The spearless soldiers' eyes hardened.
Park Seong-jin plunged through the gap.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Fist-sized holes opened in three chests.
He did not cut.
He did not thrust.
He passed through.
Hearts vanished.
Lungs burst.
Blood surged backward, flooding throats.
Five samurai rushed in without shouting.
Naginata swept for his waist.
Park Seong-jin lowered his body.
A single red line drew itself across the deck.
In the next instant, their waists were gone.
Upper bodies dropped with a dull thud.
Lower bodies remained standing, blood spraying upward.
"…Is that a man?"
The legs of the remaining soldiers trembled.
Some fled over the railing into the sea.
Others scrambled up the rigging.
Park Seong-jin tapped the railing with his blade.
Snap.
Splash.
Thud.
Necks broke mid-flight.
From which angle, from which side—only they never knew.
Bodies scattered into the water like a flock of black birds.
Near the central command platform, a heavily armored Wa commander drew a bow.
His eyes did not waver.
He was the ship's eye.
"A bow."
The moment Park Seong-jin whispered it, his shadow vanished.
Thud—!
From behind, the blade burst through the commander's chest.
"H—how…"
Drop.
The commander collapsed.
Park Seong-jin did not look at the corpse.
He looked at the ship.
And instead of the rigging, he turned toward the firing ports and oil jars.
Crack—!
The blade snapped the neck of a jar.
Oil spilled across the deck.
A Wa soldier sprinted to drop a spark into the fire port.
Park Seong-jin's hand moved first.
Clang—!
The spark flew into the sea and died.
He cut the anchor line.
Snap—!
The ship shifted slightly.
The fleet's formation began to waver.
Park Seong-jin flicked his blade once.
Blood fell in a thin line into the sea.
Silence settled on the deck.
No breath remained.
A great ship that had held dozens now lay soaked red, like a massive slaughterhouse.
The wind dragged the scent of blood past.
Park Seong-jin said quietly,
"Next ship."
And kicked into empty air again.
On the night sea, the Wa ships began to be carved away one by one.
By the time three were finished, movement finally stirred at the rear of the fleet.
It was not formation.
Not command.
Hands grasped rudders in desperation.
Ships without maneuverability blocked one another's paths.
Rigging tangled.
Anchor lines snared hulls.
Torches flared and died.
Fear replaced orders.
"Run."
The word burst from multiple mouths, in different directions.
Sails lurched upward.
Oars slapped uselessly at the water.
Ships collided, short screams and curses colliding with them.