579.
Sails diminished one by one, vanishing into the dark.
"If we retreat just because one commander fell, we'll lose bigger heads when we return."
The calculation came first: survive and you die at your lord's gate anyway.
Inside the fleet, they forced the strongest fighter into command.
A brawl erupted among those who wanted to become the new leader.
Steel clashed on deck, and blood slicked the planks.
In the end, about twenty ships remained.
They did not wait for something.
They endured by doing nothing.
For three days the fleet stayed, restless.
Each night there were fewer lamps, and the warriors slept in fragments with armor on.
On the third night, a small shadow approached again, cutting a quiet current.
It was Park Seong-jin's boat.
He chose a line that left no presence.
He circled the fleet's edge and flicked small stones with his fingertips.
Tok. Tok.
Short sounds struck railings, masts, and the ship's side.
The warriors took those sounds as a signal.
Someone shouted through a strangled breath, "Dim the lights."
Someone ran to the command cabin and hammered on the door.
Inside was empty.
The new commander's neck had already been snapped, and his body had slipped into the sea.
Wave sounds covered the threshold.
That night, Park Seong-jin left only an announcement of death and vanished into darkness.
He comes sometimes and cuts one or two away.
The sound of arrival sinks, and only the sound of departure remains.
The oar's creak scattering as it rows water dissolves toward the end of night.
The fleet could not even break sleep into pieces.
Their vigilance grew tight, and tightness only shook.
Night after night, it felt as if an unseen shadow drifted over the water.
A comrade whose back you leaned on would be stiff and cold by dawn.
"Another is dead."
"No one saw anything."
"We have to go back."
Thirteen ships panicked and pulled out.
Half the fleet scattered toward home.
What remained was around ten ships.
Those who stayed clung harder.
"There's no road back. We hold here. We fight, we seize, we raid."
On their faces, desperation rose before even the sea's salt.
Park Seong-jin combined four captured enemy ships with Haechil, plus two fast patrol boats—seven vessels total—forming a Goryeo sea strike force.
He handed the ship's movement to the descendants of Jang Bogo who had gathered at the harbor.
Without their hands, oar and rudder could not find the true road.
Soldiers whose stomachs turned the moment they boarded could not carry a sea war alone.
"Today, we are the blade of the sea."
Sailors lashed heavy crossbows to each ship with rope.
They reset grapnels and lines.
When the morning fog lifted, the two forces found each other on the water.
Ten Why pirate ships.
Seven Goryeo ships.
The pirates had numbers.
Goryeo took the initiative first.
The pirates had already lived through the night's shadow twice.
When the Goryeo warships emerged through the haze, eyes on the decks wavered.
Park Seong-jin stood at Haechil's bow.
He raised his hand high.
"Advance. Full speed. Ram. Break them."
KWAANG—!
The modified ram tore into the bow and smashed the first enemy ship.
A sekibune's side was punctured and shoved sideways.
The ship lurched hard; warriors spilled into the water.
Goryeo archers on both flanks unleashed a volley.
Piping, piping—pipak.
Arrows nailed the backs of hands gripping the rail, and the space between eyes.
Screams scattered into the fog.
From the ship that latched onto Haechil's side,高手 fighters sprang up and vaulted onto the pirate deck.
Blades spun like a whirlwind across the planks.
The pirates lost the beat and were pushed back.
"A demon."
"It's back."
Park Seong-jin did not move a single step from Haechil.
He read the flow of the battle in silence.
When the pirate ships tried to set an angle for a charge, the Goryeo line crossed and blocked the bow path.
Rams collided.
Heavy bolts split command cabins.
Arrow-rain erased places on the deck.
The instant they latched in close, the boarding fighters came over, and swordpoints overturned the situation.
Park Seong-jin seized the gap.
He shifted to a small boat and pressed onto the flank of the toughest enemy ship.
The moment he drew his sword, the deck's momentum snapped.
When the battle was sorted, seven enemy ships had sunk or been taken.
Three turned east and vanished into the fog.
In a single day, the Goryeo sea force broke the band that had been sweeping the southwest coast.