He decided to use civilian boats and the captured Japanese ships.
Park Seong-jin went to the yard where the Japanese ships were being repaired.
He meant to refit the captured vessels into friendly warships.
Goryeo had large boats too, grain-transport ships and the like.
People said he only had to request them.
It was not that simple.
"We have to use them again as transport ships."
"The hull shapes are different, so conversion is difficult."
"If you use them in battle, they'll be damaged."
The officials let the raiders take them, yet refused to hand them over to their own side.
They were dogs.
Park Seong-jin hated internal quarrels.
He spoke less.
He decided to use civilian boats and the captured Japanese ships.
The Japanese ships were large.
The first thing people said was that they could not be used as-is.
They said repairs and conversion would take too much work.
Park Seong-jin brought timber, provided food, and assigned manpower.
He helped as much as he could.
He needed even one more ship.
Only then could he catch the ones who fled onto the water and crush them.
Fighting in the southern sea was impossible without ships.
The work crawled.
Even after looking every day, progress barely showed.
Up on land, the captured Japanese ship looked even bigger and more oppressive.
Park Seong-jin stared at its bulk, hope rising.
Reality moved slowly.
The future they wanted did not come easily.
He perched on a bench in the shipyard and stared at the sea, sleep flooding him.
He leaned against whatever was near and let his body sink.
He wanted to close his eyes for just a moment.
The sentry approached quietly and draped something over him.
Park Seong-jin fell into deep sleep the instant he lay down with his arm as a pillow.
When the sun rose and the light pierced his eyelids, he opened his eyes.
The sentry stood beside him, using his own body to cast shade so the sunlight would not hit his face.
Park Seong-jin exhaled without a word.
The world turns on unseen help.
Victory does not stand on a single hand.
Somewhere, some invisible consideration keeps him alive.
From far off came the sound of soldiers' steps.
A group ran in, dressed their ranks, and adjusted spacing.
Daily training began.
Empty-hand forms, sword motions, spear motions—
and the repeated pull of a bowstring with no bow, no arrows.
Morning routine.
Repeated even in war.
Park Seong-jin nodded.
People harden through repetition.
The Arrival of Daehan's Fleet
From the far end of the sea where the fog had not fully lifted, a huge ship entered the harbor.
It moved slowly, firmly, gliding in.
The oars carved deep grooves that remained on the surface like a road.
Layered silhouettes drifted faintly through the sunlight.
The sentry came up carefully and said,
"General, ships are coming. We received word that Daehan's ships would arrive at dawn. Elder Kim went out to welcome them."
Park Seong-jin's head snapped up.
The hull outline, struck by sunlight head-on, burned clear into his sight.
A small Goryeo guide boat led the way in front.
His mind cleared in an instant.
It felt like a knotted thread clicking loose.
He sprang to his feet.
On the distant, swaying deck stood two men.
Daehan's naval commander Chen Cong (陳聰).
Zhang Shiyi (張士義).
Park Seong-jin drew in a breath.
He shouted to the sentry, firm and sharp,
"It's Daehan's fleet. Gather the entire army to receive them."
"Loyalty."
A horn blared across the harbor.
Pwooooooo—.
The bowl-shaped cove echoed as one.
Drums followed.
Doom, doom—doomdoomdoom.
Doom, doom—doomdoomdoom.
Soldiers in mid-training poured out and formed ranks.
Officers ran out in lines.
"Loyalty."
"Loyalty."
"Loyalty."
The harbor filled with shouts.
Behind the leading large warship, another vessel entered.
Then another.
Then another cleaved the water.
Park Seong-jin's eyes widened.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
It was not many.
These ships were not reinforcements by number.
They were a concept of supply.
His mouth opened with heat, and he pressed it down.
Hope had to reach the soldiers first.
A commander's joy came after.
He inhaled deeply.
"They've come."
The wind in the harbor flipped once more.
---*
When the ships touched the sandy shore of Haechil Harbor (海漆浦), Chen Cong (陳聰) stepped down first from the prow of Daehan's large warship.
He wore no armor, yet everyone felt a general had descended—
broad shoulders, an unbent waist, movement held by continental force.
The moment Chen Cong's foot met the sand, the Daehan officers behind him dropped to both knees and cried out,
"The Commander (都督) has arrived!"
A short silence settled.
Chen Cong's gaze fixed on a single man approaching from afar.
Park Seong-jin.
They stopped at a measured distance.
Silence passed once.
Chen Cong spoke without raising his voice,
"Hero of Goryeo, Middle-Rank Commander Park (朴中郎將). Our soldiers said they wished to see you first."
Park Seong-jin offered the proper courtesy in silence.
Relief and gladness swelled deep in his face like a tide.
Chen Cong smiled lightly.
"Your name has spread beyond the south and north of the river, all the way into Daehan's court."
He continued,
"I came to drink a cup with you."
Then, uncharacteristically warm for a commander, he added,
"It would be a shame to arrive empty-handed, so I brought a little."
Chen Cong lifted his hand and gestured behind.
The second man to step down was Zhang Shiyi (張士義).
He waved from far off as he came down, tongue loose, expression lively, with the same ratlike look.
Still—he was welcome.
He had come to help.
A person is measured more by what he does than by how he looks.
He took a gulp of water and shouted at once,
"Lord Park—thank heavens you're alive."
He caught his breath once and said,
"The Japanese raiders are calling you an evil ghost."
Park Seong-jin blinked, awkward.
Zhang Shiyi did not pause.
"This expedition was decided directly by His Majesty."
He raised a finger and counted behind him.
"Even in Daehan's court, they said Goryeo is owed a great debt, so the support was approved."
Park Seong-jin looked at him without speaking.
Zhang Shiyi coughed once and extended his arm toward the fleet.
Behind him, three groups of specialists were disembarking in a line.
Twelve artillery craftsmen (火砲匠) came first.
Their forearms were thick, and the smell of metal filings clung to them.
Shovels, heavy hammers, and casting molds (鑄型) hung from their packs.
An elderly master (火匠) at the front bowed.
"We brought eight improved cannons used at Poyang Lake, and fourteen medium guns.
The gun carriages can be made here."
Six gunpowder craftsmen (火藥匠) followed, black cloth bags slung over their shoulders.
One bowed to Park Seong-jin.
"Range is twice that of standard guns. Power is three times."
Twenty-four shipwrights (造船工) came last.
One of them looked up at the ships and said,
"These ships are hard to use as they are."
He ran his fingertips along the hull.
"The frame is strong.
With work, they become Daehan–Goryeo allied warships."
Chen Cong stepped forward again.
"We don't have much surplus, so we couldn't send more."
He went on,
"We brought only key people—so they can teach, and you can build your own.
We also brought military advisors."
When the introductions ended, Park Seong-jin stayed silent for a long moment.
Then he said, short and rough with weight,
"…Thank you. Truly, thank you."
Chen Cong laughed loudly.
"If you're grateful, buy me a drink tonight."
Behind him Zhang Shiyi cut in quickly,
"Lord Park—His Majesty read your letter and said this."
Zhang Shiyi looked Park Seong-jin straight in the eye.
"This friend does not seek my profit."
He pressed the next line down with a full breath.
"Which is why we must help him."
The wind seemed to stop for a beat.