Northern Expeditionary Army — Awaiting Departure
Inside a simple field tent shaded only by an awning, Sosam was helping Sowoon into a small suit of armor.
Because of the lingering summer heat, all four sides of the canopy were left open.
"I made this in case the Scholar would come.
Tailored it exactly to your size.
Let's see you try it on.
I knew you'd come.
No matter what people said."
Kind-hearted Sosam stepped behind him, fastening the backplate first, then tying the cords that joined it to the breastplate.
"Lower your head.
Lower it a bit more."
Sowoon obediently bowed his head and drew his shoulders inward to narrow his frame.
Sosam lifted the polished shoulder guards—gleaming faintly in the light—and slipped them down over his head.
Something did not align smoothly.
It did not fit snugly.
"That's strange.
I measured it perfectly…
Hmm… I had it made by a renowned craftsman in the capital.
You're a commander now, aren't you?
Armor should fit your body exactly.
What's going on?"
Sosam muttered to himself as he tugged and adjusted.
"Hold still. Help me out a little."
Seeing him struggle, Yang Johwi stepped in to assist.
It had been a while since the White Dragon Unit had known leisure.
They had camped outside the imperial capital for over a month now.
Training had not ceased.
But most drills had become little more than warm-ups.
When ordered to perform the Tiger Step (虎步), they ran faster than tigers.
When told to hold mounted posture, they endured all day, even laughing through it.
"Why won't this thing go on properly?
Did you even make it right, you 'Little Sam'?"
"Of course I did.
I marked the old armor when I packed it away.
Measured it again just the same…"
"Little Sam, everything you touch turns out like this."
"What do you mean by that?
What did I do wrong?
Still… this really is strange…"
They fussed around Sowoon, who stood like a wooden doll between them, adjusting straps and shifting plates this way and that.
When it still would not fit, they looked at each other.
At the same time, the same thought dawned.
"Ah… right. The Scholar has grown."
"He's grown. Hahaha."
They beamed at the realization, as though they themselves had fed and raised him.
"The Scholar's grown taller!"
Their exclamation drew the attention of passing soldiers, who peeked beneath the awning.
"The Scholar grew taller?
Well, he'll be sixteen next year.
Prime age for growing.
He needs to eat well."
"The Scholar's here? When did you arrive?"
"Scholar! Shouldn't you be preparing for the civil examinations?
Didn't you say you could defend the country all by yourself?"
"Can't you make one piece of armor properly? Is that even armor? Idiot Sosam."
Sowoon only smiled foolishly, a soft grin spreading across his face.
He liked places like this.
A place where everyone was together.
Where hardship was shared.
Where joy was shared.
Where even death could be shared.
Comrades.