Chapter 16 – The Protest
Now it was Park Cheol-guwho protested.
"I was once your superior."
"How dare you treat me like this?"
The word superiormade several of them hesitate.
Sometimes culture itself blocked a man's hand.
So Cheol-ryong bit his lip.
From behind him, Yeong-woo spoke coldly.
"What nonsense are you talking about?"
"When did you ever act like a superior?"
"All you did was steal the supplies meant for your men."
"When did I ever do that?"
"Enough talk."
"Stick out your neck and die."
"I won't do that anymore."
"I swear it."
As he spoke, he edged backward.
"Just die."
Yeong-woo released the bowstring.
Ping.
The arrow shot forward.
Spearmen rushed in from both sides.
Their long spears spun as they advanced, carefully closing the distance.
"Spearmen—split left and right!"
"Yes!"
"Swordsmen—attack in turns!"
"Yes!"
"Archers—fire freely!"
"Yes!"
They fought under the cover of the archers.
Such a thing was only possible when men trusted one another completely.
More than ten men spread out and pressed the attack.
Park Cheol-gu swung his blade and charged.
"I only need one of you!"
If he slaughtered one brutally, the rest would retreat.
That was his expectation.
His target was So Cheol-ryong.
Two men rushed him at once.
He charged bravely.
But when two blades struck at the same time, his rhythm faltered.
Steel flashed from both sides.
One stabbed.
The other slashed.
Their coordination was precise.
Better than he had expected.
Their techniques were not flashy.
But they never missed an opening.
They had chosen capable fighters.
And for hired guards, their loyalty burned bright.
They trusted the man behind them.
Gyeong-taek gritted his teeth and held the line.
Sparks burst.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
He began to lose ground.
His feet scraped the dirt as he slid backward.
Then suddenly—
the low blade vanished from sight.
Next moment—
"Ah!"
A short scream burst out.
Gyeong-taek staggered.
His calf split open.
Blood sprayed.
One knee dropped.
He still held his sword,
but his balance collapsed.
Two enemies lunged at once.
A killing strike.
The breath of Yeong-woo's men stopped.
The line faltered.
If this continued, one of them would fall.
Then—
"Taek, fall back!"
Yeong-woo's shout tore across the battlefield.
It sounded as if his throat would rip apart.
At the same instant, Cheol-ryong's hwando flashed like lightning.
It forced its way between the two blades.
He split them apart.
Clang.
Steel rang as both swords flew aside.
Cheol-un stepped forward.
Pressed the attack.
He did not stop.
His blade crushed one man's wrist.
Another slash tore across the second man's shoulder.
Blood burst.
The battlefield hesitated.
The momentum changed.
Just moments before,
Gyeong-taek had been the one retreating.
Now it was them.
Yeong-woo stepped forward.
His eyes had changed.
"One at a time."
He spoke quietly.
His comrades breathed again.
Waiting for the moment,
Yeong-woo stepped back.
He raised his bow.
Drew.
Released.
The arrow flew into the brief gap that appeared when the enemy relaxed.
It struck a man in the chest.
Blood exploded red in the dim evening light.
The heart.
Instant death.
Elsewhere, So Cheol-un and his brother were attacking Park Cheol-gu.
Under normal circumstances they could not have faced him.
But courage had multiplied their strength.
With a shieldman beside them, they matched him evenly.
The shield slammed forward.
The spear thrust.
When blocked, the sword slipped into the opening.
The shield struck again.
Park Cheol-gu retreated.
An arrow suddenly struck his leg.
The quick movement made the shot land in an awkward place.
Park Cheol-gu faltered.
A shield smashed into his back.
He staggered.
His hwando swept backward wildly.
No one should rush that attack—
Cheol-ryong raised his arm just in time.
His arm guard barely stopped the blade.
A spear hooked around Park Cheol-gu's leg.
A shield smashed into him again.
This time it struck cleanly.
He fell.
A spear drove down toward him—
Then one of the enemy guards who had been retreating suddenly lunged at Cheol-un.
Cheol-un blocked perfectly as he stepped back.
It was dangerous.
But ignoring it would be worse.
"Everyone back!"
Yeong-woo shouted.
Instantly his men retreated.
"Fire!"
At Yeong-woo's command,
four archers released their arrows.
The shots cut through the brief lull between clashes.
At this distance,
there was no way to evade them.
Unless the enemy rushed forward and tangled himself among Yeong-woo's men.
But they did not.
One arrow struck the guard's shoulder.
Another pierced his side.
A third arrow punched through Park Cheol-gu's back.
When killing a commander,
it always began with a few arrows.
"Keep your distance."
Cheol-ryong, who had nearly died, almost shouted Yes, sir!in reply.
Gratitude welled up in his chest.
His life had just been saved.
The soldiers surrounded the enemies.
The men could not even counterattack now.
Yet their faces remained vicious.
Years of cruelty had carved themselves into those expressions.
Cheol-un looked at Yeong-woo.
"You want to finish it?"
"I can't refuse."
Yeong-woo slid his bow onto his back.
His hand moved behind him.
He drew his hwando.
The blade hummed low in the air.
He swung downward.
Then—
the dying guard staggered forward.
The hwando crushed down on the man's sword.
Steel exploded.
The weapon flew from his hand and clattered across the ground.
Yet the guard did not retreat.
He staggered,
but still blocked the path before Park Cheol-gu.
Blood ran from his mouth.
Only his eyes remained alive.
He blocked the way with his life.
Yeong-woo's lips twisted.
Such loyalty—
for a man like that.
Cheol-ryong rushed forward and pulled the guard aside.
The exhausted body collapsed.
The path opened.
Yeong-woo's hwando moved again.
He stepped onto Park Cheol-gu's throat.
The blade searched the narrow gap between armor and jaw.
Cold steel touched flesh.
"Kh—"
Park Cheol-gu's neck bent backward.
Yeong-woo pushed.
The blade struck the hard rim of armor.
It slid.
Touched bone.
Crack.
A dry sound.
Park Cheol-gu's long face turned pale.
His eyes widened.
Yeong-woo pushed harder.
It had to go in.
With that force, the life would end.
But it would not enter.
The blade stopped.
A powerful grip seized his shoulder from behind.
It was Baek In-gyeom, the Immortal.
"Enough."
A short, firm voice.
Yeong-woo clenched his teeth.
"Let go."
"No further."
The tendons in his arm bulged.
Yeong-woo shifted the sword to his left hand.
Twisted his body.
Tried to push again.
But the force pulling him back was stronger.
The blade scraped the skin.
Stopped.
His breath came out ragged.
The smell of blood and iron filled the air.
Baek In-gyeom spoke again.
"Enough."
Yeong-woo's arm trembled.
The blade hung in the air.
It was not defeat.
But restraint.
Even so,
to Yeong-woo,
it felt like failure.
More Immortals arrived and drove Yeong-woo's group back.
Knowing their skill,
they had no choice but to retreat.
"Leave."
"If you withdraw now, this will go no further."
"What connection do you have with him?"
"Private vengeance is forbidden."
It was the command of the man who had saved their lives.
Yeong-woo lowered his head and turned away.
That bastard survived again.
Some men simply did.
Not far away,
two soldiers from the West Gate quietly slipped away.
No one even knew when they had arrived.
Had they been there all along?
For a moment Yeong-woo wondered
if this had been another trick
from the cunning Seo Ui-taek.