Chapter 135 — Delegation Brings Space; Study Continues in Daily Life
There had been many things to do, yet nothing seemed to move.
Frustration, irritation, unease, and impatience pressed down on his chest.
Then, at some point, it all loosened.
It felt as if the heavy burden he had carried since leaving Goryeo had been lifted at once.
Kim Yun-gyeong handled things exceptionally well.
From a distance, it seemed as though there was spare time, yet when tasks were listed and aligned to the schedule, everything was tight.
Even with effort, it was barely enough.
No matter how well things were done, they still felt insufficient, because the work of founding a state was being forced into fixed dates.
It was never something that could be bound to a deadline.
Talk of heavenly timing made the schedule even tighter.
Others were busy, while he alone found space.
A smile rose naturally.
He sat idly on a warm spring hillside.
His study deepened.
What remained now was the Upper Dantian.
Whatever came after, for now he focused on refining the Middle Dantian he had already pierced.
This was not a mere change in sensation.
His very mode of being had changed.
First, resonance.
He knew without seeing.
Before sight, the chest responded.
Even without words, intention revealed itself, and the enemy's force arrived first.
By mere presence, he pressed upon others.
With a glance, the flow of battle shifted.
It was, in essence, fighting with energy.
Third, movement disappeared.
The entire body moved as a single flow, a single mass.
There was no loss of force.
Fourth, the issuing of force had changed.
It was not striking, but force pushing outward from the center.
Short, yet deep.
The moment it touched, it shook the opponent's interior.
War was the same.
He no longer saw individual battles, but the whole.
Not separate clashes, but the flow itself.
He could see at a glance where to strike to break that flow.
It was akin to grasping the vital vein.
Various strange phenomena also appeared.
Some were clear.
The opponent's attacks appeared slow.
Even the fastest strike could be handled as though time had stopped.
Even among many enemies, a path appeared.
It was the same flow as grasping the vital point.
In urgent moments, the body moved first.
Judgment preceded thought.
Yeongu devoted himself to examining and understanding his changed self.
Even when performing the same techniques, they manifested differently.
He sat on an empty hill for one or two hours at a time.
On some days, he stayed up through the night.
When it was time to eat, the duty officer came.
He sometimes sent him away out of annoyance.
When meetings arose, he delegated them to others.
Often, the duty officer followed him with food, a tent, and bedding.
Aguda had a tent set up not far from where he stayed.
He restrained his subordinates and postponed most matters.
The flow of study had to continue.
Though it was not the mountains, the conditions were the same as studying there.
Chapter 130 — Creating the Iron Pagoda Cavalry
Yeongu placed great importance on the breakthrough power of the Iron Pagoda cavalry, which had split the enemy at the Battle of Chuhajeom.
He had experienced firsthand how it changed the nature of war.
His experience as a low-ranking soldier exposed to concentrated enemy fire drove him to focus on armor production.
In the afternoons, he repeatedly studied ways to strengthen military power with the Jurchen commanders.
They had already agreed that the strongest form of warfare at the time was heavy cavalry.
The problem was how to fund it.
Yeongu insisted that even creating one more soldier mattered.
Rather than distributing resources evenly, even if there were only one Iron Pagoda unit, it had to be perfectly equipped.
Though those who favored arithmetic equality resisted, Yeongu's argument prevailed.
The first thing that caught the eye was the color.
Dark iron, soaked with oil, glistened softly.
It did not flash in sunlight.
It seemed to swallow light and settle heavily.
The armor was made of layered iron plates.
Not broad sheets, but overlapping like scales.
With movement, they shifted subtly, flowing with the body.
The chest was heavily reinforced.
An additional plate was set at the center, layered to prevent immediate penetration.
Shoulder guards extended long, designed to catch spears and arrows from horseback.
Iron Pagoda.
With each movement, the plates clashed with a low sound.
The arms were not fully enclosed.
Elbows and wrists were left open, while narrow plates were woven tightly for flexibility.
Below the waist, the armor extended downward, covering the thighs when mounted.
It did not hinder sitting, and when standing, it locked firmly again.
The back was not flat, but slightly curved, designed to deflect impact.
The helmet did not fully cover the face; the eyes remained visible.
Yet the forehead, temples, and back of the head were heavily protected.
What stood out most was the sound.
Each movement produced a ringing of iron.
Not loud.
Short and heavy.
When many gathered, the sound could be recognized from afar.
It was the Iron Pagoda.
Horse and armor were bound as one.
The horse was armored as well.
Head, chest, and neck were protected.
Man and horse became a single mass.
Not separate.
One mass.
A force that pushed forward.
Before the blade touched, the weight struck first.
When they charged, pressure was felt before sound.
— The Making of the Iron Pagoda
The armor was not made in one place.
Iron had to be gathered from many regions.
What came from the Jurchens alone was not enough.
Processing was done in multiple places, but assembly was done in the field.
Parts were produced across regions and assembled on-site.
There were three ways to obtain iron.
Plunder from Liao, trade with Goryeo, or import from Song.
Because sources varied, production methods differed.
Uniformity was impossible.
Instead, methods were taught, and components were made across regions.
Like casting coins, small iron plates were produced everywhere.
Each plate had metal loops for fastening with leather cords.
This allowed for easy replacement and quick repair.
Assembly was done at the unit level in the field.
It could be tailored to each individual's body.
Not uniform, but practical.
The greatest strength of the Iron Pagoda was that even the horses were armored.
Distributed parts were assembled by each tribal unit.
They fought, seized equipment, and reforged it into armor plates.
Armor from Goryeo and equipment from Liao were transformed into Jurchen armor.
Iron gathered in one place.
At first, it was nothing.
Fragments of different shapes and sizes, brought from everywhere.
Some had stripped plates from Liao soldiers,
some had broken down iron from Goryeo,
others had shattered hunting blades.
Their colors differed.
Black, red, rusted, oil-soaked and faintly gleaming.
Piled together, they no longer looked like tools.
They looked like discarded remnants.
The fire was lit.
A smith took one piece and placed it in the fire.
After a moment, he took it out.
He struck it with a hammer.
Flattened it.
Short work.
Three strikes, four.
No more.
He tossed it aside.
The next piece went in.
Taken out.
Struck again.
They did not shape them identically.
They did not match sizes.
They simply made them usable.
Beside him, another threaded leather cords.
Piercing holes, hooking one plate, tying again.
Neither fast nor slow.
The hands simply did not stop.
At some point, they began to connect.
One became two, two became three, three became a line.
Lines overlapped.
Overlap spread.
Spread covered the body.
Someone lifted it.
Not heavy.
Yet solid.
When moved, the plates overlapped subtly.
No gaps were visible.
The scattered fragments vanished.
In their place stood a single form.
Another approached.
Placed it on the horse's neck.
Covered the chest.
Iron connected again.
Man and horse became one mass.
Someone struck it with a hand.
A dull sound rang out.
Short and heavy.
That sound echoed everywhere.
The sound of iron joining.
Things from different places
became one in a single place.
Their shapes were not the same.
Yet the flow was one.