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The field was already engulfed in flames.
The sky burned red, and smoke rose everywhere, stinging the eyes.
Men fell screaming, and human voices remained only as shrieks.
Seodal rode forward with his sword in hand.
There was no one around him.
Of the thousands who had followed him, barely ten remained.
In their eyes burned not the light of battle, but the glow of despair.
"Commander, please—fall back now!" his deputy shouted, but Seodal did not answer.
He stared at the gate of Juseong Fortress, wavering beyond the fire.
The fortress seemed to glare at him like a living beast.
"Everyone, withdraw."
His voice was low and firm.
"From here on, this is my fight."
"Commander—!"
"Go."
The guards hesitated, then bowed and retreated.
But three stayed behind.
Old comrades.
Men who were subordinates, yet closer to friends.
Jang Ye, captain of the cavalry.
Cha Yeon, the archer.
And the young guard who once carried Seodal's banner.
"We will stay with you to the end."
Seodal looked at their faces for a moment.
"Good."
"Then let us die together."
At that moment, a man emerged from the fire and smoke.
His steps were slow, as if burdened by an annoying task.
He did not avoid the scorching wind laden with heat.
His armor was stained with dust and blood, but his eyes were cold.
It was Park Seong-jin.
Seodal recognized him and laughed.
"So you finally come out."
"The man who hid inside the walls, firing arrows—now you step forward yourself?"
Park Seong-jin replied,
"As long as you were still alive, I thought it polite to conserve my blade."
Seodal's eyes flared.
"Good."
"Today, let's speak with swords, not words."
Their blades collided.
Seodal's great saber cleaved the air.
The first strike was like a storm, the second like lightning.
The clash of steel rang louder than the flames across the field.
Seodal stepped back and shouted,
"Even if this land burns, my name will remain!"
Park Seong-jin answered calmly,
"You really talk too much."
In that instant, Cha Yeon slipped to Seodal's left and loosed an arrow.
Park Seong-jin turned his blade and casually knocked it aside.
The deflected arrow flew back and pierced Cha Yeon's neck.
"Aaagh—!"
Jang Ye stepped forward to block the way.
In that split second, Park Seong-jin's eyes flashed.
He lowered his body and charged.
The tip of his blade traced the empty air.
It did not seem fast—yet it struck at the exact moment.
He spun, then slashed like lightning.
Jang Ye's head fell.
A life ended that simply.
"Jang Ye—!" Seodal shouted, but the sound was swallowed by the flames.
Meanwhile, Cha Yeon collapsed, clutching his throat and thrashing.
The young guard threw himself in front of Seodal.
"Commander!"
Park Seong-jin's sword pierced him through.
The body, split deep at the waist, collapsed into Seodal's arms.
Even as he fell, he shielded him.
Hot blood splashed across Seodal's face.
Seodal gathered his last strength and charged.
His blade struck the firelight, drawing a red arc.
Park Seong-jin did not retreat.
At the moment their swords met, steel screamed against steel.
Seodal roared,
"Even if this body dies, my fury will follow your shadow!"
Park Seong-jin shot back,
"I said—you talk too much."
"Just die."
His blade completed a single turn and brushed Seodal's nape.
Just a brush.
An impossibly thin contact.
In that brief instant, all sound ceased.
The flames stilled.
The wind stilled.
Human breath stilled.
Time settled, slow and heavy.
Then—thud.
With a dull sound, Seodal's head rolled to the ground.
From the edge of the curved blade, a pale aura extended more than a foot before slowly fading.
Seodal's body remained kneeling.
As if it had forgotten how to fall, the headless body stayed on its knees—
like a soldier who could not finish the fight.
Moments later, the spreading flames swallowed his corpse.
Park Seong-jin did not leave the spot for a while.
The blood on his hand cooled, but his gaze grew deeper.
When the wind rose, Seodal's banner burned through and collapsed to the ground.
The emblem upon it could no longer be seen.
When the rain stopped, birds cried out from the forest.
Soon after, Park Seong-jin's scouting party passed through the area.
They found a corpse covered in blood and mud, but did not immediately recognize who it was.
Only one sharp-eyed scout checked the face and said quietly,
"It's Seodal."
When the news reached Park Seong-jin, he said nothing.
His expression was light, as if it concerned someone else.
Standing by the window, he looked down at the rain-soaked ground and murmured,
"Death is always more honest than battle."
Above it all, spring rain fell, and grass grew.