Chapter 13 – Park Geun-su's Defense
Yeong-woo had said he would at least shoot arrows.
Soon enough, that moment came.
The enemy had prepared for this.
They charged forward raising clouds of dust.
Usually the enemy tested the defenses first.
They would ride close, loose arrows while maneuvering, and watch for the response.
But today was different.
The moment the dust rose, they rushed straight toward the South Gate.
And there were many of them.
"They're coming! Prepare to fire!"
The shout came from the gate tower.
The archers outside the barricades nocked arrows to their strings.
"Beat the drums!"
Boom.
Boom-boom.
Boom-boom-boom.
A headache.
Why were these bastards attacking the South Gate again and again?
Fate.
And neither the East Gate nor the West Gate would come to help.
The enemy wanted it that way.
A group of cavalry crossing the caltrop field suddenly collapsed.
Those riding behind them managed to pass.
The ground still showed the marks of newly dug traps.
Some riders hesitated, suspecting spike pits.
But the pressure from those behind forced them forward.
Horse and rider tumbled into the pits.
They struggled wildly.
Every movement drove the buried spikes deeper into their bodies.
The more they struggled to live,
the faster they died.
Hell.
Perhaps this was the true shape of hell.
Even as the pits collapsed and revealed themselves,
the enemy pushed forward between them.
"Fire!"
At Park Geun-su's command, arrows flew toward the enemy's front ranks.
From below, the attackers were exposed.
Arrows fell on them from the front.
And from above.
"Fire!"
With each signal the arrow storm thickened.
The enemy's plan to charge straight in collapsed.
Yesterday those traps had not existed.
Nor the caltrop field.
A visible enemy could always be fought.
But unseen traps crushed a soldier's spirit.
Only narrow paths remained.
Barely wide enough for two men walking shoulder to shoulder.
Everywhere else the ground had been hollowed out.
Deep pits.
Spikes planted in the earth.
Branches laid across them.
Then a thin layer of dirt.
Those who fell in never climbed out again.
Why had that fool not thought of this yesterday?
Shooting from the wall, Yeong-woo felt the difference between commanders.
People said one man was the same as another.
But it was not true.
He drew his bow.
A line of enemy soldiers advanced through the narrow path.
He released.
The arrow struck a man in the chest.
The rider fell.
Thud.
Ping.
Clatter.
The air filled with sounds no words could fully describe.
Each sound meant another enemy falling.
Once they passed the traps,
another obstacle waited.
Rows of deer-horn barricadesblocked the way.
The enemy threw ropes around them and dragged them aside.
Many men had raised the barricades together.
But two horses could pull them away.
Even as they struggled,
arrows fell among them again.
This time from the barricades themselves.
If they feared arrows from the walls,
they were struck from the front.
If they avoided that,
the traps killed them instead.
Still.
If they could pass this place,
they would break through.
The Jurchen cavalry spurred their horses forward.
The endless march of death continued.
A commander could pour soldiers into it without limit.
If victory could be taken,
they would throw away every life necessary.
Park Geun-su scanned the battlefield.
"There!"
"Do you see him?"
"The big one under the tiger banner!"
All eyes turned.
A massive ballista slowly turned toward the target.
Yeong-woo's gaze followed it.
Park Geun-su shouted like a madman.
"Kill that bastard!"
"Bring him down!"
Even the best archer would struggle to strike a moving commander.
With a giant ballista, it was nearly impossible.
Yet Park Geun-su shouted the order again and again.
Gyeong-taek muttered,
"If we don't kill him, that fool will explode."
Yeong-woo, standing nearby, murmured,
"Then let's give it to him."
He loosed an arrow toward the enemy commander.
A high arc.
It might reach.
"See? It reaches."
He called to the other archers.
"Even that huge machine can't hit him."
"So we'll do it ourselves."
"Let's drop that commander."
"Our newly promoted Lieutenant Park deserves to breathe."
"If Park-Seobang asks, shouldn't we give it to him?"
A clueless recruit muttered,
"Who's Park-Seobang?"
At that exact moment their eyes met.
Before curses could erupt,
dozens of arrows flew upward.
Two ballistae fired from the left tower.
And then a miracle happened.
The enemy commander—
a man called Man-no—
fell from his horse.
"He fell!"
"The commander is down!"
Park Geun-su leaned out over the wall.
It was true.
The tiger banner had vanished.
"Fire again!"
"Finish him!"
Dozens more arrows rained down on the fallen commander.
Gyeong-taek shouted,
"For Park-Seobang!"
"Park-Seobang!"
"Park-Seobang!"
"Park-Seobang!"
"Park-Seobang!"
"Park-Seobang!"
The tide of battle changed instantly.
The fiercely attacking Jurchen forces began to fall back.
Blind luck.
A newly promoted officer had slain the enemy commander.
It had been chance.
Yet it also looked like the result of perfect strategy.
"Park-Seobang."
The soldiers called him that.
Like a son-in-law who had not yet fully earned respect.
But this was a victorious battlefield.
Their tone carried affection.
They wanted the man who rose from among them
to keep rising.
Park Geun-su puffed his cheeks in embarrassment,
but he could not hide his satisfaction.
He praised the archers on the wall
and sent a messenger to report the victory.