"Ironclad cavalry—advance!"
At the command, the earth roared again.
Horses sheathed in iron exhaled low, heavy breaths. A rank stench seeped from the seams of armor. Man and mount moved as a single mass of metal.
"Charge—!"
Kkwa-gwa-gwa-gwang—!
The ground overturned.
Hooves struck the earth like stone pillars. Barricades shuddered. Red banners tore. Two bodies of horses smashed chest to chest. Iron and flesh tangled. Spears snapped; shields flipped. Bodies rebounded and slammed into the dirt.
While the flanking enemy was checked by the side defenses, the ironclads drove straight into the front.
"Hold—don't give—!"
The shout broke off.
The camp shook.
The left wing's wagon wall collapsed, and through the gap the enemy poured in.
"Left side—breach!"
The gap entered Seongjin's sight.
A space choked with dust and blood; through it, enemy banners surged like waves.
He knew.
Now it was real.
"Blades out!"
Oh Jinchul's shout cut through.
Seongjin drew the saber at his waist. The blade flashed once in the sun. The hilt was slick with blood and sweat—and soon even that sensation vanished.
The first enemy leapt in.
Black eyes under an iron helm. A mouth spraying spit and dirt.
A spearpoint lunged for Seongjin's chest.
The body moved first.
He ducked and raised the blade vertically.
Iron struck iron—a short shock.
A heavy vibration slammed into his fingertips.
The spear shaft broke.
Seongjin drove the blade forward.
It was not iron this time, but flesh—the sound of tearing.
It was more fragile than he'd expected.
Blood splashed his face.
Warm. Suffocating.
"Fall back!"
The shout came, but there was nowhere to fall back to.
Horses went down; soldiers collided and fell. Even without a blade, bodies crushed bodies to death.
Seongjin lifted the sword again.
Front and back disappeared.
Enemy and ally blurred.
Only sound remained—
screams, iron, blood, wind, drums.
"Seongjin!"
Oh Jinchul's voice burst from the dust.
He ran in and seized Seongjin's shoulder.
"Back—!"
Seongjin didn't hear him.
The blade had already begun and would not stop.
Once.Twice.Three times.
There was too much blood.
Then a spear flew.
Oh Jinchul shoved him aside.
The spearhead punched through Oh Jinchul's flank.
"Sir—!"
Seongjin's voice cracked.
Oh Jinchul smiled, blood filling his mouth.
"Now… you know what a fight is."
Before the words finished, his body pitched forward.
Strength drained out.
Drums and shouts receded.
Seongjin raised the blood-slick blade.
The sun was shattering like blood.
Flames swallowed the wagons.
A wheel burst. Bundles of arrows collapsed.
Kkwa-gwa-gwang—!
A ball of fire leapt into the air.
Light scattered like rain.
Horses screamed; armor overheated. Some were engulfed in flame; others climbed over the bodies and rose.
Seongjin upended his quiver.
He grabbed and threw whatever came to hand.
There was no time to draw a string.
One arrow wobbled through the air and buried itself in someone's face.
The scream was short.
"Back—!"
But there was no direction.
A soldier fell ahead.
A spear punched through his abdomen and burst out the back.
Seongjin grabbed the shaft.
Yanked it free.
Blood fountained.
He drove it straight into the enemy's face.
Puhk—.
The enemy collapsed.
Hooves came down.
Iron and blood fused into one noise.
Seongjin found his blade again in that gap.
Only then did his fingertips begin to tremble.
A massive shadow blocked his way.
An enemy soldier in iron.
Firelight reflected in his eyes.
Seongjin dropped low and drove in at the waist.
Iron rang.
They fell together.
His arm cinched around the man's neck.
He squeezed until the breath ran out.
Blood spattered his face.
He did not close his eyes.
The body slackened.
He stayed like that for a long time.
Even the wind seemed to stop.
From far off came shouts.
The ironclads' banner was falling.
A burning wagon tilted.
Firelight wavered over the dust.
And there stood Seongjin—
face coated in blood and ash,
only the eyes clear.
At last, he let the sword go.
It struck the dirt.
A short ring of metal.
Seongjin stared into the air.
A single burning arrow cut the sky.
Until that light went out—
he did not breathe.