The vanguard rode far ahead.
Dust kicked up by their hooves blanketed the sky. Waymarkers set along the road were buried in dust, their colors bleached away. Red banners and blue alike had faded to the color of earth.
The closer they came to the battlefield, the farther it seemed to recede.There was even a sense of peace.
Before blood was spilled, the time leading up to it was more painful. Endless marching, repeated commands, tying and untying ropes only to tie them again. That grinding labor gnawed at men sooner than death ever could.
Perhaps they knew this as well.
Perhaps the soldiers were being brought deliberately to that state. A war that wears down not the body first, but the will.
Seongjin studied the road carefully. No matter how far they went, the scenery looked the same. Still, he memorized the shadows of the hills, the folds of the plain, the trunks of trees, the direction of the wind—hoping that if he were left alone, he might find his way back.
"We've encountered the enemy."
The words traveled down the rear of the column.
The vanguard had made contact—but where, how, how many—no one knew.
They marched like the blind.
When ordered to move, they moved; when told to halt, they halted. Even as death approached, they could not see it. Even as it passed, they could not feel it.
That afternoon, the Great General raised his hand and issued an order.
"Send more vanguard."
Dozens of soldiers ran forward at once.
Even those on sentry duty were pulled in. They ran to report, ran out again, returned—over and over, without end.
Mounted, the Great General received reports and pressed the march on.
"Do not slow the pace.""Dress the line!"
The village they passed vanished.
There were no houses, no people. Smoke and fields, even smells, were gone. Only earth, wind, and dust remained. Forests and plains alternated, the trees growing shorter, the land drier.
This was Liaodong.
The edge of the continent—and another beginning.
As the first reports of contact faded into uncertainty, the Great General shouted,
"Build the camp!"
The soldiers moved as one.
They unsaddled horses and turned carts into position. They did not settle just anywhere. They read the terrain and measured the wind, placing shield-bearers and spearmen along the outer ring. Inside, archers and crossbowmen were set, forming a triple-layered defense.
"Raise the palisade!""Turn the wagons—make a wall!"
The drums sounded.
Dong— dong— dong—.
Cavalry rode the perimeter.
They charged out and returned, advanced again and came back. The movement continued until the sun slanted low—until there was no opening left for an enemy charge, until the Great General was satisfied.
Seongjin watched all of it through the dust.
His breath caught, his arms numbed, but he could not stop. He believed that once these preparations were complete, real battle would finally begin.
But as time passed, even that belief wore thin.
Just let us fight already.
That prayer lay in the soldiers' eyes.