Kkwa-gwa-gwa-gwa-gwang—
The ground shuddered violently.
The enemy vanguard slammed head-on into the flank of the allied line. Iron struck iron, sparks burst, and blood scattered into the air with the dust.
Because they had prepared, the damage was not great.
The enemy's spearhead had already been blunted by the crossbows. Their charge had dulled, and the allied defenses received that dulled blade precisely as intended.
Hwang Hyeon-pil raised his hand high.
"Range fifty paces! Fifty paces! Prepare to fire!"
His voice cut through the wind.
The crossbowmen dropped low as one.
From the main force, the command followed.
"Fire!"
Strings were drawn again.
Steel cords rang tight. Arms trembled, but eyes had already gone hard.
"Fifty paces—fire!"
At Hwang Hyeon-pil's shout, the bolts burst forth like an explosion.
"Fifty paces—fire!""Fifty paces—fire!""Fifty paces—fire!"
The echo of the call drowned out the roar.
The bolts aimed for the enemy's rear.
Each time they struck the back of the charging ranks, horses screamed and collapsed.
Dudung— dudung— dudung—
Enemy drums thundered from beneath the earth.
To that rhythm, soldiers' hands moved.
One shout.One pull.One release.
The entire battlefield vibrated like a single enormous drum.
Pipipipiping—
Hundreds of heavy bolts tore through the air. Each rain of arrows drove horses to their knees; men tripped over one another and fell.
A mass of the enemy shattered on the soil like a breaking wave.
Over them, allied arrows fell again.
The sky was already red.
The wind was thick with the smell of blood, iron, and burning powder.
"Shields forward!""Spearmen advance!"
Shield-bearers rushed in.
Spearmen followed close behind.
They dismounted, bracing carts and shields together. Between the shields, long spear points leveled toward the enemy, blades flashing as they cut the wind.
"Cavalry—stand by!"
The armored riders surged forward like a gust.
Twilight shattered across their armor. Red blood clung to every spear tip.
They were still waiting—for the order.
Seongjin watched them.
His ears were numbed by drums and shouts, yet his chest was strangely calm.
For the first time, he felt the order of battle.
Death created order,and that order, in turn, fed on death.
From afar, Hwang Hyeon-pil shouted,
"Don't stop! Now!"
Seongjin raised his crossbow without thinking.
His hand drew the string again.
It was not strength.Not thought.
It was instinct.
In that instant, he understood—
this fighthad not even truly begun yet.