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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 6
Chapter Title: Great King Namsaeng
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That was how I ended up killing people. Five of them, at that. In novels, you could slaughter millions without a shred of guilt. But right in front of me trembled five slaves, pale with terror. Yeon Gaesomun watched alongside his younger sons, Nam-san and Nam-geon. And countless other slaves looked on as well.
"Is this a dream? Or reality?"
A tangled mix of dread and fear made my hand shake as I gripped the sword.
Yeon Gaesomun's gaze upon me was no less intense. The blade felt disgustingly heavy. Then Geom Mojam approached from the side, wiping the edge clean with a cloth as he whispered,
"You need to finish this quickly."
"What did you say?"
"If you don't end it soon, even you, young master, will be in danger."
"So you're telling me to kill them?"
"Is there any other way?"
It was a bold question, but not wrong. This wasn't some dramatic scene from a TV show where I could fling the sword away in a heroic flourish. Doing that would only fuel the suspicions that I'd already changed, making things far worse.
"No... there isn't."
"Then hurry and get it done. It's best for everyone."
At Geom Mojam's words, I turned to the five slaves awaiting execution.
"Those people?"
"And the ones over there, too."
Geom Mojam nodded toward a group of dozens, all in ragged clothes, tears streaming down their faces.
"Who are they?"
"The families and loved ones of the slaves to be executed."
"This is insane."
"They'll be sold off to the farthest reaches now."
"Where to?"
"The ends of the earth. The children and women probably won't survive the first year. So it's kinder to behead them swiftly and painlessly. Better for everyone."
I swallowed hard at Geom Mojam's firm words. Whether this was a novel, a dream, or reality, there was no escape. If I refused to behead the runaway slaves, the consequences would be disastrous. My position as Yeon Gaesomun's eldest son would crumble, and everything would be over. From what I gathered, even before I possessed this body, Yeon Namsaeng hadn't earned much trust.
"And if I refuse to behead these slaves right now...?"
I glanced up at Yeon Gaesomun. He seemed ordinary at first, but now his ruthlessness was plain. Doubting Yeon Namsaeng, he'd devised this test himself. I could feel the message in his eyes: fail this, and you're done.
"I'm screwed."
I even regretted not getting hurt worse back at the market—something quick and painless. Geom Mojam finished cleaning the sword and stepped back. I swallowed again, nearly choking. Barely holding it together, I felt the stinging glares of the crowd. Unable to stall any longer, I raised the sword. Namsaeng must have trained some, because I could lift it with effort. I approached the elderly man at the far right among the condemned slaves and knelt on one knee. Gasps rose from behind, but I ignored them.
"What's your name?"
The old man, trembling at my voice, lifted his head. One eye was swollen nearly shut from beatings. After I repeated the question, he finally spoke.
"Deongcha-o. Here, they called me Deong-soe."
"I understand wanting to return home. But I have no choice."
"O-Of course. How could anyone survive and escape from here?"
His voice hung between resignation and fear. I looked down at the ground for a moment, then met his gaze.
"In exchange, I promise you this."
"What do you mean, young master?"
"Your family back there—they won't be sent to the frontier."
The old man's remaining eye lit up.
"R-Really?"
"I swear it on the name of Yeon Taehwan—no, Yeon Namsaeng. And I'll create a world where your children and their descendants never live as slaves."
In novels, I'd written scenes like this plenty of times. I knew just what to say. The old man shed thick tears.
"Thank you."
The man who'd begged for his life moments ago changed with those words. He believed his family would be spared. A line straight out of one of my novels had become reality. Rising to my feet, I repeated the promise to the other slaves.
"Your families won't face collective punishment. So accept your deaths in peace."
The murmuring slaves nodded as Deong-soe translated into Chinese. I met each of their eyes, slinging the sword over my shoulder. For the first time—not in a novel, but in reality—I had to kill. As I stood beside him, Deong-soe stretched out his neck. Raising the sword high, I glanced at my father, Yeon Gaesomun. Then, in one swift stroke, I severed the old man's head.
-Serack!
The sound was nothing like movie effects. Holding my breath, I beheaded the next slave. He, too, extended his neck to meet death. Just like that, I executed all five without pause. Thankfully, Namsaeng's training and build made it manageable. In the blink of an eye, five headless corpses lay before me. I slammed the blood- and grime-smeared sword into the ground and approached the wailing families. They stifled their sobs as I neared. Kneeling before them amid the murmurs, I declared boldly,
"By the laws of the Yeon clan, I have executed your kin. But there will be no further executions or punishments. The bodies will be returned to you. Hold proper funerals, and mourn as you will."
The families knelt, thanking me profusely. Turning away, I muttered weakly,
"What a brutal world."
Even in my modern life as Yeon Taehwan, discrimination was everyday. But Goguryeo, with its rigid class system and death penalties, was horrifying. I yanked the sword from the ground and tossed it to Geom Mojam, who waited.
"Clean it well and hang it behind my bed."
"Y-Yes, young master."
Stepping before my father, Yeon Gaesomun, I saw Nam-geon and Nam-san slink away.
"Leave the executed slaves' families here."
"By law, they should be sent to the frontier."
"From now on, we'll follow my laws. Please abide by them, Father."
"I am the head of the Yeon clan and Leader of the Eastern Division."
"I'll inherit that position. And..."
I turned to the five headless corpses, clenching my fist.
"I'll make sure things run smoothly without ever doing this again."
"Are you asking my permission?"
"You didn't ask permission when you handed me the sword."
"I never ask permission from anyone in this household."
The aides around us trembled at Yeon Gaesomun's icy words. But I didn't flinch. I knew how history actually unfolded.
"Then practice asking mine from now on."
"Why have you become so reckless?"
It was more curiosity than anger. After a pause, I replied,
"Because now I know what I must do. Thank you for that insight, Father."
Stepping back, I clasped my hands in respect. Yeon Gaesomun burst into laughter.
"That guts of yours—I like it. The families of the dead slaves stay."
"Allow them proper funerals, too."
"Granted. Satisfied now?"
"Thank you, Father."
Bowing again, I watched him leave with a pleased expression. I noticed Nam-geon and Nam-san's eyes flash red from a short distance away. That's when I realized the ability I'd gained upon fainting last time.
"Red eyes mean they hate me."
In this savage era, it was the perfect tool for survival. I couldn't help but chuckle. Chilled by my grin, my younger brothers bowed and departed. If I showed weakness, they'd pounce without hesitation. One more reason to change history. To survive without dying, I had to eliminate my enemies. Being the Yeon clan's eldest wasn't enough. I needed to become a hero who saved Goguryeo. Only then could I protect myself from those red-eyed foes. Lost in thought, the area cleared quickly.
The slaves' bodies had been taken by their families. Only Geom Mojam remained, holding the sword I'd given him.
"Let's go. It's been a rough day."
"Back to your quarters, young master."
"Yeah."
I brooded the whole way back.
"For some unknown reason, I fell a hundred years into the past. No idea how to return, so all I can do is adapt here."
Fortunately, my position was as the eldest son of Yeon Gaesomun, one of Goguryeo's powerhouses. The problem was Yeon Namsaeng's bad reputation. A friend's jab came to mind: "You're just siding with him because of the Yeon name." In about thirty years, I'd reach the ending I'd read in history books. Things could worsen much sooner.
"To adapt and survive, do I have no choice but to change history?"
Knowing the future made it worth trying. But Goguryeo's history was so obscure.
"Should I summon Seon Do-hae again?"
I shook my head. His eyes had flashed red briefly last time—not a good sign. Pondering whom to call next, one name hit me.
"That's it!"
At the same time, I spotted someone waiting before my quarters. I didn't recognize him at first, then it clicked.
"You're the acrobat who hurled that cart!"
Thanks to him, I'd escaped the assassination. The acrobat knelt as I approached.
"Greetings to the eldest son of the Eastern Division Leader. This humble one's name is Adokbang."
His name and speech felt off. Telling him to rise, I studied his face and understood why.
"You're from the Western Regions."
"My father was Sogdian."
Hooked nose, thick brows, large eyes—the classic Middle Eastern features I'd seen often in Korea. Geom Mojam approached after speaking with the guard who'd brought Adokbang.
"No suspicious background. He's traveled with a circus since childhood."
"Built like a powerhouse, huh?"
Geom Mojam nodded awkwardly at my question.
"Sogdians are naturally big and strong."
That sparked an idea.
"You teach him martial arts."
"Me, young master?"
"Yeah. He'll be my bodyguard."
"Not just anyone can guard you."
"You already protected me once. Stepped in when you didn't have to."
"W-Well, that's true, but..."
As Geom Mojam hesitated, I pressed,
"That sword you're holding is heavy. It suits a strong guy like Adokbang."
"A-Alright."
Reluctantly, Geom Mojam handed the large sword to Adokbang.
"And find someone for me."
"Who?"
"A man named Lee Mun-jin. Know him?"
Geom Mojam's face hardened at my question.
"Did you think I wouldn't know the National Academy Scholar who wrote the New Annals?"
"Just testing. Can you bring him? Or do I go?"
"Only the Great King commands the National Academy Scholar."
"Then I'll go. Set it up as soon as possible."
"Going out again is dangerous, isn't it?"
"I'll dress properly and take a carriage this time. Guard me well."
"Understood. I have a request, too."