Warlord Han Yegum

Chapter 11

Dawn.

Snore...

Makjeong startled awake, jolted by the sound of his own snoring. The faint light seeping through signaled the break of dawn.

Unlike him, the other squad members were already awake. Despite the grueling battle yesterday, which should have left everyone deeply asleep until late, they were up.

Pushing aside his straw mat, Makjeong sat up.

Rather than wishing for more sleep, he felt a deep gratitude simply for being alive.

As he stood, his back, shoulders, and arms protested with a stiffness that hadn’t been there before he slept. The aftermath of yesterday’s life-or-death struggle had set in, and his entire body ached.

Noticing Makjeong stirring, Gaesang, who was keeping watch beyond the palisade, called out.

“Awake?”

“Yes, I’m up... but it feels like I’m dying.”

Makjeong stretched his sore back and scanned the squad.

Squad Leader Nam Pae, along with Yeopchi, Chobak, and Mukjin, were seated, sipping from something.

“What about Madal?”

“He’s taking a shit.”

“Oh...”

Makjeong stretched his aching body as he approached the front of the palisade. Beyond the mountains where the Shang forces were stationed, the sun was beginning to rise.

“Makjeong, have some of this,” Nam Pae called, holding out a steaming wooden cup.

“What is this...?”

“Madal fetched a barrel of hot water before he went to relieve himself.”

“Oh...”

Taking the cup, Makjeong sipped the hot water. The warmth spread through his body, bringing an unexpected comfort.

“Woke up feeling like you’ve been run over, huh?” Gaesang asked, to which Makjeong nodded.

“Yes. I didn’t think I got hit much yesterday, but why does my whole body hurt? Did you guys step on me in your sleep?”

“Heh. Why wouldn’t we? We’re just as sore all over.”

The rising steam carried with it the overwhelming stench of blood, which soon filled Makjeong’s nostrils. The camp reeked from the corpses they had moved but not yet buried.

“Ugh... the smell is awful,” Makjeong muttered.

“Right? They say we’ll bury them after breakfast, but with this stink, who can eat? Why don’t they just bury them first and eat later?” Gaesang grimaced, clearly repulsed by the odor.

Behind him, Yeopchi chimed in.

“There are too many bodies to bury before breakfast. Even if we start now, it’d take all day. And honestly, I’d rather not touch corpses before eating.”

“Damn it all...” Gaesang muttered, and silence settled over the squad once again.

Although they had slept well, buoyed by the previous night’s victory, the new day brought the unease of uncertainty. Who knew what might happen today?

Just then, Madal returned, his steps lighter than before.

“Ahh, I feel alive again. I must’ve shit out a whole bucket’s worth! Oh, Makjeong’s up?”

“Yes.”

“So, no injuries or anything?”

Plop.

Madal plopped down on the ground and looked at Makjeong with concern.

“No injuries, just a bit sore all over.”

“Sore, huh? That’s a relief. You know, when I went down earlier, I passed by where they’ve put the wounded. Man... a ton of people must’ve died overnight. The place was packed with corpses. Tsk tsk.”

“......”@@@@

“Haha. Makjeong, I bet a lot of those guys were dragged here against their will, just like you,” Yeopchi said, clapping Makjeong on the shoulder.

The low number of reinforcements was disheartening, but it was better than none.

“Yeopchi, does this mean we don’t have to bury the corpses? When we first arrived, we had to do all that, right?” Makjeong asked, his tone tinged with hope.

Nam Pae shook his head.

“No chance. Look at them—there’s barely any of them, and there are still so many bodies. Besides, if we don’t help, the stench will only get worse. By tomorrow, it’ll be unbearable. You want your nose to rot?”

Sure enough, the order soon came for all soldiers to descend and begin burying the dead.

With a resigned expression, Makjeong turned to Nam Pae.

“Squad Leader, shall we go...?”

“Damn it. Alright, boys, let’s get moving,” Nam Pae grumbled.

*****

That evening.

Three new members were added to Nam Pae’s squad.

Two were reinforcements who had arrived earlier, and the third was a soldier who had survived the total annihilation of his previous squad.

The reinforcements included Obyeok, an older man who appeared to be even older than Nam Pae, and Ayong, a boy younger than Makjeong. The survivor of the wiped-out squad, Deokheung, was Makjeong’s age.

After introducing themselves, they explained that they and the other reinforcements had come from Samok Fortress near Myeon Fortress.

When asked if they had heard anything about the war on their way here, Obyeok relayed what little he knew:

U Kingdom and Shang Kingdom were locked in a series of back-and-forth battles. In other areas, massive clashes had resulted in thousands of deaths, though he didn’t know the names of the locations or the outcomes.

Nam Pae scowled at this vague response.

“Hmph. ‘Don’t know the outcome,’ my ass. If they can’t say anything, it’s because we lost. Damn it.”

On the battlefield, news of defeats was rarely disclosed. Soldiers caught spreading rumors about losses faced harsh punishment, sometimes even execution.

The higher-ups ensured that only news of victories was shared, knowing how detrimental defeatist talk could be to morale.

“Everyone, you know the drill. Don’t let the officers hear you talking about the situation elsewhere. That goes for you too, Obyeok.”

“Yes, understood,” the older man replied.

With the war news shared, the conversation shifted to personal matters.

Obyeok revealed he had been conscripted for failing to pay taxes, while Deokheung and Ayong were slaves.

The kingdom had offered slaves conscription in exchange for the promise of emancipation after the war. For slaves, this was a lifelong dream, yet it was hardly an appealing prospect to risk death for such a reward.

Only those who found their lives as slaves unbearable or believed they were doomed regardless volunteered for service. Meanwhile, their masters resented the kingdom for forcibly seizing their property.

Both Obyeok and Ayong were quiet and meek, clearly unsuited to the brutality of war. Though none of the squad openly commented, it was hard to imagine either of them surviving a battle like the one they had fought the previous day.

“At least Deokheung has seen combat. He’ll adapt quickly. Makjeong, take care of Ayong, alright? He’s the youngest now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Now numbering ten, Nam Pae’s squad watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, each lost in their thoughts about the uncertainties of tomorrow.

What would the next day bring?

Pushed along by the relentless tide of fate, they could only follow the current, powerless to control its course.

Makjeong, too, remained indecisive about his path.

At first, he had resolved to flee to the Shang Kingdom, but doubt had crept in, shaking his determination.

His mind told him to escape, yet his heart held him back.

It was a stifling feeling.

And yet.

Like the stars twinkling in the dark, boundless sky, Makjeong wanted to believe that as long as his will burned on, he would one day find his direction and purpose.

No. He decided he would believe it.