Around the hour of si—between late morning and early afternoon—the sunlight began to tilt westward.

  Botongwon’s courtyard sank into gold.

  Light shimmered in the dust.Shattered rays rolled across armor like waves.

  The drums sounded.

  Dong—dong—dong—.

  Three beats.

  After that, silence fell—deep and heavy, like the stillness beneath the sea.

  The ranks filled the yard.Soldiers stood aligned.Horses snorted and stamped.

  Iron and leather.Sweat and blood.Horseflesh and dust.

  The air itself seemed to press down.

  Then the gates opened.

  The Great General appeared.

  He wore golden armor.At his waist hung a buweol 斧鉞—the axe of command.Its moon-curved blade caught the sunlight and flashed.

  Seated on horseback, he advanced slowly.Each step of the hooves stirred a quiet wind across the yard.

  When the Great General raised a hand, an adjutant’s voice rang out.

  “Begin the review!”

  The drums thundered again.

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  Dong—dong—dong—.

  The formation came alive.

  Spears rose.Shields lifted.

  The foot archers bearing the heavy crossbows slung their arrows and bowed at the waist.

  “Sungui Unit, First Detachment—no irregularities!”

  “No irregularities!”

  “Second Detachment—forty-six men under Hwang Hyeon-pil, report complete!”

  “No irregularities!”

  The responses rolled across the courtyard like waves.

  With each echo, the clouds above seemed to deepen in color.

  The Great General rode through the formations.

  His gaze passed from one soldier’s eyes to the next.There was no fear in it.No fervor.

  Only the gaze of stone, performing a task long ordained.

  Within that stillness, countless names flickered—and vanished.

  As the shadow of the Great General’s horse fell over him,Seongjin felt his chest thud once.

  When the general passed, light stretched across the hoofprints left behind—a golden line leading straight to the battlefield.

  “Third Detachment—no irregularities!”

  “Fourth Detachment—no irregularities!”

  Each call was answered by the drums.

  Dong—dong—dong—.

  It was as if sky and earth were keeping the same beat.

  At last, the Great General reined in his horse.

  As the horse lifted its head, the buweol flared blindingly in the sun.

  The general raised his chin.

  “We go to Liaodong.”

  The air hardened.

  “We strike Liaoyang Fortress.”

  The soldiers straightened as one.

  Spear points caught the sunlight and flashed together,filling the yard with light.

  The stillness that followed was almost unreal.

  Liaoyang.

  The moment the name fell, the wind stopped.

  Botongwon’s courtyard was no longer a camp—it had become a sanctuary of war.

  The horses stilled.The monks before the hall pressed their palms together.

  Somewhere, a bell rang once.

  Dong—.

  The sound carried to the far edge of the fields.

  The Great General raised the buweol high.

  “March.”

  After a brief pause, he shouted again,

  “March immediately!”

  “Loyalty!”“Loyalty!”“Loyalty!”“Loyalty!”“Loyalty!”

  The response burst forth like thunder.

  Armor clashed.Iron rang like a storm.

  The Great General nodded slowly.Fatigue lay on his face—and beneath it, a resolve deeper still.

  When he lowered his hand, the drums sounded once more.

  Dong—dong—dong—.

  That day, around the hour of si,a march of the living leaving behind their livesechoed through Botongwon’s courtyard.

  Golden armor burned in the western light,its glow passing over the soldiers’ faces.

  No one spoke.

  But everyone knew.

  This review was not meant for those who would return.