- Night Battle _2
They made a wide detour around the massive ridge and took position where Soun had indicated.
Soun assigned each position himself.
When someone makes the plan, the others listen.
They spread into a wide crescent formation centered on a narrow, bottle-necked terrain where anyone emerging from the enemy hideout would be funneled to their deaths.
The intention was simple—arrows would strike from every direction.
“Shouldn’t we take that bastard first? The one on watch. Looks like he’s dozing up there.”
“That’s a rock, isn’t it?”
“You go check. You said you’d lure them.”
“Why me again? It’s dark as hell.”
Bak Cheon-gyun visibly shuddered.
Soun adjusted their spacing carefully so the five of them could loose arrows simultaneously in a clean arc.
Sosam moved quickly, stringing low trip lines along the path the enemy would likely take.
He darted through shadow after shadow, setting the traps.
“All right. Go.”
Sosam nudged Bak forward.
He had volunteered, but walking alone toward the enemy’s jaws brought immediate regret.
“I shouldn’t have said I’d lure them…”
Bak lit the fire arrow.
When the oil-soaked head flared bright, he shot it high into the sky.
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Then he loosed a whistling arrow.
The rising flame and shrieking whistle cut through the night.
It looked like a signal for attack.
Whether intentional or not, it was convincing.
Then Bak cupped his hands and began shouting crude insults into the darkness.
The obscene curses tore through the still air.
He ran one direction shouting, then another.
No sane man would behave that way.
Bak had a powerful voice.
If Sosam talked too much, Bak shouted too loudly.
Perhaps that was why they got along.
After a while, he returned to position.
“We shoot together. Loose, count to three, nock again, loose again. That’s how it works.”
Soun said it, but the others were already frozen, staring at the place where the enemy would appear.
Then came the sound of horses.
Two.
Three.
Five.
Seven.
They emerged cautiously, uncertain of direction.
Sosam waited.
Is that all?
The enemy hesitated near the entrance instead of advancing.
Bak leapt out again, hurling even filthier curses.
Finally the enemy fixed on the sound and charged straight toward him.
An arrow flew.
Thud.
Bak staggered.
“Damn savages can shoot.”
The arrow was buried cleanly in his shield.
He had raised it without anyone noticing.
“Hurry up! I’m about to die here!”
Sosam fired the whistling arrow.
Five men loosed together.
Soun inhaled slowly and aimed not for a precise point, but for the broad center of mass—horse or rider, it did not matter.
In the crescent kill zone, the leading rider fell.
A stray arrow struck the second and his horse.
More arrows followed.
Within moments, most of those who had rushed out lay dead or dying.
Loose horses bolted wildly.
The survivors dismounted and used the horses as shields.
They still did not know how many attackers there were.
“Spears forward.”
Bak groaned but moved.
This was always his role.
Two advanced with long weapons.
Sosam followed.
Soun remained in place, half-drawn bow ready.
The night quieted again.
They advanced for confirmation kills.
Bak drove his spear through a wounded man’s chest.
Sosam severed another’s throat.
One man, shot through the back, staggered forward swinging a massive blade.
He never reached spear range.
Pinned between two weapons, he fell under Sosam’s sword.
All who had emerged were dead.
But the battle was not over.
“What now?”
Bak looked to Sosam, then to Soun.
“Scholar. What now?”
“There may be more behind them. Our men may be captured. If we rush in, we meet the same fate. Fighting blind in darkness means losing one for one. We don’t enter. We set another ambush. First, retrieve the arrows.”
It was a strategy born of caution, not bravado.
They recovered what arrows they could.
Not even half.
A perfect victory—so far.
Lure.
Encircle.
Overwhelm with volleys.
No casualties.
Sosam finally admitted to himself that keeping the scholar close had been the right decision.