Preparation for Battle(3)
"Still, it's better than training, isn't it?"
When Sowoon looked around and asked, heads nodded here and there.
"Yeah. Better than training."
Agreement came quickly.
Anything was better than drills that broke your legs and crushed your lungs.
With labor, you could grumble, swing a shovel, even slip in a joke or two.
Training drove you until your breath tore apart; labor let you sweat and still laugh.
"No one's ordering you. No one's punishing you if you don't do it. You'll have to do this willingly. At least until someone arrives."
Sowoon's face darkened slightly as he said it.
"Who? General Lee?"
"General Lee probably won't come. If he does, that may mean the worst has already happened. I'm hoping one of the Daeju commanders arrives to take command. Until then, the squad leaders will have to manage."
"Right. That's right."
Everyone nodded.
There were only two squad leaders left.
In battle, those who stood at the front were always the first to fall.
Sowoon pulled out a sheet of paper.
He believed words alone were not enough.
With his small hand pressing the page flat, he began to write.
His handwriting was precise.
His brush moved swiftly—almost as fast as he spoke.
Reinforce the final defensive wooden barricade. Dig additional trenches. Install traps.
Set obstacles across the plain to disperse and slow enemy infantry.
Construct medium crossbows and mount them on the outer walls.
Mass-produce arrows. Secure timber, feathers, and willow-leaf message tokens.
Refit personal equipment: armor, spears, shields, bows.
Inspect and condition all horses. Establish a rotation system for care.
"These are our tasks. The enemy will likely be infantry or local levies, not heavy cavalry. Bows, arrows, and crossbows will be decisive."
He lifted his head.
"The trench in front of the estate is the last defensive line. The enemy must never reach that point. There are elders and women inside. That line must be held with our lives. So we stop them before they get there."
The squad leaders added remarks as he spoke.
"Dig the trench to waist depth at least."
"Deep enough for a horse to fall and struggle."
"Double the wooden barricade."
Sowoon nodded.
"Ambush and reconnaissance must continue. This terrain is open—very different from Haran. The wide view means we can see far, but it also means we can be seen."
Then he added quietly:
"This is the ancestral home of General Jin Mugwang. Please be mindful of your conduct."
Yang Johwi nodded deeply.
A moment later, Yang stepped forward.
He clenched his fist and raised his arm high.
"I may be a fool, but from now on I command. Until a Daeju arrives, I take responsibility. Anyone object?"
"No!"
The energy gathered.
Yang Johwi had recovered much of his strength.
Good food and sleep had brought color back to his face.
The foolish look in his eyes was gone; resolve had replaced it.
He immediately reorganized the structure.
The original thirty men and the additional thirty who had arrived—
a total of sixty, reorganized into six squads.
Temporary squad leaders were appointed.
The moment the formation was set, the mood changed.
Laughter faded.
Bodies moved automatically.
Sleeping quarters were reassigned by squad.
Gear was relocated. Weapons were aligned. Rotations were scheduled.
Work began that very evening.
Two squads took shovels and pickaxes to the plain before the estate.
Under moonlight, they began to dig.
At first, jokes floated in the night.
"Are we farming or fighting?"
"War farming."
But as the trench deepened, the talking stopped.
It was no simple ditch.
The bottom was angled so a fallen horse could not easily climb out.
Sharpened stakes were embedded along the inner slope.
The surface was dusted lightly with soil to disguise its depth.
Two other squads reinforced the wooden barricade.
Thick logs were hauled in and erected.
Crossbeams were lashed tight.
Between them, earth and gravel were packed to absorb impact.
The thud of hammers rang through the night.
The dull strike of iron nails.
The creak of timber locking into place.
Another squad prepared mounting frames for crossbows atop the outer wall.
Heavy wooden braces were constructed and fixed.
They measured angles carefully.
"From here, it reaches halfway across the plain."
"Lower it. Too steep."
Veins bulged in forearms as they lifted the frames into place.
Arrow production took place separately.
Wood shafts were shaved smooth.
Arrowheads sharpened and fitted.
Feathers aligned and bound tight.
Willow-leaf tokens were kept aside for message use.
The horse squad inspected hooves, adjusted saddles, combed tangled manes.
They fed the exhausted animals thick porridge.
Horses were combat strength.
After several days, the land around the estate had changed.
Outwardly, it remained peaceful.
But beneath the plain lay hidden traps.
Behind the barricades were stacked bundles of arrows.
On the walls, crossbows waited silently.
The men of Baekryongdae were covered in dirt and sweat.
Yet dissatisfaction was gone.
In its place stood a familiar tension.
Sowoon watched them.
Only now was the shape of an army returning.
This was not a duel.
It was war.
And in war, half the outcome is decided in preparation.