131.Where my lady stands, there lies our battlefield.
Twenty horses entered in a straight line, moving at an even, unhurried pace.
At their head rode a middle-aged warrior, the shoulders of his black armor neatly adjusted, while the nineteen behind him maintained their spacing without the slightest disorder.
There was no excessive ornament.
Over dark indigo battle robes they wore light lamellar plates; leather guards wrapped their forearms; at their waists hung long, narrow swords.
The scabbards were worn black from long use, shaped for utility rather than display.
Their eyes faced forward.
Not one glanced to either side.
As they passed the main gate of the estate, the leading warrior raised his hand to signal a halt.
The sound of hooves ceased at once.
They stopped without a ripple.
Lee So-gun stepped out to the edge of the training ground.
The leading warrior dismounted first.
He straightened his back, took two steps forward, and bent one knee.
One fist closed, the other hand wrapped around it—a formal military salute.
"My lady, we pay our respects."
His voice was low, but steady.
Though more than a decade had passed, to them she was still the young lady.
The nineteen behind him dismounted as one.
The brief clink of armor rang out, then faded.
All twenty bowed in unison.
Lee So-gun regarded them in silence.
Her expression was composed, yet something flickered faintly in her eyes.
"You have come."
It was a short sentence.
The leading warrior lowered his head deeply.
"We were sent from your natal house. We heard that this place stands in peril. We will fight until our lives are spent."
There was no excess in his words, no hesitation.
They knew this might be a place of death, yet showed no trace of doubt.
The twenty warriors stepped back into formation.
Their gazes moved naturally along the walls and across the yard, reading the situation.
Lee So-gun gave a small nod.
"This place may become a battlefield. Are you prepared for that?"
The leading warrior bowed once more.
"Where my lady stands, there lies our battlefield."
It was a short and unyielding answer.
---*
So-un moved across the county and the wide fields beyond.
At dawn he listened for the sound of the city gates opening; at dusk he slipped into the town and studied the movements within the magistrate's courtyard.
Among those on horseback, he marked first the one who stood at the center, the one who gave orders, the one toward whom the eyes of others turned.
He waited in trees, on ridges, sometimes beneath the railing of a bridge.
He made no elaborate preparations.
A single bow was enough.
He drew a quiet breath and pulled the string.
The bowstring sang.
Whsssh—
Most often he pierced the throat cleanly.
The body snapped on the saddle.
Death came without pain, without even a scream.
The horse reared in fright; nearby soldiers lifted their heads all at once.
"General!"
They shouted, but it was already too late.
With command severed, the formation stalled.
The signal to advance dissolved; soldiers looked at one another in confusion.
The second arrow flew toward the deputy at the general's side.
If another officer remained, he marked him too.
This time he aimed beneath the collarbone.
The man twisted in agony and fell from his horse.
A cry for help tore through the ranks.
So-un tilted his head slightly, listening.
It was enough.
Shields rose; soldiers scanned the surroundings, but none could find the source of the arrow.
When a commander fell, the formation froze.
Without orders, feet would not move.
By then So-un had already shifted position.
He never shot twice from the same place.
He slid down from trees, cut across low grass.
After several days he no longer aimed for the throat.
He chose the lower back, the thigh, the shoulder joint.
Places that bled, but did not kill.
When the arrow struck, the scream lingered.
The cries of their own men chilled the others.
Bodies writhed atop horses; the marching line wavered.
"Ambush!"
"Take cover!"
But the enemy was nowhere to be seen.
Pain bred fear.
When one man fell, ten stopped.
When ten stopped, five hundred stood still.
That day too, the advance was abandoned.
So-un lowered his bow and drew a slow breath.
He was holding them back, yet it was not a method that could endure.
Removing the enemy's leaders one by one was precise and simple.
But war was, in the end, a contest of numbers and time.
More troops continued to gather; different kinds of soldiers mixed among them.
How long he could keep cutting them down in this manner, he did not know.