Warlord Han Yegum

The third morning at Blaze Ridge dawned.

The day began much like the previous ones. Makjeong awoke to the sound of soldiers stomping their feet against the cold, descended the mountain to eat breakfast, and joined the others for drills.

The difference today was that Makjeong felt stronger. His body, still growing and naturally resilient, had recovered quickly. The physical improvement came not only from his youth but also from his determination to steel his mind.

After training, Makjeong grabbed an empty wooden water barrel and headed down the mountain. Each squad had several large barrels to provide drinking water for the group—essential supplies like straw mats and blankets that had to be carried everywhere.

Since Makjeong was the youngest in the squad, the chore of fetching water fell to him.

There was no natural spring or stream at Blaze Ridge. The camp had been built at the most defensible location, not the most convenient one. Water had to be hauled daily from supply stations below the mountain.

“Fill it up here. And don’t you dare spill a drop—do you have any idea how hard it is hauling this stuff up here?”

One of the supply soldiers snapped at him. Makjeong smirked inwardly. Compared to his squadmates like Nam Pae or Madal, this guy looked downright gentle.

— Splash. Swoosh.

As he transferred water from the larger container, Makjeong casually glanced around.

The supply station was located at the rear of the camp, which made it the perfect place to flee if he ever decided to run.@@novelbin@@

His destination was east—Shang territory—but sprinting past the frontlines would be suicidal.

‘They even have rear guards posted here. Those men must watch the back all night.’

Scattered sentries patrolled the area, keeping watch even during the day to prevent ambushes.

‘No chance of slipping through here… Damn.’

Realizing escape through the rear was just as risky, Makjeong set the thought aside and hoisted the water barrels.

“Ugh! These are heavy.”

Ignoring the supply soldier’s threats about spilling water, Makjeong trudged back up the slope to his squad.

“Thought my arms were gonna fall off.”

“Good work.”

Yeopchi patted him on the shoulder with a grin.

“I’ll probably die carrying water before I even see battle.”

“Haha. I’ll help next time.”

“No need. So, what’s happening this afternoon? More fortification work?”

“Not sure yet. We’ve got some free time, so—”

Before Yeopchi could finish, Nam Pae’s sharp voice cut through the chatter.

“Ah… Damn it. Those bastards are coming.”

“What?”

Everyone scrambled to their feet and peered over the palisade.

“Shit…!”

“Damn it all.”

The worst-case scenario was unfolding before their eyes. From the eastern mountain ridge, waves of Shang soldiers poured out. They hadn’t yet formed ranks, gathering in a chaotic mass at the base of the slope, but their numbers alone were overwhelming.

— Clang! Clang! Clang!

The alarm bell rang frantically, but most U Kingdom soldiers had already spotted the enemy and were staring in shock.

Makjeong widened his eyes, scanning the enemy lines, and turned to Gaesang.

“Hyung, how many do you think that is?”

Gaesang squinted, estimating their numbers before grimacing.

“Over a thousand.”

“A thousand?!”

Makjeong’s stomach dropped. The Shang force looked larger, but hearing the number confirmed his fears.

Blaze Ridge had only about three hundred men. After subtracting supply workers, medics, and the injured, barely two hundred and fifty were available to fight. Against a force of over a thousand…

Makjeong turned to Madal, who was further away.

“What about last time? How many came then?”

Madal scowled, clearly displeased.

“About eight hundred. And back then, we had over three hundred fresh men ready to fight. Damn it…”

Their numbers had dwindled while the enemy’s had grown. This battle would be harder than the last—perhaps even catastrophic.

“Shit… What’s with these bastards? Don’t they ever get tired?!”

“This is insane… Nam Pae, do you think we can hold them off?”

Chobak, his face tense, fidgeted with his bow as he asked. But Nam Pae didn’t give him the reassurance he wanted.

“Damn it… Chobak, Mukjin—save your arrows. You’re gonna need them. There’s no end to those bastards.”

“Goddamn…”

Despair rippled through the ranks as more soldiers murmured curses and sighs.

From the highest point of Blaze Ridge, the commanding officer’s voice rang out. Though the words were unclear, the sight of supply workers and cooks scrambling to grab weapons and join the defenses made one thing obvious—

Even the officers knew this was bad.

The soldiers took positions behind their assigned sections of the palisade, preparing for battle. Officers, having received orders from the commander at the summit, descended both ridges, shouting instructions.

"Stay calm! Just do what we did last time! Recruits, follow your squad leaders' commands! Remember—defenders always have the advantage! Those bastards are coming here to die today! All we have to do is make it easier for them by killing them the moment they show their faces! Understood?!"

“Yes, sir!”

The officers passed along the palisade, relaying orders and harshly disciplining any soldier who looked scared or overwhelmed. Some were struck with sword hilts, others kicked to snap them out of their fear.

Fear spread quickly. Once panic took hold, the consequences could be catastrophic. That was why commanders and officers had to maintain morale—even if it meant drawing swords against their own men.

"Listen up! Not that I expect it, but if anyone runs, I’ll cut off their head immediately! Hold your ground! Follow orders! If you do exactly as you’re told, we’ll defeat them without dying! Got it?!"

One of the officers shouted as he passed Makjeong’s squad.

“They’ll kill deserters? Ha—should’ve just run away last night…”

Makjeong muttered under his breath. He’d promised himself that if he had to fight, he’d fight hard, but he hadn’t anticipated such a massive gap in numbers.

For a moment, he regretted not escaping when he had the chance.

But then—

‘Tch—whatever!’

Faced with the threat of death, something inside Makjeong hardened.

Gripping his spear tightly, he resolved to give his all in battle and figure out an escape later.

‘I’ll fight first—and if the line collapses, I’ll run. And if anyone—enemy or ally—gets in my way, I’ll cut them down.’

Makjeong had already survived the slaughter of his family. Others had sacrificed their lives to help him escape.

He couldn’t let that sacrifice be in vain.

As the youngest son of General Han Jin, and a swordsman trained relentlessly under Master Jangjo, Makjeong couldn’t accept dying here.

‘Watch me. I’ll survive no matter what!’

Makjeong took his position behind the palisade with Gaesang and Yeopchi. The day he’d dreaded had finally come.

In front of him, the enemy kept pouring out of the eastern ridge.

The Shang soldiers descended to the plains below, forming ranks. To the U Kingdom soldiers watching from above, the time passed painfully fast.

Though they’d known this fight was inevitable, everyone silently hoped the enemy would take longer to prepare.

Makjeong turned to Madal.

“Madal, once their formation’s ready, do they attack right away?”

Madal leaned on his axe, peering down at the enemy.

“Not right away. They always shout and yell first, probably to hype themselves up. Hell, I’d be scared too if I were climbing up here to die. Don’t you think?”

Madal forced a laugh, but no one else joined him. The tension was too thick.

Soon, the Shang soldiers—nearly a thousand of them—had formed ten distinct units of about a hundred each. They spread out, leaving gaps between groups to allow maneuvering.

“Hurry up and die already, you bastards!”

Madal muttered, though it wasn’t clear if he was trying to appear confident or just masking his fear.

Makjeong could only hope Madal’s bravado was genuine.

— WAAAAAAAHHHHH!

The Shang army erupted in a deafening war cry. Their commander’s shouts rang out in the middle of the formation, likely rousing their spirits before the charge.

The sound made the ground seem to tremble, and even the U Kingdom soldiers felt their chests tighten.

Makjeong flinched at the roar.

“Why aren’t we shouting like that?”

He asked nervously.

Chobak and Mukjin smirked.

“We’ll wait until they’re halfway up, legs shaking. That’s when we yell.”

“Yeah, no point in wasting our breath early.”

“Hahaha!”

Their jokes loosened the tension slightly.

“They’re coming!”

Someone shouted.

The first wave of Shang soldiers started climbing the slope. Some carried large shields, while others held ladders. The palisade wasn’t particularly high—barely the height of a man—but the steep incline made scaling it without ladders difficult.

“Break the ladders as soon as they set them!”

Gaesang licked his lips and gripped his spear.

Nam Pae barked warnings.

“Don’t focus just on the ladders! Those bastards also use hooks to pull down the palisade! That’s even worse—if they rip this wall out, we’re done for. They did it to another squad last time, and everyone there died.”

“So whether it’s ladders, hooks, hands, or heads—kill them all!”

Makjeong’s stomach sank. He regretted not taking the fortification work more seriously.

He’d hurried through the repairs yesterday, barely hammering the nails into place. What if the hooks tore the wall apart because of his half-hearted effort?

It was too late to fix it now.

The enemy vanguard was closing in.