Warlord Han Yegum

“This bastard’s the real deal!”

Madal’s voice rang out amidst the chaos. Despite swinging his axe wildly at the enemy, he seemed to stay close to Makjeong’s side.

“We’re winning! Push them back!”

Nearby, a familiar voice of one of the U Kingdom’s commanders bellowed encouragement.

Following the commander’s cry, the officers’ shouts echoed throughout the battlefield. Whether the soldiers were inspired by these voices or genuinely turning the tide of battle, the U Kingdom forces roared with newfound vigor and launched ferocious attacks against the enemy.

—Thud! Swoosh!

Chobak and Mukjin gathered arrows from corpses and began firing again. Their thick, heavy arrowheads pierced the Shang soldiers’ armor at close range, sending them sprawling.

Elsewhere, a group of soldiers with shields formed a tight formation, pushing forward.

“Hiyah!”

With a unified shout, they shoved the enemy back using their shields. The moment the Shang soldiers stumbled, disoriented, other soldiers jabbed at them with spears. Overhead, arrows, axes, and even fist-sized stones flew through the air.

As the U Kingdom troops began moving with more coordination, Nam Pae assessed the situation and shouted.

“Squad, regroup! Everyone, gather here!”

Hearing his call, the scattered squad members rushed to his side. Madal, Makjeong, Gaesang, Yeopchi, Chobak, and Mukjin—all of them covered in a mix of blood and dirt—assembled quickly.

“Let’s push from here!”

“Yes!”

Nam Pae brought his squad together, tightening their formation. They joined forces with other nearby troops, advancing in an organized assault that pressed the enemy hard. Fighting alongside his squad, Makjeong felt a surge of courage.

These were the comrades who had saved his life more than once. Watching their skilled movements—Madal’s axe cleaving through enemies, Chobak’s precise arrows, and Yeopchi’s unrelenting strikes—filled Makjeong with admiration. Determined to match their strength, he fought with renewed ferocity.

The squad advanced steadily toward the east, the very section of the palisade that had been breached. Their progress meant only one thing—the Shang forces were being pushed back.

“Look! The enemy is breaking! Let’s drive those bastards out of the palisade!”

“Yaaaah!”

Fueled by this momentum, the U Kingdom soldiers roared in unison, trampling over the bodies of the fallen as they surged forward.

Finally, Makjeong could see the breached palisade ahead. The faster their steps, the more the enemy retreated.

Suddenly, the Shang soldiers began to flee in earnest.

Their retreat was no orderly withdrawal—it was pure chaos. Without a commanding presence to organize them, they abandoned their wounded, scrambling to save themselves as they scattered in every direction.

The U Kingdom troops gave chase, their war cries relentless. Spears were thrown, and arrows loosed at the fleeing enemies. Though spears were precious, soldiers didn’t hesitate to throw them—there were plenty of weapons scattered on the ground from the dead.

The once-breached palisade now swarmed with victorious U Kingdom soldiers.

“We won—!!”

“Yaaaaah—!!”

With triumphant shouts, the soldiers raised their spears and swords in the air.

Finally, the battle was over.

Even though the palisade had been breached, they had banded together to repel the enemy and reclaim the position. Despite heavy losses, the dramatic reversal of fortune sent the soldiers’ morale soaring.

The cries of the victorious echoed endlessly. Makjeong joined them, tears welling up as he screamed until his throat burned.

What did it matter if his voice gave out? He was alive.

“I survived! I survived—!!”

Makjeong’s chest pounded, this time not from fear but from exhilaration.

For the first time, he had taken lives in battle. He had used the sword techniques he’d trained in for years, and though he had faced near-death moments and survived thanks to his comrades, he had made it through.

He was alive.

A single tear slipped down Makjeong’s blood-streaked face.

****

By the time the battle ended, the sun was setting.

Surviving soldiers were ordered to prioritize recovering the wounded.

The heaviest casualties were at the breached palisade, where the fiercest fighting had occurred. The area was filled with the agonizing cries and groans of both enemy and ally wounded. Makjeong, alongside his squad, began flipping over bodies in search of survivors.

He and Chobak carried the first two injured soldiers they found on makeshift stretchers. Tragically, neither survived long enough to reach the medical tent, having already lost too much blood.

Those who could still speak fared better, but the silent ones—those whose gazes were fixed emptily on nothing—faded quickly, their eyes losing focus even after reaching the tent.

Makjeong realized then that even after a battle ended, another struggle continued.

“One, two... three… lift!”

Makjeong and Chobak hoisted a third injured soldier onto a stretcher. The man clutched his abdomen, blood pooling beneath him, soaking his armor.

His pale face and incoherent muttering suggested he wouldn’t last long, but Makjeong and Chobak carried him toward the medical tent anyway.

Dozens of corpses already lay outside the tent—soldiers who had been brought in too late or had succumbed to their injuries despite efforts to save them.

A blood-drenched medic glanced at Makjeong’s stretcher and directed him to place the soldier down outside. The medic then rushed off to tend to another patient, leaving little hope for the man Makjeong had carried.@@novelbin@@

The medical tent was its own battlefield, filled with desperate cries and moans. Even Makjeong, who had just survived a harrowing battle, felt a chill run through him at the sound.

As Makjeong and Chobak returned with an empty stretcher, Makjeong wondered how effective the medical care could be in such chaos.

The sheer number of wounded overwhelmed the limited medics and supplies. It was painfully obvious that there weren’t enough hands, tools, or medicines to tend to everyone.

‘This is brutal… If I ever get injured, I’d rather die outright than end up here.’

Makjeong made a grim resolution every time he passed the tent.

Once the battlefield was cleared, the soldiers returned to their squads.

Makjeong’s squad found their previous position littered with the bodies of comrades who had fallen earlier in the day.

Nam Pae and Madal had rushed back immediately after the battle, but the injured had already succumbed to blood loss.

“Poor bastards… Maybe it’s better this way—they don’t have to suffer anymore,” Nam Pae muttered, his face twisted with conflicting emotions.

The squad had lost over half its members, yet considering the overwhelming enemy numbers, it was almost miraculous that any had survived.

“Let’s move them… I know you’re all exhausted, but let’s give them this last bit of effort, okay?”

“Yes, sir…”

Despite their exhaustion, no one complained as they carried the bodies of their fallen comrades.

These were the same people they had eaten with, laughed with, and fought alongside—not long ago.

Makjeong and Chobak hoisted one body onto a stretcher. The trail of bloodied footprints along the path inside the palisade grew thicker.

After tending to the dead, a late meal was distributed.

Though the food was as bland and meager as ever, the soldiers ate in silence, too tired to complain. The overpowering stench of blood and death made eating almost unbearable, but survival demanded they replenish their strength.

The portions were larger than usual—not because of generosity, but because fewer soldiers remained to eat.

Around the fire sat Nam Pae, Madal, Gaesang, Yeopchi, Chobak, Mukjin, and Makjeong—the only ones from their squad still alive. The empty spots where others should have been were painfully apparent.

As the meal came to an end, Nam Pae spoke.

“Before sunset, we’re to clear the enemy corpses.”

Madal groaned.

“What’s the rush? They’re not going to come back to life if we don’t move them today.”

Nam Pae sighed. “Orders are orders. And while you’re at it, scavenge anything useful—armor, weapons, supplies. You know the drill. We can’t count on proper resupply here.”

Makjeong nodded quietly.

As the others continued their grim tasks, Makjeong clenched his fist tightly, trying to remind himself he was still alive.