239.
Arrival at Gaegyeong — The Shadow Guard Seeps into Goryeo's Border
Before dawn, a wind crossed over the mountains of Liaodong.
The sky had not yet opened, and the earth lay sealed like ice.
Across that boundary of darkness, thirty-six shadows slipped through.
They left no footprints along the path they passed.
They covered dozens of li in a single day, yet not a trace remained.
The way they walked upon snow, the way they breathed—
none of it belonged to the living.
It was as if the wind itself had passed.
"This is the border of Goryeo," the Jurchen guide at the front whispered.
The old man spoke in a low voice.
"Be careful. This land is no longer ruled by the Empire's name.
It is a land with its own king.
A rare thing, even among the Empire's domains."
The young assassin sneered.
"A king or not, he is still a subject of the Empire."
His words sliced through the air.
They exchanged glances, then concealed themselves among the rocks.
Someone was already waiting there.
A man with a short beard stepped forward.
He wore Goryeo garb, yet on his feet were Jurchen leather boots.
He brought his hands together and gave a brief signal.
"The wind blows from the west."
"But the moon rises in the east."
The signal matched.
The man bowed.
"I have been waiting."
"How long?"
"Three days and nights," he answered.
"I assumed Her Majesty's anger would not subside easily."
The leader of the assassins looked straight at him.
"Did you see Gi Cheol's blood?"
"I did."
"And who was it?"
"Park Seongjin, they say."
The phrasing was indirect—
it meant he had not witnessed it himself.
Seeing the look in their eyes, the man added,
"He came like the wind, struck, and vanished.
There is no official record, but judging by the circumstances afterward,
it is believed to be his doing."
The moment the words fell, the texture of the air changed.
It felt as though snow were melting, yet the cold deepened instead.
"Where does he stay?"
"North of Gaegyeong, near the Hongsan Valley.
The King's people frequent the area.
They say a man called Yi In-jung also comes and goes at times."
"The King's side, then."
"Yes."
The old man fell silent for a moment.
"The King's shadow…
In a foreign land, that is the most dangerous place to be."
The young assassin asked,
"Then when do we move?"
"In two days."
Their gazes briefly crossed.
It was the day when the dead and the living would exchange garments.
The informant bowed again.
"The court is in turmoil.
Since Gi Cheol's death, the political balance has wavered.
People from Hwaju have entered Gaegyeong.
Among them was a man named Park Seongjin."
The old man spoke slowly.
"The more chaotic it is, the better.
In chaos, the blade finds its opening."
He raised his hand.
A small bronze plate hanging from his fingertips caught what little moonlight there was.
On it, a single character was engraved.
影Shadow.
At that instant, the wind shifted.
The southern current halted, and a chill seeped in from the west.
Someone murmured under his breath.
Their shadows melted into Goryeo's land beneath a moonless sky.
Park Seongjin's Return — Entering Gaegyeong at the King's Call
Gaegyeong was strangely quiet.
Despite talk of political unrest, the streets lay hushed, as though holding their breath.
Not even dust stirred along the main roads, as if the wind itself had stopped.
It was the weight of a low-pressure system settling in with the change of seasons.
Within that stillness, the tower of Sungin Gate (崇仁門) lay soaked in the morning light.
One of the eastern gates of the outer city wall encircling Gaegyeong, the capital of Goryeo.
Park Seongjin halted his horse and gazed at the gate for a long moment.
A few crows flew up from the stone ramparts and vanished.
It was a palace gate where blood had once flowed.
Now only a silence remained, as though it had swallowed that blood whole.
"If it weren't for His Majesty's summons, I'd never come back here."
The words slipped out in a low murmur.
The soldiers who had come with him bowed their heads without a word.
Most were survivors of the Hwaju battles.
Hands that once loosed arrows and swung blades now carried the heavy fatigue of a long march.
As they passed through the gate, the air of Gaegyeong changed.
From the saddle, Park Seongjin lifted his head.
People's gazes scattered oddly.
Merchants in the market alleys whispered in low voices,
and even children's laughter seemed pressed down, cut short.
Something was wrong.
He could not explain it, but his body sensed it first.
It was a familiar city—yet it felt strangely foreign.
"Strange," he muttered.
"Why is it so quiet?"
A carriage wheel rolled over the stone pavement.
Each turn stirred the air ever so slightly.
Then—
From a side alley came the sharp bark of a dog.
Short. Piercing.
A cry laced with unease.
"Someone's following us."
Song I-sul's voice came from behind.
From horseback, he narrowed his eyes.
"Since when?"
"Right after we passed Sungin Gate.
But there are no footsteps.
And the current of energy is different.
Assassins."
Park Seongjin muttered under his breath,
"Those little bastards followed us all the way here."
His hand slid naturally to the hilt of his sword.
Returning had loosened his guard—
his body moved faster than his thoughts.
"Keep it down," Song I-sul said quietly.
"You're under royal summons.
We can't spill blood before entering the palace."
"But—"
"It's fine. This isn't killing intent—it's probing energy.
They're not attacking yet.
Someone is watching, as if testing us."
Yet no matter how he looked, nothing stood out.
Assassins did not announce themselves, but even so,
there was not a single visible anomaly.
Park Seongjin guided his horse at an unhurried pace.
Men standing by the roadside avoided his gaze.
Constables followed him with their eyes from afar.
Everyone inside the capital felt like an enemy.
It was as if all of Gaegyeong were holding its breath.
At the road leading toward Heungcheon Temple, the wind brushed past once.
It was a warm wind—yet the scent was wrong.
Somewhere, the smell of incense drifted through it,
faint but with a bitter aftertaste.
"Incense," he murmured.
"Or poison."
He drew the wind into his nostrils, sensing it carefully.
"Someone is sounding us out."
A faint smile touched his lips.
But his eyes sank into a hard calm—
the instinct of one who had crossed countless battlefields already etched within them.
Just then, a bell rang in the distance.
A daytime bell, tolling from the heart of the capital.
Park Seongjin tightened his grip on the reins.
"So it begins."
His gaze turned toward the palace.
The sky had not yet turned blue.
The darkness before blue slowly settled over Gaegyeong's rooftops.
Invisible eyes lay hidden everywhere.
They were mingled among the people, impossible to single out.
Only the subtle disturbances in the flow of energy betrayed their presence.