603.
Chapter of Preparation
Winter winds had begun to seep into Jinju Fortress.
On the surface, the city appeared calm, but beneath it, heat was steadily building.
Across half of the southern sea, the shadow of the Japanese raiders had receded; on the other half, the stains of blood still remained.
That presence rode the sea wind and crept into the fortress itself.
Park Seong-jin did not endure the scent for long.
"We strike Tsushima now."
With that single sentence, Jinju Prefecture changed within a month.
Voices grew fewer, hands moved faster.
Hesitation vanished, replaced entirely by preparation.
Yun Dam rebuilt the formations.
Private troops and regulars were separated; naval forces and landing units were reorganized into distinct groups.
The command structure was redrawn, the flow of orders reduced to a single line.
Gun carriages were erected, iron glowed red beneath hammers.
Piles of gunpowder were spread in courtyards to dry, and firing ports were cut into the hulls of refitted Japanese ships.
One dawn, fifteen warships stood in a row at the Susahyeon harbor.
Their newly painted hulls flashed beneath the winter sun on the Nam River.
Park Seong-jin stood before the sight, speechless for a long while.
Jin Chong stepped up beside him and muttered softly.
"General… we're really going."
Park Seong-jin replied briefly.
"We go. And we return.
And we make sure the raiders never set foot in this sea again."
Jang Sa-ui let out a rough laugh.
"At last, General—this sea belongs to Goryeo."
Flags snapped sharply in the wind.
The riverside harbor gleamed cold under the winter light.
The Tsushima expeditionary force had finally taken shape.
The war had already begun.
Only one task remained: to cross the sea and tear out the roots of the raiders.
And at the center of it all,
Park Seong-jin quietly closed his hand around his sword hilt.
The days in Jinju before the Tsushima campaign were as fierce as battle itself.
From sunrise to sunset, Park Seong-jin drilled the troops and traveled the countryside, gathering resolve from the people.
"Reset your spacing."
"Brace for artillery recoil first."
"If your center holds on deck, the sea will hold too."
Large-framed private soldiers staggered as they lost balance aboard the ships.
Shipwrights and technicians shouted at their sides.
Artillery masters from Daehan demonstrated again how to release tension from the shoulders.
Park Seong-jin watched for a long time.
Orders set direction; bodily mastery completed war.
Training continued all morning.
When the sun climbed high, repair crews handling oars and sails were barked at loudly enough to be heard from afar.
"So they say the Goryeo army descends from Jang Bogo—today they're being reborn,"
Jang Sa-ui muttered from the side.
Park Seong-jin smiled briefly.
There was no rest when training ended.
He mounted his horse and set out at once.
Seungju, Paeju, Sacheon, Hadong—each evening, the estates and fortresses of local magnates received his visit.
At some homes, modest drinking tables were laid out.
At others, dozens of private soldiers stood in deliberate formation, measuring him with their eyes.
Park Seong-jin spoke plainly.
"The troops will be returned intact when the expedition ends."
"Pillage ends with me."
"The name remains with you; the responsibility of battle rests on my shoulders."
To his surprise, many bowed first.
"The General's martial power already fills the southern sea."
"Entrust them to you, and this land grows safer."
Each time, a chill crept into Park Seong-jin's heart.
Power gathered by fear flares briefly; power gathered by trust endures.
But time was short.
Almost every day, he visited local clans.
When he returned to Jinju Fortress, Yun Dam laid out the day's tallies of men, grain, and arms.
"Three thousand here."
"From these, we select five hundred elite for the expeditionary force.
The rest will handle rear support and transport."
"Good.
Where are they from?"
"Hadong, Seungju, Sacheon, and the foothills of Mount Jiri.
Their will to fight is clear."
Park Seong-jin slowly traced a finger across the roster.
Once the formations were set, the transport problem revealed itself immediately.
The warships were ready, but transport vessels were lacking.
Even unarmed civilian ships would have to be drawn into the theater.
When the day's duties ended, Park Seong-jin returned beneath the torches of the camp.
The elite warriors he had chosen gathered around him and silently drew their swords.
"General, we ask you again today."
Park Seong-jin took up his blade.
After a day spent riding, persuading, calculating, and issuing orders, his body was drained.
But the moment his hand closed around the sword, his eyes came alive again.
He taught them.
"The blade does not move before the heart."
"When the mind is straight, the sword tip is straight."
Clack—clack.
Night after night, the sound of steel striking steel echoed like the sound of fate being adjusted.
Yun Dam spoke carefully.
"General, you need not grind yourself down this far.
The Tsushima campaign will roll forward even if you step aside now."
After a long silence, Park Seong-jin answered.
"This war began with me."
"I moved because I saw the people die."
"Then I will also be the one to finish it."
Yun Dam stopped himself from speaking further.
In Park Seong-jin's eyes lay something heavier than fatigue.
In the red dust of evening,
Park Seong-jin walking back into camp looked like a man carrying an entire country on his back.
Only then did elite troops, private soldiers, and technicians alike clearly understand what they were fighting for.
That night, someone said softly,
"One general… raising an entire army."
Winter deepened.
The wind cut like a thin blade, frost settling white on the gate pillars.
On such a day, his brother-in-law Ji-ho arrived from afar.
He said he had come to pay respects and bring news, having recently completed his wedding.
Ji-ho spoke at length of ceremonies, congratulations, and exchanged words.
For Park Seong-jin, knowing the marriage had gone smoothly was enough.
Before even settling in, Ji-ho stepped forward.
"Mother worries greatly about you, Brother-in-law.
She couldn't come herself, so she sent me in her place."
Park Seong-jin gestured for him to sit.
"I see.
So—how are you doing?
Have you settled into the household?"
"Yes.
Everyone treats me well."
Courtesy clung to Ji-ho's every word.
An earnest, slightly awkward sincerity shone in his eyes.
Park Seong-jin asked casually,
"Thinking of opening a workshop?"
Ji-ho answered at once.
"I'm learning the household work first."
Park Seong-jin's eyes narrowed just slightly, calculation flickering across them.
But he did not press further.
The fact that his sister had chosen this man was the measure.
What he wanted was not a brilliant son-in-law, but someone who would firmly support his sister's heart.
Ji-ho straightened.
"Please don't worry about the main house.
Chief Steward Cheo-eun and I are taking good care of things."
"I see.
Thank you."
Park Seong-jin's brief reply carried unmistakable sincerity—
and, at the same time, a clearly kept distance.
He asked,
"What did my sister say?"
Ji-ho sighed lightly.
"She worries about you a great deal.
Some nights she can't sleep at all."
Only then did Park Seong-jin lift the corner of his mouth.
Not quite a smile—just a thin warmth seeping into a weary face.
"She would."
From a corner of the tent, Park Seong-jin brought out clothes and some cold provisions and set them before Ji-ho.
"The road back is long for now.
There's still work to be done."
Ji-ho bowed his head.
"Everyone worries you might be hurt."
Park Seong-jin made an expression that was neither smile nor sigh.
"War isn't resolved by caution alone."
The words were calm.
Truth always emerged that way—quietly.
Park Seong-jin entrusted Ji-ho with his mother's and family's well-being, the weight of leaving untouchable matters in another's hands pressing hard.
He purchased local specialties of the southern sea and loaded them onto the return convoy.
Dried monkfish, stiff and hard.
Abalone.
Tea harvested in spring and dried from Mount Jiri.
Several bolts of cotton cloth from Sacheon.
He lacked the money to buy much,
but when people heard the goods were being sent to his parents' household,
the locals added generously at low cost.
So much was loaded that there were not enough horses.
Saying he would soon depart by ship,
Park Seong-jin reassigned the horses and settled their use.