605.flags began to rise one by one.
That thirty warships should gather at Busanpo, cutting through the sea mist, was close to a miracle.
The sea stirred once, and beyond a distant bend in the water, flags began to rise one by one.
Then came the sound of oars and the roar of voices keeping time with drums.
As if they had been waiting for this moment, the ships revealed themselves.
They aligned upon the waves like people who had long prepared for this day.
Officers who had boarded the ships approached quietly and spoke in low voices.
"Supreme Commander Yi In-jung implored us earnestly.
When we heard that General Park was setting out, we could not refuse."
There was humility in their words, a careful respect for proper cause.
Their eyes, however, were firm.
They, too, had taken this war as their own.
By the time the sun was slanting low, the entire fleet had assembled in the waters before Geoje-hyeon.
Flags brushed against the wind, spreading red across the sails.
Dozens of warships rocked up and down, breathing like a single colossal living creature.
Park Seong-jin surveyed the fleet from the flagship.
When the inspection began, the crews of each vessel stood rigid as stone, receiving his gaze.
The sound of metal striking metal rang out.
The noise of oars being folded overlapped.
The shouts of soldiers spread, mingling with the waves.
It was a scene beyond a mere review.
It was a ground of resolve.
An oath by those who guarded Goryeo's seas, joining hands under a single will.
They spent a full day there, waiting for the wind.
The soldiers grew quieter.
The captains stared long into the night sea.
The wind was cold, the waves dark.
Above them, tension and anticipation lay sunk, hot and heavy.
The next day, the thirty warships joined Park Seong-jin's expeditionary fleet, forming a tide of more than fifty vessels.
The fleet slipped quietly toward Tsushima.
Catching the northwesterly wind, the sails swelled tight.
The soldiers' hearts drew taut with them.
The energy that enveloped the entire fleet gathered into a single line.
The direction of advance became unmistakably clear.
---*
Commanders of Gyeongsang Province boarded the flagship one by one.
Each step onto the deck rang with the clash of armor.
A sharp wind cut through the feathered crests of their helmets.
"Loyalty!"
"Loyalty!"
It was the salute offered to the young jungnangjang before them.
Fear and respect were both carried in those voices.
From the magistrate of Goseong to the manho of Happo and the governor of Gimhae,
the commanders of Gyeongsang stood arrayed like a wall.
They did not speak casually to a man not yet twenty.
He was the supreme commander, bearer of the tally axe.
There was an even deeper reason as well.
He was a legend.
A master of the Hwagyeong.
The demon of the southern seas.
A butcher without mercy.
Rumors said corpses lay like a road where he had passed.
Stories told of him charging alone into thousands, standard in hand, wiping out entire scout forces.
Accounts of a man who, in matters of the people, showed a goodwill bordering on obsession.
A figure in whom thunderous slaughter and compassion dwelled together.
That name was Park Seong-jin.
The commanders boarded carrying those heavy tales in their hearts.
Yet the man before them had a youthful face and impeccable manners.
His speech was restrained.
Within it lay a straightness that reached to the bone.
Watching him, the wariness of the Gyeongsang commanders slowly eased.
"We have been uneasy for lack of troops.
It feels as though we have gained an army of a thousand.
We thank you."
Such words, spoken by a man said to have bathed the southern seas in blood, carried even greater weight.
Park Seong-jin issued his orders.
"Conduct inspection in present condition.
All vessels, prepare for double-column formation.
Take the flagship as the baseline.
One gak."
The fleet moved at once.
The commanders returned to their ships, raising signals.
Flags waved.
Drums sounded.
Trumpets followed.
Beside Park Seong-jin stood men with beastlike auras.
His direct guard.
Those known as demons.
They leapt lightly between ships.
The spacing and orientation of the vessels were corrected in an instant.
"Spacing, thirty paces!"
"Lower port-side sails, adjust bow angle forty degrees starboard!"
"Oars in unison, align formation!"
As a chill wind rose, sea mist swelled low.
Within that mist, more than fifty ships lined up in perfect order.
Warships spreading in two columns toward the open sea.
The waves of oars moved in a single direction.
The entire sea split like a vast bolt of cloth.
The commanders were struck speechless by the spectacle.
This was no mere naval alignment.
It was the moment a force bearing a nation's survival stretched itself upon the sea.
Park Seong-jin walked to the prow of the flagship.
The wind cut beneath his robes.
The immense shadow of the mast fell long behind him.
He raised his arm in signal.
All oars lifted at once.
On every deck, armed soldiers raised their spears in unison.
The sails billowed wide.
The air over the sea trembled.
This was the review of the Goryeo navy advancing from Busanpo past Geoje toward Tsushima.
Sky and sea, soldiers and flags, and Park Seong-jin's tally axe all vibrated in a single rhythm.
As the flagship passed, thirty-six ships raised their weapons.
"Loyalty!"
He was not large of frame.
His bearing did not boast of experience.
There was no flamboyance in his face.
The commanders turned their eyes to confirm the man.
Having confirmed him, they straightened their posture all the more.
---*
That day the sea seemed to draw a long breath in and let it out.
The early morning waves bore a blade-like silver sheen.
Each time slanting sunlight fell, the scales of the waves shifted between indigo, jade-white, and ink-black.
The sea changed its colors and forms like an armored general, as if examining the fleet.
From afar, the sound of breaking waves came like the slow beat of drums.
As the warships moved in double columns, the hiss and thud of oars cutting the water spread in a steady rhythm.
That pulse continued like a human heartbeat.
With dozens moving together, the sound became the breathing of a collective body.
The sea wind brushed the nose.
A northwesterly.
A fierce, dry winter wind pushed the canvas sails wide.
Each time the sails drew taut, a low, solid boom resounded.
When that resonance wrapped the fleet, commanders read the wind's intent without exchanging words.
The angles of the ships were quietly adjusted.
The sea spoke no words.
It yielded a path and showed the direction.
Mist lay low upon the water.
It pressed against the bows and split aside.
From ships with lamps lit, faint gold light leaked out.
Blurred shapes flickered within the fog.
The nearby surface was calm.
Farther out, deep, dark eddies coiled.
Each time a ship passed, the whirl split long, then softly closed again.
It was the sea's way of remembering the fleet's passage, then erasing it.
When the ships completed their alignment, the sea fell briefly still.
Droplets falling from oar tips.
Wind brushing mast and rope.
The sense of a large fish turning beneath the surface.
All these minute sounds merged into a grand bass tone.
Upon that low sound, the flagship slid forward, sending heavy ripples in its wake.
There was a moment when sea, fleet, and humans became one body.
It was the sea's brief permission granted to an army.
---*
Park Seong-jin quietly stepped onto the prow of the flagship.
The dark wind cut beneath his robes, whipping the hem.
The massive shadow of the mast poured down behind him, stretching long.
As he set his feet and found the ship's center, the grain of the deck trembled faintly.
It was as though the sea itself received the commander's weight and breath.
Below, the commanders of Gyeongsang looked up at the sight.
The face was far younger than rumor had suggested.
Beneath it lay the hard grain of one long accustomed to life and death.
Someone murmured inwardly.
"So this is the demon of the southern seas."
That murmur turned into another thought.
"Those eyes belong to one who carries the nation on his back."
The commanders' gazes changed.
Wariness receded.
Fear shifted into reverence.
At last, their hearts opened.
Then Park Seong-jin signaled with his fingertips.
All oars lifted at once.
Soldiers across dozens of ships raised their spears in unison.
The sails billowed wide.
Light reflected off the waves, spreading along the spearheads.
Within the mist, flags flared like fire upon the sea.
The formation stood.
The shape of an army advancing with a nation's fate at stake stood.
A procession of destiny unfurled its body upon the water.
Park Seong-jin spoke.
"Review complete.
Advance toward Tsushima."
As the words ended, the sea let out another long breath.
The massive fleet followed that breath and moved forward slowly.
Sails were drawn, oars lowered, and the ships cut a path through the current.