783.Stop the ceremony.
Park Seongjin hesitated for a moment, not choosing words first. His gaze moved before anything else. The soldiers in the front row, the angle of the spear grips, the spacing of their feet, the eyes of the ministers standing behind. The strength in the hand gripping the child's shoulder. He had already reached his conclusion. This was not a place to be settled by persuasion.
"Stop the ceremony."
His voice wasn't loud, but it cut through the air of the meeting room precisely. Someone swallowed audibly. Some instinctively looked up. Some still could not move. The official presiding over the ceremony opened his mouth reluctantly.
"This is the sacred hall."
Park Seongjin didn't look at him. He looked at the child.
"Let go of the child."
This time, his voice was more distinct.
The official's hand trembled slightly. A soldier stepped forward from behind, the tip of his spear directed at Park Seongjin.
"How dare—"
The words didn't finish. Park Seongjin took a step forward. His feet touched the ground, but no sound was made. The air folded beneath his feet first. The spear tip wavered. The soldier's wrist stiffened first. Though he applied force, it didn't advance further.
"This is not a place for fighting."
Park Seongjin's words weren't an explanation. It was a declaration.
"The Sacred Hall is where the nation stands."
The child's eyes met his. Eyes that didn't know what was going on. But those eyes were fixed on Park Seongjin.
"This child is not the king."
A silence filled the space, as though time had stopped.
"He hasn't learned yet, nor has he chosen."
The hand that was gripping the child's shoulder loosened. The owner of that hand didn't even realize it.
"You cannot place anyone here based on their name, but by the nation's time."
A low murmur spread among the ministers. It wasn't denial or protest. It was the breath of realization that something had been uncovered.
Then, from behind, someone stepped forward. The soldiers naturally cleared the way. No command had been given, but their bodies reacted. It was Kim Yong.
His attire was proper. A sword was strapped to his waist. His face showed neither excitement nor impatience.
"Park Seongjin."
He spoke.
"I knew this would come."
Park Seongjin nodded. The moment they faced each other, everything clicked into place.
"Was it your thought to place that child before us?"
Kim Yong glanced at the child for a moment, then nodded.
"When the king is absent, the seat is not left empty."
His words were logical. They were not words of persuasion.
"The nation must always have a ruler."
Park Seongjin's gaze darkened.
"The ruler is not a person, but the order."
Kim Yong smiled. A short, emotionless smile.
"Order is created by people."
The air between the two solidified. The soldiers took a breath, and the ministers stepped back.
Park Seongjin looked Kim Yong directly in the eye.
"The King has returned."
Kim Yong's eyebrows twitched ever so slightly.
"That's why you hurried."
That was enough. Park Seongjin said no more. He didn't draw his sword. He simply raised a hand.
At that moment, the wind in the meeting room stopped. The banners sank, and the clothes of those present stopped fluttering.
"The ceremony ends here."
This time, no one objected. The moment where words could stop the ceremony had already passed.
Park Seongjin extended his hand toward the child.
"Come here."
The child's feet moved. The hand that had been gripping the child's shoulder wasn't shaken off, but it stopped holding. The child's steps turned toward Park Seongjin.
That single step was the end of the ceremony.
Kim Yong exhaled as he watched the scene.
Only then did he realize. This fight would not end with a sword.
The sky above the Sacred Hall remained unchanged. However, on this spot, one era was turning in a new direction.
Park Seongjin surveyed the courtyard of the Sacred Hall one last time.
The blood-spattered bricks, the broken spears, the shattered railings all caught his eye.
Among them, there were those holding their breath. He didn't withdraw his sword. He simply lowered it, very low, as a sign that he wouldn't strike any longer. With that motion, the rules of this place changed. The one who stops, not the one who kills, stood at the center.
"Contact outside. Bring in the Yongho troops. Clean up the palace—" He paused for a moment.
"Bring the King."
The orders flowed quickly. The warriors dispersed. New steps were set on the blood-stained floor.
The courtyard of the Sacred Hall began to slowly be restored.
Then, someone spoke quietly.
"They're coming."
The sound came from far away. First, the sound of hooves was heard, followed by the synchronized footsteps of soldiers like a beat. And above that, the wind stopped.
The small ornaments hanging under the eaves of the Sacred Hall rattled but then stopped. It was as though the palace was holding its breath.
Everyone turned their gaze toward the main gate. The King entered.
There were fewer people than when they had left Hwangan Temple. It wasn't that they had intentionally reduced the number, but people had scattered along the way, and some had turned back midway.
But the steps of those who remained were not scattered. Those who walked before and after the King had no words, and their silence made the tension even clearer.
The King was not riding. He got off at the entrance to the palace and walked in.
The sound of his feet on the bricks was faint, but it resonated, and that sound spread like the heartbeat of the nation through the courtyard of the Sacred Hall.
He stopped the moment he saw the courtyard. The blood, the corpses, the ministers being dragged away on their knees—all of it met his eyes.
And in the middle of it all stood Park Seongjin.
The King's eyes wavered for a moment. The result of the time he had been absent was laid out before him.
He spoke in a low voice.
"…I've come this far."
Park Seongjin did not lower his head. But he met the King's gaze. That was the way of the battlefield.
"Your Majesty."
"I've ended the ceremony. The instigator has been captured. The child you were about to crown is now isolated."
The King's gaze moved inward. He saw Kim Yong, thrown to the ground.
The King took a step forward but then stopped. His face hardened as if aged.
Kim Yong looked up. Blood filled his mouth, and his speech was disordered. Yet he tried to smile.
The King spoke.
"Kim Yong."
With that name, the air in the courtyard grew colder.
Kim Yong trembled as he spoke.
"Your Majesty… I… I did this for you—"
The King raised his hand. It wasn't a scolding gesture, but a sign that the conversation was over.
"For me?"
"Did you close the gates for me, did you crown a new king for me?"
The King took another step forward, stepping on the blood-stained bricks. A small sound echoed beneath his shoes.
That sound rang louder than any other.
"What I endured in Yuan," the King said,
"was not to return and see this."
At that moment, Park Seongjin felt it. Something inside the King had snapped.
The King raised his head and looked at the ministers.
"Who supported this?"
It was a short question, but the answer was already within him.
The ministers started to name names in trembling voices. Some cried, while others pushed each other away.
It was to survive.
The King looked at them, but his face showed no expression.
He no longer found it surprising.
Not being surprised meant that politics had truly begun.