Soun's Dilemma
As the night deepened, so did his thoughts.
They had received orders to remain on standby, so they took position on a low hill near where the five thousand troops were encamped.
It was somewhat distant, yet close enough to launch an immediate strike if needed.
Yang Johwi had chosen the spot with uncanny skill.
It offered a clear view while still allowing them to rest in comfort.
Thick brush often looked ideal, but most of it was damp beneath.
The place Yang selected was carpeted with short, springy grass, soft enough to sit on.
Trees of moderate height encircled it, concealing them from below.
Even if they lay down to sleep unnoticed, a passing enemy would likely miss them.
Such knowledge was born of long ambushes and distant campaigns.
Yang Johwi admired his own choice, scanned the surroundings, and then looked at Soun.
"How is it? Good, isn't it? Let's rest here and think. Those men need time. And it seems our Scholar Yu needs time as well."
Soun smiled faintly.
He knew there was no easy answer.
The hardship of living did not come merely from tired muscles.
Perhaps it came from having to do what one already knew was not the answer.
Perhaps it came from being unable to step off the platform one stood upon.
The fortune-teller at Cheongidang near his home would call it destiny.
Some said it was ability.
Others said it was the quality of the spoon one was born with.
But was it truly so?
He had seen men whose "spoons" changed overnight due to regional development.
Their children were uneducated, they had no real occupation, and they aged ten years beyond their salaried peers.
Yet they were content.
He was not trying to define life with a single answer.
He only wished to say that life was too precious and valuable to be reduced to a single cause.
The moment one said "because of this," something twisted out of place.
"All right then, Uncle."
Yang Johwi was called uncle again and did not protest.
Soun asked,
"Why does a martial artist train in martial arts? I mean, what is the fundamental purpose?"
"To crush the enemy. Of course. To crush the barbarians."
But the enemy before them did not fit that definition so cleanly.
Was that army truly the enemy?
Yang Johwi glanced at Soun as he spoke.
Even in the darkness, Soun's face seemed bright.
His thoughts were visible.
The conflict within him could almost be grasped by hand.
The easy divisions of right and wrong made by adults were laid bare in him.
Perhaps because he was still a child.
"What if the enemy, at some point, isn't truly the enemy? What if he isn't a villain, but someone forced into becoming the enemy?"
Yang Johwi understood what he meant.
The enemy of the world was rarely pure evil.
It was a role assigned.
A position one was forced to occupy.
He himself had found that he too had stood in such positions in life.
With the weight of experience, Yang Johwi grinned.
"Isn't saving the world beyond the scope of what we do, Scholar Yu?"
He drew the line first.
When Soun's thoughts deepened, following him too far felt like being dragged into a black hole that swallowed the soul.
Better to cut it off early.
But Soun did not retreat.
"Then who saves the world?"
"The world doesn't need saving. It turns as it always has.
People divide into factions and fight. If interests align, they unite. If they think something right, they raise their voices. If not, they retreat and at least secure their own gain.
That's the world. Some carry swords, some carry abacuses, some carry farming tools.
Judging it neatly as right or wrong, good or evil, is bound to contain error."
Though rambling, Soun understood perfectly.
"So you mean we should leave it as it is.
Even if General Jin Mugwang is sacrificed at the hands of those pitiful men?"
At the mention of Jin Mugwang, Yang Johwi flinched.
That was the heart of Soun's turmoil.
"People hold different values.
We fight because we believe it is wrong.
They carry swords to feed their families, to raise children, to care for parents, earning less than a thousandth of a magistrate's stipend.
Their value lies in pay.
Ours lies in something loftier—justice, righteousness, and faith that it will benefit the world in the long run."
"Then is it acceptable for someone with a higher system of values to kill those living in a lower one?
If it makes the world better, is it justified?"
"At least, that's what I believe."
Yang Johwi added,
"You're thinking too much.
In my view, if we kill the Emperor, the head of the Black Blade, and that Chancellor, it might be resolved.
The world will still boil and churn.
But we'd shed the accusation of rebellion.
Then we'd return to living in that churning world.
Right now, we're the ones about to be crushed."
"The sacrifice seems too great.
Too much blood is being spilled."
"Yes. They treat human lives too lightly.
Following your line of thought, even I ended up here.
But thinking like this during battle gets you killed.
Too many thoughts gnaw at the soul.
I think this: the laws that made the world will resolve such things on their own.
We simply live in it.
Anything beyond that is not my domain."
But Soun could not live that way.
He had crossed beyond the boundary of ordinary men.
He stared at the distant campfires below.
An ordinary man might live as Yang said.
But one who had crossed into the realm of Hwagyeong could not.
If someone in high office behaved like an ordinary citizen taking bribes, the world would collapse.
He could not say, "I am the same as everyone else."
How should someone like me live?
One who has stepped beyond the ordinary.
Is my existence itself unlawful in this world?
He wished he could light a fire, but they were too close to the enemy camp.
As the night deepened further, a thin, piercing whistle split the sky.
It was the long, narrow signal used only by the Baekryong Unit.
The same sound that had echoed across the distant sands of Haran.
Yang Johwi sprang to his feet from where he had been reclining against a tree.
It was the signal to assemble.
In the desert, when that sound rose, they gathered.
When the signal flare rose, battle began.
The hour when questions of existence and doubt became meaningless.
It was time to work.
It was work.