Night Raid
"Assembly.
Form up!
Form up…!"
Ga Gyeong-pil was gathering the men.
Yang Johwi repeated the word assembly under his breath as he hurried.
"Where do we go?"
"The first rally point is over there…
That's Mokryeon Mountain.
Seems there are magnolias there.
They said there's an old ruin at the foot of the mountain.
Let's move."
The summons cut off Soun's thoughts.
They did not continue.
It was said one must cultivate constantly in all postures—walking, sitting, lying down.
Yet even a single thread of contemplation could not be sustained.
Damn.
He felt regret.
Still, he retrieved the horse hidden in the brush and mounted.
He glanced once more toward the enemy camp.
There was no change.
Whether they heard the signal or not, they slept heavily.
Perhaps they had never faced real combat.
In a proper army, when a sound not heard before is suddenly heard, men prepare.
The whistle had sounded.
Signal arrows had risen.
Men were gathering in haste.
Yet the Eorim Army's camp remained quiet and unchanged.
With the enemy commander dead and their advance halted, all the White Dragon units shadowing them gathered nearby.
The Second and Third units that had been laying traps were present.
The First unit that had been harrying the rear was there.
Even the martial artists aiding the Jin estate had come.
It was coincidence.
It was also opportunity.
The enemy had stopped and was deliberating.
A messenger had been sent.
They were waiting for orders from the Imperial Palace.
It was the first night of waiting.
They had not even erected wooden palisades.
There was no proper defensive formation.
It seemed they never imagined the White Dragon Unit would attack.
They were merely encamped on open plains.
A few outer sentries and one guard per tent were all that protected them.
No perimeter barricade.
No rows of planted spears to deter cavalry.
The numerical gap had made them arrogant.
Five thousand against five hundred.
Who would worry?
Lee Hui stood beside Ga Gyeong-pil.
Nearly four hundred White Dragon cavalry gathered.
Lee Hui had largely recovered.
Poison still lingered in him from assassins and palace killers, yet he looked stronger for it.
When all had assembled, he stepped onto slightly higher ground and spoke briefly.
"Tonight.
Now.
We strike.
No mercy.
The target is the center of their circular formation—the command.
Kill the enemy leaders.
Scatter the soldiers.
There is no plan.
We break them tonight."
The men did not hide their excitement.
The White Dragon Unit divided into three columns.
They advanced slowly and silently.
Cloth was wrapped around the horses' hooves.
Cloth covered the gleam of weapon tips.
They moved like wind curling inward from three sides.
The enemy camp did not stir.
Such a simple order.
Such a simple enemy.
It felt like fortune had fallen into their hands.
Soun advanced among them.
He had fought many night battles.
But never had he seen an entire force move at once in darkness.
Usually it was ten men.
Perhaps fifty or sixty at most.
The White Dragon Unit rarely gathered en masse.
He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword.
In the dark, a long halberd would be unwieldy and might injure allies.
A sword was better.
Regret flickered.
His earlier thoughts had been severed.
There was no time to resume them.
He steadied his breath.
He imagined the instant of rupture.
Strike without mercy.
They are the enemy.
Not our kin.
Even thinking further felt indulgent.
The vanguard was detected by an enemy scout.
Before the scout could cry out, a blade flew.
A strangled gasp cut through the night and scraped across Soun's chest.
They still had distance.
"Prepare to fire!"
One hundred fifty riders of the First Unit nocked arrows.
The creak of drawn bowstrings rippled through the night.
Flame was set to signal arrows.
"Enemy!"
Too late.
"Release!"
One hundred fifty flaming arrows arced into the enemy camp.
They were not aimed precisely.
Many struck tents at random.
The damage was scattered.
But confusion exploded.
More volleys followed.
The other two columns did the same.
Canvas tents ignited.
Blind arrows struck blind targets.
Screams tore into the night sky.
This is what I do.
This is what I can do.
This is what I must do.
Soun bit his lip.
A long, piercing battle cry rose above the chaos.
More flaming arrows soared upward like sparks from a festival fire.
They seemed to rise slowly.
They fell fast.
It was night.
They did not need precision.
The enemy were densely gathered.
Even blind arrows found flesh.
Fire spread through the camp.