Sahyeon blinked blankly and looked up at him.
A boy who seemed to be around the same age as Sahyeon.
However, he wasn’t wearing filthy armor or looking scruffy.
His hair was neatly tied, and he wore silk garments—an appearance completely out of place on a battlefield.
There was no need to wonder who he was.
He was the young son that Taebo Chunwon of Yugang had brought as a hostage in exchange for a peace treaty.
The one the soldiers had just mentioned—the “terrified stuttering boy.”
“I was… just washing up, sir.”
The “young master” of the enemy nation released his grip on Sahyeon’s collar in shock when the dirty little boy recognized him, stumbling back with a splash.
But he soon seemed to realize that his clothing indeed marked him as a “young master.”
His hollow chuckle confirmed it.
Realizing they were of similar age, the tension in his expression seemed to ease.
“You suddenly dunked your head in the water—I thought you’d fainted.”
He wasn’t far off.
Had the boy not pulled him up, Sahyeon might have just collapsed and died there.
“The blood from earlier had dried on me. I was trying to let the current wash some of it away.”
“Blood…”
The young master’s voice, which had begun to regain composure, started trembling again.
“Then you… you were in that battle earlier…”
The stream flowing past their calves chilled Sahyeon to the knees.
He grabbed the boy’s sleeve and led him back onto the sandbank.
If he were to be swept away by the current, the fragile end of this war might become even more distant.
Only after making sure he had stepped up onto the riverbank did Sahyeon release his sleeve.
But before Sahyeon could fully withdraw his hand, the boy suddenly grabbed his wrist.
“You were… in that battle?”
His hand trembled violently.
“Yes.”
What kind of answer had he hoped for?
This was enemy territory, and Sahyeon was part of the enemy army.
At that moment, Sahyeon realized something anew.
Just as he was an enemy to this young master, the young master was also someone from enemy lines.
Should he really be speaking so casually like this?
If anyone saw them, it could be grounds for accusations of consorting with the enemy.
He should shake him off and leave.
“How old are you?”
The warmth from the hand on his wrist was strangely comforting.
“Twelve.”
It felt like something had wrapped around his whole arm—he couldn’t move.
“We’re the same age. But the Grand General said I was too young to be on the battlefield.”
The boy tightly shut his eyes.
The trembling in his grip stopped, and his hold grew firmer.
Sahyeon, coming to his senses, pulled his hand away.
As he stumbled backward, ready to flee, the young master spoke in a subdued voice.
“There must have been a mistake. I’ll speak with the Grand General and ask him to get you out of this camp.”
Was he trying to get him killed?
No—if death were the only consequence, that would be fortunate.
If they interrogated him about what he said to the enemy, if they tortured him, he might regret not having died in the battle earlier.
Sahyeon hurriedly grabbed the boy, who was trying to show him an unwanted kindness.
“There were kids even younger than me.”
“Then bring them. Where are they?”
“There were many. So many.”
The boy looked confused.
Sahyeon wondered if he really had to explain it this much.
But knowing he might naively run off to ask the Grand General if left unclear, Sahyeon sighed and continued.
“One of the Hundred-Man Units was made up entirely of boys under fourteen and elders over sixty.”
There was no other way to raise an army of tens of thousands in a land devastated by long war.
Some families, knowing it was near planting season, purposely sent out the useless young and old.
Others, like Sahyeon, had been snatched from the streets, unable even to say goodbye to their mothers.
“Then those kids now…”
“They’ve all crossed the River of the Dead.”
“I’m barely surviving myself. So please, just don’t let me die meaninglessly at the end of this war.”
The young master nodded, as if he finally understood.
“The war will end soon.”
Then, as if trying to offer comfort, he lowered his voice and whispered:
“My father asked our country to surrender five fortresses to Hahyeon in exchange for ending the war. We’ll start withdrawing troops tomorrow. Until the royal decree arrives, he said he would leave me here as a promise.”
He said all this as if it were privileged information, even though the soldiers already knew.
“So you’ll be able to go home soon.”
As if it were hopeful news.
“But that doesn’t mean the war is truly over, does it?”
Feeling strangely irritated, Sahyeon replied curtly.
“I just told you—my country…”
“This war may end, but there will be another one to take back the forts. In the end, I’ll die like a dog in another battlefield someday. I’m just buying a few more months.”
“That’s…”
“You’ve probably studied more than me, so tell me this—will there ever be a day when the war truly ends?”
They both knew this conversation was meaningless.
Sahyeon was just a lowly soldier struggling to survive each day, and the boy was a noble who didn’t even know who was fighting on this battlefield.
“Someday…”
And yet, the young master still parted his lips to offer an answer.
“If someone wins decisively and claims everything at the end of this dreadful war—if there’s no longer any reason to fight…”
It was a childishly simplistic solution.
But that also made it clear.
Of course—if someone reunified these fragmented kingdoms and rebuilt the old empire, at least then they wouldn’t have to fight over every last fortress like this.
After the old empire fell due to corruption and civil war, over a dozen successor states emerged, each claiming kingship.
After a hundred years of chaos, only three remained: Yugang in the southeast, Hahyeon in the southwest, and Pasa in the north.
All three had claimed to be the true heirs of the empire for over a century.
By now, the stories of the old empire felt like a distant legend, and any hope of reunification seemed long gone.
“I—I’ll do my best too!”
Maybe if he hadn’t stuttered, it would’ve sounded more convincing.
“S-So here.”
The young master fumbled and took something from around his neck, pressing it into Sahyeon’s hand.
“This is the name plaque of our family. Here—this is the crest of the Yang (梁) clan, and the name inscribed here is mine.”
“Chae-yoon (彩)?”
Surprise flashed in Sahyeon’s eyes.
“You know how to read?”
His mother, from a fallen noble family, had somehow managed to obtain books and taught Sahyeon to read, despite their difficult life.
However, Sahyeon never learned how exactly his mother’s family had fallen.
Judging from the circumstances, he could only guess they had been involved in treason.
“If the war ends and I can’t return to my homeland, and I remain here in Hahyeon, bring this with you and come find me. Our Yang clan is a collateral branch of the royal house of Yugang, so you won’t be treated poorly.”
” I’ll grant you a house and some servants at least. So, I’ll hire you—and your family. That way, you might avoid conscription into the war.”
The sudden offer of generosity left Sahyeon unsure of how to react.
He furrowed his brow and fidgeted with the name plaque.
“The only family I have is my mother.”
He added, unnecessarily.
“Ah, right. What’s your name?”
After some hesitation, Sahyeon spoke.
“From the Baek family, my name is Sahyeon.”
“You have a surname?”
As expected, Chae-yoon’s voice carried surprise.
Having a surname implied that, however faintly, noble blood still ran through Sahyeon’s veins.
“It’s my mother’s surname.”
“I see. No wonder you speak in such a refined manner.”
Sahyeon wondered how Chae-yoon might have reacted if he hadn’t mentioned his surname—but before he could voice that petty curiosity, Chae-yoon reached out and gently took Sahyeon’s hands in his own.
Then he took the name plaque Sahyeon was absentmindedly holding and hung it around his neck himself.
“You must always keep this with you.”
The warmth from his touch lingered like a burn.
Perhaps it was fortunate that he hadn’t died earlier that day.
Perhaps there was some meaning to being dragged into this horrific war.
Perhaps…
He returned to the 10th unit, rain quietly falling on him.
Clutching the name plaque Chae-yoon had given him, he fell asleep.
When the morning sun rose, word spread that Yugang’s Grand Guardian, thanks to the supreme commander’s great generosity, had returned to the main camp with the son he had brought along as a hostage.
Of course, such fortune was never meant to last for someone like Sahyeon.
It had merely been one night—one night of dreamlike hope.
That day, oddly, it rained all day long.
Feeling hopeful that victory was near, they received larger-than-usual rice balls and ate to their fill before falling asleep again.
But in the moment he was jolted awake by an ominous rumble in the earth—A torrential surge, like a waterfall, came crashing down from upstream where the Yugang camp had been, swallowing everything in its path.
July, Year 985 of the Old Empire Calendar.
Yang Jookyung, the Grand Guardian of Yugang, annihilated Hahyeon’s 100,000-strong army with a flood attack.
This is known as the Great Victory of Maechun.
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