I Became a Fallen Noble of Goguryeo

Chapter 52: The Last Stretch

Honestly, I admitted it.

My mental state was not in a good place right now.

I had killed people, and I had slaughtered livestock in great numbers, convincing myself that I had grown accustomed to the cruelty of this era.

But that was only a taste… compared to the standards of the time, Pyeongyang had been close to heaven.

Look at Go San.

That man did not treat refugees like livestock.

Livestock were valuable beings, and one should never treat them that way.

Go San treated refugees like plants.

He adjusted the amount of nutrients they received just low enough to stress them, accelerating their desire to survive.

Through fights among themselves, the weaker ones were naturally weeded out.

Only the ones that survived were transplanted like seedlings into new villages.

They culled themselves, they pledged loyalty on their own, and they settled in on their own.

It was an efficient system that needed no further comment.

Go San, who had long dealt with the Lower Household, was very much seasoned in handling impoverished peasants.

By my standards, it looked inhumane, but that was not something I could criticize.

If one pointed out flaws, one also had to present an alternative.

So, the question was this.

‘Here and now,’ ‘as small as I am,’ ‘immediately,’ could I offer a better method than that?

No matter how many times I thought it through, the conclusion was always the same.

There was none.

From the very beginning, the high officials including Go Yangseong must have assigned Go San to the north based on a similar judgment.

‘Bitter, truly bitter.’

That evening again, fights broke out among the refugees.

“Hand it over….”

“Let me have something to eat today too…!”

Countless refugees died once more.

And just as many newly dead were replaced by fresh waves pouring in.

Some died, and some fought their way back to life.

Watching that sight, my fists clenched on their own.

‘This is the life of a refugee.’

It was the life of those who had lost their homes to war.

Only then did I realize that the ‘war’ I had envisioned in my head had been nothing more than imagination.

War was always more horrific than one imagined.

The fragments of war lying before my eyes were truly maddening.

Which was more dreadful—these fragments of war, or the war itself?

Having not yet experienced the battlefield, I could not give a clear answer.

But one thing was certain.

I never wanted to give this kind of future to the people I loved.

As I was thinking that—

“Over there, it’s Gun’an Fortress.”

We had reached our destination.

As soon as we arrived, Go San brought out the token and compared it with the military register at Gun’an Fortress.

The result came quickly.

“It matches perfectly. Greetings, Yoksa. By the way, I see you have brought refugees.”

“That’s right. I swept up everyone I could see who had returned inside. The rear will be quiet for a while.”

In the end, about two thousand refugees had followed us.

Go San spoke.

“Have the refugees settle in this area. With their tenacity, they’ll be useful.”

“Understood.”

Those two thousand finally achieved their goal.

They would take their allotted food and settle down.

And we too achieved our first objective. ʀᴇᴀᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇsᴛ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀᴛ noᴠelfire.net

By clearing away the refugees who had penetrated deep, we prevented disorder in the north.

At the same time, because we saved as much food as possible, we still had enough left to resettle over five thousand people with ease.

If we had distributed everything freely, our supplies would have run out halfway through.

In short, Go San’s strategy was a heroic act, solving the refugee crisis completely while minimizing food consumption.

The refugees following us would think the same.

They had survived, and they had gained a place to live.

They would live with gratitude to Goguryeo.

The first step could be called a great success.

It was heavy on the heart, but—

That was reality.

When we arrived at Gun’an Fortress, crowds quickly gathered in groups inside the walls.

The Yoksa who managed nearby fortresses, the Choryeogeunji, the Nuch’o, as well as lords and nobles from all around came.

Not only from the western region where Gun’an Fortress stood, but even from the distant north.

In truth, it felt like everyone with influence in the north had gathered.

It was a moment that showed both the grip Go San, the head of the Domestic Fortress Faction, held over the north, and how serious the refugee issue was in the region.

“We have come to discuss the matter of the northern refugees.”

“Yes, uncles, I am a little late, am I not?”

“Late? Hardly, young master. I myself only just arrived.”

I looked at the crowd.

About half greeted Go San with fervor, while the others seemed more distant.

Those who were very close to Go San were likely the northern men of the Domestic Fortress Faction.

Those a little removed must have been from the west.

One of the western men, standing a bit awkwardly, glanced at me and asked.

“By the way, Yoksa… who is the one beside you?”

“Ah, he is my Garadal. Ondal.”

“Ondal? Is that the very Ondal?”

Among them, a burly man stepped forward to me.

“I’ve heard much about you from Maeng Sap.”

“Oh, might you be—?”

“Yes. I am Maeng Bu, his uncle. My elder brother, the Western Division Leader, was busy with affairs in Liaodong Fortress, so I came in his stead. That rascal Maeng Sap insisted I must learn about your Agricultural Light Law.”

The things I had built at the National Academy spread slowly but surely.

So, the western men who had heard of me through Maeng Sap were generally favorable toward me.

But the northern men were a little different.

“Is that not the shameless man who took away the Princess once betrothed to Yoksa Go San?”

Well, I had expected this would come up.

But this was nothing more than excessive loyalty.

“Then from now on, I will ask the uncles who to choose as Garadal and pick accordingly, is that fine?”

“Ah, no, that is not what I meant….”

“Wasn’t it? Never mind then.”

Go San covered for me a little, but I could not be careless; this was probably another carrot-and-stick operation.

‘I needed to get my act together from now on if I wanted to play my part.’

People did not fail the carrot-and-stick because they did not know it, but because, when faced with it long enough, they gave in.

First, Go San looked at the gathered people and spoke.

“Before we discuss among ourselves, uncles, are there any courtesans around here?”

“Courtesans are always around.”

“Right, our people are exhausted, so let’s loosen the reins for them tonight.”

In the Western Land’s records, Goguryeo was often described as ‘licentious.’

Men and women gathering at night to dance regardless of rank, marrying for love if they pleased, holding rites not purely Confucian but mixed with shamanism and Buddhism—all these were classed as ‘licentious acts’ from the Western Land’s perspective.

Viewed from a twenty-first-century standpoint, these acts were hardly obscene, and even by modern Korean standards there was not no reason to call them ‘licentious.’

‘Goguryeo had an unusually large number of courtesans.’

Needless to say, it was because of war.

War produced many widows and orphans, and soldiers were the courtesans’ main clientele.

But apart from that, it was a bit absurd for the Western Land to call the sight of courtesans parading about licentious.

The Western Land fought as many wars as Goguryeo, so surely they had many such people as well.

Perhaps in Goguryeo the trade was recognized to some extent as a ‘profession,’ while in the Western Land it was pushed underground—just a difference in degree, I suspected.

In any case, a courtesan’s life was harsh.

Those who had lost husbands to civil war, to warfare, or to nearby Malgal-Khitan raids had no cause to laugh, yet to survive they had to sell even their laughter.

Just like now.

“Shall I sing a song?”

“Ha ha! Good idea!”

The courtesans and the chang-u (倡優, female entertainers) livened the soldiers’ modest feast and soon slipped away in twos and threes with the soldiers.

Hosan, who had been singing “courtesan, courtesan” on the way here, had two or three of them clinging to him.

“Hey, isn’t this doraji? It’s ginseng powder.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You’ve met me well. I’ll give this to you if you’ll spend the night with me.”

“Will you really give all that? With this I could buy a whole field.”

“A whole field? Isn’t that why you do this job?”

“That’s true, but….”

The courtesans following Hosan had particularly fat pockets, spending all the money they had risked their lives to earn.

“Woongbeom, how about you?”

“I have no interest. It would be a waste to spend precious things on one night’s pleasure.”

“Hmm, do you have a reason for saving so stubbornly?”

“I’ll gather first and think later; if I do not save, how will I know how to spend?”

He collected simply because he liked it.

Woongbeom said that and then, as if remembering, added, “By the way, shouldn’t you go inside? If a noble is seen beside a courtesan, strange rumors will spread.”

“Ah, right.”

Most of the courtesans’ patrons were commoners.

Nobles avoided courtesans and even kisaeng; a rumor of frequenting such places could wreck a reputation.

Isn’t there an anecdote about Kim Yushin?

When the young Kim Yushin frequented kisaeng houses, his mother, Lady Manmyeong (a Silla princess), scolded him.

“Yushin, I am old and weary, and I live for you; you should think about rising in the world, not spending your days drinking with women who sell liquor.”

Roughly put, it was a long version of “Mother is ashamed; stop it or I’ll die of embarrassment.”

Kim Yushin quit the kisaeng houses, but the problem was that his horse was registered as a frequent visitor.

One day he drank and, despite having quit the kisaeng houses, pressed the horse’s autonomous button.

The overly clever horse walked to the kisaeng house it always went to when its master drank, and an enraged Kim Yushin beheaded the horse.

This was the famous anecdote of <Kim Yushin Who Cut Off a Horse’s Head>.

From that tale one could see… there was little good to come from being close to courtesans.

Before marriage it earned scorn, and after marriage it could be ruin.

I was especially sensitive to this.

Wasn’t the wife’s family a million times higher in status?

I had little interest and even less intention of going to such places, but bad luck could strike regardless.

If you wanted to avoid smoke from chimneys, the best way was to stay away from firewood in the first place.

“Take care.”

“Take care, master.”

I left Hosan and Woongbeom and returned.

After that, something of the tension drained from me.

‘…What should I do now?’

Having finished the arduous march and finally obtained rest, I did not know what to do.

I considered hanging about for some small task, but I soon shook my head.

The second political tip Boknyeo had given after ‘eating on time’ was ‘rest when you rest.’

Boknyeo had warned, “Impatience, laziness, and arrogance all stem from exhaustion; avoid these three and you will avert the worst outcomes.”

At first I wondered what kind of tip that was, but after working I realized how important it was.

Looking at the place, food would not go down easily and rest would not come easily either.

That must have been why Boknyeo urged it so insistently.

So now was the time to rest.

I took out the Goryeo Myosan from my pack.

I had given my first handmade Goryeo Myosan set to Eulmundeok (if it had been the twenty-first century, I would have sold it on some site like eBay for billions), but besides that, I had quite a few Goryeo Myosan sets.

Boknyeo had insisted I take one with me.

I had thought, ‘Will I even have time to play?’ but in hindsight it was prescience.

Just seeing, holding, and clinking the familiar things calmed me a bit.

Come to think of it, someone being obsessed with courtesans, someone with gambling, someone with drink—these might be personal survival strategies in such harsh circumstances.

Not necessarily good methods, but good and bad were irrelevant if one was trying to survive.

‘I want to play one round, but there’s no one who knows how, is there?’

At best Go San might, but asking him to play Goryeo Myosan felt awkward, so I began fiddling with the miniature alone.

“Oh! Lord Ondal! You really came!”

From afar, a man on horseback grinned, baring his empty teeth.

“…Soyong? Is that you, Soyong?”

I never thought I would be glad to see this fellow.

The man before me was Soyong, whom I had last seen four years ago during the Heavenly Deity Rite.

He boasted proudly.

“I am now a Deputy Judge.”

“Deputy Judge?”

“Yes. I already have ten men under me.”

The Judge rank was one step higher than the Attendant Official, the entry-level 14th rank.

Nobles who entered the National Academy as Attendant Officials usually graduated to start their careers directly as Elders of various grades, but commoners who could not had to go through the 13th rank Deputy Judge and the 12th rank Judge.

It felt like their speed of promotion depended on birth status, and the difficulty of this process was extremely high.

If it were easy, why would the class system exist at all?

I looked at Soyong differently.

“You must have worked hard.”

“Do you see this?”

Soyong pointed at his neck.

There was a large scar I had never seen before.

“It was a Khitan blade. If it had gone in another hand’s length, I would be dead. Well, thanks to this I was promoted one rank, so in a way, it’s a blessing.”

Soyong laughed awkwardly.

I exchanged a few words with him about recent affairs.

“…What? You are the Lord of the Hereditary Village Allotment of Beomchon?”

“That’s how it turned out. What, doesn’t it bother you that a fallen noble is head of a village?”

“No, that was ages ago….”

“About ten years ago?”

“…Th-that time, I was truly, truly, truly the most sorry man in the world.”

“It’s fine.”

I tapped his shoulder.

“Still, I never thought I would meet you here.”

“You told me if I wanted to build merit and become an Elder, I should head west.”

“West doesn’t mean just Gun’an Fortress, does it? There are more than ten fortresses there.”

“Call it fate, then.”

“So, do you still have the dream of becoming a Junior Elder?”

“Of course. I even took a blade to the neck and advanced a step, so wouldn’t it be a waste to give up now?”

His dream was to become a proper noble of Elder rank and send his son to the National Academy.

That dream was the strength keeping him here.

I thought it was a hundred times better than Hosan, who squandered his hard-earned money on courtesans, ready to die tomorrow satisfied, saying, ‘I embraced every woman in the north and south! A good life it was!’

Or was it?

Perhaps not.

For Hosan would die satisfied, but this fellow might die full of regret, his dream unfulfilled.

…It was complicated.

I abandoned such half-baked philosophy; it did not suit me.

Instead, I did what I needed to do.

“About nobility—there is something I want to tell you.”

“What is it?”

“To become a noble, you must be sharp on noble fashions. Do you know what is popular among the young nobles these days?”

“No. I’ve been stuck here all along.”

I pulled out a board.

“This is called <Goryeo Myosan>. Can you read?”

“If I could read, would I still be a commoner?”

“Come see me when you have time. I’ll teach you Chinese characters, Idu, and Mac script.”

“I know what Chinese characters and Idu are, but what is Mac script?”

“It’s a kind of thing… think of it as a cipher nobles use among themselves.”

At that, Soyong groaned.

“Noble lords truly dabble in all sorts of things….”

“You’ll find it useful if you want to rise.”

Besides, this was something I needed as well.

‘I am practically alone here.’

Whatever I wanted to start, I needed limbs and a base to move.

In that sense, Soyong, long stationed in this region, was like rain in a drought.

‘And he was a Deputy Judge, too.’

The Deputy Judge was not a commander, but one who supported commanders in all ways and helped administer the army.

Roughly speaking, like a sergeant, spending the most time with the common soldiers.

Anyone who had been in the military knew that these men were the backbone who bridged soldiers and commanders.

To control a group, the easiest way was to hold its backbone.

If I earned their trust, it would surely help greatly.

“You can bring others who want to learn as well.”

“Really?”

“Do I joke about such things? Bring as many as you can.”

Step by step, I built my foundation in the cold north.

1. The Deputy Judge and Judge were the 13th and 12th ranks. The “jeol” (절) was a kind of credential, a tool symbolizing a commander’s authority.

One half was kept by the state, and the other half by the local office; matching them proved an appointment was official.

Even the tale of King Yuri matching the beam and the sword could be seen as an allegory for the “jeol.”

And the terms Judge (“passing the jeol”) and Deputy Judge (“not passing the jeol”) were understood in this way.

For instance, at parades, the 13th rank Deputy Judge could not pass before the bearer of the jeol, but from the 12th rank Judge upward, they could.