DN 42

Chapter 42 The Promise Finally Kept

Outside was in an uproar. Since the sudden attack by Hwangseon Nation could lead to a counterstrike from Yuldo Nation, a heavy tension blanketed the entire camp.

The command tent stayed lit deep into the night, and scouts came and went constantly with new reports. Soldiers checked their weapons and fed their horses well, ready to march out at any moment.

The sound of horses snorting, anxious whispers, and the echo of hoofbeats from departing scouts filled the air—quiet, yet deafening.

Stepping out of her tent, Danseol looked around with a confused expression.
She didn’t seem to know why she had come outside, or what she was supposed to do.

“Is it true His Majesty went to attack Yuldo Nation alone?”
“So I’ve heard. Reinforcements arrived there, and it seems he went to seize the initiative.”
“Still, no one expected him to march so soon.”
“Thanks to that, we’re under emergency alert.”

The murmurs around her were all similar—shock over the sudden assault, followed by doubt and unease.
Even from that alone, Danseol could tell Gyeom was in danger.

Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her heart began to pound uncontrollably.

“As you said, I’ll save many lives with this sword.”

That had been her brother Danho’s last promise before leaving for battle.
Soon after, he fell into Cheontaesu’s trap and plummeted off a cliff.

“Nothing will happen. Don’t worry—just focus on your duties.”

Her father had said the same thing before going to surrender to Hwangseon Nation.
He and her mother were later executed without mercy.

“I’ll hold them off! Go first—I’ll catch up soon!”

But Choa, who had sworn to follow after, never did.

One by one, the familiar faces of those she had lost flashed before her eyes—people who had all made confident promises and never returned.

Why were those memories resurfacing now?
Because of that man, Yi Gyeom.

“I’ll be back by nightfall. Wait for me quietly.”

If he was just going to throw her heart into chaos, he shouldn’t have made promises he couldn’t keep.
Danseol felt angry at him—for making her worry, for stirring up old wounds she’d barely managed to bury.

“Lady Dan!”

While she stood frozen outside the tent, uncertain of what to do, Taeyeom spotted her and ran up quickly.

“Are you all right?”

Her face was as pale as parchment. Her unfocused eyes wandered aimlessly, and damp strands of hair clung to the sweat on her neck.

She had always been calm and composed, no matter the circumstance—Taeyeom had never seen her like this.

“Please, come inside.”

He lifted the flap of the tent for her, but Danseol didn’t move.

“I’m fine,”

she said, almost to herself, forcing strength into her trembling voice—
as if she could make it true.

“But you look unwell. It’s late; you should rest—”
“No.”

Her tone was firm as she brushed off his concern.

“Instead, I’d like you to take me to Soo-ui.”

Better to occupy her hands and mind with something—anything—than to sit alone, consumed by a formless dread.
Just as she had once done back in Seolhwa Nation.

* * *

“Ambush!”
“Locate the enemy position!”

The night flared with torches and frantic shouts. Hidden in the shadows, Gyeom watched silently.

“Everyone, move to the rear!”
“We outnumber them! Do not panic!”

As the enemy’s formation began to waver, Gyeom raised his hand and signaled.

“Now.”

At his command, his elite soldiers burst from their hiding spots and stormed the enemy lines.

“An ambush! The earlier attack was just bait!”

The Yuldo soldiers fell into confusion, unable to regroup. Gyeom’s cavalry charged through the chaos, cutting down their throats swiftly and precisely.

“Kgh!”

A dagger Gyeom threw pierced the chest of a messenger running to report the situation.
No good could come from letting that report reach the enemy commander.

“Break through the lines—fast.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”

His soldiers cleaved through the enemy ranks from both sides, creating a path. Gyeom and his men surged forward toward the enemy’s core.

“It’s the Emperor’s banner! All units, attack!”

As Gyeom’s forces penetrated deeper, resistance grew fiercer.
The red flag bearing the golden dragon—the emblem of Hwangseon’s emperor—drew every attack toward him.

But none could reach him. His elite guards shielded him flawlessly, parrying and countering with lethal precision.

Thanks to them, Gyeom reached the enemy commander in moments.

“You came here alone? How foolish!”

The enemy leader lunged with his spear.

“Tonight, I’ll take your head and—!”

Gyeom swung his sword. The man’s head fell before he could finish.
Even the mightiest warrior of Yuldo Nation was no match for Hwangseon’s greatest blade.

“You talk too much.”

Expressionless, Gyeom speared the fallen head onto a pike and raised it high.

“The general has fallen!”
“Run! We’ll all die if we stay!”
“Don’t flee! Hold your ground!”

But the Yuldo soldiers, terrified by the sight of him, broke ranks and scattered.

The name of the Hwangseon Emperor—Yi Gyeom—was more fearsome than rumor.
Facing such a monster was folly; escape was survival.

“We’ve achieved our objective. Withdraw.”
“Yes, Your Majesty!”

Though victory was clear, Gyeom didn’t pursue the fleeing troops.
Crushing their morale had been his true goal—there was no need for unnecessary slaughter.

“Your Majesty! Look out!”

He turned sharply at the warning—
and saw a rain of arrows darken the sky.

The archers they had tied down earlier had arrived at last.

* * *

“Please drink this. The herbs will help ease the pain.”
“Thank you, thank you…”

To drive away her anxiety, Danseol had chosen to tend the wounded.

“I heard my help was needed.”

Guided by Taeyeom, she met Soo-ui Han Judan and offered her assistance—
but only on the condition that she would care for the non-contagious injured, separated from the plague patients.
That way, she avoided the risk of infection.

“Lead me to the next patient.”

She gestured to her attendant and rose, exhaustion plain on her face.

“Please rest a little,”

said Taeseorang, stopping her gently.

“I can still see one or two more.”
“That’s enough. Dawn will break soon—you should sleep at least until then.”
“I just… didn’t want to let go of hope.”
“…”
“Perhaps, like these soldiers waiting for their comrades to return, I too wanted to believe that the one I wait for will come back.”

Even as Seolhwa Nation crumbled, Danseol had thrown herself into tending the wounded—perhaps out of the same fragile hope.
If she could save someone else’s life, maybe her loved one could survive out there, too.
It was the only way she had managed to stay sane.

To others, her self-sacrifice had seemed noble.
But it had really just been a desperate grasp for meaning.

“You seem deeply worried about His Majesty.”
“Perhaps…”

She couldn’t tell whether it was truly worry for Gyeom,
or a reflex born from past trauma.
She just needed to keep moving—anything to stop her mind from thinking.