CHAPTER 19
1017 Words
As the Gojhang Empire plots, a month passes. In Chongsan's royal palace...
King Taejo slumps in his throne, looking pale and disheveled.
"Five towns... five provinces... lost to that snake Daejong."
Royal Physician approaches the king cautiously.
"Your Majesty, please, you must rest. This stress is taking a toll on your health."
He waves off the physician.
"Rest? While my people suffer? I think not! Bring me more reports, more... more..."
The king's words trail off as he breaks into a fit of coughing.
Court Minister wrings his hands nervously.
"Your Majesty, perhaps we should postpone the poetry reading scheduled for this evening?"
He struggles to sit up straight.
"Nonsense! Poetry is... is the lifeblood of our culture. We must not let Daejong take that from us too!"
Outside the palace, worried whispers spread through the streets of the capital.
Vendor leans over her stall, speaking in hushed tones.
"Have you heard? They say the king hasn't left the palace in days. Some say he's fallen ill with worry!"
Town Crier clears his throat before addressing the gathering crowd.
"Hear ye, hear ye! His Majesty King Taejo assures the people that all is well within the kingdom!"
The crowd murmurs, clearly unconvinced by the proclamation.
Elderly Woman squints at the town crier.
"All is well? With five of our towns under that Gojhang butcher's boot? Pah!"
Young Man clenches his fist.
"We should fight back! Why does the king do nothing?"
Back in the palace, King Taejo's condition worsens.
He mumbles, eyes unfocused.
"The cherry blossoms fall... like our towns... to Daejong's grasp..."
Royal Physician turns to the court ministers.
"We must act quickly. The king's fever is rising, and his mind wanders. Fetch me cold compresses and my strongest herbs!"
He paces back and forth.
"What do we tell the people? If word gets out that the king is this ill..."
Royal Advisor steps forward, voice low.
"We tell them nothing. For now, we must project strength. If Daejong learns of this weakness..."
As night falls, anxious crowds gather outside the palace gates, demanding news of their beloved king.
King Taejo tosses in his bed, muttering.
"My people... I've failed you... The empire of words crumbles before the empire of swords..."
As the king's condition deteriorates, a cloaked figure slips into the palace grounds.
Chansu scales the palace wall with ease, silent in the shadows.
"Cousin, we need to talk. Now."
Bimboryeo whirls around, hand on his sword.
"Chansu? By the spirits, you nearly gave me a heart attack!"
He steps into the moonlight, revealing his face.
"Still jumpy as ever, I see. Some things never change."
The cousins embrace briefly, then Chansu's expression turns serious.
He glances towards the king's chambers.
"I've heard whispers, cousin. Is it true? Has Uncle Taejo truly fallen ill?"
He nods solemnly.
"It's worse than the rumors, Chansu. He's... he's not himself anymore."
He leans close to Bimboryeo.
"And still no action against Gojhang? We're losing towns left and right!"
He runs a hand through his hair.
"You think I don't know that? But with Father like this... our hands are tied."
He grips Bimboryeo's shoulder.
"Then perhaps it's time we untied them, cousin. The people need a leader who can act."
Bimboryeo's eyes widen at the implication in Chansu's words.
He steps back, shaking his head.
"Chansu, you can't be suggesting... No. Father will recover. He must."
He looks out over the city.
"And if he doesn't? How many more towns will fall while we wait?"
A distant cough echoes from the king's chambers, making both men flinch.
He clenches his fists.
"I... I need time to think, Chansu. This isn't a decision to be made lightly."
He begins to fade back into the shadows.
"Think quickly, cousin. Gojhang won't wait for us to make up our minds."
As Chansu disappears, Bimboryeo is left alone with his troubled thoughts.
He looks between the city and his father's chambers.
"Father, guide me. What would you have me do?"
A feeble cough echoes from the king's chambers, drawing Bimboryeo's attention.
The king's voice, barely above a whisper, calls out.
"Bimboryeo... my son... come closer."
He rushes to his father's bedside, kneeling beside him.
"Father! You shouldn't strain yourself. Save your strength."
He grasps Bimboryeo's hand with surprising strength.
"No, my boy. There's something... something you must know. The chief priest's vision..."
Bimboryeo leans in, confusion etched on his face as his father's words trail off.
He furrows his brow, squeezing his father's hand.
"Vision? What vision, Father?"
His eyes glaze over, lost in memory.
"Years ago... he spoke of Chongsan's fall... a new kingdom rising from its ashes..."
He recoils slightly, eyes widening.
"Chongsan's fall? But that's impossible! We've withstood so much already."
He pulls Bimboryeo closer, his voice urgent.
"Listen, my son. The prophecy... You must fulfill it."
The weight of his father's words settles on Bimboryeo like a heavy cloak.
He shakes his head, voice trembling.
"Me? But Father, I... I can't believe it. How can I be responsible for both our fall and rise?"
A ghost of a smile plays on his lips.
"Sometimes, my boy, we must break before we can be rebuilt stronger."
He stands abruptly, pacing the room.
"This is madness! How can I accept a prophecy that dooms our people?"
His voice gains strength, echoing his former authority.
"It is not doom, but transformation. You have always seen paths others missed, Bimboryeo."
Outside, the wind howls, as if nature itself senses the weight of this revelation.
He turns back to his father, jaw set.
"And what of Chansu's words? He speaks of action, of leadership..."
He chuckles weakly, a spark of his old self shining through.
"Ah, your cousin. Always so direct. Perhaps... perhaps his path and the prophecy are one and the same."
His eyes widen as understanding dawns.
"You mean... to fulfill the prophecy, I must.."
He closes his eyes, sinking back into his pillows.
"You must do what is necessary, my son. For Chongsan. For our people."
He clutches his head, overwhelmed by the implications.
"But Father, how can I possibly..."
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