There Is No Sejong In My Joseon [EN]: Chapter 391

392. The Face of War (3)

The entirety of the Central Plains was blanketed in chlorine gas.

Not a single rat, not a single blade of grass – nothing that had taken root in the Central Plains survived.

In this land, devoid of all life, the only things moving were the masked hordes of the heretical cult.

With torches blazing amidst the yellow fog, they parted to the sides, and a familiar face stepped forward.

It was Dan, sporting a thick mustache.

Having mastered the Blood Art and reached the impervious state of Vajra Body [an indestructible state achieved through rigorous training in martial arts and esoteric practices], Dan had no need for a gas mask.

However, even more shocking than Dan’s appearance were the words that followed.

Dan raised his fist and shouted.

“Thirty years since our Lord Father was assassinated by the rebel dogs of the Central Plains while ascending Mount Tai! The day to fulfill our long-cherished desire has finally come!”

Who… what was assassinated?

“Once the secret art is activated, our Lord Father will be freed from his long curse and reveal himself once more upon this land!”

“Waaaah!”

“The Blood Demon descends!”

The post-apocalyptic-styled scholar-officials cheered, brandishing all sorts of bizarre and arcane weapons.

“Blood Demon Rebirth, Myriad Demons Return!”

“Resurrect, Lord Father!”

Oh, no! You crazy bastards!

I’d rather achieve enlightenment than become a totem for these pseudo-religious lunatics.

Where’s my old man? Yi Seong-gye… no, Grandpa, you need to save me right now!

But there was no response, and the National Land錬成陣 [National Land錬成陣 (Rensei陣): A large-scale magic circle], already having sucked the blood of hundreds of millions of lives, strongly bound my soul.

Hovering in the air, I was helplessly dragged down to the ground.

The destination was my embalmed corpse, placed upon the hideous skull throne.

If I went in there, I would become a god of a pseudo-religion, forever ruling over a chaotic world.

Failedfailedfailedfailedfailedfailedfailedfailedfailedfailedfailed

This life was meaningless….

* * *

…Ah, no!

I was startled awake and lifted my head.

“Your Majesty, are you alright?”

I flinched at the sight of those rushing towards me in alarm.

Thankfully, they were my normal-looking officials, not those end-of-the-century scholar-officials with torn sleeves.

‘Whew, it was a dream.’

I must have dozed off for a moment.

I couldn’t sleep a wink last night, with the operation about to commence.

‘Damn it, what a messed up dream to have.’

The reason this dream was even more eerie was because of its realism.

Well, the scholar-officials chanting for the Blood Demon’s resurrection and the blood-drawn術法 [Sulbeop: A technique or method, often implying a mystical or supernatural process] were probably just my delusions.

But the future where they’re just spraying poison gas everywhere doesn’t seem particularly unrealistic.

If the enemy doesn’t have the capacity to wage chemical warfare, they might really go on a rampage without any risk.

Just like in that nightmare where the Central Plains all turned into gas chambers and wastelands.

In such a world, there’s no guarantee that Joseon people would be safe either.

What if the Later Three Kingdoms period [a period of intense warfare and political upheaval in Korean history] opened up once more in this history that I’ve changed?

Wouldn’t they be firing these weapons at each other then?

Or what if the secrets of the 制法 [Jaebeop: Manufacturing method] were leaked to the enemy?

A future where they unhesitatingly use ABC weapons [atomic, biological, and chemical weapons] to annihilate the opponent.

I had glimpsed into that future, which wasn’t a far-fetched possibility.

‘Right, I saw it in a collection of world literature when I was young.’

Just like the Christmas ghost showed Scrooge a terrible future, wasn’t this dream a kind of warning?

If I think about it simply, it’s just an illusion created by the last bit of my remaining conscience, but still, nothing really changes.

I looked around at my officials.

They all seemed quite shocked and impressed by the use of chlorine.

Kim Jong-seo, in particular, was staring at me with burning eyes.

Just by looking at him, I could tell he was plotting to produce even more chlorine and drop it all on the Ming army blocking our path.

It’s not that Kim Jong-seo is a particularly evil human being.

It’s just that they’ve already gotten so much out of it even when the means of delivery were limited and the actual damage was minimal, so it would be strange for anyone to say not to use it.

‘Now that it’s come to this, I have no choice but to take responsibility.’

The other officials were the same. They exchanged glances and then offered me their congratulations.

“Your Majesty, the enemy has abandoned their fortress and fled. It is truly a great victory.”

“Congratulations!”

“Ah!”

I didn’t respond and suddenly covered my face with my sleeve.

“Your Majesty, what is wrong?”

The officials were flustered and looked at me, asking.

With my eyes moist, I said in a somber tone.

“We won the battle by using poison mist, but we took too many lives. If Heaven has any strictness, will I truly be able to enjoy my natural lifespan?”

At my words, the officials hurriedly prostrated themselves in alarm.

“What are you saying, Your Majesty!”

“You have only punished the wicked, so how could Heaven punish Your Majesty? Please, take back your words!”

‘I know, you guys.’

If there were such a thing as karma, Yi Seong-gye would have been struck by lightning when he made the Wangs prepare for submersion.

This is a warning to the Joseon generals here.

The king himself is talking about his own lifespan and lamenting that using poison gas is something that will be punished by heaven, so there won’t be anyone who will say let’s use it diligently and a lot from now on.

At least they’ll think about it one more time before using it, right?

‘Even I think it’s disgustingly hypocritical.’

Another reason I said these words was for the sake of my children and grandchildren who would be born in Hanyang.

I know there’s no such thing as karma, but if the misfortune were to go to them, I’d rather take it all on myself.

‘Now that I’ve made them use something like this, I have to see it through to the end.’

Unlike Zhuge Liang, who shortened his lifespan and begged for one more coin, I wasn’t going to leave any future troubles behind with this war.

“All troops, advance.”

The destination was known to everyone.

It was Shanhaiguan.

* * *

The history of chemical warfare is quite old.

Since ancient times, burning sulfur to send its smoke flying or scattering ash or lime to harass the enemy was a time-honored tactic.

However, this was only focused on irritating the enemy’s eyes and breathing, with low lethality and a limited range.

Therefore, when Jang Bo and the Ming commanders first heard about the Joseon army’s poison mist, they thought it was either deserters spreading lies or some kind of misunderstanding.

Poison is not easy to spread, and in the first place, it is difficult to scrape together enough to pour out in large quantities.

However, after capturing those who had survived being hit by chlorine, even in small numbers, and fleeing, Jang Bo’s thoughts were shattered.

‘What on earth has Joseon created?’

Looking at their melting skin, even those hardened by war couldn’t help but be taken aback.

“This wound, it was caused simply by touching the poison mist that the Joseon army poured into the camp?”

“Y-yes….”

The voice of the terrified deserter trembled.

‘No wonder the army collapsed without a fight.’

He himself couldn’t even fathom what kind of trickery it was, so what could the soldiers say?

Even if they were deserters, they wouldn’t know much about the poison mist, so the information he revealed soon ran out.

Jang Bo said coldly.

“They deserted without orders, so they must be executed. Drag them away and behead them.”

“General, what are you saying!”

The deserter was greatly surprised and shouted.

He had known all along that desertion in the face of the enemy was punishable by beheading, but wasn’t the poison mist that the Joseon army was spreading an opponent that they couldn’t even fight?

If he had remained in the camp, he would have simply died like his other comrades.

“General, please spare me!”

However, Jang Bo only gave a stern command.

“What are you doing? Drag them away quickly!”

‘If I were to consider all these circumstances, the military discipline would be shaken.’

Moreover, considering the words that the man would spread if he returned to the camp and the terrible rumors that would spread upon seeing his disfigured wounds, it was a natural measure.

However, despite Jang Bo’s measures, he could not stop the Ming army from fleeing in disarray.

Once the battle lines collapse, it is difficult to recover.

Even if the cause is removed, the confusion that has already occurred creates even greater confusion.

Perhaps most of the soldiers fleeing now are simply running away without knowing what is happening in front.

“Yellow smoke spread and killed our soldiers indiscriminately!”

“The blue sky dies and the yellow sky comes, it was true!”

It seems to have come about a thousand years late, but such minor time differences were not important.

The rumors spreading among the soldiers grew uncontrollably.

It was only natural, as even the Ming army command was seized by fear.

“General, we must retreat! If the enemy pours out another round of poison mist like this, we will no longer be able to salvage the army!”

Joseon had already used up all the chlorine they had produced in one投發 [Tu Fa: A single deployment or release of something], but from the Ming army’s point of view, they had no way of knowing.

Jang Bo also sensed that it was no longer possible to salvage the army.

“Where should we go?”

However, even before asking, he already knew the answer.

“Their poison mist cannot cross the high walls of Shanhaiguan. Let us go to Shanhaiguan.”

“…….”

Jang Bo was not sure if his head would still be attached to his body by the time this war was over.

* * *

The Xuande Emperor suddenly suspected that Jang Bo had read too much Romance of the Three Kingdoms [a famous Chinese historical novel filled with dramatic battles and strategic intrigue] and gone crazy.

Everyone died when Joseon released yellow poison mist?

The Joseon army is advancing wearing yellow cloths, as if they were matching the color of the smoke?

“Or is Joseon the one who’s gone crazy?”

Could it be that the King of Joseon suddenly went crazy and started believing in Taiping Taoism [a Chinese religious movement that led to the Yellow Turban Rebellion]?

Whichever side had gone crazy, one thing was certain.

It was that he felt like he would go crazy soon.

At least the Joseon troops, who had become 15th-century Yellow Turbans, were winning, but Jang Bo had retreated to Shanhaiguan without even putting up a proper resistance.

Even then, the morale of Shanhaiguan was plummeting, relying solely on the thick walls.

“The King of Joseon is skilled in both medicine and poison, so the Joseon people regard him as the reincarnation of Shennong [a legendary Chinese ruler and deity known for his knowledge of agriculture and medicine].”

“The Joseon army’s poison mist is yellow, and yellow is the color of the center, so it is a sign that the King of Joseon will ascend Mount Tai and become the Son of Heaven [the emperor, who is believed to be divinely appointed].”

“Heaven’s mandate is already in the east, so what’s the point of fighting any further?”

The Xuande Emperor let out a hollow laugh.

Is it even reasonable to interpret the fact that Joseon is handling yellow smoke as a sign that Heaven’s mandate is there?

However, the measures that the elites of Beijing came up with after putting their heads together were also at a similar level.

“We need to block Joseon’s poison mist, so let’s have our troops wear blue cloths on their faces?”

“Yes, Your Majesty. The Joseon army wears yellow cloths because they worship the color yellow.”

“However, according to the Five Elements [a Chinese philosophical concept describing the interactions and relationships between different elements], wood overcomes earth, so it would be good for our army to suppress the yellow color, which symbolizes earth, with the blue color, which symbolizes wood.”

Even though it didn’t make sense, it was difficult for those who didn’t know what the poison mist was or how to detoxify it to come up with any better measures.

Thus, the Ming Dynasty’s poison gas prevention measures unfolded on a truly continental scale.

Unlike yellow, which is easy to obtain in everyday life(?), dyeing the cloth blue requires the use of dyes.

In order to create the blue cloths to be supplied to the Ming army at Shanhaiguan, all the dyes in Beijing were requisitioned, and the women were put to work weaving.

The winnowing machines [a device used to separate grain from chaff] used in farming and the fans in the houses were also scraped together and sent to Shanhaiguan.

However, it was truly uncertain how effective these things would be against the Joseon army’s poison mist.

It was just something they did because they had to come up with some kind of countermeasure.

It would be fortunate if these measures could at least boost the morale of the soldiers.

“We do not know how far their poison mist will spread.”

“Shouldn’t the Emperor라도 [Rado: Even] return to Nanjing?”

At the ministers’ request to return to the capital, the Xuande Emperor nodded with difficulty.