Chương 342: Chapter 349. The Victory Banquet

By the time Youngwoo reached the Balhae section, his body tilted to one side. The alcohol had hit him all at once. After spending the entire day riding through blood and dust, there was little chance his body could withstand dozens of cups of wine. Youngwoo tried to raise his head, but his eyes had already gone unfocused and his feet could no longer find their place. Go Youngchang hurried forward and caught him. Youngwoo's armored body sagged against him.

The man who had only moments ago carved through the Liao center and charged toward the emperor's banner was now half leaning in Go Youngchang's arms. When Youngwoo's head fell backward, Go Youngchang supported the back of his neck with one hand.

"Commander Yi has had far too much to drink." Go Hoewon clicked his tongue at the sight. He had already prepared a cup to offer Youngwoo himself.

"He collapsed before it even became our turn." Go Youngchang gave a wry smile.

"Today is not our only chance. We can offer him a drink tomorrow." At that moment, the So Cheolryong brothers and Do Gyeongtaek approached from behind Go Youngchang. So Cheolryong looked at Youngwoo with concern, while Do Gyeongtaek immediately reached out.

"We will take care of him." Go Hoewon asked,"He is your commanding officer, is he not?" Do Gyeongtaek answered respectfully.

"Yes. He drank far too much today. From his master's table to this point, I believe he has been offered several dozen cups." Go Youngchang nodded.

"Everyone wanted to offer Commander Yi a drink. He accepted every single one without refusing." Supporting Youngwoo's arm, Do Gyeongtaek said,"He probably considered it a duty. He must have thought that refusing a cup today would be discourteous." Go Hoewon chuckled softly.

"So he accepted all those cups as a matter of courtesy. What a troublesome man." Do Gyeongtaek bowed.

"We will apologize first tomorrow for any discourtesy tonight." Go Youngchang carefully handed the limp Youngwoo over to them. So Cheolryong supported one shoulder, while Do Gyeongtaek held him around the waist. So Cheolun followed behind, watching over him. On the battlefield, he had been a commander. If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. At the banquet, he had been a hero to whom countless men wished to offer a cup.

Now, he simply looked like a drunken comrade being carried away by his subordinates. Go Youngchang said briefly,"Take good care of him." So Cheolryong bowed.

"Do not worry. We will." With his eyes half closed, Youngwoo muttered,"Balhae… I didn't… get your cup…" Go Hoewon burst out laughing. Only then did Okjeong relax, the corner of her mouth lifting slightly.

"Take it tomorrow, Commander Yi. Our cup is not going anywhere." Youngwoo gave no answer. His head simply dropped. As the So Cheolryong brothers helped him away, the Balhae soldiers quietly opened a path. Even after they had passed, Go Hoewon watched Youngwoo's back for a long time. The man seemed to put his whole heart into everything. Into fighting. Into courtesy. Even into collapsing. Youngwoo was carried back to his own tent and laid on a simple cot.

"Good grief, why did you drink so much!" Even So Cheolryong's scolding failed to rouse him. He did not seem to hear it. When they loosened the straps of the armor constricting his body, Youngwoo drew in a great breath like a man who had returned from the threshold of death. The iron plates pressing against his chest gradually spread apart, and cold winter air slipped through the sweat- and blood-soaked clothes beneath.

"Haaah… whew…" A long breath escaped him. Only a short while ago, he had been tearing across the battlefield and making the rounds of the banquet, accepting cup after cup. Now he was simply one body lying there with his eyes closed. So Cheolryong looked down at him and pressed his lips together. Once, they had been comrades who stood shoulder to shoulder. Now Youngwoo carried burdens far greater than before. In the beginning, they had eaten from the same pot and rolled through the dirt together.

Somewhere along the way, Youngwoo had risen to a place that So Cheolryong could no longer casually approach. Yet rather than feeling hurt that Youngwoo had grown distant, his first thought was how much the man must have endured to reach such a place. Now Youngwoo led armies through the heart of great battles and exchanged cups alongside the commanders of Goryeo and Jin. The Great Khan had praised his achievements before everyone. Commanders had come one after another to strike his shoulder and honor him.

So Cheolryong was proud of him. And that pride only made him feel more sorry for him. Yet when he looked at the sleeping face, it was still the same Youngwoo he had always known. The man who forced himself to smile. Who accepted every cup placed before him. Who looked after work before looking after his own body. An ache rose inside So Cheolryong for no particular reason. Youngwoo had always taken on even the tasks others tried to avoid. Whenever something had to be done, he was the first to shoulder it.

When others hesitated and stepped back, Youngwoo moved forward. He opened the road, accepted responsibility, and endured to the end. That was probably how he had reached this place today. But his body and mind had been worn down by every step of the way. And yet, had he done otherwise, no one would have noticed. No one else would have carried those burdens for him. Youngwoo had always stood in that space. Taking on work he could have left alone. And once he took it on, seeing it through to the end.

Do Gyeongtaek carefully wiped Youngwoo's neck and hands with a damp cloth. The smells of blood and alcohol had soaked deep into the exhaustion already clinging to him. So Cheolun leaned Youngwoo's spear and long banner against one side of the tent, then neatly gathered the loosened straps and armor plates. So Cheolryong brought over a thick fur hide and spread it across Youngwoo's body. He pressed it down carefully over his shoulders, chest, and waist so that no gap remained.

Outside the tent, hoofbeats and voices could still be heard. Wagons carrying spoils passed by. Soldiers guarding prisoners exchanged low commands. Even the laughter from the victory banquet drifted faintly on the wind. Inside the small tent, however, time seemed to move differently. The uproar of victory remained outside. Within, there was only the breathing of an exhausted man. So Cheolryong closed the gaps in the tent one by one. Wherever the wind entered, he pulled the cloth tight and tied it.

He drove loose stakes back into the ground. At the entrance, he overlapped the fur covering twice. With his fingertips, he searched for every remaining gap so that the cold wind would not reach Youngwoo's damp body. Youngwoo murmured faintly in his sleep.

"The ledger… dry the wet silk first…" So Cheolryong gave a quiet laugh. It sounded half like laughter and half like a sigh.

"I know. Dry the wet silk first. Count the horses, count the armor, tend the wounded. We'll do all of it. So sleep now." Youngwoo's breathing gradually became steadier. Only then did So Cheolryong sit down at one side of the tent. He leaned his back against a support post and watched Youngwoo sleep. On the battlefield, Youngwoo had always stood farther forward than anyone else. In sleep, he was this quiet. That made the sight even harder to bear. The two men took turns keeping watch.

Not far away, the lights of the victory banquet burned brightly. Perhaps the celebrations would continue for several days. Tomorrow would be even busier.