Samujin held a torch in his hand as he rode in a small boat, personally escorting the "windmill," preventing it from getting stuck on some beach or river bend.
Indeed, one needs a bit of imagination to conduct warfare, and Samujin had more imagination than everyone else combined.
He disassembled the sails of an upstream watermill windmill, then disassembled the stone base, coated it with pitch, and pushed it directly into the river, carried by four small boats.
Like a massive warship, the windmill was thus brought before the floating bridge, where the river's chains and interception piles seemed like dwarf's toys before it.
"Go!" Samujin lit the torch and, laughing wildly, hurled it at the windmill: "Go send my regards to those monkey-ass faces!"
In an instant, the pitch-coated windmill turned into a ball of fire.
The warriors steering the small boats cut the ropes, and the windmill, completely free from its restraints, crashed into the downstream floating bridge.
