BW C186

Chapter 186

The shikgoe twitched—as if it had actually understood Taemuk’s words—then shrieked,

“Kiiieeeeeek!”

and snapped its jaws straight at him.

Taemuk kicked the creature squarely in the jaw.

“If you’re not dead, then say you’re not dead, you little bastard. You scared me.”

The heavy blow shattered its teeth like breaking icicles, splintering apart with a sharp crack. The shikgoe collapsed again, then slowly began to shake its head side to side, as though the world were spinning.

Watching this, Taemuk called out into the air,

“Dongja.”

“Yes, Commander!”

Dongja—who had been finishing off any remaining shikgoe by viciously spearing their skulls—ran over immediately. Mansu followed, pulling something from his arms as he went.

In the meantime, Taemuk grabbed the shikgoe with one hand and flipped it over. It tried to rise, but Taemuk crushed the back of its head under his heel, forcing its face into the ground. Its limbs flailed like a fish just hauled onto dry land.

When Dongja arrived, Mansu handed her an arrow. Gripping it tightly, she moved to drive it into the shikgoe’s neck—

“Easy! Easy! Don’t kill it!”

Mansu smacked Dongja’s muscular arm repeatedly.

“Huh? Oh—okay.”

Relaxing her grip, Dongja pushed the arrow into the back of the shikgoe’s neck. Mansu then tied something to the end of the arrow shaft.

A rope, connected to three metal bowls of varying sizes.

It was a failsafe—so if the shikgoe escaped, the bowls would scrape across the snow and clatter together, leaving both sound and tracks for Taemuk to follow.

“Good job, Dongja. Now go.”

Taemuk jerked his chin backward. Dongja and Mansu nodded and sprinted away. One by one, the other soldiers also withdrew.

Left alone with the shikgoe, Taemuk looked down at it for a moment—then suddenly stomped hard between its knee and thigh.

Crack.

Bone shattered. Jagged fragments pierced through the tough black skin.

“KIIIEEEEEEEEK!”

The shikgoe screamed and thrashed wildly. Taemuk examined its leg, debating whether to break it further.

It couldn’t be allowed to run too fast.

The shikgoe’s legs resembled a wolf’s hind legs, built for speed—once they sprinted at full power, they were hard to catch. After all the trouble it had taken to capture a leader, losing it now would be infuriating.

At that moment, Gilsang extended a hand toward Hoeun.

“Sir. Let’s go.”

“Yes.”

Hoeun took his hand and stood. They needed to leave quickly—more shikgoe could arrive at any moment.

Soon, Hoeun and the others mounted their horses. Before long, every soldier except Taemuk was ready to depart.

Taemuk scanned the area, checking his troops’ condition. He met Dongja’s gaze at the front, gave a short nod, then stepped off the shikgoe’s back.

“Kah—kaaak—kiek!”

The creature thrashed on the blood-soaked ground, then suddenly sprang upright. One leg was completely shattered, yet it still managed to stand—both impressive and grotesque.

“KAAAH! KAAAARGH!”

It roared at Taemuk, baring its ruined teeth.

Taemuk met its gaze and said clearly,

“Run.

Run away.

All the way back to your home.”

For a moment, the shikgoe didn’t move. It gnawed the air, eyes flicking between Taemuk and the scattered corpses around them—then staggered backward.

“……”

Holding his breath, Hoeun watched.

Please.

Run.

Guide us.

Take us to your nest.

Then—the shikgoe bolted.

It ran on all fours, tearing through blood-soaked snow like an animal. The bowls tied to its neck clanged together—clatter, clang, screech—as it fled.

“After it!”

Dongja and the advance unit spurred their horses immediately.

“Commander!”

Byeonguk rode up, shouting. Taemuk vaulted onto the horse without breaking stride and chased after the others. Hoeun followed close behind. Through the dense forest ahead, the shikgoe’s dark shape flickered in and out of sight.

“……”

Gripping the reins, Hoeun felt his heart racing.

Before, it had been fear.

Now—it was anticipation.

All they had to do was follow.

They would find the shikgoe’s base.

They would destroy the source.

And then—these long, blood-soaked days would finally end.

A world where people could live freely.

Where no one lost their home.

Where no one was miserable.

Where no one died.

Beyond the fleeing shikgoe, dawn began to break. Bathed in golden light, Hoeun saw hope.

The objective of this mission was simple: locate the nest.

Just its location.

They hadn’t planned to attack it—hadn’t even considered it possible. Who knew whether there were thousands, tens of thousands of shikgoe waiting there?

The plan was to observe from afar, gather information, then return and plan properly.

But the shikgoe didn’t stop.

They ran all day—across plains of snow, through dense forests—with no suspicious landmarks in sight. When night fell and they were still running, doubt crept in.

Is it really heading home?

Or is it just fleeing in blind terror?

There was no way to know.

And then another problem emerged.

Kuurrrrrrrrumble.

Thunder had been growling for some time now. Unable to ignore the sound, Hoeun looked up.

The clouds were wrong.

Just as days were growing longer with the onset of Lichun, dark clouds silently swallowed the sun. The world dimmed as if it were midnight.

The air grew thick with the smell of rain. Thunder followed them, relentless—like they were now the ones being chased.

Hoeun understood instantly.

A storm.

A vicious one.

A bad omen. Rain was worse than snow—it weighed everyone down, slowed them, and deepened the cold. With no idea how far they still had to go, a downpour would be disastrous.

Then—

Kuurrrrum.

Another thunderclap.

Unable to look away, Hoeun suddenly found his view blocked—the unit had entered a forest. Towering fir trees rose all around them, each more than ten times his height, their branches interlocking overhead. The air filled with the sharp, clean scent of pine.

Maybe the trees will block the rain—

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Cold drops struck his face.

“Sir. The rain’s cold. Put your cloak on.”

Gilsang called from beside him.

“Oh—yes.”

Hoeun pulled the Red Rain cloak over his head. Slowing down briefly, he fell toward the rear of the group as others thundered past.

Still—he wasn’t afraid.

Gilsang and Seongim were with him. And if he hurried, he could catch up easily. The shikgoe had slowed, after all.

He urged his horse forward.

By then, the drizzle had become a downpour.

Shaaahhh—

Rain crashed down violently. Thunder split the sky. Hooves pounded wet earth. The chaos of sound was overwhelming.

Snow melted into mud. Darkness deepened rapidly.

There was only rain to hear—and darkness to see.

And because of that, Taemuk could no longer use his ability.

“……”

Hoeun knew.

They wouldn’t find the nest today.

He stretched his neck, searching for Taemuk. Up ahead, barely visible in the gloom, Taemuk led the charge. Byeonguk and Dongja rode close at his sides, their heads turned toward him in discussion.

The weather had forced a change of plans.