BW C204

Chapter 204

Taemuk became the leader almost by accident, but he took his role rather seriously.

Perhaps… he was even a little excited.

Even if it wasn’t an officially registered unit, he was still the head of a group leading many people.

Taemuk always took the lead in action, did his utmost to save others, and tried to make the right decisions.

And so, with Taemuk at the forefront, Jeokudae killed many Shikgoe and saved many people. Naturally, word of them began to spread here and there, and sometimes people even came looking for them, saying they wanted to enlist.

Despite being a hastily formed unit, it seemed to be running quite well, contrary to expectations.

However, problems didn’t take long to arise.

Because they were not an officially registered unit, they couldn’t receive supplies—meaning rations. Not only were provisions impossible, but even acquiring weapons was out of the question.

They tried to register the unit, but it was impossible. There were more than ten reasons: there were no nobles, no proper ranks, no connections, no way to prove their achievements, and so on.

Even so, they somehow managed to scrape by.

They hunted animals to eat, or received barley, vegetables, fruits, and the like as tokens of gratitude from those they had saved.

But in winter, even that became difficult. Everyone was struggling just to survive, so even those whose lives had been saved had nothing left to give.

As winter reached its peak, the snow fell more heavily, and the cold grew so harsh it was enough to make one resent it.

The soldiers, starving, grew gaunt. Their noses and cheeks swelled red from frostbite, and it was not uncommon for fingers or toes to simply fall off. Medicine had long since run out, and the injured died without treatment. Meanwhile, the clothes they wore and their tents began to wear thin and tear apart.

Taemuk could save his soldiers from Shikgoe.

But he could not save them from hunger.

Hunger drove people to desperation. Some, as if they wanted to become Shikgoe themselves, tried to eat the bodies of the dead. Others scooped up clumps of dirt and snow stuck together like rice cakes and shoved them into their mouths. And some simply clutched their starving bellies and withered away to death.

Around that time, the Lieutenant began coughing up bright red blood onto the pure white snow.

“Eat some porridge.”

Taemuk entered the Lieutenant’s tent and set down a bowl in front of him.

Inside the old bowl was something hardly worthy of being called porridge. It was nothing more than potatoes boiled in plain water until they fell apart. Even that had only yielded three or four bowls, and Taemuk had been given one full bowl simply because he was the leader.

“You… you eat it. I’m fine.”

The Lieutenant, his cheeks sunken, waved his thin hand weakly.

“The hell do you mean you’re fine? Eat.”

Though he spoke irritably, Taemuk carefully helped the Lieutenant sit up. The man, who had barely managed to sit, held a spoon in his hand but did not eat. Instead, he stared blankly at the snow pouring through the torn tent, his cracked lips parting.

“It was around this time, wasn’t it?”

“What?”

“When I met you as a child. Do you remember?”

“…….”

At the sudden remark, Taemuk’s movements froze completely. The memory he had pressed down and buried deep inside suddenly surged up to the surface.

At the same time, a chill ran down his spine. It was strange—he hadn’t felt cold since becoming a Military God. Yet now, he felt it. That meant the memory itself must have been that cold.

For a moment, it felt as though a silk ribbon had scraped across his vision, and Taemuk rubbed his eyes roughly.

But whether he noticed or not—or whether he simply had something he needed to say—the Lieutenant continued, his voice weak.

“Sometimes I think… I shouldn’t have cut your arm back then. If I hadn’t… maybe your life wouldn’t have been so drenched in blood.”

He coughed again, and blood stained his lower lip. He wiped it roughly with his worn sleeve.

“…What’s the point of talking about that now? Just eat.”

Taemuk pushed the bowl toward him. But the Lieutenant still didn’t look at the food. Instead, he looked at Taemuk’s face.

At the boy who, despite being torn apart and dying countless times on the battlefield, had not yet even reached twenty.

“…Should I apologize?”

“…….”

“For what I did to you when you were young—”

“Ah, fuck! Why do you keep bringing that up? Eat it or don’t—do whatever you want.”

Taemuk shouted and stood abruptly, trying to leave the tent. At that moment, the Lieutenant called out to his back.

“Taemuk.”

“…….”

“I’m sorry.”

“…….”

“For dragging you into this battlefield.”

Taemuk clenched his teeth so hard the muscles in his jaw bulged. The hand holding up the tent flap tightened, veins rising along the back of his hand.

A strange emotion stirred within him. He felt anger, but also sadness. Thoughts of his parents surged up, filling him with resentment—and yet, there was fear too.

“Still… the fact that you’re a Military God… is a great blessing to this country.”

At those words, Taemuk let out a hollow laugh. He turned his head slightly and shot the Lieutenant a look.

“That country crap again… Just eat your food.”

“…Yeah.”

The Lieutenant nodded, then coughed again before finally beginning to eat the porridge. His hand trembled as he held the bowl, making him look unsteady enough that Taemuk almost stepped back inside the tent.

At that moment—

“Kiiieeeek!”

From far away came the cry of a Shikgoe. Faintly, human screams followed. Taemuk’s eyes sharpened instantly.

“I’ll be back. Stay here.”

With that, he ran across the white snowfield without waiting for a reply.

And that day—

On a battlefield where snow and blood fell together, Taemuk saved the King—no, the Emperor of the Great Han Empire.

“Leader of Jeokudae, Lee Taemuk, receive His Majesty’s decree.”

Despite the solemn voice, Taemuk stood blankly in place. Seeing this, Byeonguk whispered for him to kneel. Taemuk awkwardly lowered himself to his knees, and when he was told to bow his head, he did so as well.

The posture felt uncomfortable. More than anything, what made him uneasy were the officials in formal robes. Even their neatly groomed beards set them apart from any nobles Taemuk had seen before.

They were… real nobles.

Meanwhile, the murmurs of Jeokudae soldiers gathered at a distance reached his ears clearly.

“How did the King end up there?”

“They say he was returning from Yeosu or Busan or somewhere.”

“That seaside place? Why would he go there?”

“Probably to meet someone.”

“In times like this, who would the King personally go all the way to Yeosu to meet? Maybe Admiral Yi Sun-sin?”

“…Is Admiral Yi Sun-sin still alive?”

“…Should we just let that idiot get eaten by a Shikgoe?”

“Shh, quiet. This is an honorable moment.”

With that, the official’s voice grew deeper and more solemn as he began reading the decree.

“You did not fear the ferocious fangs of the calamities raging in all directions, and risked your life to save Us. Such loyalty moves even the heavens. Therefore, We commend your merit and appoint you to the rank of Jeongryeong, of the Third Rank.”

At those words, the Jeokudae soldiers began whispering again.

“Jeongryeong? What’s that?”

“Colonel.”

“What? Colonel? Let’s see… Private, Private First Class, Corporal, Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, Sergeant First Class, Second Lieutenant, First Lieutenant, Captain… then Major, Lieutenant Colonel… and then Colonel.”

“Damn, that’s high? So the boss skipped all those ranks and became a Colonel in one go?”

“I heard even the King knew about Jeokudae.”

“Well, of course. Have we killed a few Shikgoe? Saved a few people?”

“Did you do that? No, our leader did everything.”

“Anyway, looks like they’re giving him all the rewards he should’ve gotten at once.”

Taemuk listened to both the soldiers’ chatter and the official’s voice without any expression. Snowflakes settled on the back of his neck, but melted almost instantly.

“I’m back.”

Clutching the Colonel’s insignia tightly, Taemuk entered the Lieutenant’s tent. He sat down with his back to the man lying on his side and slowly opened his hand.

The insignia, bearing the Taeguk symbol at its center, was clean, bright, and clear. It wasn’t something passed down from someone else—it had been newly made for Taemuk.

“Ajeossi. You heard, right? I became a Colonel. The King himself appointed me.”

“…….”

“We’re a real unit now. A proper Imperial unit of the Great Han Empire.”

“…….”

“They’ll give us new weapons and uniforms, and rations too. Everyone’s become real soldiers now. Ah, and they said they’ll even pay us. Isn’t that crazy? If we get paid every time we kill a Shikgoe, I’ll become filthy rich.”

“…….”

“But how high is Colonel, anyway? That pig bastard who died before—wasn’t he a Colonel?”

“…….”

“…Thinking about that bastard, maybe it’s not that high after all…”

“…….”

“No, wait. He was a noble, right? So does that mean I’ve reached the same level as a noble? No—since the King himself appointed me, doesn’t that make me even higher?”

At that, Taemuk chuckled softly. The corners of his eyes curved slightly, revealing a faint trace of youth.

He carefully ran his fingers over the stars embedded in the insignia, then held it out toward the Lieutenant.

“Ajeossi. Look at this. There are six stars.”

“…….”

“Ajeossi, why aren’t you answering?”

“…….”

“Ajeossi?”

No matter how many times he called, the Lieutenant did not respond.

“…Ajeossi.”

Only then did Taemuk realize.

While he had been talking all that time—

the Lieutenant had not coughed even once.

That day—

as snow like clumps of cotton fell endlessly—

Taemuk turned twenty,

Jeokudae became a real unit,

and the Lieutenant died.