Chapter 227

“Haa…”

Hoeun jolted upright and blinked slowly.

His whole body was drenched in cold sweat.

At the same time, he felt freezing cold.

As he absentmindedly wiped his face, he heard the sound of fabric fluttering.

When he looked up, he saw the tent walls around him shaking in the wind.

Only after staring for a long while did Hoeun realize he was inside the military tent.

And that the Jeokudae flag soaring into the sky earlier had only been a dream.

Still, anxiety lingered.

It felt like there had to be a reason he saw such a dream.

Because he was Taemuk’s Iin(Guide)—his partner bound by heaven—he feared perhaps he had sensed some impending disaster.

“No…”

Scrambling up, Hoeun rushed out of the tent without even putting on his shoes properly.

The moment he stepped outside, harsh sunlight stabbed at his eyes.

“Ugh…”

Covering his eyes with one arm, he staggered.

The fierce wind whipped his hair into disarray.

His thin inner robe fluttered wildly, exposing the outline of his slender body.

A scholar should never appear outside in such a state.

But he had no room to care about that now.

Shaking his head against the glare, Hoeun finally forced his vision into focus.

He saw Jeokudae soldiers moving busily all around.

Some carried weapons, wood, or shovels.

Others chopped trees or hammered nails.

Stumbling through them, Hoeun searched desperately for Taemuk.

He looked completely frantic.

Then a passing soldier spotted him and widened his eyes.

“Good heavens, young master! Even if it’s spring, coming out dressed this lightly will make you catch a cold. We’re by the river—the wind is freezing…”

Without hesitation, the soldier removed his cloak and draped it over Hoeun’s shoulders.

Hoeun immediately grabbed the soldier’s arm.

It was rude.

Normally, he would never do something like that.

But right now, nothing else mattered.

“Have you seen the General? Have you seen him?”

“The commander?”

“I need to see him… urgently…”

Mid-sentence, Hoeun swayed.

A wave of dizziness hit him.

He had spent the entire night thrashing in grief, fear, and terror inside that nightmare.

The exhaustion was crushing.

“Young master!”

The soldier shouted in alarm.

Hoeun tried to steady himself—

but his body gave out.

His knees slammed onto the ground.

The impact made his frail frame shake so violently it looked like he might break apart.

“Young master!”

“Oh no, young master!”

Other nearby soldiers rushed over.

They grabbed his wrists and elbows, trying to support him.

Hoeun weakly waved them away.

“I’m okay… really… just tell me where the General is…”

Then—

“Hoeun.”

The voice he had been desperately searching for.

Hoeun’s head snapped up.

Through the crowd of soldiers—

Taemuk stood there.

He must have rushed over from far away, because his hair was slightly disheveled.

His normally cold, sharp eyes held unmistakable worry.

He had probably heard the soldiers shouting for the young master.

At that instant, Hoeun’s face softened as though drenched in water.

“General…”

He whispered.

Taemuk crossed the distance in long strides.

The soldiers immediately let go and stepped back.

Taemuk took their place, firmly supporting Hoeun.

“What happened?”

“General…”

“Yes. What is it?”

Taemuk lowered his head to examine him.

Hoeun’s face was pale.

Cold sweat covered his skin.

Even at a glance, he looked terrible.

His lashes were damp.

The corners of his eyes were red.

Taemuk frowned.

“What’s this? Were you crying? Why? Are you hurt somewhere?”

Despite all the questions, Hoeun didn’t answer.

Instead, he reached up and touched Taemuk.

His arm.

His elbow.

His wrist.

His hand.

His trembling fingers traced over him again and again.

The military uniform under his palms felt familiar.

The solid body beneath it was exactly as he remembered.

And the scent reaching his nose first—

was unmistakably Taemuk’s.

It was really him.

His General.

Taemuk.

Alive.

Safe.

Perfectly alive.

Ah.

So it hadn’t been a prophetic dream.

Just a cruel nightmare.

The moment he realized that, the trembling in his body slowly eased.

And then—

like being struck by lightning—

Hoeun suddenly realized how ridiculous he must look.

And how many people were watching.

He inhaled sharply and sprang to his feet.

Quickly pushing his messy hair behind his ear, he bowed.

“I—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“For what?”

“No, it’s nothing. I’m fine.”

He stepped back.

But Taemuk grabbed his hand.

“What exactly is fine?”

“I’m really okay. Really. Don’t worry about me and continue your work. I’ll go change clothes… coming out like this…”

Hoeun fumbled over his words while adjusting his robe.

Only then did he notice the Jeokudae cloak still around his shoulders, and he hurriedly pulled it tighter around himself.

“……”

Taemuk stared at him silently.

Then he tightened his grip and pulled Hoeun closer.

“Come on. I’ll take you back.”

“……”

Hoeun didn’t refuse.

As they walked toward the tent, Hoeun kept adjusting his grip and stealing glances at Taemuk to reassure himself that he was truly there.

Taemuk, meanwhile, kept his usual unreadable expression and looked straight ahead.

Later—

“……”

Hoeun sat alone on the mountainside.

Normally, he would have wandered around looking for things to do, pestering soldiers with endless questions.

But today—

perhaps because he had exhausted himself so completely in his sleep—

he felt like doing nothing.

“……”

Hugging his knees, chin resting atop them, he stared blankly at the wide river below.

This Jeokudae camp was stationed on a high mountain near the Amnok River.

Any Sikgoe heading toward Hanyang would have to cross that river.

High ground made it easier to track enemy movements.

Below, hundreds of soldiers were digging.

Their strength was incredible.

They carved into the earth with relentless speed.

The trench was already absurdly deep—

several times Hoeun’s height.

And among them—

Taemuk was digging too.

Surely there wasn’t another general in the world who personally dug trenches with his soldiers.

Only Taemuk.

“……”

Hoeun watched him obsessively.

Even though the distance was too great to see his face clearly, he kept staring.

Sometimes his gaze drifted toward the horizon beyond the river.

Whenever it did, his chest tightened painfully.

He imagined countless Sikgoe swarming over that horizon like waves.

Last time, he had seen those terrifying fan-shaped ones.

What if even smarter and stronger ones existed?

Just thinking about it made a sigh rise in his chest.

But he pressed his lips tightly together and swallowed it.

What if Taemuk somehow heard him sigh and came running?

Of course—

with this distance, this wind, and the roaring river—

surely even Taemuk couldn’t hear that.

Still…

who knew?

Just as Hoeun alternated between Taemuk and the horizon—

“Young master, what are you doing?”

A familiar voice sounded behind him.

“Ah…”

It was Mansu.

After regaining consciousness earlier, Mansu had recovered quickly.

Now he could walk without support.

Still, he looked gaunt and pale.

Thick bandages wrapped around one arm.

Anyone could tell he was badly injured.

Hoeun quickly stood and bowed.

“Mansu hyung. How are you feeling?”

“Horribly painful.”

Mansu exaggerated a miserable face, dramatically pulling down his lips.

The silly expression almost made Hoeun laugh.

Mansu carefully made his way down the slope.

He was carrying a large bundle.

Seeing that, Hoeun moved to help.

But Mansu stopped him firmly.

“Stay there. I’ll come.”

“But…”

“What if you slip? You’ll scar that pretty face.”

“……”

At those words, Hoeun didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Even someone missing an arm still worried about him.

That embarrassed him deeply.

Especially after making such a scene earlier.

Mansu half-ran, half-slid down the grassy slope.

Then he dumped everything in front of Hoeun.

“Want to do this with me?”

Hoeun looked down.

Spread across the ground were objects larger than his body.

Wide and flat.

Shaped almost like flounders.

They were kites.

“Are these… kites?”

“Yep. Just need to paint them.”

Mansu dropped to the ground.

Then he opened the bundle tucked under his arm.

Inside were ink, dyes, scraps of cloth, and water skins.

“Ah, yes. I’ll help.”

Hoeun sat beside him.

Mansu placed a kite and dyes in front of him.

The two sat side by side overlooking the river, painting kites.

They mixed dyes with water.

Prepared ink.

Wrapped scraps of cloth into little pads and dipped them into pigment.

Then dabbed color onto the kites.

The work wasn’t difficult.

Hoeun slowly colored his kite.

Then he glanced at Mansu’s.

It was already halfway done.

Despite having only one arm, Mansu held the kite in place with both feet while skillfully applying dye with one hand.

His movements were rough, but surprisingly careful and meticulous.

And bold.

“Hyung, you’re really skilled with your hands.”

Hoeun said, clearly impressed.

Mansu grinned.

“Right?”

Then he said casually—

“Good thing it was my left arm that got torn off.”