BW C109

Chapter 109

 

It was neither too late nor too early in the night. Countless tents were spread out, and everyone was preparing to rest, yet Hoeun wandered restlessly between the tents. For some time, unable to calm himself, he suddenly stopped in front of one of the tents.

It was not Taemuk’s tent. Taemuk had disappeared into the woods as soon as they arrived at their resting place, likely to deal with nearby monsters.

Meanwhile, Hoeun had tended to the sleeping arrangements of Jeongyi, Jeongu, and the girls, chatted with them, gone to Taemuk’s tent to find him absent, and returned.

“Humph…”

Clearing his throat uselessly, Hoeun paced two steps to the left and then two steps to the right, his face filled with worry.

How should he begin? Should he just say it plainly? Would this be a great offense? What if he was rejected? No, being Taemuk’s Second, could he refuse? Or if he said he didn’t want to do it, wouldn’t that be worse?

Scratching his forehead anxiously, he finally groaned in frustration. Then, just as he decided, “Not tonight. Better not,” and turned away,

Flap.

The tent flap opened, and Seongim appeared. Unlike usual, her hair was loose and flowing. Judging by her casual attire rather than uniform, she had likely been about to sleep.

Seongim spotted Hoeun standing before the tent and raised her eyebrows in surprise, as if silently asking, “What are you doing here?”

Hoeun closed his eyes tightly in embarrassment, then timidly approached her.

“Uh, Seongim-nim…”

She tilted her head.

“Could we… talk for a moment?”

Seongim studied him quietly. Then, after nodding, followed him out.

Hoeun took exactly five steps — no more, no less. It was late at night, and being alone with a woman separated from the group wasn’t proper, or more specifically, not good for Seongim. Although she was strong and could easily overpower him, public perception was another matter altogether.

Having lived surrounded by countless rumors in Hanyang, Hoeun was sensitive to such things.

Stopped, he took a deep breath. The cold night air flooded deep into his lungs. After a few more breaths, he placed his hands neatly together below his abdomen and spoke cautiously.

“Um… I… I want to ask a favor.”

Seongim gave a small nod, signaling him to continue. Swallowing nervously, Hoeun ventured,

“Perhaps, um, the sword…”

But he couldn’t get any further; embarrassment, guilt, and an odd fear stalled him. He drew another deep breath, then looked firmly into Seongim’s eyes as he spoke.

“Could you teach me how to use a sword?”

“…”

“I think I ought to know how to handle at least one weapon…”

“…”

“That doesn’t mean I take the sword lightly. Both First Sergeant Oh and Seongim-nim are skilled with swords, so it seems good for me to learn from you both…”

Having said this, Hoeun lowered his eyes softly and awaited her response. But Seongim said nothing. Unable to reply, her silence felt like a refusal.

Hoeun pursed his lips awkwardly and smiled at her.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? Shall we talk about it again tomorrow? Or, if you prefer, just pretend you didn’t hear. I can ask someone else.”

As he spoke, he stepped back. But Seongim suddenly grabbed his sleeve sharply and began pulling him back toward the tent. Hoeun followed with a foolish expression.

Upon reaching the tent, she pushed the flap open silently. Inside, a soft lamp light revealed Gilsang.

He was in his underwear, bandaging his thigh.

“Uh… Young Master?”

Gilsang looked at Hoeun with a puzzled expression, and Hoeun quickly turned away. Though they were both men, it felt proper not to look directly. Meanwhile, Seongim left Hoeun and entered the tent.

After a short while, the tent flap moved again, and Gilsang emerged, now wearing his uniform and holding a sword.

“You want to learn swordsmanship?”

Surprised, Hoeun shook his head quickly.

“Ah… no, no. I just mentioned it to Seongim-nim.”

“I’ll teach you. I taught Seongim, too.”

“Really?”

For a moment, Hoeun’s face lit up like the moon. He took an involuntary step toward Gilsang, then immediately stepped back.

“Uh… shall we start tomorrow or the day after?”

“Sure.”

“You haven’t fully healed your thigh yet.”

Hoeun glanced at Gilsang’s leg, not wanting to be a nuisance to an injured man. Gilsang chuckled softly.

“I won’t be doing much moving. Learning to hold a sword properly can take anywhere from a few days to several months.”

“Several months?”

“That’s not because you’re the Young Master. It’s the same for everyone. I took months, so did Seongim.”

“Ah…”

Hoeun sighed quietly, feeling heavy-hearted. Though he had never expected to match skills with Gilsang or Seongim instantly, learning to hold a sword correctly taking months was discouraging. He wished to contribute his share as soon as possible.

“I guess I’ll need to get a sword first. Mine is a bit too heavy for you.”

“A sword? You don’t have one?”

Hoeun’s eyes widened, then closed tight in embarrassment. He had declared that he would learn swordsmanship but hadn’t even brought a sword. How foolish he was! Pressing his hand against his forehead, he exhaled deeply.

Gilsang stroked his chin in thought, then nodded toward the forest.

“Hmm… you won’t need one today. A sturdy branch will do. Just follow me.”

“Uh? Ah, yes.”

Hoeun hurried after him, but barely took a step before a rustling sound came from behind.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

A low, deep voice softly tickled Hoeun’s ear, hot breath accompanying the words.

“Ahk…”

Startled, Hoeun clapped a hand over his ear and turned around. There stood Taemuk, leaning askew with one hand in his pocket. Gilsang bowed to him.

“The Captain has arrived. The Young Master wants to learn swordsmanship—”

“No! No!”

Hoeun urgently interrupted Gilsang’s words.

“……”

Gilsang’s eyes widened, surprised. Hoeun waved his hands emphatically, pleading silently not to let Taemuk know. He didn’t want to invite ridicule—or, worse, for Taemuk to insist on teaching him himself.

The thought of Taemuk as his master was unbearable. The thought of tears every time he was scolded was too much.

Sadly,

“You want to learn swordsmanship? You?!”

Taemuk had clearly overheard Gilsang already.

“Well…”

Hoeun turned awkwardly toward Taemuk with a face full of embarrassment. Before he could say more, Taemuk frowned deeply.

“Why would you learn from Gilsang?”

“Oh, initially I planned to learn from Seongim-nim, but since she said the First Sergeant taught her—and he taught her—so I just… I won’t learn after all. Sorry, Sergeant.”

Stammering, Hoeun shook his head, washed his face briskly, then bowed to Gilsang in apology.

“……”

Gilsang blinked slowly, a look as if saying, I don’t understand what’s going on. Hoeun bowed deeply, ashamed.

Taemuk looked at the two displeasedly, then nodded toward Gilsang and said,

“I’ll handle it. You go.”

“…Yes. Understood. Call if you need me.”

Gilsang nodded, saluted Taemuk and then Hoeun, and left.

“Sergeant, I’m sorry. Truly sorry.”

Hoeun kept apologizing as Gilsang walked away. He felt guilty for calling on an injured man at such a late hour and causing him fruitless trouble. Gilsang surely cursed him in his mind, but there was nothing Hoeun could say to protest.

Left alone with Taemuk, who folded his arms and stared down at Hoeun with a crooked gaze,

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Yes?”

“Why did you try to learn swordsmanship from Gilsang instead of me? Do I look like I can’t use a sword?”

“No, no.”

Hoeun shook his head vigorously. That Taemuk couldn’t wield a sword was ridiculous—he was a general, after all. Such rank was no simple matter. He would be skilled not only with sword and bow but also with modern weapons like cannons, grenades, and firearms.

And Hoeun had seen Taemuk fight several times. Though he usually dispatched monsters barehanded, he had once used bamboo like a spear in a grove, and often wielded monster helmets as shields—he was undeniably a master of improvisation and weaponry. No doubt he was fully proficient with a sword as well.