BW C206

Chapter 206

“Everything will be prepared so that you can arrive in Hanyang in time for the Bonding Ceremony.”

“I said I’m not going.”

“Please go with Gilsang, Dongja-noona, and Mansu-hyung. I’ll remain behind and guard the camp.”

“…Ha. Fuck. You’re going to do whatever you want anyway—why even bother asking me?”

“I will also review the new recruits myself. Those who are worth keeping, I’ll accept. The rest, I’ll give them some food and send them away.”

Regardless of Taemuk’s reaction, Byeonguk continued speaking, delivering everything he needed to say with proper formality. His voice was neat, disciplined to the bone.

Taemuk let out another faint, incredulous laugh. Then he bit down on his cigarette and said,

“Just take over as the leader of Jeokudae yourself.”

It had been said casually, almost in passing—but for the first time, the ever-expressionless Byeonguk’s face softened, dampening like something had seeped into it.

“…Please don’t say such things. The leader of Jeokudae… is you, Commander.”

“….”

“From the beginning… to the very end.”

“….”

Taemuk inhaled sharply—once, twice, several times in succession—pulling the smoke deep in.

Then he held it in his lungs before slowly exhaling.

“What do you mean, ‘the end’? The beginning, fine—but the end?”

“When the Shikgoe are gone… that will be the end, won’t it? When that day comes, there will be no need for Jeokudae, nor for soldiers.”

“You think a day like that will come?”

“Didn’t that lieutenant say it? That you would save the country.”

At that, Taemuk let out a quiet scoff and put the cigarette back to his lips.

“Still going on about something from that long ago…”

That ajusshi… right. He used to say things like that all the time. Save the country. You can do it.

Just recalling his face after so long made the cigarette taste bitter—like the very first time he’d smoked one.

Byeonguk watched as the black in Taemuk’s eyes slowly dulled. Then he bowed.

“I will take my leave now. Please get some rest.”

Taemuk didn’t bother responding. Didn’t bother seeing him off either.

And so Byeonguk left, and Taemuk was alone again in the vast, desolate tent.

He smoked slowly.

Occasionally coughed up blood.

And when the cigarette had burned down to a stub too short to hold—

He stared into the darkness pooled in the corner and muttered,

“…Iin.”

Iin…

He had pretended not to care. Pretended he was fine.

But the truth was—he had imagined them before.

Many times.

How could he not? A partner bound by heaven itself.

Especially when everyone around him—Byeonguk, Gilsang, Dongja—had one, and only he didn’t.

It made him ache. Made him wonder.

They said an Iin was something far beyond ordinary human senses and emotions. Something immense.

But Taemuk had never felt even a trace of it—not for a single moment—so he couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Though… if it were something that could wipe away this damned pain in an instant, then maybe it would be something incredible.

“…Iin.”

He exhaled smoke, narrowing his eyes.

What would they look like?

A man? A woman?

How old?

And what the hell had they been doing all this time?

…Nothing bad had happened to them, right?

They weren’t being threatened by Shikgoe, or tormented by some noble, right?

And more importantly—would they even like being his Iin?

Maybe they’d hate it.

After all, he lived in filth and blood, constantly in places no one should ever see.

Would they go mad?

It wouldn’t be surprising. Plenty of people lost their minds on the battlefield.

As all those thoughts tangled together, Taemuk suddenly let out a dry, self-mocking laugh.

“…Idiot.”

There he went again.

Expecting something.

Even though he wouldn’t meet them this time either.

His Iin was probably long dead… or had never even been born.

And even if, by some miracle, they did appear—

They would die soon anyway.

Everyone who had ever stayed by his side had died.

His father.

His mother.

That ajusshi.

Everyone.

…Maybe it was better not to meet them at all.

With that thought, Taemuk crushed the cigarette out carelessly between his fingers.

A sharp sting shot through his skin.

By the time the sun was setting, he finally arrived at the hall where the Bonding Ceremony was being held.

And standing before its doors—

Ridiculously enough—

He felt hope again.

This meaningless ceremony—this was already his nineteenth time.

And yet, all nineteen times, he had been like this.

He was sick of himself.

Was it that he suddenly didn’t want to die anymore?

…No.

That wasn’t it.

He just—

Wanted to meet someone.

Using the grand excuse of “a partner bound by heaven,”

He wanted a person.

Someone who was truly his.

Not the country. Not the Shikgoe. Not the army. Not soldiers.

Just… someone.

And then—

He entered.

Brushed fingertips with countless others—

And once again, disappointment settled in.

Not here either.

Irritation surged, boiling over into anger.

The time he wasted coming here.

His own foolish expectations.

He wanted to snap his own neck with his own hands.

And then—

A swish of silk caught his eye.

Actually, he had noticed them earlier.

It was impossible not to.

The person stood there in bright silk robes, long hair tied neatly with an elegant ribbon.

Their entire being seemed to declare:

I am noble. I was raised precious. I am different from the likes of you.

“….”

Even as Taemuk brushed hands with others, his attention stayed fixed on that person.

At the time, he thought it was just because it was strange—a noble being here.

But looking back, maybe—

He had felt it instinctively.

That this wasn’t an ordinary connection.

When he finally stood before them—

“Um… you have to hold hands.”

A gentle voice.

Flawlessly clear.

So pure it made his skin crawl.

It sounded human—

Yet not.

Like hearing something one shouldn’t.

Like overhearing whispers from beings who lived above the clouds.

A pale hand extended toward him.

“….”

Unblemished.

Delicate.

A hand that had likely never even poured its own glass of water.

Small. Slender. Neatly kept nails.

The fingertips held a faint pink hue, as if they had only ever touched flowers.

Taemuk had never seen such a beautiful hand in his life.

And it irritated him.

Of course it was beautiful.

It had simply lived a sheltered, cherished life.

Just like that noble who cut off his mother’s wrist.

Just like the ribbon that fluttered as the young master ran away.

He wanted to tear it apart.

Rip it to shreds.

Trample it into the ground until sunset.

But he didn’t act on it.

There was no point.

There was no way this person could be his Iin.

No matter how cruel the heavens were—

They wouldn’t bind him to a noble.

But the moment—

His fingertips lightly tapped that hand—

“….”

Lightning struck his world.

Heaven and earth flipped.

Power surged through him.

His mind cleared.

The burning pain that had been coursing through his veins—

Extinguished instantly, like fire doused in cold water.

The blood-stench in his throat—

Turned into blooming flowers.

There was no doubt.

This noble—

Was his Iin.

The one partner in his entire life.

Bound by heaven.

And the moment he realized that—

Taemuk felt only one thing.

Rage.

How could his Iin be a noble?

The same kind of people who made him eat feed.

Who cut off his mother’s wrist.

Who gave him fake ranks while he rotted on the battlefield.

Who locked the gates and let people die outside.

Those people—

His Iin?

So he decided.

Before this person could torment him—

He would crush them first.

He would never eat feed again.

Not knowing—

What kind of existence this person would become in his life.

Foolishly.

By the time Taemuk finished speaking—

The world was bright.

Blinking slowly under the sunlight brushing his face,

He bent forward slightly—

And pressed soft kisses along Hoeun’s nape.

“Good thing I didn’t listen to Byeonguk and skip the ceremony.”

“….”

“I might’ve missed meeting the most precious, the most beautiful Iin in the world.”

Taemuk frowned deeply, as if just imagining it made him dizzy.

Then he smiled faintly, moved by the presence in his arms—

“…Hngh…”

Hoeun’s breathing sounded wet.

His head, buried in Taemuk’s chest, trembled.

Taemuk gently lifted his chin—

And sure enough—

Tears soaked his delicate face.

His eyes and cheeks flushed red with heat.

Taemuk’s brows immediately furrowed.

“Why are you crying again?”