BW C212

Chapter 212

“…Pardon?”

“We were, well… shouting like ducks, yelling quack quack. And then he heard it and came.”

“The General did?”

“Yeah. Seriously, he showed up like some hero out of a story, and just—barehanded—started ripping the heads off those Shikgoe one after another… Hah…”

Dongja narrowed her eyes as if even recalling it now was astonishing, letting out a breath of admiration. At that, Hoeun clasped his hands together tightly and let out a sigh of relief.

“Ah, that’s a relief. Truly a relief. Heaven must have helped us.”

Hoeun knew very well what it felt like to encounter Taemuk at the brink of death, to witness his strength. He had already been saved by him enough times to count on both hands—how could he not know?

“So I followed the Commander to another town, awakened as a Military God there, and joined Jeokudae. That same year, I met Mansu at the Inyeonje.”

“I see.”

Hoeun nodded lightly. While Dongja’s story weighed on his heart, something else worried him as well—what if the Wae people were still somewhere on this land, tormenting innocent people? What if they had settled wherever they pleased and claimed it as their own? Fighting the Shikgoe was already overwhelming—yet there was more to worry about…

As Hoeun pressed his lips together and stared at the edge of the table, Dongja gulped down her soup like water and smacked her lips.

“Ahh, talking so much makes me parched.”

That snapped Hoeun back to himself.

“Would you like more soup?”

He moved to step down from the platform, but Dongja grabbed his arm.

“Oh my? How could I make someone as precious as you do that? Sit, sit.”

Dongja wiped her nose roughly with the back of her hand and moved to go to the kitchen herself. This time, Hoeun stopped her.

“No, it’s only right that someone of lower standing like me does it. Please sit.”

“Hah, lower standing? You’re lower than me?”

“Of course. I’m younger than you, and I joined Jeokudae much later. Sometimes I even think I should be the one attending to Chilbok.”

“You? Attending to Chilbok?”

Dongja burst into laughter as if she’d heard something ridiculous. Hoeun smiled along and naturally stepped down.

“What about rice? Would you like more rice as well?”

“Ah, sure.”

“I’ll bring it right away.”

Carrying the empty bowls, Hoeun slipped his feet into his neatly placed shoes. As he did, he also straightened Dongja’s carelessly discarded shoes.

Thud.

Something fell from his chest.

It was the notebook he had been keeping on him at all times lately. He picked it up, set it on the platform, and headed to the kitchen.

“……”

Dongja quietly watched his retreating figure. Then her gaze fell on the notebook he had left behind. A sketch of Shikgoe antennae stuck out slightly.

“……”

She tilted her head left, then right as she looked at it.

Then suddenly—her eyes darkened like black stones.

The spoon slipped from her hand.

Clang—

Startled by the noise, Hoeun turned sharply.

“Noona?”

“Young Master!”

Dongja shouted back just as loudly. Hoeun quickly returned to her.

“Yes? Do you need something else?”

“I’ve seen that before.”

“What?”

“That. The antennae.”

She pointed at the notebook. Hoeun glanced at it, then back at her.

“Ah, the Shikgoe antennae?”

“Yeah. That.”

“……”

Hoeun looked at her as if asking why? It was strange—bringing up antennae out of nowhere in the middle of a meal. Dongja often said odd things, but this was especially abrupt. And of course she had seen Shikgoe antennae—how many had she killed?

Though puzzled, Hoeun waited, trying to understand what she meant.

But what she said next was completely unexpected.

“The helmets those Wae bastards wore looked exactly like that.”

“…Pardon?”

“Their helmets. The headgear. They looked just like those antennae.”

“…What?”

The expression slowly drained from Hoeun’s face.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence?”

Hoeun asked, staring at the flickering lantern.

“Hard to say.”

Taemuk replied as he pressed a cloth against Hoeun’s damp hair, drying it. His expression seemed indifferent, but there was a faint crease between his brows.

Just moments ago, Hoeun had relayed everything Dongja had said earlier that day, word for word.

“You said soldiers attacked the town, right? Their uniforms were… strange. They wore black helmets with wide gold plates attached—like stag beetles.”

“But thinking about it now, they looked exactly like Shikgoe antennae. Some like antlers, some like crescents.”

The more he repeated it, the stranger it sounded.

Wearing something like that on their heads?

And for it to resemble Shikgoe antennae?

How could that be, when they were humans and the Shikgoe were not?

As Taemuk slowly combed through Hoeun’s hair with his fingers, he clenched his jaw.

“I don’t think it’s a coincidence,” Hoeun said quietly. “It’s already strange to attach something like that to a helmet, but for the shape to be the same… how could that be a coincidence? What do you think, General?”

“It’s worth looking into.”

“Right?”

Hoeun turned to him, eyes shining. He was slightly excited at the thought that they might uncover something—perhaps even a way to overcome the Shikgoe.

Finding him endearing, Taemuk pressed a firm kiss to his forehead before pulling away. Then he continued drying his hair.

“But it’ll be hard to get information within the unit. If it happened when Dongja was young, that’s about twenty years ago. I don’t know much about Wae either.”

“That makes sense. It’s been decades since Wae fell.”

Hoeun nodded in agreement. He, too, knew little about Wae—only that it had long coveted Joseon and the Korean Empire, and that it no longer existed.

After a moment of thought, Hoeun absentmindedly stroked Taemuk’s knee and murmured,

“If only there were someone older we could ask… someone with white hair…”

His voice trailed off.

Then suddenly, like a squirrel pricking up its ears, he straightened and turned to Taemuk.

“How old is the old man at the infirmary?”

“You’re asking if I know anything about Wae?”

The old man, wiping blood from his hands with a cloth, looked at them as if the question made no sense.

“Yes.”

Standing below the veranda, Hoeun nodded simply. His hair fluttered in the wind—he had rushed out so quickly he hadn’t even braided it. Though he usually kept himself neat, he didn’t have the luxury to worry about that now.

Taemuk, however, seemed bothered by it. He gathered Hoeun’s loose hair and tucked it into his coat. The still-damp strands had begun to stiffen slightly from the cold.

“Hmm… I just know it’s a country that fell long ago.”

The old man sat down with a grunt. At the unhelpful answer, Taemuk raised one brow.

“That’s it?”

“Well, you need to tell me what you’re looking for.”

The old man looked up at him as if to say it wasn’t his fault, tapping his knee with his fist.

“Hmm……”

Hoeun slowly moved his gaze from side to side.

What was he looking for?

He didn’t know either.

It felt like standing before something massive hidden in thick fog—unable to tell whether a monster, a person, or something unknown lay within.

The only certainty was that something was there.

Stepping closer, Hoeun asked again,

“I heard that Wae soldiers wore helmets shaped like Shikgoe antennae. Have you ever seen anything like that?”

“Helmets…”

The old man stroked his white eyebrows in thought. Meanwhile, Taemuk ordered a nearby medic to bring a blanket for Hoeun. The medic hurried off.

Soon, the old man shook his head.

“I’m not sure. I’ve seen people from Wae before it fell, but they weren’t soldiers. Merchants, businessmen…”

“Then what were they like?”

“Just ordinary people. Two eyes, one nose, one mouth—same as us.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, they didn’t leave a good impression. There were rumors at the time that those island bastards would invade our land to expand onto the continent.”

“I see……”

Hoeun’s brows drooped in disappointment.