BW C213

Chapter 213

“……”

It didn’t seem like he would be able to get any useful information from the old man. Ho-eun already knew that Wae had once coveted their land. But then the old man slapped his knee again and continued.

“They said they were making weapons, that they’d already appeared along the coast, that people were being taken—rumors like that spread, so everyone was very worried. Then, at some point, suddenly, the country started to shake rapidly, and among the nearby nations, it was the very first to fall.”

After saying that, the old man briefly turned his head to look at the injured inside the room. Then he looked back at Ho-eun.

For some reason, Ho-eun’s eyes were wide open—so wide they looked as if they might roll right out.

“…Did you say Wae fell… first?”

“Yes. First.”

“Are you certain Wae was the first among the surrounding nations to fall?”

At Ho-eun’s repeated question, the old man nodded vigorously enough for his white beard to flutter.

“Yes, I’m sure. The whole country was in an uproar when the news came. After that, Qing and Mongol fell one after the other.”

Ho-eun’s eyes filled with confusion. He couldn’t understand what he was hearing.

“How… is that possible?”

“Hm?”

“Wae is an island nation, isn’t it? That means it’s surrounded by the sea on all sides.”

“Ah, yes. That’s right.”

“Then it should have been difficult for the Shikgoe to even reach Wae. How could it have been the first to fall? Shouldn’t it be the one that’s still standing the strongest right now?”

“Well… maybe the Shikgoe swam across the sea.”

The old man answered as if to say why are you asking me that?—or perhaps that whether such a country fell or not was none of his concern.

But Ho-eun was serious.

“The Shikgoe aren’t sea creatures. They don’t have webbed hands or feet, and they don’t have gills. I don’t know how long they can hold their breath underwater, or how well they can swim… but their bodies aren’t adapted for living in water.”

So there was no reason for the Shikgoe to bypass countless land-based nations, including the Korean Empire, just to go to Wae. And it was even less likely that enough of them to destroy a country had crossed the sea.

Then why had Wae fallen first?

Was it a weak nation?

Did it lack Military Gods strong enough to fight them?

Had it collapsed before it could even respond?

But hadn’t it been preparing for war?

As Ho-eun rubbed his rounded forehead in thought, the medic who had gone to fetch a blanket at Taemuk’s command returned. Taemuk shook the blanket out, checked its smell, then spread it wide and draped it over Ho-eun’s shoulders as he spoke.

“It’s possible the Shikgoe didn’t go to Wae.”

“…What do you mean?”

“It means they might have come from there.”

“……”

Ho-eun blinked rapidly.

If they came from there… did that mean the Shikgoe had originated in Wae? That Wae was where they had first appeared?

As that thought reached its conclusion, things he had remembered but never connected came crashing down like a sudden downpour.

“Shikgoe consider noses and ears a delicacy.”

—Just like during the Imjin War, when Wae soldiers cut off the noses and ears of Joseon people to prove their kills.

“Did you know Busan was breached once?”

—Shikgoe had appeared in Busan, close to Wae, arriving by ship.

“Those Wae soldiers’ helmets—their headgear—it looks exactly like those antennae.”

—The resemblance between their helmets and the Shikgoe’s feelers.

“Ah……”

Ho-eun let out a faint sigh.

Everything became clear.

The Shikgoe had come from Wae.

Bang! Click.

Bang! Click.

Bang! Click.

Each time Ho-eun pulled the trigger, the center of the targets standing irregularly ahead burst apart with dull thuds.

Behind the encampment, in a long, narrow space hidden among dense trees, was a training ground Taemuk had personally made just for him.

Ho-eun came here often to shoot. Most of the time it was for training, but he also came when he needed to think. Sometimes, firing the gun helped organize the tangled thoughts in his head.

He had come today hoping for the same, but even after firing dozens of rounds, his thoughts remained muddled. If anything, they had grown darker and heavier.

“……”

Looking at the battered wooden targets, Ho-eun lowered the gun to reload.

Today’s weapon wasn’t the usual pistol, but a rifle nearly as long as his upper body. It could hold five rounds in its magazine, and each shot required manually pulling the bolt to eject the casing, but it was far more powerful than a pistol and could kill enemies at a greater distance.

It was another weapon Taemuk had taught him to use after they relocated the camp. The more weapons one could handle, the better—that was his belief.

Ho-eun skillfully loaded the rounds, chambered one with a click, and raised the rifle again.

“You’re doing well on your own now.”

“Ah……”

A familiar voice.

When he turned his head, he saw Taemuk leaning against a tree with his arms crossed. Ho-eun’s face brightened instantly.

“General!”

Setting the rifle down, he ran toward him, his ribbon fluttering. With the snow melted, his steps made soft crunching sounds on the dirt.

Reaching him, Ho-eun neatly brought his hands together and bowed.

“You’re back.”

Then, as always, he looked Taemuk over—checking for blood, for injuries.

Fortunately, there were no bloodstains. His uniform was intact as well. It seemed he hadn’t encountered any Shikgoe today—or perhaps he had washed up in the stream.

“So now that you never miss, you don’t need a teacher anymore.”

Taemuk gently brushed away a stray strand of hair from Ho-eun’s cheek, his tone faintly dissatisfied.

“Never miss? That’s too much praise.”

Ho-eun smiled softly. He could hit a stationary target easily, but moving Shikgoe were still beyond him. He needed more training. After the battle in the fir forest, even the small confidence he had once had was gone.

“And while I was shooting, I was thinking of you, General.”

“Were you?”

“Yes. I thought you’d be listening.”

“……”

“And you did hear me, didn’t you?”

Ho-eun lightly brushed Taemuk’s arm, as if telling him not to be upset. He knew his gunshots sounded like a loud gong to Taemuk’s ears. That was why he fired each shot more carefully—and because of that, his skill had improved this much.

“……”

Taemuk glanced sideways at the targets. The red-painted centers were completely destroyed, the color almost gone.

“If the targets look like that, why are you still shooting?”

“Just… my mind is a bit complicated.”

“Because of the Shikgoe?”

“Yes.”

Ho-eun let out a heavy sigh, recalling what he had heard from the old man a few days ago.

“The fact that the Shikgoe came from Wae is a huge piece of information, but it hasn’t led to anything else. No matter how much I think about it, everything is just speculation…”

“……”

“We need certainty to make a strategy. Only then can we minimize casualties in the next battle…”

Since that day, Ho-eun had asked the old man everything he could think of. But he had only learned one more thing.

“When did the surrounding nations fall? Let’s see… Wae fell 32 years ago, Qing 18 years ago, and Mongol 8 years ago.”

The speed at which nations fell was increasing.

That meant the Shikgoe had grown more efficient at destroying countries and devouring people—or that their numbers had increased.

It was important information, but not practically helpful.

“And going back to the site of the fir forest battle seems too reckless… There might be another fan-type Shikgoe, and then someone might lose their life again…”

Groaning, Ho-eun rubbed his forehead. His eyes felt dry, his mouth parched—it was as if he were coming down with another fever.

“……”

Taemuk looked down at him quietly.

At some point, Ho-eun had become the center of Jeokudae’s strategic meetings.

It was something to be proud of—but watching him like this wasn’t pleasant. It was painful to see him blame himself when results were poor, or when losses were heavy like this time.

He considered excluding him from the meetings altogether—but Ho-eun would be hurt by that. And besides, he was genuinely helpful.

For now, he needed to lift his spirits. Otherwise, he’d end up falling ill again, unable to even finish dinner.

Having decided that, Taemuk cleared his throat.

“The place we went before.”

“Yes?”

“The one under the big tree, where the light came through.”

“Ah, yes.”

Ho-eun recognized it immediately. The place where golden sunlight had poured over the white snow, where they had lain for a long time beneath the great tree.

He looked up at Taemuk, wondering why he brought it up.

Taemuk tilted his head slightly, avoiding his gaze.

“There… flowers bloomed.”

“Flowers?”

“Yeah. Those… jindallae(azalea), I think. The same ones embroidered on your handkerchief.”

At that moment, Ho-eun’s eyes lit up as if someone had shone a lantern into them. His cheeks lifted, his lips curved, and even his heels rose slightly.