BW C218

Chapter 218

“But in truth, it’s only speculation. I don’t think it actually happened that way. No matter how intelligent the Shikgoe are, could they really have sailed all the way to Qing? It’s not a distance that can be traveled in just a day or two.”

At that, Taemuk leaned back deeply into his chair and spoke while staring at the ceiling beams lined in neat rows.

“Maybe they didn’t sail there themselves. Maybe someone sent them.”

“…Who?”

“……”

“…From Wei? How… how could they do such a thing…?”

“Wei had long had its eyes on Joseon. They were preparing for war. So maybe they tried to destroy nearby nations first. Or maybe they were on the brink of collapse themselves and sent them out.”

“……”

Hoeun frowned.

What if the Shikgoe hadn’t come from Wei—but had been sent from Wei?

Then… could it be that Wei had created the Shikgoe in the first place?

As weapons of war?

Hoeun’s brows furrowed deeper.

When had the Shikgoe first arrived on the Korean Peninsula?

Was it coincidence—or intention?

And if Busan and Yeosu had not held their defenses… what would have become of the Great Han Empire?

As Hoeun narrowed his eyes, Taemuk pointed at Qing on the map.

“If we assume the Shikgoe went to Qing, they probably moved like this. It’s the most efficient route.”

His finger traced an arc from Fukuoka at the western edge of Wei to Shanghai in Qing.

“Then did they settle in Shanghai?”

Hoeun asked.

But Taemuk shook his head.

“No. That Mongolian woman said there were a lot of Shikgoe in their capital, right?”

“Yes. She said it was because there were many people there to eat.”

“I don’t think that’s the only reason.”

“…Pardon?”

Taemuk straightened his back and looked at Hoeun.

“When we hunt Shikgoe, we take out the leader first. That breaks their command system. They lose coordination and just become mindless beasts.”

“Yes, that’s true.”

“It’s the same with a country.”

“Ah…”

Hoeun let out a faint breath.

“If the capital falls first, everything else becomes easy. The center issuing commands disappears, communication breaks down, supplies and provisions stop coming, and towns have to survive on their own.”

“Then after passing Shanghai…”

“They probably headed to Beijing.”

Taemuk pointed to the old capital on the map.

Hoeun followed his finger upward—then stopped at Mongolia.

“And after Qing fell… did they move to the Mongolian capital?”

“Maybe.”

“But that’s strange too. Mongolia’s capital is here—and it’s quite far from where we think their base is now.”

If Shikgoe moved based on population centers, targeting capitals first made sense.

But Mongolia’s capital was far from where they currently were—the fir forest area and the refugees’ village were both quite distant from it.

Hoeun expected Taemuk to counter his point.

Instead, Taemuk nodded.

“Exactly.”

“…What?”

“That’s the problem.”

“…What do you mean?”

Hoeun looked at him, confused.

But Taemuk kept his gaze on the map.

“Based on their behavior so far, they should have gone to capitals. But now they’re somewhere else. That means they’re moving.”

“…Moving?”

Hoeun frowned.

Moving—meaning relocating their base.

It wasn’t impossible.

They had moved from Wei to Qing, then to Mongolia.

And the Mongolian woman said there had been no Shikgoe before—then suddenly many appeared.

That meant the Shikgoe had come there.

“They devoured the people of Wei, then moved to Qing. Devoured Qing, then moved to Mongolia. And until recently, they were feeding on Mongolians.”

“……”

“Now, there’s not a single town or village left in Mongolia. The people we saved today… might be the last Mongolians.”

“…So there’s nothing left to eat.”

“Right.”

“Then they’ll move to find new prey.”

“Probably.”

Hoeun looked back at the map, then tilted his head.

“The place we identified as their base… it’s barren. Why would they move there? There are no towns, no people.”

“They might still be in transit.”

“…Ah.”

They were relocating.

Their destination might be somewhere else.

“Then they’ll head toward another capital—somewhere with many people and administrative importance.”

Hoeun scanned the map quickly.

But then Taemuk pointed near the fir forest.

“The base we predicted was here. They were probably there at the time.”

“Yes.”

“But the Mongolian refugees’ village is here. A place where there were no Shikgoe—until suddenly there were.”

His finger moved slightly downward.

Near the former Qing-Mongol border.

Hoeun nodded slowly.

“They’re moving south.”

“Yeah. They’re moving south.”

Taemuk confirmed grimly, licking his dry lower lip.

“What lies to the south—”

Hoeun began absentmindedly, lowering his gaze.

Then—

his breath stopped.

His face turned pale.

“…No way.”

He looked at Taemuk.

Taemuk was staring at a specific point on the map.

Hoeun followed his gaze.

There—

Hanyang.

The capital of the Great Han Empire.

The wind howled fiercely.

Not as cold as winter, but strong enough to shake the body like an unseen force striking the shoulders. One wrong step, and it felt like they might be pushed straight off the cliff at their feet.

“……”

Hoeun stared down into the abyss, his face pale.

Then he looked around.

To his left stood Taemuk.

To his right, Byeonguk.

Behind him were Gilsang, Dongja, and five or six other soldiers.

This was the cliff Jeokudae had once visited without Hoeun—the place where they had observed Shikgoe behavior after killing an antenna-type. Hoeun hadn’t been able to come that day, having been bedridden with a nosebleed.

Today’s mission was to confirm the direction of the Shikgoe’s movement.

If their deduction was correct—that the Shikgoe were moving south—then they would have to pass through this region.

And if so, they would see them here.

They had come every morning and evening for three days.

Fortunately—or unfortunately—they hadn’t seen any.

“……”

“……”

The soldiers wiped their faces wearily.

Taemuk narrowed and opened his eyes repeatedly, cigarette in mouth.

Byeonguk raised and lowered a telescope, scanning the horizon.

And Hoeun sighed quietly.

If they found the Shikgoe, they could estimate their numbers, movement patterns, and how long it would take to reach Hanyang.

But part of him hoped—

that they wouldn’t appear at all.

Because that would mean their prediction was wrong.

That the Shikgoe had gone somewhere else.

It would mean the war would last longer—but at least they would have time.

What a cowardly thought.

Hoeun sighed deeply, brushing back his hair.

Then—

A strong gust of wind slammed into his back.

“Ah—”

His frail body staggered.

His feet slid toward the edge.

Suddenly, a firm hand grabbed his elbow.

Taemuk.

He pulled Hoeun back in front of him.

And just like that—

the wind seemed to disappear.

Hoeun looked up at him.

Taemuk said nothing, still staring ahead.

Hoeun spoke softly.

“What if the Shikgoe really go to Hanyang?”

“Then we stop them.”

“…Us?”

“Who else would?”

“……”

Hoeun bit his lip.

Jeokudae was strong.

That was undeniable.

But how many Shikgoe were there?

Jeokudae had a thousand members—but excluding guides and ordinary soldiers, there were fewer than five hundred military gods.

Only five hundred.

If the Shikgoe numbered ten thousand…

Even with Taemuk, victory would be difficult.

And if there were many as intelligent as the fan-type—

Then even Taemuk might…

“……”

Hoeun shut his eyes tightly, then opened them and looked out over the plains.

Under the clear sky, the vast land stretched endlessly.

Peaceful.

Too peaceful.

And that made it all the more terrifying.

He glanced behind him.

Dongja, Gilsang, and the others were scanning the surroundings.

Their numbers were small—intentionally so.

So they could escape quickly if discovered.

Escape.

Jeokudae.

But it couldn’t be helped.

They couldn’t afford to lose more blood and lives again.