BW C219

Chapter 219

Feeling his chest tighten, Hoeun deliberately inhaled the cold air. He wiped his stinging cheek, beaten numb by the wind, and blinked rapidly over his dry, rough eyes. How long had he been standing like that?

“They’re here.”

Taemuk said. At those words, everyone lowered their bodies all at once as if by prior agreement. Hoeun also lay himself down over the Jeokudae cloak Taemuk had spread on the ground beforehand. They had to hide their presence. They couldn’t let it be known that they were tracking them.

Taemuk bent one knee and stared beyond the horizon. Hoeun followed his gaze and looked in the same direction, but he couldn’t see anything. The end where dust and air mixed was only hazy, like an unknown world. Then—

“Not many of them.”

Byeonguk, who had his eye to the telescope, said. Then he handed it to Hoeun. Hoeun brought it to his eye. Beyond the round, smudged glass, a group of Shikgoe could be seen running, kicking up dust. There seemed to be roughly two to three hundred. And among them, standing tall—golden antennae. Fan-shaped.

“They’re probably not the main force—the real group, I mean.”

Hoeun said, still looking through the telescope. Two to three hundred was not a small number, but it was too few to be the main body.

“Do you think there are other groups?”

Byeonguk asked, his brows twitching.

“Yes. When Jeokudae relocates its camp, we move in several groups, don’t we? Advance unit, rear unit, reconnaissance team… wouldn’t they be the same? The fan-shaped one in the fir forest might’ve been an advance or reconnaissance unit.”

Hoeun handed the telescope back to Byeonguk.

“If the advance unit is 200… how many are in the main force…”

Byeonguk let out a deep sigh, unlike himself, as he took it. A dark shadow had settled under his usually firm eyes.

“Let’s wait a bit longer.”

Taemuk said, then looked at Hoeun. There was faint concern—and irritation—in that gaze. He didn’t like that Hoeun was lying on the ground of all places. Noticing it, Hoeun smiled slightly and whispered.

“I’m fine.”

“……”

Taemuk frowned as if even that answer displeased him, but said nothing more and turned his head forward again.

How much time passed like that? Around when the sky turned red—

Hoeun suddenly felt the ground tremble.

It was very faint, but because his entire body was pressed against the ground, he could clearly feel it.

Before he could even think it might be his imagination, a small pebble in front of him rolled right up to his chin. Hoeun stared at it blankly.

“Ha…”

Taemuk suddenly let out a hollow laugh. It sounded like disbelief. Perhaps even a sigh.

Hoeun looked at him, then followed his gaze—

“Ah…”

And could only let out a long, heavy breath.

It was like a black tide.

As if the night sea was swallowing the land.

Even from so far away that distance couldn’t be measured, their presence was unmistakable. Because from the edge of the horizon, everything was turning black. The way it surged and swallowed the ground was terrifying—almost mystical.

“……”

Hoeun froze with his mouth slightly open. Byeonguk, too, had planted the end of the telescope into the dirt and stared blankly.

How many were there?

A thousand? No—ten thousand? No… maybe over a hundred thousand.

A hundred thousand Shikgoe.

Since ancient times, they had been called Manhwan—ten thousand calamities—but even that meant merely ten thousand.

A hundred thousand?

For the first time, looking at the world turning black, Hoeun thought—

he wanted to run.

He had resolved himself to be torn apart by Shikgoe before—but never to run away. Yet now, he wanted to turn around immediately and flee as fast as he could.

That was how many there were.

Even if one counted all the trees in a forest, all the grains of sand on a beach, all the clouds in the sky—there wouldn’t be this many.

As the black tide drew closer, the trembling of the ground grew stronger. Now the shaking of the earth was visible. Hoeun’s body trembled as well—whether from the vibration or from himself, he couldn’t tell.

Hoeun forgot to even breathe, staring blankly at the Shikgoe. Everyone else was the same.

“……”

“……”

No one spoke. Perhaps they had lost not only their words, but their will to fight as well.

Then—

“Choi Hoeun.”

Taemuk, who had been staring without blinking, called him.

“……”

Hoeun couldn’t answer. His vision and hearing had been completely stolen by the Shikgoe. His chest tightened—it felt like they were trampling not the ground, but his chest.

“Hoeun.”

Taemuk called again.

Only then did Hoeun come to his senses.

“Y-yes, General.”

“Look at them.”

“Pardon?”

Hoeun asked blankly. Byeonguk handed him the telescope. Hoeun hurriedly took it and raised it to his eye.

And once again—

he had to sigh.

“My god…”

Among the black wave, countless antenna-type Shikgoe were jutting out.

Leaf-shaped. Sprout-shaped. Trident-shaped. Twin-horned. Fan-shaped.

The Mongolian woman had been right. All the leaders were gathered together.

Hoeun carefully checked each antenna, wondering if there might be a new type they hadn’t seen before. Thankfully, there wasn’t.

But something was strange.

“What on earth is that…”

Among the mass of Shikgoe, there were bulging formations—what should he call them… clusters of Shikgoe? They were swelling irregularly.

The Shikgoe were attaching their hardest skull plates together, forming massive spheres. Layered dozens of times, they looked like houses—or perhaps carriages.

It was obvious something was hidden inside.

But what it was, no one could tell. There weren’t just one or two—there were dozens—making it even harder to guess.

It had to be something important to them.

Food? Weapons? Or another kind of antenna Shikgoe?

No one knew.

Perhaps each cluster contained something different.

“It looks like there’s something inside. What do you think it is?”

At Hoeun’s question, Taemuk replied in a flat voice.

“Don’t know.”

“……”

“But it’s definitely a weakness.”

“…Pardon?”

Hoeun lowered the telescope and looked at him. Taemuk was still staring ahead.

“If it wasn’t, they wouldn’t be hiding it that tightly.”

“Ah… yes. That’s true.”

If something was hidden, it meant it was valuable. It meant it couldn’t be damaged.

Which meant—whatever was inside—

it was their weakness.

That was good news. Until now, their only weakness had been the brain inside their hard skulls. Now there was another.

“Fortunately, they’re not moving fast.”

Byeonguk said. The creatures were moving at a pace that was neither running nor walking. Likely because the group was enormous—and they were protecting something.

“How long until they reach Hanyang?”

Taemuk asked.

Byeonguk tapped the dirt rapidly with his finger, then answered.

“Slower than a horse… at minimum 20 days, at most around 30.”

“……”

Taemuk’s eyes narrowed.

Slower than expected—but not enough time to relax. It could be said there were only 30 days left before the country fell.

What should they do?

Stop them here—or defend Hanyang?

Taemuk clicked his tongue against his cheek, deep in thought.

Then suddenly—

Dongja crawled over and came beside him.

“What’s there to think about? Why don’t we just—damn it—kill them all right now?”

Her eyes gleamed, filled with a burning desire for revenge.

Taemuk frowned and glared at her.

“What if your body gets torn apart? You’re out of combat until Mansu fully recovers.”

He hadn’t even planned to bring her today, but she insisted on coming.

“Ah, why?!”

Dongja shouted, snorting like a bull.

Taemuk replied in his usual flat tone.

“You gonna leave Mansu alone?”

“……”

Dongja’s mouth snapped shut. Then, as if frustrated—

“Ugh!”

She slammed her head into the ground.

Thud! Thud!

So hard the ground trembled. Her clenched fists shook violently.

Yet Taemuk warned calmly.

“Keep acting up, and I’ll discharge both of you.”

Dongja’s eyes widened. Her fists trembled—but she didn’t rebel.

“Noona, come here.”

Gilsang grabbed her ankle and dragged her away like baggage.

After that, Taemuk continued staring at the Shikgoe for a long time, deep in thought. Furrowing his brow, rubbing it, grinding his teeth so hard his temples bulged.

It was unlike him.

No one could tell what he was thinking.

For some reason, feeling uneasy—

Hoeun kept watching not the surging Shikgoe—

but Taemuk.