BW C220

Chapter 220

“…….”

Hoeun all but shoved his clothes into the trunk. The garments his parents had carefully sent him felt unbearably cumbersome today. Whenever they got tangled in his haste, he simply crammed them in regardless of how wrinkled they became.

He was in a rush. They were leaving at dawn tomorrow, so everything had to be packed by tonight.

Jeokudae had decided not to go all the way to Hanyang, but instead to stop the Shikgoe nearby. Although they expected the creatures’ destination to be Hanyang, there was no certainty they wouldn’t stop at other towns along the way. The creatures would be hungry—like an army consuming provisions, they might pass through other towns to feed.

Hanyang was important. It was the capital of the Korean Empire, where the Emperor lived—and where Hoeun’s family was. Even so, they couldn’t abandon other towns just to protect it. There were many people living in those towns as well.

Hoeun found himself thinking of the children from Ramjae-eup for the first time in a while. Jeongi, Jeongwoo, and the girls. He had struggled so desperately to protect them. He couldn’t send people like them back into death just to defend Hanyang.

So he agreed, a hundred times, a thousand times over, with Taemuk’s decision to stop the Shikgoe at the very front.

But—

“Haah……”

There was no helping the tightness in his chest. Even as he packed, he let out countless sighs. His hands kept trembling, so he clenched them tightly. Then, suddenly, he would go still, his mind blank, and look around the house.

This house too… this would be the last of it.

He had only stayed here for a single season—winter—but perhaps because that winter had felt so long, the emptiness was sharp. It seemed he had grown attached to this place without realizing it.

Somehow, it felt as though he were being driven out of his own home.

Hoeun stood there blankly staring at the inner room where he had lain with Taemuk every day—

“Young Master. Shall I help you?”

A youthful voice came from behind. Hoeun turned sharply. Chilbok was standing beyond the veranda.

“Ah… no, it’s fine. You must be busy too.”

Hoeun gave a dry laugh and shook his head. There would be plenty to pack in the kitchen—pots, rice, jars… all large and heavy items. Nothing could be left behind. He couldn’t shamelessly ask for help.

But Chilbok slipped off his shoes and came inside anyway. Though winter had already passed, he was still wearing the fur socks Hoeun had once given him.

“We’re already done.”

“Already?”

Hoeun’s eyes widened in surprise. Chilbok puffed up with pride.

“Come on, it’s not like this is our first time packing. It’s quick.”

“That’s impressive. I still have a long way to go……”

Hoeun gave an embarrassed smile at the messy room. In truth, this was his first time packing on his own. When he had left home, his mother had done it; when leaving the first camp, Chilbok and the other soldiers had packed for him. It felt shameful that he couldn’t even do something like this by himself.

“Oh dear, what are you doing stuffing such fine clothes like that? They’re all wrinkled, all wrinkled.”

Speaking in a tone oddly like a mother’s, Chilbok knelt beside him and began carefully unfolding and refolding the crumpled clothes. His hands were meticulous and skillful.

“When we arrive, I’ll press them again, so don’t wear them right away, alright?”

“It’s fine even if they’re a little wrinkled.”

“No, it isn’t. Wrinkles like this would be a disgrace to your dignity, Young Master.”

Chilbok spoke firmly. Hoeun let out a light laugh. Watching him work so diligently, he couldn’t bring himself to stop him and continued packing.

He placed clothes in the trunk, then blankets, and next his notebook and books—when one book slipped and fell.

『Manhwanrok』

It was a book he had bought long ago in Myeonghwa-eup. He hadn’t opened it in quite some time.

Hoeun looked at it quietly, then set it back on the floor. It didn’t seem necessary to bring it. He stacked 『Shikgoe Countermeasures』 on top of it and called out,

“Chilbok.”

“Yes?”

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of what?”

“The Shikgoe.”

Hoeun was afraid. Every time he recalled the creatures—numbering close to a hundred thousand, enough to blanket the land—his skin prickled and his jaw trembled. It felt as though his blood wouldn’t circulate properly; his fingertips turned cold, and he had to keep clenching his fists.

In contrast, Chilbok showed no such signs. Hoeun knew he was mature for his age, but it was still strange. And at the same time, worrying.

“They’re scary.”

Chilbok answered without changing his expression. His hands continued folding clothes.

“Then how can you act like it’s nothing? There are so many this time. We might……”

We might lose.

No—we have no chance of winning.

Hoeun couldn’t bring himself to say it aloud and lowered his gaze.

But Chilbok shrugged.

“We might lose.”

“…What?”

Startled by the bluntness, Hoeun’s eyes widened. But Chilbok spoke calmly, like an old man who had seen everything.

“It’s not like we’ve only lost once or twice……”

“Not just once or twice?”

“Of course. Even Jeokudae hasn’t won every battle coming this far. We’ve lost plenty of times. It was even worse before you came, Young Master. The Commander wasn’t as strong as he is now.”

“…I see.”

Hoeun replied in a subdued voice. His already heavy heart sank further. It felt like something he couldn’t keep inside any longer, as though it might spill out.

But Chilbok continued in a clear, steady voice.

“But even so, Jeokudae never disappeared.”

“….”

“A lot of the older brothers, and a lot of the older sisters died. But Jeokudae is still standing.”

“….”

“So it’ll be the same this time.”

Having just finished folding a piece of clothing, Chilbok looked at Hoeun and smiled faintly. It was a smile meant to comfort him. A smile meant to ease his worries.

And so Hoeun couldn’t help but smile back.

“…I was worrying like a fool.”

Even if they lost, that didn’t mean it was the end. After all, even after the disaster in the fir forest, they were preparing for another battle. Jeokudae would continue to fight, continue to move forward. Even if there were defeats along the way, as long as they kept fighting, it wouldn’t be the final defeat.

Hoeun drew in a deep breath.

Then he began packing again with renewed focus. But the smile he had forced onto his lips gradually lost strength and slowly fell again.

Because defeat was painful, sorrowful, and terrifying.

Someone would be hurt. Someone would lose someone.

Hoeun let out another quiet sigh without realizing it. Watching him from the corner of his eye, Chilbok called softly,

“Young Master.”

“Mm?”

“Instead of worrying… how about trying to look forward to something?”

“…Look forward?”

“Yes. If Jeokudae wins this time, the Shikgoe might disappear.”

“….”

At those words, Hoeun’s lips parted slightly. A spark of light returned to his previously dim eyes.

“You’re right. I hadn’t thought that far.”

He hadn’t even allowed himself to consider victory. But if they did win… this long war would come to an end. No one would be eaten anymore, no one would lose their homes, no one would have to live hiding behind walls.

At that thought, his heart began to pound.

With a faint smile, Hoeun deliberately raised his voice in a brighter tone.

“Then shall we look forward to it? Hmm… Chilbok, what would you want to do if the Shikgoe disappeared?”

He expected Chilbok to list many things.

I want to eat delicious food until I burst.

I want to sleep all day doing nothing.

Something like that.

“……”

But Chilbok pressed his lips together. He lowered his head.

Surprised, Hoeun leaned closer and asked again,

“What? Is there nothing you want to do?”

Chilbok hesitated, then spoke in a voice that barely came out.

“…School.”

“School?”

“I want to go to school.”

“……”

Hoeun froze.

At that moment, he felt ashamed of himself for having expected something trivial like food or sleep.

“I want to make friends there, play ball, and be praised by a teacher.”

“……”

“They say if you behave well, you get a ‘Well done’ stamp. If you collect ten stamps, they give you a new notebook.”

Chilbok spoke without lifting his head, as if embarrassed. Even so, his cheeks were slightly raised, filled with anticipation and excitement.

“……”

Hoeun quietly looked at him.

Had Chilbok never once gone to school?

Then how old had he been when he joined Jeokudae?

No—was it even proper enlistment? Taemuk had awakened as a Military God at an unusually young age, but Chilbok was neither an Ii-in nor a Military God—just an ordinary boy.

As Hoeun could only speculate without asking further, Chilbok spoke as if it were nothing.

“The day before I was supposed to enroll, the Shikgoe attacked our town.”

“Ah……”

“So my older brothers and sisters all went to school, but I couldn’t.”

“……”

“I really wanted to go……”

Hoeun could easily imagine it. A younger Chilbok, eagerly awaiting his first day. Sharpening pencils with small hands, preparing notebooks, asking his siblings about school again and again—unable to fall asleep late into the night.

“But in the end… I survived because I didn’t go.”

“…?”

“My brothers and sisters… were all eaten at school.”