Chapter 226

“……”

At those words, Taemuk’s breath abruptly stopped.

It was as though his breathing had been cut cleanly in half.

His eyes, meanwhile, shook violently like a bell struck hard.

Perhaps sensing it, Hoeun opened his eyes a little wider and looked directly at him.

Then, in his usual calm voice, he spoke again.

“You once told me that I am precious to you.”

“……”

“You are precious to me too, General.”

“……”

“So please don’t get hurt. Don’t get injured either….”

“……”

Taemuk didn’t answer.

He couldn’t.

I love you.

You are precious.

He had often told Hoeun things like that—that he was precious, that he liked him.

But never once had he heard such words from Hoeun.

That wasn’t to say he had ever felt disappointed by it.

Hoeun’s heart had always overflowed through his gaze, his words, and his actions.

Taemuk had always felt it more than enough.

And yet…

Hearing it spoken aloud now made him wonder if perhaps that had never truly been enough.

Slowly, Hoeun wriggled one hand free from beneath the blanket and reached for Taemuk’s hand.

It was only a loose grip.

But even so, Taemuk could fully feel his warmth, his touch—

and that miraculous connection only a General (군신) and an Iin (이인) could share.

“I love you, General. I… love you….”

Hoeun repeated it several more times, almost as though he were murmuring in a dream.

Then, little by little, sleep finally claimed him.

“……”

Taemuk silently stared at Hoeun’s sleeping face.

Then, overcome by a sudden surge of emotion, he pulled the slender body tightly into his arms and buried his face in Hoeun’s hair.

Strangely enough, he felt as though he might cry.

His body had been torn apart countless times, yet not once had tears come.

But with just one sentence from Hoeun, his eyes burned so fiercely it felt as though they might melt.

His throat felt clogged with fire.

His body trembled.

Not from cold.

“……”

Taemuk held Hoeun like that for a long time.

And as he did, he thought:

Tonight is the fullest night of my entire life.

No other night could ever surpass this one.

At this very moment, he felt greater and happier than a nobleman—

No, even greater than a king.

So—

Even if he died—

He would have—

No regrets.

16. By the Turbulent River

“Young master! All the Sikgoe are dead!”

At Deokwoo’s loud shout, Hoeun—who had been sitting on the wooden floor, stroking Nureongi’s back—snapped his head up.

“Really? The Sikgoe?”

His eyes widened.

All the Sikgoe were dead?

All of them?

How?

It was so unbelievable that he sat there in stunned silence.

Deokwoo came running toward him, hopping excitedly in place.

“Yes! Every single one! Let’s go outside! Everyone’s going crazy!”

“Uh… no, I’m okay. You go by yourself.”

Hoeun shook his head.

He didn’t know why.

Normally, he would have welcomed any chance to go outside.

But today, for some reason, he didn’t want to.

But Deokwoo grabbed his hand and pulled.

“Come on! It’s a good day!”

“……”

That alone felt strange.

Deokwoo was one of the people who was overprotective of Hoeun—practically as much as his parents.

Always afraid he’d break if touched too hard or be blown away by the wind.

Yet now he was dragging him outside with unusual force.

Pulled along, Hoeun crossed the yard and passed through the front gate almost without realizing it.

Behind him, Nureongi barked loudly.

Outside, just as Deokwoo had said—

it was packed with people.

The roads were overflowing.

Everyone was smiling.

Laughing.

Cheering.

Dancing while hugging one another.

Above them, sunlight shone brilliantly.

Pink flower petals scattered through the air like rain.

Freed from fear and anxiety, everyone’s faces glowed.

Seeing that, a smile slowly bloomed on Hoeun’s lips too.

So it was true.

The Sikgoe were really gone.

The moment he truly felt that reality, something swelled up deep inside his chest.

An emotion too powerful for words.

What was it?

Yes.

Pride.

It was pride.

All the days of struggle and hardship had accumulated and finally led to today.

How could he not feel proud?

Hoeun quietly placed a hand over his chest.

Then—

“Young master! Let’s dance too!”

Deokwoo grabbed his hand and began dancing enthusiastically.

The sight was so ridiculous that Hoeun burst into laughter.

Just then—

“Young master! Young master! I’m here!”

Someone tugged at his sleeve.

Turning, he saw Jeong-i standing there, wearing the ribbon Hoeun had once bought for her.

“Jeong-i!”

Jeong-u stood beside her as well.

His injured leg appeared fully healed now.

Seeing him standing tall made Hoeun smile.

“Jeong-u, you came too! Have you been well? Nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened. With all the Sikgoe dead, what could happen?”

“Right. You’re right. The Sikgoe are all dead.”

After that, they all danced together.

Hoeun felt truly happy.

He had never felt joy like this in his entire life.

But after dancing for some time—

Deokwoo disappeared.

Then Jeong-i and Jeong-u vanished too.

Yet Hoeun didn’t feel scared.

Nor confused.

Like a small boat drifting with the waves, he simply continued moving through the crowd.

Then—

His steps halted.

He had heard someone crying.

At first, Hoeun thought absently that someone must be crying from overwhelming happiness.

Crying because peace had returned.

Because freedom had finally been won.

But then—

A sharp scent brushed past his nose.

Tobacco.

No—

incense.

At the same time, the crying grew louder.

And it was no joyful crying.

It was sorrowful.

Heartbreaking.

“……”

Hoeun stood frozen.

Then, as though possessed by something, he began walking toward the sound.

He walked for some time.

Eventually, he reached an alley.

Unlike the streets outside, there were no crowds here.

The smell was stronger.

He inhaled it several times before realizing—

It wasn’t tobacco.

It was incense.

The scent was overwhelming.

It felt like it pierced straight into his brain.

Frowning, Hoeun instinctively tried to step back.

Then—

“Oh no….”

“How could this happen….”

Wailing.

After hesitating briefly, Hoeun stepped into the alley.

The moment he did, the cheers from outside became impossibly distant.

The alley felt long.

Or perhaps short.

Either way, it felt deep.

So deep it almost felt as though he was descending downward rather than walking forward.

The air grew heavier.

His vision blurred.

It felt like fog filled only this alley.

Around then, Hoeun noticed his heart racing.

As though he already knew what he was about to see.

His stomach churned.

A headache bloomed.

The incense was so overwhelming it made him feel sick.

Finally, he reached the end.

There was a door.

A very small, insignificant door.

Not even a proper gate—

more like a side entrance.

“……”

Hoeun stood motionless before it.

From beyond the door came wailing.

From behind him came the distant cheers of celebration.

Standing between the two felt surreal.

He remained still for a long time.

He didn’t want to enter.

But neither did he want to turn back.

Then—

The door slowly widened.

It opened its mouth like a Sikgoe—

and swallowed him whole.

“Ah—”

Hoeun staggered dangerously.

When he regained his balance, he found himself surrounded by people.

Unlike those outside, the people here were not smiling.

Nor openly crying.

No—

they were crying, but their faces were pale and indistinct, as though draped in white cloth.

Still, Hoeun recognized them.

Gilsang was crying.

Seong-im was shedding tears.

Byeong-uk stood with his head lowered like a criminal.

Chilbok was there too.

And many others.

They wailed.

Their grief-stricken bodies shook and twisted like dancers.

But this dance was nothing like the joyful dancing outside.

Hoeun moved through them with a blank expression.

The incense smell became stronger.

His nose began to sting.

And then—

finally—

he stood before a memorial portrait.

“……”

It sat alone atop an old wooden floor.

No ceremonial table.

No offerings.

Just the portrait.

But the portrait had no face.

Only the faint outline of a human figure.

Even so—

Hoeun knew.

It was him.

It was Taemuk.

“Why… why…?”

His breathing stopped.

How could Taemuk die?

He was the strongest General in the world.

A man who survived even when his body was torn apart.

Why had he died?

How?

Why did he have to die?

…And while he was dying—

what was I doing?

Hoeun reached out toward the portrait with trembling hands.

Then grief crushed him.

The moment he understood Taemuk was dead, sorrow poured down like a violent storm and crushed his entire body.

“Ah… ahhh…!”

Hoeun twisted in agony as he cried.

It felt as though his chest were being ripped apart.

As though his organs were twisting.

As though his bones were shattering.

He slammed his forehead into the floor, clawing at the ground while sobbing.

Unable to bear the pain tearing through his chest, he clawed desperately at himself.

Then—

someone raised the Jeokudae flag into the sky.

It was soaked in blood.

Its corners torn.

It looked just like Taemuk.

Maybe that was why.

Hoeun suddenly felt as though he had to catch it.

If he could catch it—

maybe he could undo Taemuk’s death.

“No… no…!”

Hoeun shot to his feet and reached desperately toward the flag.