Chapter 228

At those words, Hoeun had to bite down hard on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing.

Mansu’s habit of joking about his missing arm always left him awkwardly flustered.

Clearing his throat, Hoeun deliberately changed the topic.

“Where did Dongja noona go?”

“She went up there. They were short on hands, so she went to help. Our Dongja’s the strongest when it comes to brute force.”

Mansu pointed toward the upper stretch of the Amnok River, in the direction of Baekdu Mountain.

“Yes, of course.”

Hoeun nodded neatly.

He vividly remembered Dongja punching down a massive fir tree in the pouring rain.

Among Jeokudae, she was probably second only to Taemuk in strength.

After that, the two continued painting the kites in silence.

As they worked, Hoeun felt the chaotic noise in his head gradually settle.

The spring wind was cool but bearable.

Aside from the occasional voices of soldiers, the surroundings were peaceful.

And watching the kite slowly fill with color felt strangely calming.

So peaceful that it was hard to believe battle was just ahead.

Perhaps Mansu noticed the change in his mood.

“Pretty fun once you get into it, right?”

Pretending not to look at Hoeun, Mansu asked casually.

Hoeun gave a small nod.

“Yes. It feels different from painting. But enjoyable in its own way.”

Back in Hanyang, he had always stayed inside the house.

He had learned calligraphy from his father.

Painting from his mother.

He had even done embroidery.

But this was new.

It didn’t need to be beautiful.

There were no rules.

He simply had to fill empty spaces.

And somehow, that felt nice.

“When your head’s all noisy, stuff like this is the best.”

“…It really is.”

Hoeun smiled faintly.

It seemed Mansu had deliberately come to comfort him.

Hoeun felt grateful.

At the same time, guilty.

He had caused worry at such an important time.

Swallowing a sigh, Hoeun continued carefully coloring the kite.

Then Mansu called him again.

“Young master.”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Don’t worry too much.”

“…What?”

Caught off guard, Hoeun looked at him.

Mansu kept his gaze fixed on the kite, steadily pressing dye into the fabric as he spoke.

“Even if a hundred thousand Sikgoe come.”

He paused.

“No—even a million.”

“……”

“The commander will be fine.”

“……”

“And so will you.”

“……”

“Even if the rest of us all die, the commander and you will survive—”

“No—no, how can you say something like that? Please don’t say such things.”

Hoeun jerked violently, shaking his head so hard the ribbon in his hair swayed.

We all die.

Just hearing such words felt horrifying.

Seeing Hoeun go pale, Mansu chuckled.

“Ah, I don’t mean that’ll really happen. I’m just saying the commander’s that strong. And you—we’ll protect you.”

“……”

Protect you.

It sounded romantic.

But on a battlefield, it wasn’t romantic at all.

It meant:

We’ll choose your life over ours.

Because of that, Hoeun couldn’t bring himself to say thank you.

He knew how many had died or been injured protecting him in the fir forest.

But did that make him think, I should have died instead?

No.

It wasn’t that either.

Not because he clung to life.

But because if he died—

Taemuk would be left alone.

And that thought was unbearable.

He didn’t care if he died.

But leaving Taemuk behind alone?

That terrified him.

At the same time, he hated the idea of others dying because of him.

Nothing about this was simple.

With a gloomy expression, Hoeun dipped the cloth into black ink again.

The fabric soaked it up instantly, becoming heavy.

Dark ink stained his fingertips.

Then—

“Young master.”

Mansu called him again.

“Yes, hyung.”

Hoeun answered weakly.

“We believe the commander will save the country.”

“……”

“And save us too.”

“……”

Hoeun assumed Mansu was simply trying to comfort him.

That Taemuk was extraordinary.

That there was nothing to worry about.

So he smiled lightly.

“Yes. I believe that too.”

But then Mansu met his eyes.

His voice dropped lower.

More serious.

“No. I mean it.”

“……”

“The commander is a hero.”

“……”

Hoeun slowly set the cloth down.

A hero.

At first glance, it sounded dramatic.

But it was true.

If Taemuk wasn’t a hero, then who in the world was?

Hoeun was about to nod—

when Mansu suddenly grinned.

“And young master, as the commander’s Iin, you’re a hero too.”

“What? N-No, me? That’s absurd.”

Hoeun shook his head rapidly.

He had always wanted to be useful.

But becoming a hero like Taemuk?

Never.

How could he possibly compare?

Even if he possessed strength equal to Taemuk’s, he knew he could never live as Taemuk did.

But Mansu shook his head too.

“That’s only because you don’t realize how much stronger the commander became because of you.”

“……”

“He was strong before too, sure.”

Mansu scratched his cheek.

“But… kinda… you know?”

He searched for words.

“Like a ghost.”

“……”

“Or a beast.”

“……”

“Or someone who’d already accepted the day he’d die. Just dark all the time.”

“……”

“But after meeting you, he became steadier.”

“……”

“Calmer.”

“……”

“More human.”

At those words, Hoeun smiled faintly.

He knew what Taemuk had once been like.

Taemuk himself had told him.

A man forced to live like a ghost.

Like a beast.

The thought still hurt his heart.

“Do you know how happy it makes us to see the commander these days?”

“……”

“It’s all thanks to you.”

“……”

“To the commander, you’ve become someone he absolutely cannot live without.”

“……”

“And to us too, you’re important.”

Mansu lifted the half-painted kite.

“You’re kind. Smart. Gentle. And you help devise battle strategies.”

That made Hoeun laugh softly.

To become someone useful to Taemuk.

Useful to Jeokudae.

He never imagined such a day would come.

Then Mansu shuffled closer.

He sat right beside Hoeun.

This time, his expression turned serious.

“So, young master.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t waver.”

“…What?”

For a moment, Hoeun felt his heart plummet.

At the same time, shame washed over him.

It felt as though all his inner thoughts had been exposed.

His gaze shook.

Mansu firmly pressed a hand onto Hoeun’s thigh.

As if telling him not to look away.

“If you waver…”

“……”

“The commander wavers too.”

“……”

“And if the commander wavers…”

“……”

“We all waver.”

“……”

Hoeun slowly inhaled through his nose.

A wavering Taemuk.

A wavering Jeokudae.

Just imagining it made everything go dark.

He should have steadied himself.

Instead, his anxiety deepened.

Before, he had only been afraid.

Now, there was pressure too.

Perhaps sensing his turmoil, Mansu held his gaze and said firmly—

“In this battle…”

“……”

“We’ll win.”

“……”

“No matter what.”

“……”

“Because we’ll keep fighting until we win.”

“……”

Hoeun stared quietly at Mansu.

Mansu’s face was covered in scars.

Large ones.

Small ones.

There were so many it was almost miraculous his features remained intact.

He had been wounded countless times.

He had even lost an arm.

And yet—

he wasn’t afraid.

If anything, he burned with even stronger determination than before.

“So don’t be afraid.”

“……”

Hoeun’s lashes fluttered.

We’ll fight until we win.

Come to think of it, Chilbok had said something similar.

Jeokudae lost battles sometimes.

But Jeokudae itself never disappeared.

Hoeun stared at Mansu for a long moment.

Then he nodded firmly.

“Yes. I’ll remember that.”

He inhaled deeply.

He needed to steady himself.

Don’t be afraid.

Don’t waver.

Don’t panic.

We—Jeokudae—will win.

With that thought, Hoeun pressed his lips together and resumed painting the kite with renewed determination.

Time passed.

Then suddenly, Mansu bent closer and whispered in Hoeun’s ear.

“Hey, look. Look.”

“……”

“The commander’s watching you again.”

At those words, Hoeun looked down the mountain.

Far below, Taemuk stood with his shovel stabbed into the ground.

He was looking this way.

The distance was enormous.

It was impossible to know for sure.

But because Mansu said it—

it really felt like Taemuk was looking straight at him.

Hoeun blinked.

Then slowly raised a hand above his head.

He gave a small wave.

A moment later—

Taemuk waved back.

Hoeun’s brows lifted into an arch.

Well…

Taemuk’s vision was excellent.

Even if Hoeun could barely make him out, Taemuk could probably see them clearly.

…Then had he seen him crouched here this whole time?

Had he seen him acting anxious and foolish too?

The thought made Hoeun press his lips together.

Then he waved more enthusiastically.

Mansu chuckled.

“Oh wow. The commander’s practically grinning ear to ear.”

“Can you really see that?”

Hoeun looked at him in surprise.

Was Mansu’s eyesight that good too?

Mansu shrugged.

“No need to see.”

“It’s obvious.”

Then he smirked.

“Dongja noona looks at me like that too.”

The expression was so shamelessly smug and ridiculous that Hoeun burst out laughing.

“Yes.”

He smiled warmly.

“Dongja noona really treasures you a lot, hyung.”