BW C235

Chapter 235

“Kieeeek!”

“Kak, kaaak, kkiiiiiik!”

Seeing the incoming attack clearly, the shikgoe lowered their bodies and tucked in their heads. Because of that, the flaming arrows struck their bodies instead of their heads. For a brief moment, flames flared up—only to die out pathetically.

The fire-arrow attack had failed.

But Taemuk showed no reaction.

They already knew shikgoe didn’t burn easily. This wasn’t their first or second time fighting them. Of course they had considered using fire before.

Compared to their size, shikgoe had little flesh. Their hides were tough, and most of their bodies were made of bone, making them difficult to ignite.

Even knowing that, they fired the arrows for another reason.

Most of the arrows this time hadn’t been aimed at the shikgoe at all.

They were aimed at the trees scattered across the land.

Flaming arrows lodged into trunks and branches, and with a sudden whoosh, fire spread. Crimson flames swallowed the trees almost instantly. This was thanks to the oil Jeokudae had coated them with before the shikgoe arrived.

Battles didn’t always happen in broad daylight. They couldn’t fight forever with flashlights in hand either.

So they had chosen to light the trees instead.

The tall, thick trees would burn bright and long. Through the night, into dawn, until daylight finally made fire unnecessary—they would serve as Jeokudae’s eyes.

As the trees blazed, the opposite bank lit up in an instant.

The shikgoe became fully visible under the bright light.

Meanwhile, Jeokudae remained swallowed in complete darkness.

They could see the enemy.

But the enemy couldn’t see them.

In the meantime, Taemuk returned his focus to the egg.

Taking a flashlight from a nearby soldier, he shone it onto the babies. They wriggled uneasily, seeming to dislike the light, and crawled deeper inside.

Taemuk stared at the thousands of squirming babies, wondering what to do.

Killing them one by one would obviously take far too much time.

After observing the egg for a while, Taemuk stepped back half a step and ordered a soldier.

“Try fire.”

“Here?”

“Yeah.”

The soldier hurried up from the pit and brought back a torch.

Then he pressed it against the egg.

Nothing happened.

The spot directly touched by flame melted stickily, but it didn’t catch fire.

Thinking maybe it needed more, the soldier shoved the entire torch into the egg.

The fire seemed to burn for a moment—

Then fizzled out.

“….”

Taemuk folded his arms and stared at the egg.

A soldier cautiously spoke.

“What if we just throw it into the river?”

“The river…”

At first glance, it sounded like a good idea.

But they needed to be careful.

A single wrong judgment could lead to disaster.

What would Hoeun say in a moment like this?

If it were him…

“I don’t think that would kill them. That slime resembles water too much. Even if it flows into the West Sea, it’ll eventually reach land somewhere. Then they’ll grow by feeding on people there. If we’re unlucky, that land could even be near Hanyang.”

That’s what he’d say.

Just imagining Hoeun’s soft voice brought a smile to Taemuk’s lips.

Suppressing it with a small cough, he shook his head.

“No. We can’t just discard it. We need to kill them for sure.”

“Then what do we do?”

“What else? Kill them one by one.”

The soldier sighed heavily through his nose, already exhausted by the thought.

He called the others and relayed the order to extract the shikgoe from the egg.

The soldiers rushed in at once.

“Krrrkk… kaaak!”

“Kieeeek!”

“Krk, kkeuk, kieeek!”

As more babies died, the shikgoe on the opposite bank went into even greater frenzy.

Some, unable to control their rage, threw themselves into the river and were immediately swept away.

It was a threatening sight, but Jeokudae paid no mind.

They worked diligently, killing the babies.

Even so, the babies fought desperately to survive—or perhaps to feed.

They snapped their jaws onto soldiers’ hands and forearms.

One even bit off a soldier’s finger.

Small as they were, shikgoe were still shikgoe.

“Tch… fuck…”

One baby latched onto Taemuk’s wrist.

Though tiny, its sharp teeth pierced his skin.

Taemuk grimaced deeply.

He grabbed it and crushed it instantly.

Watching blood well from the wound on his wrist, he cursed under his breath.

Then he wiped away the thick slime smeared all the way up his forearm and looked around.

Over a hundred soldiers were extracting baby shikgoe from the egg.

The pit had become filled with sticky mucus.

Every step sank like walking through a swamp.

Their clothes were soaked and clammy.

The slime clinging to their collars felt like it was choking them.

And on top of that, there was the nauseating stench causing headaches.

Taemuk desperately wanted to strip naked and dive straight into the river.

But he clenched his teeth and endured.

The world had grown strangely quiet.

The night had deepened, and both Jeokudae and the shikgoe across the Amnok River had entered a brief lull.

The river wind blew heavily.

Thanks to that, the burning trees roared even brighter.

And the stronger light let them observe the shikgoe more clearly.

Standing near the river with arms crossed, Taemuk watched them.

He didn’t fire arrows.

He didn’t provoke or lure them.

He simply observed.

The goal was to keep them here as long as possible.

After watching them for some time, Taemuk noticed something.

The spheres—the ones carrying eggs—had moved far back.

Earlier, they had been spaced out among the ranks.

Now they had retreated all the way to the rear.

It looked as if they were trying to protect their precious young from Jeokudae’s interference.

Taemuk let out a mocking snort.

Those bastards had probably devoured enough infants, children, and pregnant women to build a mountain.

Yet they treasured their own offspring.

Disgusting.

“Bastards…”

I hate them.

I’ll kill every last one.

As he narrowed his eyes, someone approached from behind.

“Captain.”

It was the cook.

A basket full of rice balls hung from his shoulder.

“Mm.”

Taemuk extended his hand without looking away from the shikgoe.

The soldier placed a rice ball in his hand.

Then he added casually—

“The young master made these himself.”

At those words, Taemuk instantly pulled back the blood-covered hand he had been about to use.

“…Himself?”

The soldier nearly dropped the rice ball.

He gripped it tightly and nodded.

“Yes. Himself. With Chilbok.”

Taemuk blinked quickly.

Then he muttered—

“Wait.”

Without warning, he strode straight toward the river.

The shikgoe across the bank became alert, screeching in response.

Taemuk ignored them.

He bent down and scrubbed his hands vigorously in the river.

Once clean, he returned to the soldier.

The soldier stared blankly.

Then, when Taemuk held out his hand, he passed him the rice ball.

“He made this himself…”

Holding the rice ball, Taemuk glanced into the basket.

Round rice balls sat nestled together.

His was noticeably bigger and more compact.

Taemuk laughed under his breath.

Fuck. He’s being cute again.

Imagining Hoeun—who had been raised so delicately he probably didn’t even know how to steam potatoes—sticking close to Chilbok and carefully pressing rice into shape just to make something for him…

Taemuk couldn’t stop smiling.

He stared at the rice ball for a long moment.

His gaze was so warm it resembled someone doting on a beloved puppy.

At this rate, he looked ready to raise the rice ball itself.

“What about Hoeun? Did he eat?”

Still staring at the rice ball, Taemuk asked.

He strained his ears, trying to catch even the slightest sign of Hoeun.

But the distance was too great.

The roaring river, the wind, the soldiers, and the hundred thousand shikgoe made it impossible.

The soldier answered immediately, as if he had prepared for this question.

“Noona Dongja made sure he ate.”

“Dongja?”

“Yes. At first the young master said he had no appetite and refused, but Noona Dongja persuaded him and made sure he ate properly. She said very proudly that there’s absolutely nothing for Captain to worry about.”

“Good.”

Taemuk could practically picture the two of them arguing.

He smiled faintly and opened his mouth to eat the rice ball.

Then suddenly—

He froze.

“….”

A strange sound reached him.

Skrrk… skrrk…

It was familiar.

The sound of shikgoe claws scraping against dirt as they ran.

Taemuk stared across the river.

Far beyond the reach of the firelight, he spotted them.

Dozens of shikgoe moving quickly through the crowd.