BW C244

Chapter 244

“Young Master!”

Hoeun busily assisted the medics, doing small tasks like delivering clean water, washing bandages, and bringing medicine. Then a familiar voice called out to him. Before even confirming who it was, Hoeun’s face instantly brightened. He recognized the owner of the voice.

“Sergeant!”

When he turned around, he saw Gilsang entering the encampment. He wasn’t riding his horse but leading it by hand, and several wounded soldiers were draped across the horse’s back. It looked like he had stopped by the battlefield to transport the injured.

Hoeun hurried over to help unload them. Though in truth, he lacked the strength to do much more than pick up torn uniform scraps and fallen military boots.

“We came too late, didn’t we? We ran into a group of Shikgoe on the way here… I’m sorry.”

Gilsang spoke while carrying a wounded soldier toward the medical tent. His brows twisted as he looked at the rows of injured men filling the encampment. He seemed to feel guilty. Following close behind, Hoeun quickly shook his head.

“No. You came at exactly the right time. But you encountered Shikgoe… Are you hurt anywhere? Is Seongim alright too?”

“Yes. We’re fine.”

Gilsang denied it, and Seongim shook his head as well. Dirt and dust stained their uniforms, but neither appeared injured.

“Are you alright, Young Master?” Gilsang asked.

Hoeun gave a small nod.

“Yes. Noona Dongja stayed by my side the whole time.”

As he spoke, he glanced off to the side. Dongja was carrying two treated wounded soldiers, one in each arm, moving them elsewhere. Mansu sat in a corner, attaching arrowheads to shafts with his single remaining arm.

“I should have stayed by your side… I’m sorry.”

“No, you had your mission. But… did you come up from below?”

“Yes.”

“Then… did you happen to see the General? I haven’t been able to find him at all…”

At that, Gilsang raised his brows in surprise.

“Isn’t he here? I haven’t seen him either…”

It was a strange answer. They hadn’t seen Taemuk below either? That made no sense. As dread slowly weighed down the corners of Hoeun’s eyes—

“Young Master! Young Master Hoeun! Where are you?!”

Someone else called for him. No—not called. Searched for him. Hoeun flinched in surprise. It felt strange, being searched for by others.

It made sense. Hoeun wasn’t exactly a “useful” person in Jeokudae. He wasn’t strong enough to help build or destroy things, he wasn’t particularly good at cooking, and he couldn’t fight when Shikgoe appeared.

So why were they looking for him?

Hoeun turned around in confusion. There stood several soldiers drenched in an unusual amount of blood. They were carrying something. Blood poured from it in heavy streams, so forcefully that it seemed to gouge into the ground.

“….”

Hoeun stared at it silently. He couldn’t tell what they were carrying. It didn’t look human—the shape was too… grotesque. Torn apart, ripped open in too many places to bear looking at.

The soldiers came closer.

“Young Master!”

Hoeun only blinked like a fool.

Then, when they finally reached him, Hoeun recognized what it was. The thing soaked in layer upon layer of blood until it had turned from red to nearly black. The military boots in his arms slipped from his grasp and dropped to the ground.

“…General?”

What the soldiers were carrying—

was Taemuk.

Broken beyond recognition.

“Kh…”

A tent was hastily set up, and the soldiers laid Taemuk inside. It wasn’t for his protection. It was because there was no good in letting the other soldiers see him in such a ruined state.

Taemuk lay on a single cloth spread over rough, uneven ground. He couldn’t even breathe properly. Blood kept spilling from his mouth. Sometimes it clogged both his throat and airway, making his shredded chest convulse violently as he choked.

“….”

Hoeun stood there with a hollow expression, staring at him. Now he understood why he hadn’t been able to find Taemuk. Why even Gilsang hadn’t seen him.

He had become that small.

That ruined.

Taemuk had been injured many times before. Not that Hoeun had ever gotten used to it, but he had thought he wouldn’t panic as much anymore. At the very least, he believed he could hide it.

But Taemuk’s current condition was beyond shocking.

Half his body was practically gone.

It was too cruel. Too horrifying. Too terrifying to even describe.

How had Taemuk ended up like this?

Why hadn’t he come sooner?

Why only now?

Countless questions and emotions surged through Hoeun at once. But soon, he understood. He had no choice but to.

Taemuk must have fought without rest. Splitting Shikgoe apart with his blade. Crushing skulls with his hands. Saving soldiers. And all the while, he must have been bitten apart piece by piece.

And when he could no longer move his limbs…

Perhaps he had even used his own body as bait.

How else could his massive, indestructible body have ended up like this?

Only after seeing the reinforcements arrive must he have finally allowed himself to collapse, finally arriving before Hoeun.

Hoeun had to understand that.

He couldn’t resent Taemuk’s sacrifice.

Couldn’t resent that devotion.

“General…”

Hoeun stared blankly at the unconscious Taemuk when several medics rushed into the tent and passed him.

Hoeun thought they would treat him somehow. Stop the bleeding. Disinfect the wounds. Anything.

Instead, they stripped away Taemuk’s ruined clothes and immediately poured water over him.

The water was clear when poured.

By the time it ran off Taemuk’s body onto the floor, it was bright red.

One bucket wasn’t enough to wash away all the dried and tangled blood, so they poured bucket after bucket.

Taemuk twisted his head with a pained expression. Was it painful? Was he cold?

Or perhaps he couldn’t feel the water at all.

Perhaps every sensation his body could register was already drowned in unbearable pain.

After pouring several more buckets over him, the medics draped a thick blanket over his ruined body and simply left, saying they had to tend to other wounded soldiers.

They performed no treatment at all.

Because there was no point.

Taemuk healed faster than anyone could treat him. When Hoeun wasn’t around, his healing slowed enough that medics had to force torn flesh back together. But now, there was no need.

Before even one full night passed, severed limbs would regrow, flesh would reconnect, and wounds would close.

Hoeun knew that.

Yet he still felt bitter and resentful watching the medics leave without even looking back. He wanted someone to lessen Taemuk’s suffering, even a little.

Then Hoeun’s eyes widened.

No.

Why was he expecting that from others?

He was here.

Taemuk’s Iin was here.

That’s right.

He would heal him.

He would take away all of Taemuk’s pain.

Clenching his jaw, Hoeun stepped forward.

But instantly, the hand gripping his wrist tightened like shackles. His body halted abruptly.

“No, Young Master.”

Dongja.

Since Taemuk had returned, she had held onto Hoeun’s arm the entire time. Whether she was restraining Taemuk or restraining Hoeun, it felt equally suffocating.

“Noona, let go.”

Hoeun spoke without taking his eyes off Taemuk.

Dongja’s grip did not loosen.

“Not now. Wait a little longer.”

“But…”

Something hot and heavy lodged itself in Hoeun’s throat, suffocating him. In that moment, he hated Dongja. And he hated himself even more for being unable to break free.

Then Taemuk suddenly made a horrible sound, like water boiling, and vomited blood again. His chest convulsed violently. The blanket the medics had placed over him darkened black-red with blood.

“….”

Hoeun bit down hard on his lower lip.

Taemuk’s body was in that state.

He was coughing up blood like that.

That impossibly strong man couldn’t even open his eyes.

And they were telling him to do nothing.

Taemuk was right there.

Close enough to touch.

Yet they told him not to.

Hoeun turned bloodshot eyes toward Dongja and spoke softly.

“Please let go. It’ll be alright.”

“Young Master. No. It’s dangerous.”

Dongja still refused.

The corners of Hoeun’s eyes slowly twisted with anguish. His breathing grew ragged, as though he had just finished running for miles. Then suddenly, a thick tear slid down his pale cheek.

“With… a body like that… how… how could he possibly hurt me? With a body like that… how could he possibly do anything bad to me… how…?”

Hoeun couldn’t even sob properly.

Only tears fell.

It made no sense.

Taemuk couldn’t even walk on his own anymore. Even if he lost control and tried to do something to Hoeun, he physically couldn’t.

Hoeun wanted nothing more than to hold his hand.

But Taemuk had lost so much of himself—

there wasn’t even a hand left to hold.