SAFBIAN Ch 143

Chapter 143

“Throw it.”

Yungak’s voice broke through the silence. His gaze fixed on the house before him was utterly indifferent.

The lanterns were carried here in uncovered boxes to minimize their visibility. Iyeok ignited the oil-soaked cloth wrapped around the sticks, and flames instantly caught. As soon as he tossed them, the stacked dried grass burst into flames.

At the backyard of the mansion adjoining the mountain,

Yungak stood with Iyeok before the elder’s house of the village. For a mere beastly leader, his greed was astonishing; the house’s size rivaled that of a powerful noble’s mansion, which amused him.

‘Just as that fox claimed.’

Yungak could easily enter the elder’s mansion by coming down the mountain thanks to Bisol, whom Wonwoo had left as a hostage.

Bisol had spilled the village’s secrets—that the elder’s house was the largest and had a backyard touching the mountain, allowing easy access. Of course, this information had come after some threat and a little torture.

‘Are those half-beast fools just stupid?’

Who would fail to anticipate an intrusion and not build a fence? Nevertheless, he exploited this carelessness.

Crackle, crackle.

Yungak watched the flames leap from one to another. The fire slithered rapidly toward the mansion like a writhing snake. When the snake’s head bit into a building, it began to swell in size.

At his signal, flaming arrows flew from their hidden positions within Moran’s forces, falling haphazardly across the village. A dry wind blew, spreading the fire quickly.

“I was worried we might run short of arrows with the hurried preparations, but it’s enough.”

The fire was more than enough to burn down the entire village. After completing their task, Moran’s forces skillfully retreated and concealed themselves.

Yungak considered killing everyone in anger for Wonwoo’s betrayal, but wasting Moran’s power here was unnecessary. Iyeok quickly took the lanterns from the box at his feet, extinguished them, and stamped out the embers.

Soon after, startled voices of the awakened beastmen were heard.

“What’s going on!”

“Don’t lose your wits. Go fetch water quickly!”

Unaware of how or where the fire started, the beastmen could do nothing but rush to extinguish it. But when the whole village was ablaze simultaneously in several places, chaos reigned.

“See that, Iyeok? It burns well.”

After a series of frustrating and irritating events, this felt relieving. As Bisol said, the mansion had no one watching the backyard, making it easy to observe. Only distant shouts about the fire reached them faintly.

“…You should leave now.”

“Alright, alright.”

Though he wanted to watch longer, Iyeok kept urging him. Reluctantly, Yungak turned away.

‘Now, let’s see how he tries to escape.’

Not only did Wonwoo deceive him, but wasted a whole week’s time. Thinking of Wonwoo, Yungak’s eyes glinted blue.

Then suddenly—

Gasp, gasp!

Someone burst out from the mansion. Since they ran toward the backyard instead of the gate, it seemed they tried to escape via the mountain.

Iyeok instinctively moved to catch them.

“Kyaa, kyaaaak!”

The one who screamed and collapsed was Hori, with flaming red hair like fire.

A wide cloth was spread out in a place enclosed somewhat by lantern light. Two cushions and a low table were arranged atop it.

A young eunuch unfolded a wrapping cloth and took out items one by one. He placed a heavy inkstone, a water-filled water container, ink, and a brush on the table. After carefully grinding the ink on the inkstone, the eunuch disappeared.

When had he prepared all this? Amazed, Dori pressed his palm on the spot where he had been sitting.

“Here. Since you’re enjoying yourself, try doing this too.”

Haban handed over some paper.

The paper was a wish paper used for praying at the Lantern Festival. Long and narrow, it was originally meant to be hung on lanterns and fluttered in the wind like a tail when floating upward in the sky.

Dori looked at the paper quietly in his hands.

‘A wish….’

Being told to choose only one, how could he possibly? He had too many wishes to count. Stealing a glance at Haban, their eyes met suddenly.

“You’re spying again. They said to write what you want.”

“I- I just wanted to check if you’d already written yours!”

Dori spun around quickly, then crouched to hide from Haban’s sight before dipping the brush in ink. Still, he hesitated to write.

After all, there was no god to grant wishes.

But still, maybe—just maybe—there was the faintest hope. Cautiously, Dori began to write one carefully chosen wish.

Haban narrowed his eyes and watched when Dori finally moved his shoulder. Trying to hide it by bending down only made it easier to see from above.

Focused, Dori absentmindedly rubbed spilled ink with his fist, drawing a long black line. He jumped in surprise.

Soon, with a sour expression, Dori looked at Haban.

“…If the paper gets dirty, will my wish not come true?”

“That’s not it, but hand me what you’re holding and write on a new sheet.”

“Really?”

Haban handed him a clean sheet. While reluctant, Dori picked up a few more sheets. Meanwhile, Haban read the wish papers Dori had already written.

‘…I’ll have to teach him to write when we return to the palace.’

Until now, there had been no chance, but Dori’s handwriting was terrible. It was incomprehensible. Yet not wanting to hurt Dori’s feelings, Haban refrained from saying anything and instead added this to the list of things to do upon returning to the palace.

Meanwhile, Dori wrote another wish paper in Hangul. Though he naturally could read and write to the extent ‘Dori’ in the novel knew, he intentionally wrote it in Korean so Haban could not read it easily.

“It’s finished.”

Dori folded the paper tightly and turned to Haban.

“You just have to burn this and silently make your wish.”

Haban picked up one lantern and placed it beside them. Sliding the wish paper between bamboo slates, black smoke curled upward as the paper began to burn from the edges.

Originally, the Lantern Festival was an event where lanterns were floated on the river or sky lanterns were released to the heavens. However, no matter the precautions, floating lanterns touching riverbanks often caused fires, and sky lanterns sometimes fell onto the waterless ground causing large fires. Since becoming emperor, Haban forbade these practices.

Still, because it was an eagerly awaited event by the empire’s people, instead of eliminating it, the ceremony was altered: burning the wish paper attached to lanterns and extinguishing the light to make wishes.

‘Burning it worsens the air, though.’

Black smoke rose from the paper. Dori looked up at the sky as the smoke dispersed.

Right. Unlike his world, here the sky was very clean, so this might be alright.

After the paper was completely burned, Dori blew out the lantern’s flame. The bright light dimmed slightly.

“What did you write on the paper?”

Haban asked, tapping his rounded lips with his finger as he focused. Although the ceremony was prepared for Dori, seeing him close his eyes seriously and clasp his hands in prayer aroused curiosity about his wish.

“What did you write?”

“…”

“Look.”

Dori smiled with closed eyes, and Haban caressed his head. The clever fox was growing even smarter with each passing day.

“…Huh?”

On their way back home,

They left the remaining lanterns to the eunuchs and made only one lantern into a small lantern for Dori to hold. Suddenly, Dori collapsed to the ground. Alarmed, Haban immediately helped him up.

“No, no… look at that.”

Where Dori pointed bloomed a white flower that blossomed only at night. When Haban relaxed his hand, Dori crouched beside the flower to examine it carefully.

“Right. The root of this flower is good for stopping bleeding. I once used it—it was amazing how well it worked. Wait, Haban. Let’s dig this up and take it with us.”

Setting the lantern down beside them, Dori started digging the ground. Not digging as much as he wanted, he suddenly seemed to remember that he was not in his fox form.

Without saying a word, Haban kneeled next to Dori. Then, he began to dig alongside him.

“Pye…!”

Jipyeong, who was behind them, cried out in shock but quickly lowered his voice and trailed off.

“…Haban.”

“It’s okay. If there’s something you want to do, do it.”

In the past, he would have been angered at such hands getting dirty. After all, he had spent each day washing and softening his hands with lotions and oils.

But if forbidding him to touch soil would only discourage Dori, then Haban decided he must change. Though still displeased deep down.

As Dori carefully brushed away the dirt, mindful not to damage the root, he timidly asked,

“Haban, do you possibly remember anything else I said before, besides the Lantern Festival?”