SAFBIAN Ch 7

Chapter 7

 

The bridal chamber doors burst open.

Red and blue silks, lavishly hung without sparing, fluttered in the cold wind. Once the two foxes entered the chamber, the doors would be firmly shut and remain unopened for a week.

As if handling something precious, Wonwoo tightly held Hori’s hand and was about to step over the threshold when he absentmindedly stared into the distance.

In that moment, Wonwoo came to an abrupt halt.

Foxes had exceptionally sharp eyes. Even from afar, he could spot Dori.

White fur fluttered and reflected light atop a gray rock. The eyes that had been smiling warmly at Hori widened in shock.

Dori leapt down from the rock.

By the time the red foxes turned their heads in the direction of Wonwoo’s fixed gaze, the white fox was already gone, leaving only a large boulder behind.

Urging hands pushed the groom into the bridal chamber.

Huff, huff—

Dori ran swiftly down the mountain.

Without a moment’s pause, he leaped over large rocks and tangled tree roots. It felt as if Wonwoo would appear behind him at any moment to grab him by the scruff of his neck.

Tall, dense trees rushed past overhead. His breath, caught in his throat, came in harsh gasps as if it would cease altogether.

How long had he been running?

“Yelp!”

His paw seemed to catch on something, and with a sharp cry, Dori tumbled down.

He instinctively curled his body, and thanks to his thick fur, it didn’t hurt. But the spinning view made him dizzy.

The fox quickly got up.

Shake—he shook his head, and again—shook his entire body. A leaf fluttered above his head and landed back on top of him, but he didn’t even notice it.

“Hah, hah…”

‘This should be far enough.’

Panting heavily, Dori darted his eyes around. He had run so frantically that he had no idea where he was. Tall trees densely surrounded him in all directions, making it even harder to tell.

‘I can’t run anymore, I’m exhausted.’

His overworked legs trembled as the strength drained from them. His throat burned from how hard he’d been concentrating and running.

Dori plopped down at the base of a tree, where moss he couldn’t name grew thickly. As the tension released, his body momentarily felt limp.

‘What the hell kind of misery is this, all because of that bastard!’

Dori slammed his front paw down on the snow-covered ground.

He was furious and felt wronged. All that he had worked hard to gather was taken from him, and his entire plan was ruined.

‘My money! My house! My land!’

The dreams he had envisioned shimmered before his eyes like illusions before vanishing. Dori glared fiercely in the direction of the red fox village, now too far away to see, then relaxed his eyes.

‘Still, what’s already been taken can’t be helped. I can’t go back and retrieve it anyway. That’s not what’s important right now.’

So what now?

He was at a loss. He had left the village without even deciding where to go, making him feel like he was drifting alone in a vast ocean.

Besides, the mountain would grow colder and more dangerous at night. Even with a fox’s body, he didn’t have the courage to spend the night alone in the mountains.

Dori looked up at the sky, which appeared bright blue through the leaves.

‘No, maybe this was actually a good thing.’

Thinking positively, it even felt like an opportunity.

In the original story, the first meeting between Haban and Dori took place when the sun was setting and the forest was dark. Maybe leaving early like this and avoiding a run-in with Haban altogether was a better plan.

‘I’ve got about half a day, so I shouldn’t just sit here. I should get moving.’

There must be a place to hide somewhere.

Dori stood up from where he had been sitting and shook off the bits clinging to his backside. His plump tail flicked sharply.

Now then, where exactly was this?

‘I’m pretty sure I’ve passed the boundary of the red fox village a while ago.’

The harsh wind that had been smacking his face had quieted as if it had been a lie. The air was warm and soft. The leaves around were rounded rather than pointed. It seemed he had almost reached the foot of the mountain.

But maybe because he was hungry—

The clusters of yellow fruit hanging from the branches dazzled his eyes. Beside them, orange peels exuded a sweet, juicy scent.

‘Oh? That looks just like a tangerine.’

Though, of course, it couldn’t be.

Dori approached as if hypnotized. When he poked at it with a front paw, dew that had gathered all night on a broad leaf at the top of the tree dripped onto his head.

Just then, a bird startled from the tree he had touched and flew away with a flutter.

That was the moment.

Shriek—!

A sharp sound sliced through the air. Too late, Dori’s sensitive ears twitched, and he instinctively jumped.

Thwack!

An arrow whizzed past him and embedded itself deep into a tree trunk with a vicious sound.

The arrow bore a red fletching.

‘…Ha, Haban!’

His golden eyes wavered as they caught sight of the red fletching symbolizing the Emperor.

[Dori couldn’t believe it, staring wide-eyed at his leg.

Sticky red blood, hot as if just drawn from a beating heart, trickled down his smooth, white skin. Overwhelmed by the pain that came moments later, Dori screamed and collapsed.

The red fletching!

The red fletching on the arrow that had pierced his flesh and bone trembled faintly, as crimson as his own blood.]

‘…No. That can’t be. No way.’

Dori denied reality and took a step back.

Now that he thought about it, things he had passed by without much thought began to register—trees bearing tiny red fruits the size of pinky nails, and the flat boulder beneath them, large enough to be a bed.

Frightened, his tail curled instinctively between his legs.

It dawned on him.

‘This is it! The place where he meets Haban!’

The setting the author had lazily sketched out to focus on their meeting!

[A small clearing surrounded by trees, with scattered red fruits and a solid rock.]

He was right there!

‘I must’ve lost my mind. How did I not realize this?’

There was no time to think. Just as he was about to turn around, he heard unfamiliar footsteps.

‘No way, are we meeting already? Just like this?’

Dori immediately crouched low and crawled into a dense bush to hide his body.

He trembled all over.

In the original, Dori had been sleeping on that rock when he sensed something suspicious and changed form. Hearing a human voice, he thought it safer to meet the stranger in human form.

But in his panic, he failed to hide his ears and tail, and Haban, who appeared shortly after, took him to the imperial palace upon discovering his beastman form.

From that point on, for the rest of his life…

‘Yeah, better to stay a fox, right?’

No matter how twisted Haban was, surely he wouldn’t feel any strange desires toward a fox.

Dori gulped dryly.

Rustle.

The approaching footsteps were soon accompanied by a low voice.

The place where countless men arrived amid a cloud of dust was the Emperor’s hunting ground.

The soldiers busily lit fires and erected poles with practiced ease. It wasn’t their first time—this had become almost a daily routine. Three tents were quickly set up.

‘That damn lucky bastard.’

Jipyeong grumbled to himself as he pictured Geumhu comfortably seated in a cushy chair inside the warm palace. But contrary to his assumption, the Chancellor Geumhu was being buried under the Emperor’s workload in his stead.

Unaware of the curses and resentment Geumhu harbored toward both him and the Emperor, Jipyeong trudged after his lord, who had once again gone out hunting.

Crackle, crackle.

As campfires lit up here and there, the chill eased a bit. After receiving a scouting report from a returning soldier, Jipyeong plopped down next to Haban.

“Isn’t it exhausting to come out like this every time?”

“……”

Haban didn’t respond and instead tossed more firewood into the flames. Whoosh—the fire blazed higher. Despite the sparks flying, he didn’t flinch, seemingly deep in thought.

‘What are you planning now?’

Jipyeong kept issuing orders to the soldiers while constantly glancing at Haban.

‘Do you understand? No matter what it takes, keep His Majesty in the palace today!’

Even if they had to say he had a cold or an upset stomach. Geumhu had said he’d cling to the Emperor’s robes if necessary, but what could a mere captain of the guards do?

Just then, Haban glanced up at the sky. Then, as if on a whim, he suddenly approached his horse, mounted, and galloped off without warning.

Their lord had always been unpredictable, but today was especially incomprehensible!

‘Damn it.’

Jipyeong cursed under his breath, recalling the Chancellor’s warning to never take his eyes off Haban. What danger could possibly befall the Emperor? He was a man who could defeat three shadow assassins on his own!

“Enough of you stay behind. Only the killers follow His Majesty!”

Neigh! The thunderous sound of hooves shook the ground.

Haban, who had become the 23rd Emperor of the Empire at a young age, carried out a massive purge shortly after ascending the throne. As soon as he took power, a bloodstorm swept through the palace.

Dozens of ministers died under torture, and some were beheaded and their heads hung from the castle walls.

They were all corrupt officials who had exploited the people.

However, the rumors that passed over the palace walls changed quietly and spread differently.

‘The Emperor has neglected state affairs, lost in wine and indulgence.’

It began with criticisms of his character.

People said that the reason he had once been deposed as Crown Prince was because the late Emperor had seen his incompetence and his debauched, violent nature.

The people cursed him as a tyrant or feared him as a mad ruler.

Even though the corrupt officials were gone and life had become more prosperous, whenever people gathered, they only whispered. Clearly, someone was fueling the unrest.

From mouth to mouth, the rumors spread faster. The tale that the Emperor had gone mad finally blanketed the entire Empire.

Yet Haban left those rumors alone. On the contrary, he pushed state affairs onto the Chancellor and went hunting almost every day.

Though ministers lined up to plead with him, fearing another bloodbath, all such appeals were passed straight to the Chancellor. For some unknown reason, the Emperor always headed to the same mountain.