By Zephyria 
Regardless, Ho-eun was preoccupied with examining the carcass of the Devouring Ghoul, which was now heavily blanketed in snow. After rummaging through it here and there for a while, oblivious to the cold, he let out a sigh deep enough to sink the ground.
“I really thought I’d be able to find the Devouring Ghoul’s lair this time…”
“You can just do it again.”
“Would the next time be any different?”
“There’s no law saying it has to be the same.”
“…….”
Ho-eun gazed blankly at Tae-muk. He found Tae-muk’s indifference—which bordered on apathy—puzzling. Tae-muk was someone who had stayed on the battlefield longer than anyone else, and as such, he should have been sick to death of the Devouring Ghouls. It was only natural to feel frustrated by clues that seemed within reach yet remained elusive; how could he be so detached?
Or perhaps he was detached precisely because he had stayed so long. Had the battlefield become his daily routine? Was it because he knew no life other than a battlefield swarming with Devouring Ghouls?
Thinking that made his own frustration feel childish. Tae-muk was being so composed, so who was he to complain? Yes, it was greedy to expect to catch a Devouring Ghoul in a few months when they had been fighting them for over a hundred years.
Ho-eun forced a smile and nodded.
“Yes. There is no law saying it must be the same. I will think of another way. Shall we head back now?”
As he spoke, he lightly lifted the hem of his trailing silk robes. With the snow piled up to his shins, the long fabric was quite cumbersome. Just as he took a step toward Tae-muk—
“Already?”
Tae-muk asked, a slight frown crossing his face. Ho-eun, showing no sign of surprise, asked back in his characteristic soft voice.
“Is there something more you wish to see?”
“No, it’s not that…”
“…….”
Ho-eun waited quietly for the rest of the sentence. After a moment of hesitation, Tae-muk gestured with his chin toward the edge of the densely wooded forest.
“Over there, there’s a spot where the sun hits well. It’s less cold there.”
“…….”
“I’m not saying we have to go, just that it’s there.”
At those words, Ho-eun’s lush eyelashes fluttered. Soon, realizing Tae-muk’s intention, a faint smile played on his lips.
“Really? Since we’ve come this far, shall we take a stroll?”
“Well… it’s a bit of a hassle, but if you want.”
Tae-muk replied with feigned indifference. However, the corners of his mouth were lifted almost imperceptibly.
Ho-eun let out a puff of breath and laughed. He then trotted over to Tae-muk. After removing his leather gloves, he naturally took Tae-muk’s hand in his.
“…….”
Tae-muk looked down at Ho-eun and, this time without hiding his smile, squeezed his hand back.
Tae-muk carefully set down Ho-eun, whom he had been carrying. As Ho-eun’s feet sank into the snow, there was a soft shrrrk sound. Simultaneously, Ho-eun let out an unrestrained exclamation of admiration.
“Wow…”
On the way here, the trees had been densely packed the entire time, but here, a single giant tree stood tall. It had a thickness and height that seemed to combine four—no, six other trees. Because its branches stretched out so wide and long, it seemed other trees were unable to grow nearby.
In spring or summer, the lush leaves likely blocked the sun, but now in winter, having shed all its leaves, the sunlight poured straight down. The way the sunlight hung in clusters from the branches instead of leaves was unrealistically beautiful. While the rest of the forest was dominated by chilling whites and cold blues, this place alone was golden.
“It is surprisingly warm.”
Ho-eun held out his palm. As the palm, catching the sunlight, was dyed gold, he felt a warm sensation. Ho-eun wiggled his fingers, savoring the feeling.
It was so warm that his breath didn’t even mist. It was almost strange that the snow remained piled up without melting.
“Right?”
Tae-muk spoke with a look of pride. He remembered Ho-eun once mentioning that he liked sitting on the wooden veranda to soak up the sun. He had brought him here for that reason, and seeing him enjoy it so much made him feel proud.
Like a cautious squirrel, Ho-eun peeked here and there, exploring, before eventually beginning to walk a circle around the giant tree. Tae-muk didn’t bother following him, simply standing behind and watching.
Crunch, crunch, crunch.
The sound of Ho-eun’s footsteps on the snow continued rhythmically. Hearing it, the tension in Tae-muk’s brow relaxed.
He had felt this before, but Ho-eun’s footsteps were truly light. At the same time, they were neat and orderly. It was the kind of footstep that made one think, Is this what a nobleman or a scholar is like? Not to mention the sound of the snow being slowly crushed—crunch, soft-crunch, step-crunch—following his pace. It was ticklish yet sweet, truly pleasant to hear.
“How did you know about a place like this?”
Ho-eun, standing behind the tree, asked while peeking his head out.
“Just, while passing by…”
Tae-muk trailed off. He really had just seen it by chance while passing through, but strangely, he felt bashful. Lowering his gaze, he scratched the back of his neck.
Ho-eun gazed at Tae-muk intently.
“…….”
He saw it while passing by. In other words, he saw the sunlight falling here and thought of him. Did he remember that Ho-eun liked the sun and bring him here?
Once he thought that far, he couldn’t take his eyes off Tae-muk. As he continued to stare, Tae-muk eventually looked back at him.
“…….”
“…….”
The two locked eyes from a moderate distance. It was Tae-muk who moved first. He stepped forward, treading through the snow toward Ho-eun.
In the meantime, Ho-eun began circling the tree again. Tae-muk followed him, walking about half a lap behind.
After walking about three laps under the pouring sunlight, the snow near the tree was pressed flat by their footprints. Walking became easier, and the sound of their footsteps diminished.
For some reason, Tae-muk found this regrettable. It was because he wanted to hear Ho-eun’s footsteps more. After contemplating for a moment, he suddenly gave the tree a light tap with his fist. A very light tap, almost as if he were merely touching it.
Then, the tree trembled slightly, and the snow piled on the branches came cascading down.
Tae-muk had expected the snow to fall gently and beautifully. He had planned to watch as light snowflakes fluttered down and caught on Ho-eun’s lush eyelashes, and then watch the flustered man brush them away. He thought the ground would be covered in snow again, allowing him to hear Ho-eun’s footsteps once more.
However, the falling snow was nothing short of an avalanche. Because it was a large tree with thick and numerous branches, the snow poured down as if someone had dumped a bucketful directly onto him.
“Ugh…!”
Consequently, Ho-eun was buried in snow and fell flat on his face with a dull scream. Snow continued to crash down on top of him, cutting his scream short. Ho-eun’s small body vanished without a trace in an instant.
“Choi Ho-eun!”
Startled, Tae-muk rushed to Ho-eun. He then dug Ho-eun out of the snow. Soon, a dazed Ho-eun appeared. He looked like a stupid potato. A potato covered in snow instead of dirt.
“Even Chilbok would be stronger than you. To be taken down by mere snow, honestly…”
Despite his words, Tae-muk carefully brushed the snow off Ho-eun’s body with a worried expression. Ho-eun couldn’t snap out of it easily, as if he had been struck by lightning. Tae-muk examined him with a serious face. Did he fall ill again? I should get him to the old man quickly, he thought. Just then—
“Hahaha, hahahaha!”
Ho-eun burst into laughter. He laughed so brightly and radiantly. The snow piled on his crown, eyelashes, and the bridge of his nose fell away in soft showers. His clear voice soared high.
“…….”
Tae-muk stared blankly at the laughing Ho-eun. Ho-eun smiled often, but Tae-muk had never seen him laugh out loud. His wide-open mouth and the way his eyes curved deeply were quite different from what he had seen until now. Because of that, he couldn’t look away.
Ho-eun laughed for so long that the snow on his cheeks melted. Then, as if he were about to land on his backside in the snow, he suddenly flopped backward and lay flat. His Braided Hair was buried deep in the snow along with him.
“What are you doing?”
Tae-muk grabbed Ho-eun’s wrist to pull him up. But Ho-eun spoke with a beaming smile.
“This is the first time in my life I’ve been buried in snow like this.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Whenever it snowed, my parents wouldn’t let me leave the house. They were afraid I’d catch a cold.”
“…….”
“But it’s not as cold as I thought. It’s just like a cotton quilt.”
Ho-eun said this because he was happy. Because this moment was surprising, new, and joyful. However, Tae-muk’s face immediately turned serious.
“…You’re going to catch a cold?”
He asked in a low voice. Ho-eun’s fevers or colds were on a different level from those of ordinary people. He would suffer for five days, unable to even open his eyes properly; it was heartbreaking. Thus, it was impossible not to worry. Or rather, it would be more accurate to say he was afraid.
But Ho-eun replied, twisting his head to look at him.
“I won’t catch one.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because the General will hold me tight tonight.”
“…….”
“Then I won’t catch it.”
Ho-eun uttered something absurd, quite unlike himself.
“…….”
Tae-muk frowned with an expression that asked, What kind of nonsense is that? But Ho-eun just kept giggling, as if something were wonderful. Tae-muk stared at him for a moment, then, thinking to hell with it, he lay down beside him.