By Zephyria 
At that, Ho-eun looked up at him with anxious eyes.
“Are you… going out again?”
“Probably.”
Ho-eun’s upper lip poked out like a beak before retreating. After thinking for a moment, he tugged firmly on Tae-muk’s clothes, pleading.
“I want to go with you.”
“That’s not possible.”
Tae-muk shook his head firmly. Ho-eun lowered the corners of his eyebrows, trying to persuade him.
“I—I won’t get sick… It’s spring now, so it’s not as cold as before. If I dress warmly…”
“That’s not why.”
“Then why?”
Seeing Ho-eun’s expression of complete incomprehension, Tae-muk gave a faint smile, cupped his cheek in his hand, and met his gaze.
“When I’m with you, I don’t feel sad or miserable. That’s why you can’t come.”
“…”
“I’ll be miserable for a little while longer.”
“…”
“And I’ll avenge the dead.”
“…”
At those words, Ho-eun could no longer be stubborn. He himself felt the weight of the deceased in his heart, making it hard to breathe; how much worse must it be for Tae-muk? If pain was his way of mourning, he had to let him go.
Lowering his eyes to the general’s epaulettes on Tae-muk’s shoulder, Ho-eun asked in a further sunken voice.
“When are you leaving?”
“Hmm…”
Tae-muk made a low sound in his throat as he pondered. Then, he gently took Ho-eun’s hand, which was wrapped in a handkerchief, and spoke.
“After I apply the medicine to the back of your hand.”
“…Yes. After the medicine.”
Ho-eun thought to himself: How long does it take to apply medicine? It’ll only be for a brief moment. If I had known, I should have knocked over a much larger pot of boiling water. If his entire forearm had been scalded red, he might have been able to keep Tae-muk by his side just a little longer.
Whether he knew of Ho-eun’s thoughts or not, Tae-muk spoke with a voice tinged with a thin smile.
“And well… since I’m already here, shall we have breakfast together?”
Ho-eun nodded eagerly.
“Yes. Let’s eat together. I want to eat together. I’m hungry. I can eat two bowls.”
“Is that so? Two whole bowls?”
Tae-muk laughed at the continuous chatter. Ho-eun laughed along and threw himself into Tae-muk’s arms. As he did, his silk hair tie brushed against the back of Tae-muk’s hand with a soft rustle, and the sensation was indescribably pleasant.
Truly. It felt good.
* * *
In Overlapping Time
“Where is Dong-ja?”
The morning meeting was held for the first time in a while. Tae-muk, sitting in the seat of honor and surveying the soldiers, asked. This was because the seats that were usually packed were empty—not only Man-soo’s spot, but Dong-ja’s as well.
“She is at the medical station,” Ho-eun replied in a small voice while opening his notebook. Ten full days had passed since the incident in the fir forest, but Man-soo had yet to regain consciousness. Naturally, Dong-ja had taken it upon herself to be a fixture in front of the medical station, waiting for him.
Tae-muk frowned slightly at the words, brushed his hair back from his forehead, and asked again.
“Did she eat?”
“Not yet.”
“…”
Tae-muk did not speak further. His face remained expressionless. However, Ho-eun knew he was worried about Dong-ja, as he had asked about her whereabouts every morning and evening.
As Ho-eun let out a low sigh, he suddenly realized the entire room had fallen silent. Gil-sang sitting beside him, Byeonguk sitting opposite, and the other soldiers were all keeping their mouths shut. Shadows hung over their eyes. It seemed everyone was worried about Dong-ja.
Man-soo was one thing, but Dong-ja was a particular cause for concern. Since a broken heart is often more piercing than a broken body, and everyone there had experienced the loss of someone precious, they knew well how agonizing and painful it was.
“Should I… go bring the lady?” Byeonguk asked, leaning his upper body toward Tae-muk.
“No need.”
Tae-muk shook his head briefly.
“Yes, then we shall begin the meeting.”
Byeonguk rose from his seat and attempted to move toward the map. However.
“Wait a moment.”
Tae-muk’s voice stopped him. At that, the gaze of everyone, including Ho-eun, turned toward him. Everyone straightened their heads and backs, focusing on Tae-muk’s words. Looking at them one by one, Tae-muk dropped his gaze. Then, he suddenly apologized.
“I am sorry. My apologies.”
At the short but heavy apology, the people in the room gasped simultaneously. And simultaneously, they protested.
“Why is the Captain apologizing?”
“Surely you don’t think the deaths of the men were your fault, Captain?”
“Please don’t apologize. Where were you playing while everyone was fighting? It’s not like you were hiding or running away, so why…”
“That’s right. How much blood did you shed, and how many pieces of your flesh were torn off…”
However, Tae-muk did not agree with their words. He didn’t even seem to be listening.
“I didn’t know the Devouring Ghouls were there. I should have… looked more carefully.”
His brow furrowed in distress as he rubbed his face with his palms in a dry wash. He let out a sigh so long and deep that the saliva in his mouth seemed to dry up. Yet, seeing this, the soldiers’ resistance grew even fiercer.
“That’s because those bastards didn’t make a single sound!”
“How on earth were we supposed to notice bastards hanging from the trees? Who could have imagined that…!”
“Exactly. I’ve never heard of a Devouring Ghoul lying in ambush by hanging from a tree in all my life!”
But Tae-muk shook his head firmly.
“No, I should have known.”
“…”
“Even if they made no sound, even if they left no trace, I should have known. At the very least, I should have been cautious.”
“…”
“But I wasn’t. I have no excuse.”
Tae-muk dropped his gaze once more.
“…”
Ho-eun watched Tae-muk quietly. He felt pity for the apologizing Tae-muk, but he also found him admirable. He knew that it was rare for a superior to admit fault in front of so many subordinates. At the same time, he could see how much Tae-muk had cherished the fallen soldiers, and how great a sense of loss and sorrow he felt over their deaths.
And the soldiers, feeling the same as Ho-eun, fell silent and lowered their heads.
“…”
“…”
A stifling silence weighed heavily on everyone. It felt as if they were submerged in water made of silence. Their vision was blurred, and breathing was difficult. As Ho-eun absentmindedly rubbed his eyelids, Gil-sang, who was beside him, spoke up.
“It’s been a long time. Since someone died.”
Then, another soldier nodded in agreement.
“True. It’s the first time since the Young Master arrived.”
“I suppose it’s because the Captain became ve-ery strong thanks to the Young Master.”
Startled by the sudden mention of his own name, Ho-eun could only roll his eyes. Then, Gil-sang looked at Tae-muk and said,
“I reckon that’s why we let our guard down. Believing the Captain would handle everything.”
Then, another soldier across from him nodded and picked up the thread.
“That’s right. I was the same. I thought, If a Devouring Ghoul appears, the Captain will know. He’ll handle it. He’ll save us. Thinking that, I just ran without a second thought while chasing those Eater Bugs.”
“It’s our fault. We were too… careless.”
Ho-eun felt a shock as if he had been hit in the back of the head by their words.
It was true. They had been careless. Because Tae-muk was so strong, they had simply trusted him.
Perhaps it was they who had instilled this sense of responsibility and guilt in Tae-muk. No, it certainly was them. Because they trusted and relied on him entirely, they had shifted all the danger onto him, and that was why Tae-muk was apologizing.
Realizing this, Ho-eun’s throat tightened. He clenched his white hand tight before releasing it, and spoke with his eyelids lowered.
“I… I was like that too. Since we were getting closer to the Devouring Ghouls’ lair, it was natural for their numbers to increase, but I naively thought that since the General was with us, nothing bad would happen, and it wouldn’t be dangerous.”
They should have planned the operation more meticulously. They should have prepared for and anticipated more. Instead, they had relied solely on Tae-muk and crafted a plan riddled with holes. It had been like that until now. It was a miracle that no one had died until this point. No, even that was thanks to Tae-muk.
As Ho-eun closed his eyes tightly from a surge of self-loathing and regret, Byeonguk, who had been silent, spoke up with a voice stronger and louder than usual.
“Still, through this operation, we have learned for certain. That we have grown close to their lair.”
At that, Gil-sang nodded vigorously.
“Right you are. This is definitely a great achievement.”
“…”
Tae-muk stared quietly at the two of them and the rest of the soldiers. Men who were apologizing for trusting their leader too much. He wondered if they had all gone mad. However, he couldn’t stop a small laugh from leaking out.
“…Fine. Let’s start the meeting.”
Saying so, Tae-muk crossed his arms and gestured to Byeonguk. Byeonguk quickly stood up and went to stand before the map.
“This operation concluded here, in the northern fir forest. Since we are close to the Devouring Ghouls’ lair, we must be cautious. Therefore, before we discuss the next operation, I believe it would be best to review this one.”
After saying this, Byeonguk paused for a moment and shifted his gaze to Ho-eun.
“Young Master, do you have anything to say regarding this battle?”
Ho-eun, who had been flipping through his notebook, suddenly straightened his back.
“Ah, may I speak first?”
“Please do.”
“Yes.”
Ho-eun turned slightly to face everyone. Then, without a single stutter, he began to speak in a clear voice.
“As Mr. Byeonguk said, it seems certain that we have drawn closer to their lair. As you all saw, the first thing the ambushing Devouring Ghoul killed was the very Ghoul we were chasing. It is the first time a Devouring Ghoul has killed another Devouring Ghoul.”