By Zephyria 
Just then, one of the Devouring Ghouls strode toward a mother and daughter nearby. The creature’s belly was already bloated and full, yet it seemed hunger still gnawed at it, as it attempted to devour the pair.
Ho-eun gasped. He had to save them. He couldn’t just let a woman and a child die. Just as he was thinking that if Tae-muk hadn’t seen them, he would have to save them himself—
A black shadow flew in at a speed the eye could barely track.
Thwack.
He drove his knee straight into the side of the Devouring Ghoul’s head. The heavy blow shattered the creature’s teeth like glass and crushed the Helmet Bone, which was as hard as iron. However, the Devouring Ghoul did not die. Though the strike was powerful enough to make its entire body ripple, it didn’t die instantly because its brain remained intact. With its face torn to shreds, the Devouring Ghoul flung its maw wide toward Tae-muk and let out a furious shriek.
Kieeeeeek!
Of course, Tae-muk was not intimidated. Instead, he thrust his hand into the wide-open maw of the Devouring Ghoul, gripped its teeth, and wrenched them upward. Crack. The Helmet Bone was completely severed from the jawbone, and soon, the creature’s cerebral fluid splattered downward.
The Devouring Ghoul’s body hit the ground with a thud, collapsing forward.
“Haa…”
Ho-eun let out a sigh of relief. He then scanned the mother and daughter with his eyes to check if they were injured. In doing so, he unconsciously took a step forward.
Crunch.
Something beneath his foot broke. Ho-eun thought instinctively that he felt as if he had stepped on something similar once before. However, he couldn’t remember what it was. He wasn’t even sure if he had actually done so. Ho-eun had lived too sheltered—or rather, too confined—a life to have stepped on such things.
Regardless, he felt a strange sense of déjà vu.
“…”
Ho-eun glanced down. Even then, he couldn’t tell what he had stepped on. The object, half-buried in the dirt, had been crushed to the point where its shape was unrecognizable.
Ho-eun withdrew his foot. As he did, something sticky clung to the sole of his shoe. Frowning, Ho-eun slowly bent down as if possessed and stared intently at it.
Should he call it a black pot, or perhaps a basket? Something of that shape had been crushed under Ho-eun’s foot. Inside were dark red, lump-like masses, and it emitted a musty smell.
Was it a basket that had held food? Was it one of their belongings? No, it had been buried in the dirt. Tangled almost as if fused with the tree roots, it seemed to have been there for a very long time. It felt as though it had been buried under the snow all winter and had only now been revealed.
“What is…”
What on earth was this?
Ho-eun stared at it for a long while, then reached out and gently brushed away the soil. Normally, he wouldn’t have even looked at such a thing, let alone touched it, but a strange curiosity arose. It felt as if he absolutely had to see it.
And when he finally cleared away all the dirt.
“…”
Ho-eun had to catch his breath for a moment.
Tae-muk scanned the surroundings, carelessly tossing aside the Helmet Bone he had ripped from the Devouring Ghoul. Eight Devouring Ghouls lay dead, reduced to a pulpy mess.
Even though there were no more ghouls to kill, Tae-muk stood still for a moment. He was listening to see if there were other Devouring Ghouls nearby or if any were rushing toward them, drawn by the scent of blood. Shortly after.
“You can move now.”
Tae-muk spoke, flicking the blood off his hand. At that, Ho-eun, who had been hiding behind a tree, popped out as if he had been waiting for the signal. He rushed toward the person who seemed to need bleeding control most urgently. He was one of the people who had been fighting the ghouls, and a large chunk of his flank had been torn away. Ho-eun couldn’t tell if he was a God of War or an ordinary person, but for now, the bleeding had to be stopped.
“You’re okay now. Please calm down. All the Devouring Ghouls are dead. Ah, don’t close your eyes. You have to stay conscious. I’ll call the old man—no, the doctor—right away. So please, just hold on a little longer.”
As he spoke, Ho-eun took a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the wound. However, the man gripped Ho-eun’s wrist and said something.
“Намайг биш, өөр хүнийг түрүүлж туслаарай.”
At those words, Ho-eun froze.
“What… do you mean…?”
Then, the man shouted something else that Ho-eun could not understand.
“…Are you not from the Korean Empire?”
Ho-eun asked back with a bewildered expression.
* * *
“Goodness, it hasn’t even been that long since the room emptied and another one’s filled… No time to rest, no time to rest at all.”
The old man groaned as he ran between the rooms. Medics scurried along behind him. Their hands and clothes were drenched in blood.
Sitting on the porch of the Medical Station and watching them, Ho-eun let out a thin sigh.
They had brought the people rescued from the forest to the garrison. He knew he shouldn’t just bring anyone into the Crimson Rain Brigade garrison, and he was worried especially since they weren’t people of the Korean Empire, but their injuries were so severe that there was no time to move them to another town.
Regardless, as a matter of human decency, he couldn’t just stand by and watch people die.
“I wonder why they were there? There are no towns or villages in this vicinity…”
Ho-eun asked, his gaze fixed on the room. Beside him, Tae-muk, who was smoking a cigarette, answered with a slight lisp.
“There are quite a few towns or villages that aren’t marked on the map. Something that was there yesterday might be gone today, and something that wasn’t there yesterday might be there today.”
A thick needle was inserted into his wrist. He was in the middle of donating blood for the injured. Because of this, he had to stay put here for a while.
“I see.”
Ho-eun, who was holding Tae-muk’s hand, gave a small nod.
“Then those people must have come from quite far away. The Crimson Rain Brigade has scouted this area dozens of times, and there were neither people nor Devouring Ghouls.”
“Probably. It seems certain they aren’t from our country, right?”
“Yes. It seems so. We can’t understand each other’s language, so I don’t know how we’ll communicate…”
“…”
Tae-muk clicked his tongue while holding the cigarette. He had rescued all sorts of people—he’d even rescued cows, horses, dogs, and cats—but this was the first time he had rescued a foreigner. It had been a long time since the neighboring countries had fallen. He exhaled a puff of cigarette smoke through his teeth.
“…”
Ho-eun was staring at the needle in Tae-muk’s wrist. Watching the blood flow through the transparent tube looked quite painful. Even though it was nothing compared to being torn apart by a Devouring Ghoul, it still looked that way to him.
If they weren’t outside, he would have just hugged him. But since there were many eyes watching, he could only hold his hand.
Ho-eun wiggled his fingers, interlocking them with Tae-muk’s. Not satisfied with that, he sat pressed tightly against his side.
Tae-muk stared at Ho-eun’s profile and thought. He wanted to slurp up those white cheeks in one bite. He thought that licking those fluttering eyelashes one by one would probably taste wonderful…
Oblivious to this, Ho-eun smoothed out the clothes beneath his backside, gathered his knees neatly, and asked in a pleasant voice.
“Are the other refugees in the kitchen?”
“Yeah. I told them to let them eat first.”
“I’d like to meet them…”
“Let’s go once this is all drawn out.”
“Yes.”
Ho-eun nodded. Since they would likely be in the middle of their meal if he went now, it seemed better to wait. Just as they were strangers to him, he was a stranger to them, so he should give them time to adjust.
Ho-eun held Tae-muk’s hand and remained still for a while. Then, around the time the old man came and removed the needle from Tae-muk’s arm, he suddenly let out a short cry of “Ah!” He then made a sorrowful face, his eyes drooping. Tae-muk raised an eyebrow as if asking what was wrong.
“I didn’t get to see the azaleas.”
“Ah.”
Tae-muk let out a dry exclamation. They had been on their way for a walk. It occurred to him belatedly. Tae-muk’s goal had been to go for a walk with Ho-eun, not the walk itself, so he hadn’t paid it any mind.
But Ho-eun seemed quite disappointed.
“What should we do? Azaleas wither quickly, so we might not be able to see them next time…”
“Go tomorrow.”
“Will there be time tomorrow? Don’t we have to escort the refugees to another town?”
“If we can’t, we’ll see them next year.”
“Next year?”
“Yeah. Next year. Why wouldn’t they bloom next year if they bloom every year?”
Tae-muk answered indifferently.
“…”
Ho-eun blinked slowly and looked at him. Next year. The words felt strangely poignant. After all, the battlefield was a place where not even tomorrow’s safety was guaranteed, let alone next year.
Next year…
What would we look like then? Would we still be here? Or would we be somewhere else? What would happen to the Devouring Ghouls? Would we have succeeded? Or failed? Many worries and expectations rushed in, but the most concerning thing was, naturally, this.
“…Will you still go for walks with me next year?”
Whether he would still be with Tae-muk then.
Ho-eun had asked out of worry, but Tae-muk wore an expression as if he were listening to nonsense.
“What… Why are you saying something so obvious?”
He felt no worry, no anxiety. He was filled with conviction, as if a future where they weren’t together was impossible. At that, Ho-eun felt the churning anxiety settle completely.
He smiled slightly and gripped Tae-muk’s hand tighter.
“Then let’s go see them next year.”
Ho-eun was already looking forward to the azaleas that would bloom next spring. His feet, dangling below the porch, swung back and forth.