By Zephyria 
Tae-muk sent the cook away and called another soldier over, gesturing with his chin toward the moving Devouring Ghouls.
“A few of them are moving over there.”
“The Devouring Ghouls, sir?”
The soldier stood on tiptoe and looked in the direction Tae-muk was pointing.
“Nothing they can catch onto upstream, right?”
“Yes. Not only the bridge, but everything that could be used as a bridge has been destroyed. The debris was all swept downstream. They won’t be able to cross easily.”
“And our boys who were guarding the dam above?”
“They have already returned.”
“…….”
Tae-muk’s eyes narrowed slightly before returning to normal. He didn’t think anything unexpected would happen, but one never knew. After contemplating while deeply sweeping the inside of his cheek with his tongue, he gave an order.
“Still, just in case, follow them.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t forget to take bows. If they start acting strange, just kill them.”
“Yes, understood.”
With a quick bow, the soldier hurried back. As he called out to the others, some soldiers brought horses, and others brought bows. Soon, a few agile soldiers leaped onto the horses. Then, with the clatter of hooves, they galloped off to pursue the Devouring Ghouls across the river.
“…….”
Tae-muk watched the fleeing Devouring Ghouls. They likely knew that we had been lying in ambush waiting for them. They probably anticipated that crossing the river might lead to another attack. Since they couldn’t afford to lose any more of the main force or their ghoul whelps, they must have gone to find another route.
But there would be no other way. The further upstream they went, the stronger the current and the deeper the water. Even if they managed to cross, we wouldn’t just stand by and watch.
Tae-muk sat down, using the head of a nearby dead Devouring Ghoul as a chair. Then, while looking at the ghouls on the opposite bank, he took a large bite of a rice ball.
Hard grains of rice, salty fermented seafood—it wasn’t a particularly special taste.
Tae-muk chewed it vigorously, then suddenly let out a soft hiss, clicking his tongue. He gazed intently at the rice ball as if he were looking at someone’s face and murmured.
“I miss him.”
It hadn’t even been a day since he last saw him, and yet.
Ho-eun, who had been helping the soldiers make rice balls, hurried back to the camouflage tent with Dong-ja just before dawn. While they could move without being spotted by the Devouring Ghouls at night, they had to be careful once the sun rose.
Because we—that is, the group consisting of wounded soldiers, ordinary people, and Bondmates—were the ‘weak point’ of the Crimson Rain Brigade. And among them, Ho-eun was the most fatal weakness.
“Can’t see well, right? Take my hand.”
As Ho-eun crawled down the slope, Dong-ja reached out her hand to him.
“……Thank you, Noona.”
Ho-eun smiled awkwardly and took her hand. Soon, he and Dong-ja entered the camouflage tent. The narrow, low tent was uncomfortable, but since it was a tent, it was warmer and quite cozy compared to the outside. It felt as though he had entered a safe space.
Shifting his body to get settled, Ho-eun naturally picked up the telescope and scanned the riverbank.
“…….”
Tae-muk was still sitting in front of the river, perched on a Devouring Ghoul’s head. From Ho-eun’s perspective, only his broad back was visible, and that back was indescribably reliable. The other soldiers of the Crimson Rain Brigade likely felt the same.
But at the same time, he felt a bit sorry for him. The river breeze must be cold… he must be exhausted from the standoff that lasted all night…. He couldn’t help but wish he could hold his hand, even for a moment. After all, he was Tae-muk’s Bondmate and his lover.
Ho-eun watched Tae-muk’s back for a while, then moved the telescope around to survey the surroundings. The abandoned pits were filled with yellowish mucus. Inside were the carcasses of Devouring Ghouls and their whelps.
“…….”
Seeing this, Ho-eun faintly wrinkled his nose. While it was not morally right to harm the offspring of animals, let alone humans, the Devouring Ghouls were an exception. Once they grew, they would eat people. Moreover, one of them had insolently bitten Tae-muk’s wrist.
After twisting his lips slightly, Ho-eun looked across the river. The Devouring Ghouls showed no significant movement.
He guessed they were waiting for the current to subside. Earlier, a few ghouls had moved upstream and the Crimson Rain Brigade soldiers had followed them; seeing as only the soldiers returned, it seemed the ghouls had died without being able to do anything.
Ho-eun’s telescope scanned every corner of the area. Eventually, it returned to Tae-muk. Tae-muk remained exactly as he was, without a single movement. Just as Ho-eun was inwardly admiring how he could do that—
“Do you think the Captain is sleeping while sitting up?”
Dong-ja, who had been fidgeting with a chocolate wrapper, spoke casually. At the trivial joke, Ho-eun let out a chuckle before he could stop himself.
“If he is going to sleep, I wish he would come over here and sleep.”
“Right? I don’t know why he’s sitting there so uncomfortably.”
Dong-ja giggled. Ho-eun smiled softly along with her. Joking with Dong-ja like this seemed to clear his foggy mind.
In truth, Ho-eun was a bit tired. From the moment the black kite first flew—when the vanguard of the Devouring Ghouls appeared—until now, he hadn’t closed his eyes for a single moment. However, he didn’t feel like sleeping. What kind of lunatic sleeps in the middle of a war?
As Ho-eun put his eye back to the telescope to observe the ghouls—
“Young Master, aren’t you sleepy?”
Dong-ja asked. Ho-eun nodded immediately without hesitation.
“Yes. I am fine.”
“Aww… you can sleep if you’re tired.”
“How can I do that when everyone else is suffering?”
“If anyone else dozes off, you should smack the back of their head. But you’re fine, Young Master. You can sleep.”
At those words, Ho-eun slowly lowered the telescope and looked at Dong-ja.
“Why am I fine?”
Because he was a nobleman? Or because he was Tae-muk’s Bondmate? He expected such reasons, but Dong-ja gave an unexpected answer.
“I heard that if you don’t sleep properly, you get mouth sores and nosebleeds.”
“……How did you know that?”
Ho-eun’s eyes widened. He had never shown his nosebleeds or mouth sores to anyone outside; how could Dong-ja know? But Dong-ja spoke in a nonchalant voice.
“The Captain grumbles about it all the time. ‘The Young Master’s mouth sores are acting up again,’ ‘He had a nosebleed this morning’… and so on.”
“…….”
“If those mouth sores and nosebleeds were Devouring Ghouls, he would have caught them and served them in a bowl long ago.”
“Ah…….”
Ho-eun’s face turned dark. He thought things like nosebleeds and mouth sores could be hidden and wouldn’t be a burden. He never imagined Tae-muk would talk about it.
“I… have… caused… trouble again.”
Ho-eun hung his head low as if he had been beheaded. At this, Dong-ja pulled her chin in as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.
“Goodness, how is that causing trouble?”
“Still…….”
How cumbersome is a being who causes worry, receives consideration, and must be protected? Especially on a battlefield…. Ho-eun almost gagged. He felt disgusted by his own state. As he let out a deep sigh that felt as if the ground were sinking—
Dong-ja stared intently at Ho-eun. Then, while lying down, she wiggled closer to him and whispered secretly.
“Want me to tell you what actually causing trouble is?”
“Actual trouble?”
“Yup.”
“What… is it?”
Now Ho-eun’s face went from dark to pale. Had he caused a greater burden than just being sick? No, there were too many to count. Just as he was preparing to be criticized, wondering which of them had upset Dong-ja—probably Man-soo getting hurt—Dong-ja suddenly burst into giggles.
“It’s funny thinking about it now, but a long time ago, I—”
“……You, Noona?”
“Yeah, me.”
“…….”
Ho-eun blinked. She wasn’t going to criticize him? Realizing this, his heart felt cowardly relieved. While he let out an unconscious sigh of relief, Dong-ja continued.
“When I first joined the Crimson Rain Brigade.”
“Yes.”
“I woke up in the middle of the night and was so-o hungry. So I went to the kitchen and stole some potatoes. Raw potatoes.”
“You did?”
With a peaceful face, Ho-eun wondered why it had to be potatoes; if she was going to eat something, why not rice or meat? Because Dong-ja was an important and great enough person to be allowed to eat such things.
“Yup. But the cooks knew like they were ghosts; they burst into the kitchen and screamed. Gosh, I was so startled. In my panic, I ended up kicking the firewood.”
“Oh dear, and then?”
“I set the kitchen on fire.”
“……A fire?”
“Yup.”
Ho-eun’s mouth opened slightly and then slowly closed. After thinking for a moment, he asked worriedly.
“Were you not hurt?”
“Was I… hurt?”
“Yes.”
“Who? Me?”
“Yes. You, Noona.”
There are many flammable things in a kitchen. Since they lit fires frequently, there must have been a lot of firewood piled up. That’s why he worried that the two of them might have been injured. However, Dong-ja looked at Ho-eun as if she had been slapped across the cheek.
“The kitchen caught fire, and that’s the first thing you ask?”
“……Then what should I have asked first?”
Ho-eun asked back, genuinely not knowing. What… should he have asked if the potatoes tasted good? Or if her hunger had improved? That didn’t seem right…. As he scratched his chin with the tip of his index finger, Dong-ja let out a hollow laugh.
“Young Master, you’re strange. Real-ly strange.”
At that, Ho-eun blinked rapidly, then let out a soft, airy laugh.
“I feel as though it has been a very long time since I last heard those words.”