By Zephyria 
Ho-eun, startled, shot up and faced him. It truly was Tae-muk who had emerged from the dim forest. Yet, ironically, Ho-eun felt his heart plummet once more. He knew it wasn’t a Devouring Ghoul, but the fear remained.
“Ah… I, I apologize. I was a little surprised…”
“…”
Tae-muk didn’t respond to Ho-eun’s stammered apology. He simply stared intently at Ho-eun. The whites of his eyes were the only part of him not stained with blood, so Ho-eun could clearly read his gaze.
The piercing stare made Ho-eun lower his eyes, and in that instant, a drop of blood fell from Tae-muk’s chin.
“Blood…”
Tae-muk’s condition was far worse up close. His black military tunic looked glossy, as if it had soaked up a great deal of blood. He seemed unharmed as he stood there, but how had he become so covered in blood? Then again, the corpses of the Devouring Ghouls they had passed were quite gruesome.
So, he looks like this after every battle? No wonder he has that nasty rumor of being a demon.
Ho-eun stared at Tae-muk, forgetting his manners. Then, belatedly, he pulled a handkerchief from deep within his Durumagi and offered it.
“W-Would you like to wipe yourself?”
The handkerchief was pristine white, without a single stain. On one corner was a flower embroidered by his mother’s own hand. Ho-eun usually used it to wipe away sweat, mostly cold sweat. But.
“Get rid of it.”
Tae-muk rejected the offer with a cold voice. The white handkerchief fluttered at the brusque words.
“…”
Ho-eun gripped the rejected handkerchief tightly. Meanwhile, Tae-muk strode past Ho-eun.
“U-Um…”
Ho-eun tried to stop him, even though he had nothing to say. But Tae-muk moved with ruthless speed. After a moment’s hesitation, Ho-eun followed him, peppering him with questions about his well-being.
“I saw many Devouring Ghoul corpses on the way. I heard you dealt with them, General. Are you hurt?”
“…”
Tae-muk remained silent. Ho-eun bit his lower lip slightly.
Being ignored was something he was used to. That’s just you, what else can you do, what can a weakling like you do, that kind of disregard. But he wasn’t used to this kind of ignoring, where he was looked at but not seen, heard but not listened to.
Ho-eun wondered what he had to do for Tae-muk to look at him, and as he examined him, he noticed that the sleeve of his military tunic was torn. The tear stretched from his arm to his back.
Was he hurt? How badly? Had he been treated?
Ho-eun called out to Tae-muk again.
“General.”
“…”
“General!”
“…”
“Gener—ah!”
Ho-eun, hurrying to keep up with Tae-muk, tripped over a tree root protruding from the ground. The skirt of his military tunic billowed out like wings with a thud, making quite an unsightly sound, but Tae-muk didn’t stop for even a moment.
“…”
Ho-eun barely managed to lift his head and watch Tae-muk walk away. But Tae-muk didn’t turn back.
As the night deepened, soldiers began to enter the tents that had been set up, one by one. Some lay sprawled on the grass without even a Mattress, snoring loudly. Soldiers with weapons patrolled between the tents, standing guard.
“…”
Ho-eun, unable to find a place to settle, glanced around nervously, then carefully sat down between the roots of a tree that looked relatively comfortable and clean. The ground was hard despite the thick grass. It was uneven, and occasionally prickly.
It was uncomfortable, but… a little enjoyable. He could feel with his skin that he was outside, not at home. Ho-eun still couldn’t believe he was out in the world. Ever since he became a Bondmate, it felt like he was constantly dreaming.
“There are so many stars…”
Ho-eun leaned against the tree and looked up at the sky, then suddenly hunched his shoulders as a night breeze swept past him. Was the night breeze always this cold?
Come to think of it, this was the first time he had been anywhere other than home or the hospital at this hour. Everything was truly a first.
Ho-eun smiled faintly, but as if to scold his smile, another gust of wind blew. His eyes felt like they were freezing, and he squinted. It was only just the beginning of autumn, but perhaps because it was a forest, the chill was unusual.
“…It’s cold.”
Ho-eun stroked his cheeks, which had already grown cold. His parents must have packed thick clothes for him, but he couldn’t find his luggage in the mountain of piled-up belongings.
Enduring one night of cold was manageable, but the problem was what came after. His weak body would likely catch a cold or fever again. If he got sick, he would cause trouble. Someone might have to carry him on their back.
He really hated that.
Ho-eun was trying to curl up to avoid the wind when someone called out to him.
“Young Master.”
Ho-eun, who had never heard that title here, snapped his head up. Gil-sang was standing there.
“Come this way.”
“Yes!”
Ho-eun stood up with a delighted expression. He thought Gil-sang must have taken pity on him and was trying to rescue him. He hurried over to Gil-sang and said,
“Um… Sergeant. Please refrain from calling me Young Master. I’m just a private, and you’re a sergeant.”
Ho-eun pointed to himself, then looked at Gil-sang. Gil-sang’s eyebrows twitched at his words.
“A private? Who? You, Young Master?”
“W-Well, strictly speaking, I’m not even a private.”
Ho-eun tossed his Braided Hair over his shoulder and smiled awkwardly. Gil-sang shook his head as if that wasn’t the issue.
“You’re the Captain’s Bondmate. How could I treat you carelessly?”
“…”
Captain’s Bondmate. Ho-eun felt shy about the role and smiled faintly. Then, he slowly let his smile fade. Tae-muk didn’t seem to think of him as his Bondmate. His back, as he walked away as if he couldn’t hear him, was still vivid in his mind.
Ho-eun sighed secretly, and then Gil-sang said, “Follow me,” and started walking somewhere. Ho-eun quickly followed him.
“Where are we going? Is there a separate place for Bondmates to stay?”
“No. Everyone’s with their partner.”
“Then I…”
“Yes. We’re going to the Captain’s tent.”
“Ah…”
Ho-eun sighed softly. It was a sigh filled with many emotions.
Tae-muk’s tent wasn’t large or luxurious. Since he was a general, his tent was larger than the other soldiers’ tents, but there was nothing special about it. It seemed to be a temporary tent for just one night.
Five or six lanterns dimly lit the interior, and instead of a wooden floor, a Straw mat similar to a mat was spread on the ground. Bedding was spread out on top of it.
A small table was placed on one side, and a pile of papers with unknown writing on them was on top of it. On the other side, a military tunic was crumpled carelessly. In the candlelight, it was impossible to tell if it was still covered in blood or wet from being washed.
And Tae-muk… wasn’t there.
“Ha…”
Ho-eun sighed in relief. At the same time, he was worried. It wasn’t polite to be in a room without the owner. This wasn’t a room, but still… Gil-sang had told him to go inside, but still…
Ho-eun was about to go back out when the wind blew, and the entire tent shook violently as if it were about to collapse. But strangely, the wind didn’t enter.
“…”
Looking at it this way, it seemed a little cozy…
After hesitating for a moment, Ho-eun gave up on leaving and stood in the corner of the tent. After a while, he couldn’t resist his fatigue and squatted down.
Where had Tae-muk gone at this late hour?
When would he come back?
What should he say when he came?
Ho-eun rested his cheek on his knees as he thought about these things. His eyelids grew heavy in an instant. The sound of the tent swaying in the wind, the soldiers outside whispering, the sound of someone moving and stepping on grass or small twigs, the rustling of leaves—listening to these sounds made him sleepy.
He had never squatted and slept before, but he was so exhausted that he felt like he could do anything.
Was he dozing off, or was he just about to fall asleep? Ho-eun suddenly felt the area above his head darken and opened his eyes. There.
“…”
Tae-muk was standing there. Tae-muk, bare-chested and wearing only a black Durumagi. He had been covered in blood earlier, but now he was soaking wet. He must have washed in a nearby stream.
“O-Oh… ah…”
Ho-eun gasped in surprise. At the same time, he couldn’t help but look at Tae-muk’s body.
Tae-muk’s muscles, visible through the Durumagi, were thick and massive. The muscles on his chest and stomach were the same. The muscles, glistening with moisture, looked heavy. It was amazing that he could walk around so casually with such things attached to his body.
And how broad and thick his shoulders were. The bones connecting his neck and shoulders looked as hard as iron, and his chest muscles were so large that they cast shadows below them.
Ho-eun, who had been staring blankly for a moment, belatedly tried to stand up and greet him. But he couldn’t utter a greeting. It was because Tae-muk was wearing nothing at all below.
“…”
It was the first time he had seen another person’s private parts. He had older brothers, but they were much older than him, so they didn’t bathe together, and he had never relieved himself with anyone.
So, what Tae-muk had hanging below was very new and fascinating.
Was that what a man’s manhood was supposed to look like? Was that normal? But it looked so different from his own—Ho-eun realized that he had been staring intently at that area and quickly averted his eyes. He even skipped the greeting.