By Zephyria 
163
Tae-muk freely caressed Ho-eun’s body. He touched his gaunt wrists, stroked his arms, and massaged his slightly fleshy thighs. Meanwhile, Ho-eun pondered Tae-muk’s words. Then, he raised a question.
“But, every year, the units gather to fill out the records. Why isn’t information about the Devouring Ghouls shared? Even in Hanyang, they should be collecting such information.”
“The purpose of the records isn’t to understand the Devouring Ghouls.”
“Then what is it?”
“A kind of voucher.”
“…Excuse me? A voucher?”
“Money.”
Ho-eun, not understanding his words, tilted his head. Tae-muk readjusted Ho-eun in his arms and added an explanation.
“It’s for those above to check. How much money these vermin have spent, and whether the money spent was justified.”
“Vermin? What do you mean by that…?”
“Everything the soldiers eat, wear, and sleep in is money. They need to check if they’ve killed enough Devouring Ghouls for the money spent, right?”
“……”
Ho-eun’s eyes rolled to the left, then to the right. Then, suddenly, he frowned, his fair face contorted.
“Just, just for that reason, they call the soldiers to Hanyang every year? Many people must die or get injured just traveling to and from Hanyang.”
Tae-muk chuckled softly at Ho-eun’s upright and righteous words. Then, he leaned deeply against the back of the chair and said with a sigh.
“You have to go to get the money. Can’t starve to death.”
“……”
“The higher-ups aren’t very interested in the Devouring Ghouls. It’s not their problem since they live safely anyway. It’s always commoners or outcasts who die on the battlefield.”
“……”
“There’s nothing cheaper or more insignificant to the nobles than the lives of the lowly. But they have to ask for money for provisions and military expenses every time, so how annoying must that be? That’s why they call them in to check. To see if they really spent the money properly.”
“……”
At those words, Ho-eun paused his breathing for a moment. Tae-muk’s words, that it’s always commoners or outcasts who die on the battlefield, weighed heavily on his heart. It was an undeniable truth. He hadn’t been on the battlefield for very long, but the fact that he was the only noble in the Bondmate system made it obvious.
Okay, granting that they might be scared to go to the battlefield. No, it’s natural to be scared. So, I understand wanting to avoid it.
But if that’s the case, then at least they should have some gratitude for those who go out and fight. How, how can they all be so shameless?
Ho-eun’s face darkened. Even his lush eyelashes drooped listlessly, and a large hand grabbed his chin. Soon, he met Tae-muk’s eyes.
“Why the face? Did you do that?”
“……”
Ho-eun couldn’t answer. He wondered if he could really say he hadn’t, since he had never thought so deeply about Devouring Ghouls or the battlefield before becoming a Bondmate. He had just lived a useless life, going back and forth between home and the hospital.
Overcome with belated guilt, Ho-eun sighed, then suddenly inhaled sharply, “Huh-”
“Did you say it’s the end of the year?”
Tae-muk raised an eyebrow, then nodded casually.
“Yeah. I go to fill out the records every year-end.”
It wasn’t anything special, but Ho-eun’s face turned pale.
“A-Already… is it the end of the year?”
“Yeah.”
“How is it already…”
He muttered to himself, staring blankly into the air. His face was filled with a strange bewilderment and sadness. Tae-muk frowned at the inexplicable gloom, but he couldn’t understand the reason.
“Haa…”
Sitting on one side of the room, Ho-eun dropped his arm, unable to continue drying his hair with the cloth. He had washed his body with warm water, but he still didn’t feel any better. His chest felt stuffy, as if something was stuck inside.
He rubbed his chest with his palm, then finally unable to bear the stuffiness, he crawled to the paper door and opened it with a thud. At the same time, a chilling cold air rushed into the room. He was lightly dressed since it was bedtime, so the cold felt even more vivid.
But Ho-eun didn’t flinch or close the door. He just stood there, looking out.
Large snowflakes were falling silently. The narrow yard was covered with snow. The snow piled thickly on the low walls, unused crocks, and abandoned garden was a little… sad. The round shapes all looked like graves.
“It’s snowing again…”
Ho-eun muttered to himself. He had settled here and seen snow every day, but today the snow felt new.
Will it snow in Hanyang too? Will it be as cold as here? I hope not…
Thinking that far, Ho-eun sighed again. A white breath puffed out even though he was inside. Still, Ho-eun didn’t close the door.
How long had he been there? Just as his cheeks and fingertips were freezing, someone gently took the cloth he was holding.
“Why are you opening the door when it’s cold?”
It was Tae-muk, wearing only a Durumagi over his bare upper body.
“Ah, my chest felt a little stuffy… I’ll close it in a bit.”
Ho-eun replied, forcing a smile. Tae-muk looked at Ho-eun without a word, then took off his Durumagi and draped it over his shoulders. Then, he sat down next to Ho-eun and began to press down on his wet hair, drying it.
“Ah, I, I’ll do it.”
Ho-eun refused Tae-muk’s touch. Touching, hugging, and kissing were all things that could be done in the relationship between a God of War and a Bondmate, but this was different. He was making him wait on him. He couldn’t make Tae-muk, a general, do such a thing.
“It’s okay.”
But Tae-muk ignored Ho-eun’s words with his characteristic indifferent tone and began to press down on his hair, drying it. He didn’t seem to care that water was dripping from his own hair. Ho-eun fidgeted uncomfortably.
“They say nobles don’t cut their hair because it’s a gift from their parents.”
Tae-muk said something out of the blue. Ho-eun’s shoulders twitched. The word “noble” coming from Tae-muk’s mouth was always uncomfortable.
“…Not all of them are like that. I’ve heard that some young scholars these days do cut it. And…”
Ho-eun paused his slow reply and took a breath. Then, he continued.
“It’s not just nobles who value their hair. There are quite a few people in the Crimson Rain Brigade who don’t cut their hair either. Filial piety is something everyone practices, regardless of their status.”
But Tae-muk chuckled. At that laugh, Ho-eun glanced at him, then belatedly realized that his hair was short.
“T-That’s not to say that you don’t value your hair, General. I mean, you also value the body your parents gave you…”
Ho-eun chose to shut his mouth. It seemed like there was no point in chattering on. Tae-muk had never talked about his parents. Ho-eun hadn’t asked either. He knew that few people in this world had parents who were still alive and well. Maybe Tae-muk’s parents were also…
Thinking that far, he sighed again. His breath came out even thicker than before.
“…I’m sorry.”
Ho-eun apologized.
“For what.”
Tae-muk continued to dry his hair as if nothing was wrong. He even dragged the brazier that was far away and placed it next to Ho-eun.
After that, there was silence. The brazier crackled with burning charcoal, the winter wind occasionally shook the paper door and entered the room, and the snow piled up somewhere fell with a soft rustling sound.
Listening to each of those sounds, Ho-eun folded his knees and hugged them, resting his chin on them. Then, this time, he sighed through his nose. Eyelashes laden with gloom drooped down like eaves. Seeing that, Tae-muk flipped the wet cloth and asked.
“Why are you in a bad mood?”
“I’m not.”
Ho-eun replied immediately.
“……”
At that, Tae-muk tilted his head and glared at Ho-eun. His face said, “Don’t lie.” Ho-eun smiled awkwardly. It seemed that Tae-muk wasn’t going to fall for his lie.
Ho-eun hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened his mouth.
“I once told you that I don’t like snow. Do you remember?”
“Yeah.”
“The reason is…”
Ho-eun paused for a moment, swallowed hard, and then continued.
“It’s because of my… eldest brother. Or maybe it’s because of my parents.”
“Brother?”
Tae-muk, who was still drying Ho-eun’s hair, subtly raised his eyebrows. An unfamiliar figure. Ho-eun had talked about his parents, Deok-woo, and even Noo-reong, but he had never talked about his brother.
“Yes. I have three older brothers, and the eldest was a God of War. A God of War as strong as you, General.”
“……”
Tae-muk frowned slightly. A strong God of War. He knew most of the well-known Gods of War, and none of them were from noble families. No, there were very few noble Gods of War in the world. Was Ho-eun lying? Or was he saying it without knowing? As he was thinking that, Ho-eun, noticing his doubts, smiled faintly and said.
“You wouldn’t know him, General. He passed away a long time ago… ten years ago, around this time, on a day like this when it was snowing.”