By Zephyria 
Ho-eun pushed the handkerchief a bit deeper toward Tae-muk.
“Please take it. My mother must have embroidered this while praying for your safety, General.”
“…….”
Tae-muk didn’t give any answer. Growing anxious, Ho-eun’s lips parted once more.
“I-I mean, it’s quite a precious item in our household. My mother only made them for the family—my father, my older brothers, their wives, and me.”
At those words, Tae-muk asked back hastily.
“What about that bastard Deok-woo?”
“Pardon?”
“Does Deok-woo not have one of these?”
“Ah, yes. He doesn’t. Aside from the family, you are the first person the General has given one to.”
“…….”
Tae-muk’s lips twisted to one side before returning to normal. Why would he give something reserved for the family of such a prestigious household to a guy like him? What was the motive? Was it laced with poison? Even as he thought this, he found himself reaching for the handkerchief unconsciously. Ho-eun quickly handed it over.
“…….”
Tae-muk looked down quietly at the handkerchief in his hand. He then brushed his thumb over the densely embroidered pink flowers. The soft texture felt entirely foreign and awkward. It wasn’t a real petal, yet it possessed a softness that made him instinctively cautious.
Ho-eun looked back and forth between Tae-muk and the handkerchief, his lips curling into a small smile as he stammered.
“Only the family has them, but r-really, isn’t your bond with us just as significant, General? After all, it’s a heavenly bond—a match made by the heavens… that’s a connection as great as that between a parent and child.”
“…….”
“I think Mother gave you the handkerchief as a gift because she knows that.”
“…….”
Tae-muk stared at the handkerchief without saying much. Then, he folded it carefully. His large, tanned hands were clumsy as they folded the white fabric. It was likely because he had never received a gift before. He had rarely touched anything so soft and precious. Thus, it felt awkward, embarrassing, and uncomfortable, yet also ticklish.
Tucking the folded handkerchief inside his chest, Tae-muk spoke slowly.
“Should I… tell her thank you? But I won’t be able to, uh, convey that until I go back to fill out the records next year.”
He gave a slight shrug for no reason. It was because his chest felt heavy. It also felt a bit warm. He couldn’t understand why a mere piece of thin cloth made him feel this way.
Ho-eun beamed at Tae-muk’s words.
“She will feel it even if you don’t tell her.”
“……Then that’s a relief.”
Tae-muk spoke bluntly and shifted his gaze away. Strangely, he couldn’t meet Ho-eun’s eyes. Feeling an itch all over his body, he began scratching his neck and under his chin.
Watching this, Ho-eun’s smile deepened. The shy Tae-muk felt truly lovely to him. He could even call it cute. He wondered if it was appropriate to have such thoughts about someone in the position of a General, but that was the only way Ho-eun could describe the emotion he was feeling.
He was also grateful. He felt that Tae-muk did not ignore his mother’s heart, but rather embraced it.
“General.”
Ho-eun, pushing himself up from the floor with both arms, called out to Tae-muk.
“What.”
Tae-muk answered while looking at him.
“Please come here for a moment.”
“What, do you have something else to give me?”
“Yes.”
Tae-muk frowned slightly before relaxing and standing close to the veranda. However, when Ho-eun said, “Just a little closer,” he ended up plopping down onto the veranda entirely. Then, as if he had been waiting for this moment, Ho-eun lunged at him with the agility of a squirrel catching a falling acorn.
And then, muah.
Ho-eun’s lips touched Tae-muk’s cheek and then pulled away.
“Please travel safely. I will be waiting for you here.”
Tae-muk froze with his eyes wide open. Then, he eventually let out a small chuckle.
“Yeah. I’ll be back.”
He carefully tucked a strand of Ho-eun’s hair behind his ear. Ho-eun smiled radiantly at the touch.
Looking at that smile, Tae-muk thought. He hadn’t even left yet, but he already wanted to return. He wanted to return to this ‘home’ where Ho-eun was waiting for him.
It was a winter day, cold as usual. The date was approaching the beginning of spring, but the cold showed no sign of weakening, leaving the soldiers’ cheeks frozen red. Even without opening their mouths, the breath they exhaled blurred the surroundings in a white haze, repeatedly appearing and vanishing.
“…….”
Tae-muk, with a cigarette in his mouth, stood atop a sheer, towering cliff. Exhaling something that could have been either cigarette smoke or breath, he slowly bent his body and crouched down. His short hair fluttered violently in the wind.
Tae-muk narrowed his eyes and gazed down the cliff.
In the vast plain stretching below the mountain, about two hundred Devouring Ghouls were moving busily. They were likely heading down in search of humans to devour.
As Tae-muk glared at the creatures—which were utterly repulsive whether seen from near or far—Byeonguk, who was observing the ghouls through binoculars, spoke without taking his eye off the lens.
“However, I don’t see the Young Master. Did he not come with us?”
At that, Tae-muk’s eyebrow twitched upward and then lowered. A flicker of emotion entered his eyes, which had been dry and hard. He bit down on the cigarette before letting it go and answered shortly.
“He’s at home.”
Surprised by the unexpected answer, Byeonguk slowly lowered the binoculars.
“Home… you say?”
He wasn’t surprised that Ho-eun was at home. It was just that the word ‘home’ felt alien. It felt even more so coming from Tae-muk’s mouth. Of course, the ‘military tent’ where he and Ho-eun stayed had a roof, walls, and even a yard, so calling it a home wasn’t entirely wrong, but…
“Yeah.”
Tae-muk, seemingly oblivious to the strangeness, continued to track the ghouls with his eyes.
Watching him, Byeonguk glanced behind him for no reason. Dozens of Crimson Rain Brigade soldiers, including Dong-ja and Man-soo, were on horseback, but as expected, Ho-eun was not there. Gil-sang, who always stayed by his side, was also nowhere to be seen. Byeonguk felt a bit disappointed.
“Why didn’t he come along? He was looking forward to it quite a bit, thinking we might find a clue today.”
Today’s operation had been planned by Ho-eun and Byeonguk together. Ho-eun had provided the main framework, and Byeonguk had merely added a few details, but it was a plan they had crafted together. Because of that, Byeonguk knew very well how much Ho-eun had anticipated today.
Suddenly, Tae-muk’s eyebrows shot up fiercely.
“Since this morning, fuck…”
He stopped mid-sentence and gnashed his teeth as if he were incredibly frustrated. Seeing this, Byeonguk’s expression became serious, wondering if the two had fought. However, Tae-muk gave a completely unexpected answer.
“He had a nosebleed.”
Recalling Ho-eun, who had been bleeding from his nose while eating, Tae-muk frowned as deeply as he could. Mouth sores, fevers, nosebleeds, colds. Ho-eun was the type to catch every possible ailment every other day.
“A nosebleed… you say?”
“Yeah. That’s why I didn’t let him come.”
This operation required waiting for a long time on a mountaintop cliff. Since the altitude was high, the wind was strong and the cold was biting, so he felt it was for the best not to bring him. If he had faced this wind head-on, he surely would have been groaning with a fever tomorrow.
He had told him to lie down and do nothing all day, but would he actually follow that… or would he be unable to resist and go outside to eat snacks with Chilbok, wash cucumbers, or help move firewood…
Tae-muk narrowed his eyes.
“Surely…”
Byeonguk also narrowed his eyes and looked at Tae-muk. Feeling that gaze, Tae-muk looked at him and let out a hollow laugh. The cigarette between his teeth wavered violently as if it might fall.
“What. Why are you looking at me like that. Don’t tell me, fuck, you think I did it? It just happened. It happened for no reason. I’m frustrated too.”
“……Yes. I thought that wasn’t the case.”
Byeonguk nodded a beat late. His face did not look like someone who believed it wasn’t the case; it was an ambiguously twisted expression. Tae-muk felt a bit irritated, but since he had his own past sins, he didn’t say anything more.
Running his palm through his disheveled hair, he looked back at the ghouls. Though they were far away, if he watched closely, their forms became as clear and distinct as if they were right before his eyes. He could almost count how many there were.
As Tae-muk carefully scanned the ghouls, his gaze stopped at one spot. In the middle of the pack, there was one with a pointed antenna.
Byeonguk, who was observing the ghouls through the binoculars, seemed to have spotted it as well and spoke in a flat voice.
“It’s the trident-type. According to the antenna classifications the Young Master made, it’s a quite intelligent one. It digs traps and uses bait.”
“That means we’ll have to shed some blood if we engage.”
“Yes. That is correct.”
“Then we just kill it without engaging.”
Tae-muk crushed his cigarette into the snow at his feet and stood up. Then, letting out a long stream of remaining smoke, he gestured with his hand toward the rear.
“Bring it.”
At those words, a soldier hopped off his horse and ran quickly toward Tae-muk. He then handed over the bow that had been slung over his shoulder.
The bow was as long as an average person. Most bows used by the archers of the Crimson Rain Brigade looked like this. This was because ordinary bows could not pierce the Helmet Bone of a Devouring Ghoul, which was as hard as rock.
After receiving the arrows as well, Tae-muk notched one and immediately drew the string. The bow creaked as it bent. Veins bulged on the back of the hand gripping the bow.