By Zephyria 
Tae-muk had become the captain by accident, but he took his role quite seriously.
Perhaps he was actually excited. Even if it wasn’t an officially registered unit, he was, after all, a leader guiding many people.
Tae-muk always acted at the forefront, did his best to save others, and strove to make the right judgments.
Thus, with Tae-muk leading the way, the Crimson Rain Brigade killed many Devouring Ghouls and saved many people. Because of this, word began to spread, and occasionally, people would seek them out, saying they wanted to enlist.
Though the unit had been cobbled together haphazardly, contrary to his worries, it seemed to be running quite well.
However, problems arose before long.
Since it wasn’t an officially registered unit, they couldn’t receive food—specifically, military rations. Not only were supplementary food costs an issue, but procuring weapons was also impossible.
He tried to register the unit, but it was impossible. The reasons were more than ten: there were no nobles, no plausible ranks, no connections, and no way to prove the merits they had achieved.
Still, they managed to scrape by. This was because they could catch animals to eat or receive things like barley, vegetables, and fruit as tokens of gratitude from those they had saved.
But in winter, even that was not easy. Everyone struggled just to survive, so even those whose lives were saved had nothing to give.
As winter reached its peak, the snow fell more heavily, and the cold became so harsh it was beyond spiteful—it was resentful.
The soldiers, starving, became skin and bones. Their noses and cheeks were raw and red from frostbite, and it was common for fingers or toes to simply snap off. Their medicine had long since run out, and the wounded died without treatment. Meanwhile, the clothes they layered and their tents grew old and began to tear.
Tae-muk could save the soldiers from the Devouring Ghouls, but he could not save them from hunger.
Hunger drives people to the brink. Some, perhaps wanting to become Devouring Ghouls themselves, sought to eat the bodies of the dead; others scooped up and ate clumps of dirt and snow that clung together like rice cakes; and some simply curled up, clutching their starving stomachs, and died withered away.
Around that time, every time the Lieutenant Colonel coughed, he began to spill streaks of bright red blood onto the pure white snow.
“Eat some porridge.”
Tae-muk entered the Lieutenant Colonel’s tent and set a bowl down before him. Inside the worn bowl, something that was embarrassing to even call porridge was sloshing around. It was just potatoes boiled in plain water until they crumbled, and even then, it barely made three or four bowls. Tae-muk, as the captain, had managed to bring back one full bowl.
“You… you eat it. I’m fine.”
The Lieutenant Colonel, his cheeks sunken, waved a skeletal hand.
“Fuck, what do you mean you’re fine? Eat, hurry up.”
Despite his irritated tone, Tae-muk carefully helped the lying Lieutenant Colonel sit up. The Lieutenant Colonel rose shakily and held the spoon, but he didn’t eat the porridge. Instead, he stared blankly at the snow pouring through the gaps in the torn tent, his white, cracked lips trembling.
“It was around this time, wasn’t it?”
“What was?”
“When I met you as a child. Do you remember then?”
“…”
At the sudden question, Tae-muk’s movements came to a dead halt. Memories he had pressed down and trampled, sinking them deep into his heart, suddenly surged to the surface.
At the same time, a chill ran down his spine. It was a cold he hadn’t felt in a long time. Since becoming the God of War, he hadn’t felt things like cold. It seemed that the time had remained as a cold memory.
Suddenly feeling as if a silk hair tie had scratched across his retina, Tae-muk rubbed his eyes vigorously as if trying to crush them.
However, the Lieutenant Colonel, either oblivious or determined to speak, continued to mutter about that time in a frail voice.
“I think about it sometimes. That I shouldn’t have cut your arm back then. I wonder if your life would have been less blood-stained if I hadn’t.”
Then, he coughed violently. His lower lip became wet with blood. The Lieutenant Colonel wiped it away roughly with his frayed sleeve.
“…Why does that even matter now. Just eat this.”
Tae-muk pushed the bowl toward him. But the Lieutenant Colonel still didn’t look at the bowl. Instead, he looked at Tae-muk’s face. He looked at Tae-muk, who, despite dying, bursting, and being torn apart on the battlefield over such a long time, had not yet reached twenty. Then, he asked in a voice lower than before.
“Should I apologize?”
“…”
“To the young you, I—”
“Ugh, fuck! Why do you keep talking about that? Eat it or don’t, do whatever you want.”
Tae-muk shouted and stood up abruptly, intending to leave the tent. But the Lieutenant Colonel spoke to Tae-muk’s retreating back.
“Tae-muk.”
“…”
“I’m sorry.”
“…”
“For dragging you into this battlefield.”
Tae-muk clenched his teeth so hard the bone protruded above his jaw. He gripped the tent flap with such force that the veins on the back of his hand surged.
A strange emotion welled up. There was anger, but also sadness; a surge of resentment as he thought of his parents, but also fear.
“Still, the fact that you are the God of War is a great blessing for this country.”
At the following words, the frozen Tae-muk let out a scoff of disbelief. Turning his head, he glared at the Lieutenant Colonel, though not with hatred.
“Always with that ‘country’ talk… Stop bullshitting and just eat.”
“Alright.”
The Lieutenant Colonel nodded. He coughed again, then began to eat the porridge. His hand holding the bowl trembled so much it looked unstable, and just as Tae-muk was about to step back into the tent—
Kieeeeeek!
The cry of a Devouring Ghoul echoed from afar. And faintly, the screams of people followed. Tae-muk’s eyes snapped into focus.
“I’ll be back. Stay here.”
Without waiting for the Lieutenant Colonel’s answer, Tae-muk sprinted across the white snowfields.
And on that day, on a battlefield where snow and blood fell together, Tae-muk saved the King—the Emperor of the Korean Empire.
* * *
“Captain of the Crimson Rain Brigade, Lee Tae-muk, shall receive the Imperial Decree of His Majesty the Emperor.”
Despite the solemn voice, Tae-muk just stood there blankly. Then, Byeonguk, who was nearby, whispered in a voice only Tae-muk could hear that he needed to kneel. When Tae-muk knelt awkwardly, he was soon told to bow his head. So, he lowered his head.
The awkward posture was uncomfortable. Of course, the most uncomfortable part were the officials from the Royal Secretariat in their official robes. With their neatly trimmed beards, they were different from any noble Tae-muk had seen so far. How should he put it? They were real, real nobles.
As he stayed there, he could clearly hear the whispers of the Crimson Rain Brigade soldiers gathered in the distance as if watching a spectacle.
“No, how was the King even there?”
“I heard he was on his way back from Yeosu or Busan or somewhere?”
“Way over there by the coast? Why there?”
“Maybe there was someone he had to meet.”
“Who would the King go all the way to Yeosu to meet when Devouring Ghouls are crawling everywhere? Maybe if it were General Yi Sun-sin.”
“…Is General Yi Sun-sin still alive?”
“Sigh… wouldn’t it be better to just let this idiot be eaten by a Devouring Ghoul?”
“Shh, be quiet, be quiet. Do you know how… huh? How glorious this moment is.”
With those words, the official began to read the decree in a voice more solemn and lower than before.
“You did not fear the ferocious teeth of the Myriad Calamities raging in all directions and risked your life to save Me; this is loyalty and righteousness that would move the heart of Heaven. In recognition of your merit, I appoint you to the Senior Third Rank of Jeong-ryeong.”
At those words, the Crimson Rain Brigade soldiers whispered again.
“Jeong-ryeong? What’s a Jeong-ryeong?”
“Colonel.”
“Huh? Colonel? Hmm… let’s see, let’s see, if it’s Colonel… Private, Private First Class, Corporal, Sergeant, Staff Sergeant, First Sergeant, Second Lieutenant, First Lieutenant, Captain, then Major, Lieutenant Colonel, and Colonel.”
“My goodness, is Colonel that high? Then the Captain skipped all those ranks and became a Colonel in one go?”
“Who did you hear that from? I heard the King knew about our Crimson Rain Brigade too.”
“Well, obviously. Did we kill a lot of Devouring Ghouls? Did we save a lot of people? If he’s the King, he knows everything in the world, so he’d naturally know us.”
“Geez, did you kill them? Did you save them? Tae-muk, huh? Our Captain did it all.”
“Anyway, I guess he’s giving all the rewards he owed us at once this time.”
Tae-muk simply listened to the soldiers’ conversation and the official’s voice without any expression. Cold snowflakes fell softly on the nape of his neck, but they melted instantly.
“I’m back.”
Tae-muk, gripping his Colonel’s epaulettes tightly, entered the Lieutenant Colonel’s tent. He sat down with his back against the Lieutenant Colonel, who was lying on his side, and slowly opened his hand. The Colonel’s epaulette, with the Taegeuk symbol embedded in the center, was clean, bright, and distinct. It wasn’t something used by someone else; it was a real epaulette, newly made for Tae-muk.
“Mister. Did you hear? I became a Colonel. And the King made me one.”
“…”
“Maybe it’s because you always told me to save the country, save the country. I actually ended up saving the King…”
Tae-muk chuckled. Saving the King. Even as he said it, he couldn’t believe it. It felt like he was dreaming a dream-like dream.
“We’re a real unit now. A proper unit of the Korean Empire.”
“…”
“They’re going to give us new weapons and uniforms, and they said they’ll give us military rations. Everyone else became real soldiers too. Oh, they said they’d give us money. Isn’t that crazy? If I get money every time I kill a Devouring Ghoul, I’ll be filthy rich.”
“…”
“But how high is a Colonel? Back then, was that Pig bastard a Colonel?”
“…”
“…Thinking about that guy, maybe it’s not that high…”
“…”
“No, but that guy was a noble. So can I think of it as me becoming as high as a noble? No, wait. Since the King appointed me personally, isn’t that higher than a noble?”
Having said that, Tae-muk giggled. A faint youthfulness lingered in the corners of his curving eyes. Then, Tae-muk carefully touched the stars embedded on both sides of the epaulette with his fingertips before holding it out to the Lieutenant Colonel.
“Mister. Look at this. There are six stars.”
“…”
“Mister, why aren’t you answering?”
“…”
“Mister?”
Despite Tae-muk’s countless calls, the Lieutenant Colonel did not answer.
“…Mister.”
Tae-muk realized too late. While he had been continuing his long story, the man had not coughed a single time.
That day. The day the cotton-like snow poured down. Tae-muk turned twenty, the Crimson Rain Brigade became a real unit, and the Lieutenant Colonel died.