By Zephyria 
Kieeeeeek!
Kak, kaak, kiiiiiiik!
Faced with attacks clearly visible to the eye, the Devouring Ghouls crouched low or hid their heads. Because of this, the fire arrows pierced their bodies instead of their heads. For a moment, flames flared up, but the creatures soon died without a fight.
“…….”
The fire arrow attack had failed. However, Tae-muk didn’t react particularly.
He already knew that Devouring Ghouls didn’t burn. It wasn’t as if he had only fought them once or twice; why wouldn’t he have thought of using fire?
Compared to their size, they didn’t have much flesh; their hides were tough and they were mostly composed of bone, making them difficult to ignite.
The reason he shot the arrows despite knowing this was for another purpose. In truth, most of the arrows shot this time were not aimed at the Devouring Ghouls. They were aimed at the trees standing sparsely across the ground.
Fire arrows struck the bases and branches of the trees, and flames erupted with a whoosh. The crimson fire swallowed the trees in an instant. This was thanks to the Crimson Rain Brigade having coated the trees in oil before the ghouls arrived.
It would be ideal if battles only took place in broad daylight, but that wasn’t the case. Nor could they fight while holding flashlights the entire time, which was why they decided to set the trees on fire.
The large, thick, and tall trees would burn brightly and for a long time. They would serve as the eyes of the Crimson Rain Brigade through the night, through the dawn, and until daybreak, when fire was no longer necessary.
As the trees began to blaze, the opposite side was illuminated in an instant. The figures of the Devouring Ghouls were clearly revealed in the bright light. Conversely, the Crimson Rain Brigade on the other side was plunged into complete darkness.
They had reached a state where they could see the creatures, but the creatures could not see them.
In the meantime, Tae-muk focused on the egg. Taking a flashlight from a nearby soldier, he shone it on the offspring. The creatures writhed and crawled further inside, as if they hated the light.
Looking at the thousands of swarming offspring, Tae-muk pondered how to handle them. Dealing with them one by one would obviously be tedious and take a great deal of time.
After observing the egg for a while, Tae-muk took a half-step back and commanded the soldier.
“Light a fire.”
“Right here, sir?”
“Yeah.”
The soldier quickly jumped up over the pit and brought a torch. He then held it against the egg.
However, the egg did not react. The area in direct contact with the fire melted viscously, but the fire did not spread. Just in case, the soldier shoved the entire torch into the egg. The fire seemed to burn for a moment, but soon went out with a pathetic hiss.
“…….”
Tae-muk glared at the egg with his arms crossed. The soldier asked tentatively.
“How about we just lift it up and throw it in the water?”
“In the water…….”
At first glance, it seemed like a good idea. But he had to be cautious. A momentary error in judgment could return as a greater disaster. What would Ho-eun have answered in a situation like this? He would probably…
‘I don’t think that would kill them. That mucus looks similar to water. Even if it flows down the river to the West Sea, it will eventually reach land, and there it will grow by eating people again. If we’re unlucky, that land could be near Hanyang.’
He would say something like that. Just recalling that slender voice brought a smile to Tae-muk’s lips. Clearing his throat to suppress the laughter, Tae-muk shook his head.
“We can’t just throw it away. We have to kill them for sure.”
“Then what do we do?”
“What else? We kill them one by one.”
At those words, the soldier let out a deep sigh through his nose, as if already exhausted. He then called other soldiers and told them to dig the Devouring Ghouls out of the egg. The soldiers rushed toward the egg all at once.
Kirrrr… Kaaaak!
Kieeeeeek!
Kureuk, keuk, kieeeeeek!
The Devouring Ghouls went into an even greater frenzy as their offspring were killed. Some, unable to contain their rage, leaped into the river and were swept away.
It was quite a threatening sight, but the Crimson Rain Brigade paid it no mind and diligently killed the offspring. Even so, the offspring tried to survive or tried to eat in turn, opening their mouths wide to bite the soldiers’ hands or forearms. Indeed, there was one that tore off a soldier’s finger. They were small in size, but a Devouring Ghoul was still a Devouring Ghoul.
“Ha, fuck, damn it…….”
A baby Devouring Ghoul clung to Tae-muk’s wrist. Though small, the feeling of sharp, pointed teeth piercing his skin made Tae-muk frown deeply.
Grabbing and killing it instantly, he cursed under his breath as he looked at his wrist where blood was bubbling up. He then rubbed off the liquid that had smeared all the way up his forearm and looked around.
About a hundred soldiers were digging the ghouls out of the egg. The pit was filled with the torn-off mucus. With every step, their feet sank deep as if in a swamp, and their clothes became damp. The liquid seeping into his collar felt as if it were strangling his neck. On top of that, there was a musty stench that induced a headache.
Tae-muk felt the urge to strip naked and jump into the river right then and there, but he gritted his teeth and endured.
The world became considerably quieter. As the night deepened, both the Crimson Rain Brigade and the Devouring Ghouls across the Amnok River reached a temporary lull.
The river breeze moved heavily. Thanks to that, the trees the Crimson Rain Brigade had lit burned even more fiercely, and it allowed them to observe the Devouring Ghouls in more detail.
Standing before the river, Tae-muk glared at them with his arms crossed. He neither showered them with arrows nor provoked or lured them. He simply observed. His goal was to keep them trapped here for as long as possible.
“…….”
After observing them for a long time, Tae-muk suddenly noticed that the sphere they were carrying—the sphere containing the egg—had moved quite far away. Previously, they had been spread out at moderate intervals, but now they had moved to the end of the pack. It seemed they were trying to protect the egg, fearing the Crimson Rain Brigade might ‘harm’ their precious offspring.
Tae-muk let out a mocking sneer. The number of infants, young children, or pregnant women those creatures had eaten would probably pile up to form Mount Baekdu. It was utterly repulsive to see such creatures cherish their own offspring.
“Seriously…… what bastards.”
I don’t like them. I’ll kill them all. As he narrowed his eyes with such thoughts, someone approached from behind.
“Captain.”
It was the cook. He was carrying a basket full of rice balls on his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
Tae-muk reached out his hand while keeping his gaze fixed on the Devouring Ghouls. The soldier placed a rice ball in his hand. As he did, he added a word.
“The Young Master made them himself.”
At those words, Tae-muk, who had been about to take the rice ball with his blood-stained hand, jerked his hand back.
“……Himself?”
The soldier, who almost dropped the rice ball, gasped and gripped it tightly. He then nodded slightly.
“Yes. Himself. Together with Chilbok.”
Tae-muk blinked rapidly. Then, saying “Wait a second,” he suddenly strode toward the river. At Tae-muk’s sudden approach, the Devouring Ghouls on the other side became alert, making kak-kak sounds. Regardless, Tae-muk bent over and scrubbed his hands in the river water. Afterward, he returned to the soldier with clean hands.
The soldier looked at Tae-muk with a bewildered expression. When Tae-muk held out his hand, he handed over the rice ball.
“He made them himself, huh…….”
Taking the rice ball, Tae-muk tilted his chin slightly and examined the contents of the basket. The round rice balls were huddled together, but Tae-muk’s was exceptionally large and firm.
Tae-muk let out a laugh.
Ha, fuck, he’s doing something cute again.
Imagining him—who had grown up so precious he probably didn’t even know how to steam a potato—sticking close to Chilbok and pressing the rice down firmly to make a ball just for him, Tae-muk couldn’t stop smiling.
Tae-muk stared at the rice ball for a while. His gaze was as warm as if he were looking at a puppy he was doting on. If it were possible, he looked as if he might actually try to raise the rice ball.
“What about Ho-eun? Did he eat?”
Tae-muk asked, his eyes still fixed on the rice ball. He strained his ears to try and detect Ho-eun’s presence, but the distance was great, the sound of the river was too loud, and between the wind, the soldiers, and the 100,000 Devouring Ghouls, it was impossible to find him.
“Dong-ja Noonim said she made sure he ate.”
The soldier answered as if he had been waiting. Knowing that Tae-muk would be curious about Ho-eun, he had prepared the answer in advance.
“Dong-ja did?”
“Yes. The Young Master initially refused, saying he had no appetite, but Noonim persuaded him and made sure he ate well. She said very proudly that there is absolutely nothing for the Captain to worry about.”
“Good job.”
The image of the two of them bickering was clear in his mind. With a smirk, Tae-muk opened his mouth to eat the rice ball. But then, he suddenly snapped his head up.
“…….”
It was because he heard a strange, scratching sound. This familiar sound was the one made when Devouring Ghouls walked or ran on the dirt ground with their protruding claws.
Tae-muk stared silently at the opposite side. As he did, he saw several dozen Devouring Ghouls moving quickly through the pack in the distance, where the light did not reach.