Chương 106: You Should’ve Stayed the Night

It was late at night when they left the Jungbang.

"You should stay the night." Park Geunsu urged him.

"I'll go home."

"The gates have long been closed."

"Won't you let me out, hyung?"

"Me? Why would I?" With Park's help, Yeong-u slipped out of Kaegyeong through a side gate and headed home. Park walked him all the way to the front.

"Stop by when you leave. Or—did you say you have to report to the Geumowi tomorrow?"

"Yes. I'll have to come again."

"Watch the road at night."

"You too, hyung."

"Crazy bastard." Spring was beginning to stir, but the night was still cold. Wrapped in his cloak on horseback, he moved forward slowly. This road—he had walked it alone six, maybe seven years ago, when he first left. His father had died in battle, and there had been no one to take up the duty. Though still young, he had defied his family and set out. If he refused military service, their land would be lost. And yet, his family had tried to stop him—afraid of losing their last son.

Too many thoughts weighed on him, and even the horse seemed reluctant to move. The road wavered in his vision. He still carried the long banner-staff unbroken, just as it was. Behind him, the spare horse and pack animal snorted, their breath rising white in the cold. After about half a shijin, a vast forest appeared. Had it always been this large? Stolen novel; please report. A pine forest—its wind carried a particularly mournful sound. Each gust seemed to drag the temperature down.

There was a saying—words can become reality. His unease had come true. As he approached the edge of the forest, he sensed something. A faint presence—one he would never have noticed before.

"…Ah." He knew at once—it was meant for him. This was the road home. Not a battlefield. This was not where such things should happen. Yeong-u slowed, then turned wide around the forest. The steady rhythm of hooves echoed. As he circled away, those hidden within let out quiet breaths of frustration. His senses had sharpened enough to catch even that. Standing in the deep shadow beyond the moonlight, he listened. Their voices came as if right beside him.

"He went around."

"Did he notice?"

"How would he?"

"Someone could've warned him."

"No way."

"Then why would he leave the road?"

"He noticed. It's gone. What do we do?"

"We chase him."

"Or wait another day."

"Going to his house is an option." At the word house, his chest tightened. How easily they spoke of it. He felt, more clearly than ever, how fragile his footing truly was. He tied his horse beyond the ridge and melted into the darkness. Moving through mountain folds, forest, valleys, and open ground, he circled back toward them. Now I hunt you. Five of them. Careless men, standing in the moonlight, blaming one another.

"I told you we should've gone to his house."

"It's just one man. What are you afraid of?"

"Exactly."

"We should've finished this today."

"He's still a nangjang. We should ambush him."

"He's just a kid."

"How do you chase a horse?"

"He's moving slow."

"If he gets away, it's over." From the grass, Yeong-u listened. It was Lee Huisong who had sent them. They had moved hastily, unprepared—and lost their chance. He even heard talk of payment. That was enough. He climbed a tree with a clear view. In the dark, guided by instinct, he drew his bow. Twang. A low, cutting sound—one man let out a strangled cry and collapsed. Another arrow flew. The second fell, pierced through the back. Two. In the darkness, they could not tell where the arrows came from.

Some dropped flat to the ground. From above, they were easier targets. One man, crouched low, suddenly flipped over— and exposed himself. The arrow struck through him.

"P-please… spare me… I know nothing…" Yeong-u dropped down. He landed with a dull thud. The last man collapsed where he stood. Four arrows had struck four men. None were dead. Yeong-u approached and placed his sword at the man's throat. This was different from the battlefield. Perhaps because they lived in the same world— even if they had come to kill him, he could not erase the feeling that this was still killing. Still— he was no longer weak enough to fall to such tricks.

"Who sent you?"

"I don't know."

"You were told to confess."

"I don't know."

"Then die." He pressed the blade. The man trembled like an insect.

"Lee Huisong! Lee Huisong sent us!" As expected.

"Your payment?"

"One hundred nyang."

"Gold?"

"Silver. One hundred ingots."

"That's a lot."

"…

""Half in advance?"

"Half now. Half after."

"Why kill me?"

"I don't know." It was meaningless. A man ordered a death out of spite. Others obeyed. Was this the world he had lived in? Even the frozen lands of the far north had felt warmer than this. Yeong-u lowered his sword.

"Go."

"…Really?"

"Yes. Or leave something behind. An arm, perhaps."

"Cruel bastard."

"You're alive."

"…Right."

"Go." He released them. They fled at once. One, too badly injured to move, begged through tears for help— but no one looked back. He should have stayed the night.