Chapter 5

The door of the palanquin opened, and an umbrella was placed over him at once. The cave entrance, big enough for a couple of people to walk into, didn’t look like anything special despite the grand name of the mountain deity’s cave. The servants who had followed him all went inside ahead of Hong Yeom-rang.

“You’ll stay here, and the rites will be held up there. There’s a larger cave further up the mountain. The lord said you don’t have to go there.”

Someone said they’d find a suitable person to go in his place. The servant spoke quietly, telling him not to worry since that person would go up instead. With the rain pouring down, it was hard to see where exactly that place was. Maybe the monster was there. While it rained, he didn’t feel like moving anyway.

He had plenty of time. He could search the mountain slowly.

“We’ll send someone every three days. If you need anything, leave a note outside the cave and we’ll prepare it for you.”

After tidying up inside, the servants bowed and left with the palanquin bearers, disappearing down the dark mountain path.

Hong Yeom-rang stepped inside the cave and clicked his tongue.

They had arranged it so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced at all. A padded mat and even silk bedding were laid out, along with a small desk, a lamp, and a few books. Food that wouldn’t spoil easily had been set aside, giving off a savory smell. There were a few more bundles, but he didn’t feel like opening them.

Surprisingly, the inside of the cave was comfortable despite the damp outside. Though short, the cave led into a rounded chamber that could be lived in, and there were traces that someone had stayed here before. Probably hunters, woodcutters, or herb gatherers.

Since someone had gone to the trouble of moving an entire room for him, he didn’t refuse and sat on the mat. Sitting cross-legged with his elbow on his thigh and his chin resting on his hand, Hong Yeom-rang stared straight at the cave entrance.

The lamp flickered in the faint breeze.

His shadow swayed with it. The large shadow filling the cave felt strangely ominous.

Beyond where the light reached, there was only darkness.

He was the only living thing here. Only then did the corner of his twisted lips finally relax. His quiet face looked refined, more than anyone else’s. He set his sword within reach and, after staring at the empty entrance for a while, lay down on the mat.

It couldn’t get any quieter than this.

In the capital, and even in this village, everything had always been noisy and irritating. This sudden silence wasn’t unpleasant. Maybe, just as his father said, training here wouldn’t be so bad.

Even the sound of rain, which usually grated on his nerves, didn’t bother him as it seeped in from the cave entrance.

And so Hong Yeom-rang closed his eyes.

Srrk, srrk.

Even someone as sharp as him could barely sense it.

But he smelled it first. It was like wildflowers, or moss on trees, or the sweet end of honey from a hive. The moment he sensed something else in a space that should only contain him, Hong Yeom-rang stayed still with his eyes closed.

The crown of his head felt strangely ticklish.

He had fallen asleep without removing the hairband that held his topknot. Something carefully touched his hair. The moment he was certain it was right above him, Hong Yeom-rang shot out his left hand and grabbed its wrist. At the same time, his right hand gripped the sword.

Thwack.

With a twist of force, the scabbard flew off and struck the wall.

The sharpened blade was bared. The lamp swayed violently with his movement. Just as he thought what he’d grabbed felt too thin to be a proper wrist, it let out a scream.

“Hieeeek!”

It shrieked in shock and fell back hard onto its backside.

Faded clothes that barely showed their color under the dim lamp. The only thing that looked somewhat glossy was a silk sachet hanging under the jeogori. As it fell backward, the rest of it disappeared into the darkness. The weak struggle to pull its hand away was almost laughable, so Hong Yeom-rang dragged it further into the light.

It was pulled all the way onto the mat.

Only then did he clearly see the face.

Pale skin, lips without color, and large eyes filled with fear like a trapped animal.

“At least it’s not a ghost.”

No one had ever caught her before.

Hisa stared at Hong Yeom-rang with wide eyes. Seeing him up close, she understood why the shaman had cried so much. The shaman had only gotten her finger broken, but now a white blade was pointed straight at her.

“So you’re a monster.”

Having come to a conclusion, Hong Yeom-rang tossed Hisa onto the mat.

Out of habit, she bit the tip of her finger. She did that whenever she was flustered. Even when she had nothing to do, she would chew her fingertips, so all ten of them were always stained red. The bitten fingertip throbbed. What should she say. Why was she caught. She shouldn’t have been caught.

That was all that filled Hisa’s mind.

“Answer me. Are you a monster?”

Shing.

The tip of the sword hovered over her face as if it would stab down at any moment.

Hisa stared at the blade and kept biting her finger. To Hong Yeom-rang, the red-stained fingers on her pale hand stood out oddly. Even with a blade pointed at her, she didn’t seem intimidated. She didn’t try to escape either, only kept chewing her finger in an irritating way.

Can’t talk?

“…I’m Hisa.”

“What?”

Still chewing one hand nervously, she lifted the other and waved it lightly in greeting.

“My name’s Hisa.”

Thinking he hadn’t heard, she said it again. The mat she had ended up lying on was warm from his body heat and surprisingly comfortable.

“You think I’m introducing myself with you right now?”

He hadn’t asked for her name. And he didn’t care to know a monster’s name either. A monster lying there calmly, waving her hand like that, offering her name as if he should give his in return. It was shameless.

He’d let her be at the sacred tree because she hadn’t shown any killing intent.

Even now, there was none. He couldn’t feel any harmful aura. But she didn’t deny being a monster either. He hadn’t expected to catch it on the first day. Either she was stupid, or cunning enough to hide it.

Hong Yeom-rang narrowed his eyes.

The way she kept biting her finger irritated him. And that strange scent still lingered.

Finally, her fingertip split and blood welled out. Red. The same red as a living human’s blood. It smeared onto her lips, contrasting against her pale face. For some reason, Hong Yeom-rang felt like he was seeing something he shouldn’t and briefly looked away at the cave wall above her.

The blood flowed red.

Her wrist had been slender, but he had felt a pulse.

This wasn’t a monster. It was a person. Or at least something close to one. Still, someone who didn’t fear a blade pointed at her while lying defenseless wasn’t normal. A messenger of the mountain deity. He hadn’t expected himself to even consider such superstition.

“Tell me exactly what you are.”

I don’t care about your name.

Hong Yeom-rang asked through clenched teeth.

“I don’t know.”

The answer came clean and simple. He met her eyes, thinking she was messing with him, but they were full of genuine confusion.

…She might just be a village fool.

That thought crossed his mind.

“What’s your relationship with the shaman?”

“The shaman… she’s someone who’s nice to me.”

Some people relied completely on shamans, but most feared them and avoided those with spiritual power. Maybe the lonely shaman had ended up keeping company with this fool. Either way, he was the one who looked ridiculous now. Still, he wasn’t stupid enough to swing a sword at a fool.

Suspicious, but he could kill her anytime.

The feeling of how easily her wrist had been caught still lingered in his hand.

If she did anything strange, he could kill her then.

Hong Yeom-rang stared at Hisa silently before slowly lowering his sword. Even so, she remained lying on his mat, still chewing her fingertip. Without doing anything else, she stayed exactly where he had left her, settling in like she belonged there.

“It’s really warm here… can I sleep here tonight?”