The Cat Tribe (1): Barbed Wire
Ogre Power Gauntlet.
A gauntlet that supposedly granted its wearer the strength of an ogre.
—Ogre-nim, one round!
A gauntlet that could tear a bronze goblet in half, stop a dragon’s kick cold, and even let you trade blows with ogres and yakshas…
“Haha, just kidding. Nothing like that actually exists.”
And indeed, nothing of the sort existed.
This guy?
Was he messing with me?
Was he angling to get arrested for insulting a noble? While I stared at him, Mr. Bruno simply grinned and went on.
“But if you look carefully, something similar might turn up.”
“Pardon?”
If it doesn’t exist, it doesn’t exist. What did he mean by “might”?
“I’ve heard that the continent’s mages sometimes borrow magical power to forge comparable artifacts. Or the dwarf race might be able to make one.”
“Dwarves?”
“A race of born craftsmen. Even human masters who reach the highest ranks are said to be no better than apprentices beside them.”
Other races, all of a sudden.
Come to think of it…
There had been information about such peoples in the original’s memories as well. They were practically legendary, though—almost never appearing in the human world, and so stubborn that even when they did show up, getting help from them was nearly impossible.
“Where do they live?”
“Hard to say. Long ago I heard they lived somewhere in the northern snowfields too… but my grandfather, and his grandfather before him, were all tanners, and not one of them ever actually saw a dwarf.”
At that rate it was basically folklore.
Since it was nothing more than gossip, I simply nodded along. Still—
“I’d like to meet one someday.”
“Heh-heh. Do you have some job you’d like to put them to?”
“Nothing in particular.”
If I can, I want them filing residency papers.
The North had jack squat for resources. Fresh talent was always welcome.
The sun was climbing, and with a full belly of gukbap I decided it was time to head back to the Grand Duchy. The concrete wall project had already entered its final phase, and the ogre itself had kindly provided a live stress test, so I could leave with a light heart.
“Everyone, take care of yourselves.”
“Come again!! Young Master!!”
“We’ll always be waiting for you, Young Master!!”
Leaving behind a send-off that made it sound as if I were departing forever, I returned to the Grand Duchy and went straight to find Max.
“You’ve come.”
“I’ve arrived, sir.”
After asking around and learning he was in the conference room, I walked in to find Darius already deep in discussion with him. Their faces were unusually grave, so I quietly pulled up a chair and sat.
“Please continue.”
“No need. We’ve already reached a conclusion.”
“Already?”
“Yes. I was about to report on the mutant ogre when I discovered the Young Master had already sensed the disturbances in the North.”
Big Brother?
I glanced sideways. Darius, who normally wore nothing but a booming grin, now nodded with a heavy expression.
“Yeah. I’ve been patrolling the North and tracking the strange movements of the monsters. You saw it too—how many more villages have been hit these past weeks.”
Had I?
Wasn’t that just normal?
According to the original’s memories, the North was constantly harassed by wild beasts and monsters. There had always been a baseline. Darius insisted that baseline had spiked sharply these last few weeks.
Ah. So this is the gap between book knowledge and the real thing.
My inherited memories were like recalling a novel I’d read years ago. No matter how much practical training you get the day you report to a new unit, it still isn’t the same as actually running the field.
I realized my own failure and grimaced.
“I failed to notice.”
“Don’t. You’ve been running yourself ragged since you woke up. Besides, this was my responsibility to begin with.”
I might have been sticking my nose into everything, but the true heir of the house was Darius Wintershield, not me. Naturally he hadn’t been sitting idle.
When the Grand Duke is away, security falls to Darius.
In a peaceful city the security chief just walks the streets. This place was medieval Gotham—an otherworld version of the worst back alleys. Ever since I had woken, Darius had been out on almost daily expeditions; he had long since noticed the monsters’ abnormal behavior and had been hunting for a solution.
“So, anything useful?”
“For now it looks like the source is Jangbaek Mountain.”
Jangbaek Mountain.
Of course this was not the roof of the Korean peninsula, that murim hideout of reclusive masters. That was Changbai Mountain; this was Jangbaek Mountain—different characters, same general idea of a sacred, forbidding peak of the North.
“The place where the White River is born. The mountain is deep and the terrain so savage that successive Grand Dukes never even tried to subjugate it. It’s called another homeland of monsters. The creatures that live there almost never leave the mountain, so Northerners have always kept their distance… until now.”
“For some reason the monsters living there have begun a mass southward migration.”
“Seems that way.”
Not an easy thing to hear. It was like being told armed North Korean units had crossed the DMZ. How could anyone take that lightly?
“Any countermeasures yet?”
“That’s what we were about to discuss.”
Two problems.
First: the Jangbaek monsters that had turned into runaway ninjas en masse.
Second: whatever had driven them out in the first place.
The first might actually be manageable. From what I gathered, Darius had been so busy precisely because he had been roaming the North and crushing the escapees one by one before they could form some kind of Akatsuki. The stragglers that remained could be further contained once the concrete walls I was scattering across the North were finished.
So the real problem was the second.
“Meaning we have to find out what the hell is causing the upheaval inside Jangbaek Mountain…”
“It won’t be easy. The place is vast.”
Max shook his head as though recalling an old nightmare. Something in his expression made me ask,
“Butler, do you have personal experience with Jangbaek Mountain?”
“I do. In fact… before you were even born, Young Master, that mountain was where I was stationed.”
“At Jangbaek Mountain?”
“Yes. I told you last time I came from the Extermination Unit. We hunt down those who commit crimes in the North and then flee. Now, where would a man who has already committed crimes inside the North run to?”
“Ah.”
Criminals always hide beyond the reach of authority. No one who had sinned in the North would be mad enough to cross the Great Wall, so the only options were to slip into Imperial territory proper or to vanish into Jangbaek Mountain—the so-called Demon Realm even within the Grand Duchy.
So he came from the unit that hunts and kills those people…
No wonder they called him the Slayer of the Seventh Night. A “slayer” was an epithet that stuck only to men whose job was ending lives.
“Based on that experience, I can tell you an exploration of Jangbaek Mountain is not a one- or two-day affair. When I worked alone I could dig a hole and make a hideout. With a mutant monster of this influence, we would need a large army. That army alone will draw every nearby monster’s attention and force more battles than we want.”
“A pure waste of combat power.”
A classic dilemma. Not a short raid, yet any prolonged stay with a large force would paint a target on our backs.
At this rate…
Wait.
A thought struck me.
If the problem was that bringing a large force would aggro monsters we didn’t need to fight, why not reverse it and simply bury every last one of them?
“…What did you just say?”
Darius stared at me as if I had grown a second head.
Fair enough. Avoiding combat entirely was one thing; proposing to win every fight was another. If that were easy we wouldn’t be having this conversation.
But—
“It’s perfectly possible if we aren’t the ones invading their territory. If the monsters are the ones invading us.”
“How are those two any different?”
Because it’s their home ground, of course.
I answered in a calm voice while Darius tilted his head.
“Have you ever heard of backyard parasiting?”
About a week later.
The moment the problem was recognized, the Grand Duchy finished the bare minimum of preparations and ordered a large force out to Jangbaek Mountain. This was not a crisis that improved with delay; identifying the cause was mandatory. Once they heard my plan, the troops marched out with startling speed.
What actually took time was—
“You want to go too? Little brother, what nonsense is that?”
—getting permission to join the expedition myself.
Max and Darius both nearly leapt out of their seats to stop me.
But—
“No. I have to go myself.”
I, Logwell Wintershield.
In my previous life I had been known as a Cheorwon shit-kicker who had rotated through every miserable field unit imaginable. My personal presence was essential for the plan to succeed.
The core of this operation is planting a field unit right in the middle of Jangbaek Mountain.
What made exploring the mountain so costly was the endless series of field battles that bled combat power. Flip the paradigm into a pure defensive fight and that leakage vanished.
I haven’t earned enough trust to push deep yet, though.
Time was short and a larger disaster could erupt at any moment, so rather than waste breath arguing, Darius decided we would at least go as far as the entrance and test the concept.
A little disappointing, but…
Reaching the entrance was necessary anyway, so he had granted permission as a package deal. I would have preferred to plant the base deeper, but without the entrance-only condition the idea would never have been accepted. I could live with this much.
After another week of marching we finally stood before Jangbaek Mountain.
“That’s…”
“First time seeing it, little brother? Yeah. That mountain is Jangbaek.”
A landscape that had never appeared even in the original’s memories unfurled before us. Rugged ranges stretched without end, filling the entire horizon. Nothing that crawled out of those slopes would have surprised me.
“Impressive. But we don’t have time to admire the view. Have the soldiers deploy ‘that’ first.”
“Hmm. All right. Let’s do it.”
At my request the Northern soldiers began spreading the materials they had hauled. They had always planned to raise a temporary camp; now, under my instructions, they installed the items I had ordered the blacksmiths to produce over the previous week.
Not everyone was silent about it.
“Is this really all right?”
“What do you mean?”
“Shouldn’t we be planting the wooden stakes first?”
“Honestly, I’m uneasy too. But these are the Second Young Master’s orders. Besides, this is only the entrance. Deeper in would be different, but here we can afford a little leeway.”
“True enough…”
Anxious murmurs drifted among the working men. The knowledge that they were still only at the foot of the mountain was the only comfort they allowed themselves.
Work was in full swing when—
“All hands, prepare for battle!!!”
Darius’s roar suddenly shook the entire site.
Soldiers dropped their tools and snatched up weapons in the same breath.
A moment later—
Kukukukukuku!!
A ground-shaking thunder rolled across the slope, and a pack of pure-white beasts shaped like tigers burst into view.
“Snowfield Saber-Tooth Tigers?! Those only appear in the central ranges—why are they at the entrance?!”
“Something really is wrong!”
Startled soldiers cried out.
“Second Young Master! Fall back!”
Max, who had come as my escort, went pale and tried to pull me behind him.
I stepped forward instead.
“I’m fine.”
“Y-Young Master?”
In those few seconds the Snowfield Saber-Tooth Tigers closed on the temporary camp. They saw the barrier blocking their path, snarled with redoubled fury, and charged.
“Keong-keong-keong-keong!”
“Keong-keong-keong-keong-keong!”
They meant to smash straight through and shred the wall. Soldiers locked their grips on their weapons, bracing for the impact.
Then the collision came.
“Kkae-gae-gae-gae-gaeng!”
“Kkae-gae-gaeng!!!”
The unmistakable sound of dogs being thrashed on the dog days of summer rang out across the snow.
“Wh-what?”
“What the—?”
“This is it!”
Even the soldiers froze in confusion at the completely unexpected reality. I alone shouted in triumph.
“What?! Little brother!! What in the world is that?!”
Even Darius spun toward me, eyes wide.
“Ah. That?”
I looked at the Snowfield Saber-Tooth Tigers that had charged headlong into the lurker field and been shredded like marines dying gloriously on the charge, and answered with complete satisfaction.
“It’s called barbed wire.”