Great Mongol Empire - 5: Beasts at Odds
I've apparently been quite busy lately.
"Things piling up these days? You show up so sporadically."
As I visited the Gonghuwon, Do-cheol spoke up softly. It was a protest—not quite a protest—that my visit was truly long overdue. Even amid my fatigue, a smile crept onto my face.
At first, this place had made him uncomfortable, and he'd thrown tantrums left and right. When I tried to touch him, he'd freak out and shy away. Yet now, this child was waiting for my visits. How joyful that was.
"I have been busy. But I'll make an effort to come to the Gonghuwon more often from now on, so don't feel neglected."
"Neglected? As if. Whether you come or not has nothing to do with me."
I just nodded at Do-cheol's gruff reply. Arguing back here would only make him angry or sulky. There was no need to press him in the first place. He'd already admitted with his own mouth that he was waiting for me—what more could I gain by tormenting him?
"Just... when you're gone, Do-ol and Bonghwang cause a ruckus."
"Oh dear."
That was a bit troubling, drawing a wry smile from me. Do-cheol and Gi-rin had fought every time their eyes met at first. But thanks to Mu's mediation, the fights gradually lessened, and now they seemed accustomed to life in the Gonghuwon even without intervention, coexisting quietly.
But the relationship between Do-ol and Bonghwang was far more volatile than between Do-cheol and Gi-rin. You'd think creatures appearing in the same place on the same day would get along, but no such luck. Even with Mu's mediation, they quieted only in the moment. Even when I soothed them, they'd clash again the next day. Perhaps because they were freshly revived, they had the short tempers of true children.
Without me around, it must've been even worse.
I felt sorry for Mu. Taking care of four friends alone while I was away—how exhausting that must've been. Especially since Mu hated leaving the lake.
"By the way, they're fighting right now too. Gi-rin is trying to stop them, but it's not working."
"Let's hurry then."
I scooped Do-cheol into my arms and quickened my pace. No wonder I hadn't spotted Gi-rin; she was probably struggling against the two of them. I worried she might be getting pecked by Bonghwang and battered by Do-ol. Wasn't Gi-rin all that strong, really?
"Gi-ring!Gi-ri-ring!"
And as I walked, increasingly desperate cries from Gi-rin reached my ears.
"Bo-ooong!"
"Do-ro-rong!"
The enraged roars of Bonghwang and Do-ol followed. I could hear the fury in them.
"Do-cheol, why didn't you help break it up too?"
"Getting between those two would just ruin my fur. It's hard enough to maintain as is—I can't afford to make more trouble."
At Do-cheol's nonchalant words, I quietly stroked his fur. Indeed, this fluffy coat seemed to embody tremendous care and quality. I could almost imagine making clothes from it if we sheared him.
Hm?
As I petted him, I spotted a bare patch, as if it'd been forcibly yanked out. It was small enough to miss unless you looked closely, but once noticed, impossible to ignore.
What on earth had happened to cause such fur loss?
No way.
Come to think of it, Bonghwang's talons had seemed surprisingly strong. Had he gotten caught in the crossfire while breaking up Bonghwang and Do-ol, and been yanked bald? That would explain Do-cheol lounging around here instead. Having tasted the heat once, he had no desire for round two.
"...You saw it?"
As I paused my stroking, sensing the awkwardness, Do-cheol continued in a voice thick with bitterness.
"Nothing in this world is eternal. If something falls out, something else grows back in time."
I gently comforted him. These children revived even from death, so a bit of fur meant nothing. It was just something that would regrow with time. That's what I believed.
I finally pried Bonghwang and Do-ol apart, then soothed Gi-rin as she rushed into my arms upon seeing me.
"Gi-ring! Gi-ring! Gi-ri-ri-ring!"
"Yes, you've worked hard. I know well that you've been toiling for your friends in my absence."
"Gi-ri-ring!"
Gi-rin rubbed her face against me, almost whining about how tough it'd been without me. And truly, alongside Mu, she'd suffered the most, so I patted her diligently. Still, perhaps I should count this as fortunate—Gi-rin's body bore no real injuries. Bonghwang and Do-ol must not have harmed her. That left only the plucked Do-cheol looking pitiful, but we'd let it slide. A few tufts of fur hardly counted as injury.
"Bonghwang, you should listen when a friend tries to stop a fight. How can you keep battling like this?"
"Bo-ooong..."
"Do-ol, you should've been more careful too. Didn't I say for the time being to stick with Do-cheol?"
"Do-ro-rong..."
Anyway, after the ritual scolding for Bonghwang and Do-ol, I stroked their heads. These children's quarrels were a tradition spanning thousands of years. No mere human intervention would make such a tradition vanish overnight. The fact they at least pretended to listen when I stepped in—that respect for me, the Gonghuwon's master—would have to suffice.
"If you'd come more often, this wouldn't have happened."
"Gi-ring!"
Gi-rin nodded enthusiastically at Do-cheol's blunt remark. He was right. From now on, busy or not, I needed to show my face here without fail. Had I skipped today, how forlornly Gi-rin would've cried.
"More importantly, you said you're busy—what exactly is keeping even the emperor from showing his face? Don't you have hordes of underlings at your command?"
"As emperor, I must set an example above all. If I leave everything to the bureaucrats, how could they uphold the throne? If he's a do-nothing, better to plop a scarecrow on it instead."
I let out a small chuckle, then took in the sight of Do-cheol and Gi-rin, Bonghwang and Do-ol. I wasn't sure about the Four Evils, Do-cheol and Do-ol, but the Four Auspicious Beasts, Gi-rin and Bonghwang, were called kings of beasts. Among them, Gi-rin ruled furred beasts, Bonghwang winged ones.
Fur and wings.
Perfect counters to the Mongols. Their favored horses, dogs, cattle, sheep—all furred beasts. And their eagles had wings, didn't they? Perhaps through these children, we could neutralize Mongol schemes.
But these were beings who never meddled in human affairs. That strict non-interference had relegated the Auspicious Beasts and Evils to mere legends among humans, not living spirit beasts but mythical figures. They'd kept such thorough distance from humanity.
Even my time with them was coincidence upon coincidence. I couldn't shatter their convictions over mere happenstance. True, Bonghwang had dealt much with humans, but only to fight Do-ol—a special case.
"Do-cheol."
"What?"
Still, I spoke up.
"Suppose I asked a favor of you all?"
As emperor, for this nation, my people, the world's peace, I'd do anything. Refraining from even trying based on my lone speculation would be dereliction.
"A favor?"
"It's related to why I've been so busy. Lately, the war with the northern Mongols—"
"No."
Before I finished, Do-cheol shook his head firmly.
"If it were a personal favor from you, I might consider it. No great grudge here, and I'm indebted to your household, receiving all sorts of care. But national matters? That's different."
"Because it's human affairs?"
"Exactly. Since Jin's Spirit Sovereign claimed the throne as emperor, we've severed ties with humans. From that day, humans needed no gods to worship, and we lost reason to intervene. That's held to this day."
Gi-rin, Bonghwang, and Do-ol's gazes turned to me now too, silently backing Do-cheol's words.
"Of course, our roots are in the Central Plains. As beings of the Central Plains, outsiders aren't exactly welcome—but that's no reason for us to step in. Whether you defeat those outsiders or ultimately fall—it's just human business."
"I see."
Disappointing, but within expected bounds. If these children had guarded against outsiders, Central Plains history would've drastically changed. No fall of Western Jin, no Five Barbarians; no Xianbei in Hebei; no Liao, Jin, Yuan conquests.
No helping it, then.
I accepted it. History proved the Auspicious Beasts and Evils' neutrality. Daesong repelling the Mongols and their resurgence now—these were events unrelated to these children.
"Sorry for the pointless talk. Yes, humans must resolve human matters."
"Well, unified dynasties last at least a century, short ones. Sometimes the second emperor's a lunatic and it crumbles in decades—but you're no lunatic. You'll beat back the Mongols, come what may."
Do-cheol's consolation drew a burst of laughter from me. Second emperors who'd ruined unified dynasties through incompetence and tyranny: Jin's Huai, Western Jin's Sima Chong, Sui's Yang Guang came immediately to mind.
Suddenly, my heart felt at peace. I might not match Taizu or the late Gojo as sage rulers, but at least I wasn't on their level of tyrants.
With the beast enchantment complete, I dispatched them to their forward bases. At my command, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands, millions would surge south toward the Central Plains in unison. Beasts charging on all fours would inevitably breach defenses. Steppe warriors might stall at the Great Wall, but beasts would infiltrate the heartlands, sowing chaos everywhere.
That would force the Central Plains fools into dual fronts: one purging beasts scattered across their lands and protecting civilians, the other holding the wall against my warriors.
How will you cope, I wonder?
The Central Plains are vast, its people numerous. If not just the borders but the entire realm becomes a battlefield, what countermeasures will you muster? As your rear civilians die and farmlands burn, what faces will you make? Busy checking your own murim, can you handle a two-front war?
"Enjoying some pleasant imaginings, are we?"
I turned at the low, sinister voice. A winged tiger—Gong-gi—watched me with a smirk.
"Delightful. Utterly delightful. A strategy demanding heavy blood from the foe—how could it not be?"
"Heh heh, doesn't guarantee you'll win, though?"
"Does that matter?"
At my reply, the tiger—Gong-gi—burst into booming laughter.
"You're right! It doesn't! Who wins? What of it? Both bleeding out, crippled—that's what counts!"
I turned away as Gong-gi laughed alone. Once he started like that, he'd be busy cackling for a while. No point sticking around; he wouldn't spare me a glance.
What a lunatic.
Gong-gi. A mythical being from Central Plains legends. Strange enough that such an entity lurked not in the Central Plains but these steppes. A few years back, I'd bluntly asked why—a Central Plains creature aiding barbarians?
"Why, you ask? ...Because it's fun."
After that answer, I was certain: judge this madman by no common sense.