The Savage Black Pup from the West
The world is most beautiful when divided into three powers. Stationed at the border as I am, I've seen all sorts of bizarre sights.
"Little brother. What the hell is that?"
"Have you gone senile already? Can't you tell it's a damn dog pup?"
At my brother's words, I looked at the beast he was holding.
- Gruk, grrrruk...!
Kerg, kyung!
No matter how I squinted, it didn't look like some ordinary mutt worthy of being called a "pup." Beasts possess instincts and senses that surpass even humans. That's why they wag their tails and pant eagerly at the sight of a powerful warrior.
But this one was going berserk like it had a death wish.
Of course, the real lunatic was the fool daring to call his elder brother senile.
"B-brother! Why'd you hit me out of nowhere?!"
"I didn't hit you. You just brushed against my swinging arm."
"Looks like it's not just your eyes that've aged—your mouth too."
At that insolence, I swung my arm again. Unfortunately, he dodged this time.
Well, getting caught by the same trick twice would be the real anomaly. For all his recklessness, he's no idiot.
'Who's the old one here?'
What irked me most was this punk of all people calling me old. Sure, I'm the elder brother and he's the younger, but he's actually four years my senior.
So his eyes and mouth should've gone first.
'Is that why he's acting up?'
It made sense. Daring to spout nonsense like "senile" to his sworn brother meant his brain was clearly addled. Truly tragic.
Just four years older than me, and already decay had set in. Even our Minister of State, twenty years my senior, was still hale and hearty.
'Repelled the barbarians and broke in the process?'
Still, breaking after putting out the fire was fortunate. If he'd lost it during the recent pirate rout at Huangshan, it would've been a headache. And if we'd failed there, the Three Hans would've still been in chaos.
It was a razor-thin margin that saved these lands.
"Brother? Why are you staring like that?"
"Just thinking how savage this pup from who-knows-where is. Hand it over."
I brushed off my brother's words and took the still-yapping mutt.
- Krraaah—
"Quiet."
It was barking loud enough to hurt my ears, so I shut its mouth first. Dogs bark—that's natural. But there's a limit. When the barker and listener are both exhausted, silence benefits everyone.
Time to teach this beast that truth.
- ...Kki-ing, kkiiing...
"Good boy."
I let out a sliver of my aura, and the foolhardy yapper finally quieted. Odd one. Most beasts submit long before it comes to this. To need overt pressure like that...
Orphaned and unraised, maybe?
"Where'd this thing come from?"
"From the west. Mongols or Han Song folk, probably."
"Mongols, then."
"If I had to pick one, yeah."
I shot a glance at my shrugging brother, then back to the pup. West meant either northern Mongols beyond the passes or Han Song south of them. And beast-related trouble? High odds on Mongols.
"Little brother."
"Yes, brother."
"How should I take this? A shy declaration of war from the barbarians?"
- Kyaeng, kyeng! Kyaeng!
My grip tightened unconsciously, and the now-quiet pup whimpered pathetically. Acting like a normal beast now? As if I'd let that slide.
"Got any leftover bones from yesterday's pork? Fetch one."
Of course not. I'd been bored lately. Among beasts, this odd pup had thrown itself into my arms—time to care for it until its last breath. Without these little diversions, state affairs wear you down.
"Yurincheong's gnawing it right now. Sucking the marrow like crazy, but shall I snatch it back?"
"Heh."
I sighed at the news it already had an owner. That one's quirky too. Horses should graze grass—why obsess over bones like a dog? Folks might think I starve it.
"Never mind. Snatch its meal, and it'll throw a fit for weeks. Might even buck me off in front of the troops."
"Now that I'd pay to see. A Divine Bow tumbling off his mount?"
"Hahaha, you rascal."
"Hahaha!"
I swung a fist at my laughing brother. This one landed square in the solar plexus—done with intent.
"Urk!"
Foolish brother. What happens once happens thrice. A truth to carry in your chest forever.
'What to do with this one.'
Anyway, Yurincheong chomping innocently aside, I eyed the black... no, the black dog in my hand. It had gone berserk despite a master nearby. Clearly some Mongol scheme, sent deliberately to the border.
But just one? Too deliberate for intent—hundreds would be needed for real mischief. What could one do?
"A gift, maybe?"
Had to wonder. A neighborly overture from the Mongols? With us holding Liaodong and western Liao, they'd want peace.
"Just a lost stray?"
"Hm?"
My writhing brother clutched his chest and spoke up.
"Mad as they are, Mongols aren't stupid. If scheming, they'd send more than one—and target Han Song, not us. No two-front war unless they're suicidal."
"Old Mongols waged three-front wars."
"Those old-timers are all dead."
True enough. The sandstorm-raising hordes of yore were gone. Timur's blood in their empire-builder, Kublai's in their founder—both diluted beyond recognition. The Emperor's veins probably ran thicker with it now.
Our wise sovereign, savior of the despairing Three Hans, gripper of Liaodong and western Liao. True sage-king, heir to Timur and Kublai's legacies.
"So you think coincidence?"
"Common sense says yes. Mongols don't always play sensible, but two fronts? No. Unless they want to crown our Emperor as Heavenly Khan."
"Ghastly thought."
Heavenly Khan reflexively furrowed my brow. For eastern realms like ours, it was worse than a unified Central Plains dynasty. Even northern nomads kneel to Zhongyuan might. History proves it: Emperor Wu of Han, Emperor Yang of Sui, Taizong and Gaozong of Tang. Subdue the steppe, then eye Liaodong and the Three Hans. And destroy them.
"Hmmm."
"Shall we squeeze some intel?"
"Yes. If we're right, Han Song's borders are chaos too—easy infiltration."
My brother nodded and withdrew.
"You're doomed with me."
I muttered at the black dog in my hand. He'd scout Han Song-Mongol borders, but more intel was always better. Even trifles beat nothing.
This black dog, reeking of Mongol plots—whoever saw it would agree. Sending it to Kaegyong would clarify things. Proper probe there might yield new leads.
Intel gathered faster than expected. Brother's scouts confirmed hundreds of beasts rampaging Han Song borders, key passes on high alert. Fine—our northeast frontier was close. A hard ride reveals that much. Commendable, not astonishing.
But Kaegyong's report on the black dog arrived soon after.
"Hear this, Yodong Do-sun-mun-sa!"
Direct from His Majesty, no less. The envoy, proxy of the throne, arrived in Liaodong. As loyal subject, I bowed; he proclaimed the imperial decree in booming tones.
"Savage barbarians stir once more—how can we not grieve and weep! Yet their blades turn not to these fair Three Hans, but Zhongyuan. Thus, Yodong Do-sun-mun-sa, set aside punishing the foe and hold your post!"
Whatever Kaegyong gleaned from the dog was moot—His Majesty decreed. I sought intel for ideal judgment; the sovereign showed the path. Who was I to decide? Kaegyong's happenings, the dog's nature—irrelevant now.
"Your subject, Yodong Do-sun-mun-sa Yi Seong-gye, obeys His Majesty's will!"
Merely a border warrior yielding to the throne.
Dochalwon's duties hadn't changed, but the mood had. Kaepyeong's bureaucrats were all acquaintances by proxy. With the Emperor declaring war, some departments geared for conflict—Dochalwon had ties, so tension seeped in.
Enduring the stifling silence, I clocked out early.
"Hmmm."
'Ah.'
At Giwangjeo, Grandfather's oppressive aura crushed me.
"Gr-Grandfather."
"Hm? Ah, Un's here."
I ventured cautiously; he softened belatedly.
"Sorry, lad. Deep in thought."
He chuckled sheepishly, as if truly lost in contemplation.
"May I ask what troubles you?"
"Of course. You'll learn soon anyway."
With a small sigh, he incinerated the letter in his hand with focused qi.
"Goryeo's sniffed out the anomaly. Patrols loitered our borders, then withdrew."
"Heavens."
I sighed involuntarily. This world's Goryeo dwarfed my past life's—swallowing all Liaodong and parts of the Hexi Corridor. Superpower Goryeo meddling pre-Mongol showdown? Headache didn't cover it. Ally with Mongols, and Daesong might lose Habuk outright. Huanghe as natural border, or South Song season two...
"No worries. They won't side with Mongols."
"Pardon?"
His confident tone drew a reflex question.
"Those madmen won't do us favors. Joining Mongols to crush us breaks the balance—Mongols resurge. Not ideal for Goryeo."
"Ah, yes."
"They'll watch us fight Mongols, then back the losing side. Balance-keepers, those lot."
I nodded vaguely, getting it. If Zhuge Liang divided Zhongyuan into three, Goryeo maintained a Northeast Asian triad.
'Bats.'
Best policy for them, though. Unified Zhongyuan tyrant or northern nomad revival—both irritants to Goryeo.