Busy with Farming - 2
Just as the Mongols had unleashed their beast legions inside Great Song territory to sow chaos, we had slipped a dagger called the North Sea Ice Palace right into the heart of their rear. A war that began with each side firing warning shots at the other. It felt oddly subtle that the Song and Mongol armies still hadn't even laid eyes on each other. Not like we were fighting some proxy war or anything.
Anyway, having successfully forged an alliance with the North Sea Ice Palace, I planned to head straight back to Kaepyeong. But the palace lord insisted he couldn't just send off honored guests from afar without a feast. 'Yeah, it would feel a bit rude to leave without attending.' As a human named Han Un, I wanted to rush back to Kaepyeong and see my wife. But thinking as a Great Song official, it was only proper to enjoy the banquet before departing. Even envoys from a superior state visiting just to throw their weight around got treated like kings in vassal lands—what more for emissaries who had brokered harmony between two powers? For the sake of flaunting our new friendship, it was right to show our faces at the feast.
Besides, Kki-ing-i had played a huge role in this alliance.
"The founding palace lord left a prophecy here at the North Sea Ice Palace: 'A pure white beast will arrive on the warm southern winds. The North Sea Ice Palace shall shatter thick ice and press forward, conquering the bitter cold.' It was clearly meant for you honored guests."
That was what the palace lord had said after negotiations wrapped up. The reason the deputy lord and guards had marveled at Kki-ing-i, and why the palace lord himself had rushed out from his office to the door. A prophecy from the founding lord? How could they refuse? The Mongols were already pissing me off like mad dogs begging for a smackdown. And here comes a southern nation offering alliance, bringing along the exact pure white beast from the prophecy? From the Ice Palace's perspective, it was like a dream come true.
So we had to attend the feast, show off not just our faces but Kki-ing-i's presence across the entire palace. That would give them solid justification for joining the war against the Mongols. Plus, it would boost their confidence in victory. 'Well done, my Kki-ing-i.'
Watching the bustling Ice Palace folk prepare for the feast, I stroked Kki-ing-i's neck. I'd brought her along thinking, 'People in a frozen place must be used to white, right?' Who knew their fondness for white went beyond colors to outright worshiping white spirit beasts? Bringing Kki-ing-i had been the best decision ever. Honestly, she handled most of the negotiations, not me.
"I wonder if the Ministry of Rites will give you an honorary post or something."
- Kki-iing?
"You did great."
- Kki-ing!
At the straightforward praise, Kki-ing-i let out a pleased cry and rubbed her face against my chest. Thanks, Kki-ing-i. The Ministry of Rites wouldn't grant honorary posts to beasts, but in my heart, you're the honorable Vice Minister of Rites...
"You've come all this way, so let's stuff ourselves before heading back. They might even uproot a palace pillar for you."
- Kki-iing~
Her eyes sparkled at that. While the other spirit beasts lounged comfortably in Kaepyeong, Kki-ing-i had crossed the steppes alone. Of course she'd get her fill of food. It was someone else's money footing the bill, but an ally's funds were practically our own anyway.
The road back to Jiayu Pass was peaceful as could be. The path from Jiayu to the Ice Palace, the negotiations there, and now returning to Jiayu. Under normal circumstances, all three were insanely tough feats. But overwhelming connections—human and beast alike—had smoothed the way. Life really was meant to be lived with others, not alone. If it'd just been me, I wouldn't have even reached the Ice Palace yet.
'I'd have been dodging Mongols left and right.' Traversing deep in enemy territory meant no straight shots—just endless detours to stretch the route and avoid detection. Without an overwhelming powerhouse like Grandfather, that's exactly what I'd have done. Hell, the Mongols might've figured out my destination and pre-positioned troops along the paths to the palace. I'd have shed bloody tears getting blocked at the gates.
Just imagining it was terrifying. 'Thank goodness Grandfather came along.' Truly. The Emperor's Embroidered Uniform Guards were solid peak-realm escorts, but without the Hwagyeong commandant himself leading, safety wasn't guaranteed. If Koke Temur ambushed us, those peak experts and guards would all die. Actually, even with the commandant, it wouldn't be 100% safe. Koke Temur had been Hwagyeong before the commandant was even born—a total monster veteran. Same realm, but his experience was on another level. If he struck with intent, the commandant might survive, but I'd be d-e-a-d.
'...Still, I didn't expect them to do absolutely nothing.' Relief at survival gave way to questions about the Mongols' unusual silence. Zhongshan Wang, suffering beast attacks in Habuk, would probably rage that this wasn't silence. But compared to Habuk, Gansu felt eerily quiet.
Didn't it make sense for them to realize a Hwagyeong-including delegation heading north meant we were planting a bomb in their backyard—the Ice Palace? Yet they let it slide? Mongols were brutal and conscienceless, but not brainless.
'Maybe they figured they couldn't stop it anyway, so they let us go?' The most plausible theory. With Grandfather along, even Koke Temur couldn't promise total victory, and the Ice Palace vibe screamed inevitable war with the Mongols. If it was unavoidable, why waste manpower?
That's what I'd told myself, spinning happy circuits—until I saw the weary Jiayu commandant.
"Congratulations on your safe return."
He'd grown haggard in the short time we'd been gone.
"We made it back fine, but you don't look so hot yourself. Something happen?"
Grandfather voiced concern at the commandant's pallor too. It wasn't the kind you could brush off as mere fatigue from duties.
"How could there be no trouble when the northern barbarians bare their savage fangs? It's merely a minor border skirmish."
The commandant shook his head lightly at Grandfather's question.
"Yet even that small ripple is a massive calamity for our poor subjects. How lamentable and heartbreaking."
"Hoo."
The implication of dire events hung heavy, unfiltered.
"The barbarous, rude foreigners always make the people suffer. To prevent such tragedies, our exalted ancestor rose with great righteousness—yet these barbarians stir chaos anew. As you say, commandant, it's lamentable."
Grandfather clicked his tongue softly and patted the commandant's shoulder.
"Let's head inside first and talk. You'll collapse standing there."
"Your Highness is sturdier than anyone—how could—"
"Not me—you."
"……."
The commandant fell silent at Grandfather's genuine worry. Honestly, I felt the same. Even accounting for his high realm, that condition screamed collapse incoming.
The reason for the commandant's exhaustion was clear.
"Disturbances have begun in Gansu too. Reports of ferocious beasts sighted by civilians keep pouring in."
The beast rampage flipping Habuk and Shanxi had finally hit quiet Gansu. Yeah, they'd held out a while. Even if the main Mongol invasion route was Habuk-Shanxi, Gansu bordered them too—a key stronghold. It was weirder that simultaneous outbreaks hadn't happened sooner.
"It was bound to happen. But we knew beasts would rampage, right? You weren't caught off guard, so why the panic?"
'Exactly.' I stared at the commandant. He wasn't Zhongshan Wang, blindsided by a preemptive strike—he knew the Mongol playbook. He'd prepared for Gansu turning into Habuk and Shanxi eventually. Yet his face was this dark?
That meant either he'd slacked on defenses or something beyond expectations had erupted. 'The latter, probably.' I sighed inwardly. The commandant I knew wasn't incompetent or careless. Even in my past life, he'd been arrogant from merits and skill, but never inept.
"As Your Highness knows, Gansu is barren compared to Habuk and Shanxi, with fewer people. Positively, fewer places to defend—but conversely, fewer settlements mean we're vulnerable to stealthy infiltrations."
"True. Can't garrison troops everywhere in these deserts and wastelands."
Grandfather nodded at the explanation. Bustling areas have key points and people, but also eyes, troops, and supplies for tight security. Barren zones have less to protect, but fewer resources too—once enemies commit, breaches are inevitable. How do you block every crawler from deserts or mountains? Block major army paths and call it good.
"So despite preparations, we couldn't contain the damage. No clue how many beasts slipped in or how far they've spread. Civilian reports help, but plenty can't even report."
The commandant sighed deeply. Admitting shortcomings before the Iron King and an inspector wasn't easy.
'Terrain's the issue—no helping it.' But we couldn't blame him. Negligent soldiers deserved death, but those bleeding out in harsh conditions earned pardon.
"It's so shameful I can't lift my head. Farmers' sweat and tears built those crops, now trampled by those vile beasts—what face do I have to show?"
Forgivable or not, mounting losses in barren Gansu—ruining hard-won farms—was horrific. 'This is insane.' Gansu output was already poor... If this hit before harvest, what then...?