The Eve of Battle, All the More
Once she changed into ordinary clothes, something felt off.
“Uuuuuuugh…”
Hoeyeon felt a twinge of unease that a person probably shouldn’t feel this way — but after spending the past three full days in an outfit that covered only her chest and a certain portion of her lower body, it was only natural.
“I’ll get used to it again soon enough…”
“What are you muttering about?”
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
Gayul asked, but Hoeyeon let the answer slide and simply tightened the knots of her clothes.
Three days spent honing their power in a special environment. One day spent adapting, in ordinary fashion, to their new states. On the fifth day, they would strike the enemy’s stronghold.
“But even if we’re spending it ordinarily — what exactly are we supposed to do?”
“Exactly what it sounds like. Spend it ordinarily, no?”
“You said not to just lie around, though.”
Hoeyeon shot back.
“There must be any number of things. For instance…”
Gayul’s words trailed off there.
“…A walk?”
“Walking all day long?”
“Hmm…”
While Gayul sank into thought, Hoeyeon remembered something Gayul still hadn’t used.
The right to demand anything of Hoeyeon — once.
Arang and Yujeong had already each cashed theirs in, gotten into trouble, and been forgiven. Only Hoeyeon was still waiting.
“Isn’t there something you want from me?”
“Something I want?”
Gayul tilted her head.
“In what sense? Something long-term, or something short?”
“You claimed the right to make one demand of me, remember? Don’t tell me you got that angry claiming it and then forgot—”
“I did not forget!”
Gayul cried out. Her face was red.
…Why is her face red?
“It’s just…”
Gayul lowered her head.
“There are too many… I couldn’t choose just one. I’m sorry for making you wait…”
“…”
Hoeyeon felt her own face growing faintly warm as well.
“It’s getting hot in here.”
Yujeong’s voice suddenly cut in, and Gayul nearly jumped out of her skin.
“Yu-Yujeong? How long have you been listening?”
“From the very beginning, together with this humble one.”
“You as well!?”
“We were right outside the door. How could we not hear?”
Yujeong said it as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Honestly, Hoeyeon felt the same way.
“Th-that is… a fair point…”
“So then — what is it you want Hoeyeon to do for you that there are so many of them?”
“Is it so strange that there would be many!?”
“We all have many, do we not!”
“Hey, don’t look so proud about that.”
Hoeyeon’s head was spinning.
“I-I have a lot too, you know!?”
“I said stop competing over it…”
As Hoeyeon pressed a hand to her forehead, Arang hummed thoughtfully and spoke.
“In that case, why not simply list them all out once?”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Speak them all, and then discuss among us which ones might be good. At the very least, it should be easier than fretting over it alone.”
“Mmm… Well, true enough. If it were anyone else I might feel differently, but there’s no need to be overly shy in front of them…”
Gayul looked as though she had steeled herself.
“Th-then I shall speak freely, without regard for order.”
Everyone nodded. Gayul drew a deep breath.
“I want to walk hand in hand.”
At that unexpectedly humble wish, everyone fell silent.
Gayul twisted her fingers together and continued.
“Not just anywhere for a short while. I want to stroll through a place where people live, holding Hoeyeon’s hand. And… I want Hoeyeon to pick out something pretty for me. Clothes or accessories — I don’t much mind the type, but preferably something I can easily carry with me every day.”
Her gaze stayed fixed downward, fingers still tangled with fingers, as Gayul kept going.
“I also want her to tell me she loves me — though I’ve already heard that… Of course, I would gladly hear it as many times as she likes… And… the rest are, well, of a more… nighttime nature…………”
Gayul’s face, which had been sinking lower and lower, was by the end pointed straight at the floor.
“…Damn, I seriously want to wreck her.”
“Arang, your usual filter just slipped. For the record, I agree. Yujeong, stop drooling on your clothes.”
“…slurp.”
“W-what is the meaning of this! You were the ones who told me to be honest!”
Gayul jerked her head up in protest.
“In the first place, you lot pushed me far, far too hard back then! That is how this whole mess started!”
She wasn’t wrong.
“Then, a proposal… Ahem.”
Arang cleared her throat with a theatrical aah, ahem and spoke again.
“This humble one has a proposal.”
Hyeoneum had gone mad.
Anyone could tell just by looking at him — draped in a crude, slapdash imitation of imperial robes, flying into rages at the slightest provocation and forgetting them just as quickly.
Madness, however, had not damaged his capacity for thought.
“Dying on their own!! Trying to do things no one even ordered them to do!”
Hyeoneum slammed the desk. General Cheon stroked his beard with a thoughtful hmmm.
“It seems excessive piety was the problem after all.”
The “dying on their own” referred to the most recently created Avatar — Sarye.
There were, broadly speaking, two methods of summoning Him — that being so vast and great He could not cross over from the other side whole.
The first was to tear open a hole large enough. One could never open a hole large enough for Him to pass through entirely, but as large as possible.
The second was to bring Him across piece by piece, and reassemble Him on this side.
Creating Avatars served both purposes at once.
But having them die the moment they were made was a problem.
They needed to appear as living miracles to expand the cult. They needed to keep channeling His power into this world. And in times of danger, they needed to serve as fighting strength.
“And yet! They just! Dropped dead!!!! Aaaaaaargh!!! Mocking Us — mocking Us!!!!!!”
While Hyeoneum shrieked, General Cheon tried to stroke his beard the other way with his other hand. That hand, however, had been replaced with metal in the last battle — and snipped the beard clean off like a pair of shears.
“Oh dear. How clumsy of me.”
He put on a show of human-like regret, but paid not the slightest attention to the whiskers scattered across the floor.
“Which is why this humble one has been thinking of something.”
“Thinking? You possess something that could be called your own thoughts?”
It was not an insult calling the general stupid.
It was, quite literally, a sharp question: whether the very concept of independent thought still remained within that being.
Without answering, General Cheon continued.
“What of one with no faith at all?”
“What?”
“Sarye’s problem was that her faith ran far too deep. And finding someone with just the right amount of faith, like Sasa, is no easy task. So what of one with none whatsoever?”
“Among those who volunteer to become Avatars, where would you find one without faith?”
You couldn’t just go around stabbing people with a dagger and expect them all to become Avatars. There would be some effect, certainly — but the process consumed a great deal of Hyeoneum’s magic, so forcing it on the unwilling was more loss than gain.
“There is one. No faith at all… Or rather, in a certain sense, strength itself may be that one’s faith.”
“…Strength?”
“One obsessed with strength, obsessed with victory — one who believes there is no reason to live without both. Faith enough, I would say.”
“And where is such a person?”
Groups unusually fixated on strength and victory did exist, though rarely to that extreme.
Surely not.
“Enter.”
At General Cheon’s word, a single warrior stepped inside.
“One this humble one met on the battlefield, back when I still drew a salary from the court.”
“Well now… You’ve brought me something interesting.”
The man was a swordsman past the prime of his body.
And a Gwiin — Oni-kin — with two horns rising from his brow. Looking at Hyeoneum, his cold violet eyes remained cold as he curved his lips.
It looked like an attempt to mimic a smile, and yet it was nothing of the sort. At that expression, Hyeoneum burst into roaring laughter.
“Excellent! You there! Prepare the ritual at once!!”
“Are you not staring a bit too much in that direction?”
“Sorry…”
Yujeong stopped glancing toward where Hoeyeon and Gayul would be, and returned her gaze to Arang.
She’d said it like a scolding, but Arang wasn’t doing much better herself. She was simply more practiced than Yujeong at hiding where her eyes wandered — and had only been teasing.
Arang’s proposal to the four of them had been this: spend a full day playing in a nearby large city.
With one condition. Only one of the three would be with Hoeyeon at a time.
They would rotate who accompanied Hoeyeon by set intervals, so that each could enjoy her company completely alone. Then in the evening — or at night — they would all reunite.
“Is this really all right, when we fight tomorrow…?”
“Is it not precisely because we fight tomorrow that one must properly unburden the heart the day before? So this humble one believes.”
Gayul had gone out with Hoeyeon first. Which was why Arang and Yujeong were here together in one corner of the city — horns, ears, and tails all concealed.
“Still… thank you for making this suggestion today.”
“? What brings this on so suddenly?”
Yujeong grinned bashfully.
“I really, truly love Hoeyeon-eonni, you know?”
“What of it? Do we not all?”
“But I also wanted to get a little closer with you and Gayul. You’re both genuinely wonderful people.”
“…”
Arang was so startled she missed her cue to reply.
“…If I’m the only one who feels that way, then I’m sorry…”
“No, no. It is only that… this humble one has been caught off guard. I once joked about an inner court, but I am truly impressed.”
Arang admitted it honestly, and praised her.
Yujeong’s words had been nothing but her sincere feelings.
In a certain sense, that was the most remarkable thing about her.
“My, my. Perhaps the truly frightening one is neither this humble one nor Gayul, but you.”
“Hoeyeon-eonni doesn’t even make the list?”
“Hoeyeon is not the type to scheme behind people’s heads — you know that as well as I do.”
Having said so, Arang laughed. A pleasant laugh.
“Well then — shall the two of us enjoy this stretch of time together?”
“Yes!”