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𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔩𝔧𝔥 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦

pairing: lee jihoon x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, hong jisoo, xu minghao, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, major character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 20k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @lovrehani, @hipsdofangirl

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔳𝔦𝔦

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 7𝔱𝔥, 666 - ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Sometime after the incident between Jihoon and you, you begin to move northward, back to Hanseong. Nearly a month after its liberation from the Goguryeo forces, the Hwarang settled on a private estate just outside of the city’s walls. Youngmin had been reluctant to return to the battlefields, but after several conversations with Jihoon, he’d become convinced otherwise. 

Until the preparations to siege Pyongyang were in place, you would be set up in Hanseong to train. Hansol had gone to a town some ways south to train in Tang weaponry with one of Wong Kunhang’s assistants, Hao Chujun. Seungcheol and Soonyoung had left with the Fury Corps along the naval route to Bakjak as they were not permitted to travel to Hanseong. 

“Do you know where the Gukseon Kwak is?” A voice calls out to you, and you turn to see Kim Dohoon standing there, his eyes wide. 

“I think he’s reading in his room,” you have to think of when you last saw him. Weight shifting from foot to foot you try not to look concerned, “Is something the matter?” 

“It’s nothing in particular, but…” There’s a peculiar expression on his face you can’t quite grasp. “I can’t shake this worrying feeling like he’s lost the will for us to fight again since the last time we were here…” 

“Hmm…” You purse your lips, “I don’t think that’s the case. I can’t say that he’s completely lost his will to fight.”

Dohoon is hesitant to respond as he stays quiet, eventually speaking again, “You’re probably right, huh? I mean, Commander Lee is still giving his all for him. I’m sure he’ll return to his old self soon enough.” With that, Dohoon quickly scurries off, racing back into the depths of the manor. 

As you watch him, you can’t help but let his words sting you a little. Youngmin certainly had lost some of that ambitious fire he’d always had in his eyes as of late. If he wasn’t holed up reading in his room, he’d spend time in solitude out in the garden. Yet, you hold on hope that his confidence had deflated only a little after the battle in Hanseong. 

Prompted by the meeting with Dohoon, you decide to pay the Chief a visit a few hours later. 

“I’ve brought you some tea,” You say quietly as you slide open the door. Youngmin sits behind his desk, nose buried in a bound novel, and he greets you with a smile. “What are you reading?” 

“Oh, this is Jemangmaega,” he lowers the book, closing it but saving his place with a scrap piece of parchment. “A collection of poems but more critical than that if one reads further into the text. I practically know them by heart now, but with each time I reread them I find I learn something new.”

“When I was younger I wanted to be just like Kim Yushin– he fought for others, more so than just himself,” his grin lasts for a moment before fading, “But I suppose dreaming about being a great commander doesn’t just make you one… I wish I realized that a bit sooner.”

“What are you talking about?” You tilt your head, “You’ve only just begun.” 

“... How’s Jihoon?” He asks, not seeming to have heard your prior statement. 

“I think he’s in his room writing something.” You state, “Probably writing orders for Hansol, he’s off with Hao Chujun in Kyeju, you know.” 

“Ah…” Youngmin sighs, “I keep giving Jihoon so much to do.”

“I don’t think he’s pushing himself too hard,” you say quickly, “And nothing makes him happier than being able to help you. That’s just the kind of guy he is.” 

Youngmin chuckles at that, “You’ve turned out to be quite a page to him, haven’t you? I think you know him quite well by now.” 

“You think so?” You feel your cheeks warm at his certainty. “That’s right… I was supposed to be his page, wasn’t I?”

“To be truthful, I never thought that you’d be with us for this long…” Before you knew it, the two of you had begun to reminisce about your time in Seorabeol. Back then, you never could have guessed where fate would take you. There have been constant challenges, but you thought that’d you’d eventually return to your lives in the capital. 

“I know things will work out. The Commander will get us through this.” 

Youngmin responds with a melancholy laugh, “Don’t you think you’re asking quite a bit of him?”

“... What do you mean?”

Before Youngmin has any time to answer, the door opens with a snap, Wonwoo and Jihoon briskly walking inside, their faces tense and drawn. 

“We have to go. Now.” Jihoon says sharply, “The place’s surrounded.” 

“There’s two, maybe three hundred of them out there. We came in through the back so they wouldn’t see us,” Wonwoo says solemnly.

“If it were only twenty or thirty then we could take them… But we don’t have time to call Hansol and his men. Guess we’ll have to come up with something here. You two take Youngmin and go on ahead,” Jihoon says quickly. 

“What?!” You speak up, “Not even you can take on that many people. And it’s still daytime…” 

“A majority of the soldiers out there are archers,” Wonwoo says as both you and he move toward the door in an effort to block it should Jihoon try to get out. 

Youngmin, having been in quiet contemplation since their arrival, speaks out, “You needn't do that, Jihoon. I’ll go and have them take me to their headquarters.” 

“What the hell?!” Jihoon shouts out incredulously, “You might as well just paint a target on your chest!” 

“I won’t introduce myself as Kwak Youngmin of the Hwarang, of course,” Youngmin sighs as he rises to his feet, “I’ll tell them that we’re soldiers here to just secure the location. At any rate, it should buy you enough time to get away.” 

While you and Wonwoo lay shocked into silence, Jihoon doesn’t relent, “Listen to yourself! You really think they’ll let you waltz in and fuck with them like that?! You know how they work! There’s no way in hell that those bastards don’t hate our guts! They won’t believe that shit about us being soldiers for a second!”

“Well, even if I do get captured, I have the status of a Lord. They can’t just kill me.” 

“You have got to be kidding me.” Jihoon’s face is a near vibrant red at the moment, “You think they’ll give a shit about a title you have from the Kingdom they’re against?! You go out there, you’re signing your death warrant. You really think I’ll just let you do that?!” 

No matter what the Commander yells at him, Youngmin’s expression doesn’t change. 

“I’ve made my decision. Nothing you say can convince me otherwise.” 

Jihoons fists begin to shake by his sides. In all your time with the Hwarang, you’ve never seen either of them act like this before. 

“No! No! What the hell are the Hwarang going to do without their Chief?!” Jihoon shouts, “You’re coming with me even if I have to knock you out and drag you along! You have a responsibility to the Hwarang! You don’t get to die and run away from that!” He’s screaming at Youngmin, his white knuckled fists now gripping the front of the other man’s robes and his eyes red with held-back tears.

Yet his fury and pleas break across Youngmin’s impassable calm like wind against a mountain. 

“This is a direct order!” Youngmin says sternly as Jihoon’s hands drop from his robes, “You will go to Kyeju to meet with the rest of our men. The two of you will accompany him as well.” Jihoon stumbles back a step or two at the force of Youngmin’s voice. 

“You’re going to tell me what to do…? What the hell is this?!” Jihoon asks near incredulously. 

“Aren’t your Chief’s orders absolute?” Youngmin asks with a tilt of his head, “You’ve ordered men to kill themselves, or to become Furies from disobeying that rule. Are you somehow an exception? Is that the sort of warrior you want to be?” 

Jihoon says nothing. 

As long as he’d been commander, Jihoon strove to lead by example. He lived by the O Gye and demanded that others do likewise to groom the Hwarang into true warriors. There’s no doubt Youngmin had counted on that fact. He meant to do it to keep Jihoon alive.

Youngmin looks to you and Wonwoo, stepping a few paces in your direction, “I want you to leave with Jihoon. If you take too long, they’ll attack and my surrender will mean nothing.” He gives you two a small shove to get you moving, Wonwoo turns to look at Jihoon.

“Commander… Let’s go.” 

He only stands, chewing his lip, until Youngmin lays his hands on his friend’s shoulders, giving him a warm smile. 

“Hey, Jihoon… Let it go. Let me go.” Youngmin says softly, “You’ve run yourself ragged trying to earn me the status and fame that I wanted. You even turned yourself into a Fury… It kills me to see you do all of these things for me… I’m not worth it.”

Jihoon doesn’t meet his friend’s gaze, he instead blinks rapidly, trying to hold back tears, and stares desperately at the floor. Then he swallows the lump in his throat, his voice tight and strained when he speaks, “I– If I do this, then what have I been fighting for all these years? I became a warrior, served our Kingdom… I won numerous battles and killed men… All because I thought you’d be there at the end with all of us…” 

“I’m sorry,” Youngmin’s voice reflects the softness of the other’s, “I brought you here, I did this to you. Thinking back on it, it was all sort of a dream. We weren’t real warriors yet but we strapped on our swords and went to work.” His voice is warm, but that seems to make it even more difficult for Jihoon to let go.

The room is still before the commander speaks, “Jeon… Send a message to our remaining men. We need to secure an escape route.” His gaze then falls to you, “Stay here. Once we’re ready, I’ll come get you.” 

“Okay,” you nod quickly. And with that, Wonwoo and Jihoon leave, and Youngmin and you are alone once more. 

“Take this with you,” Youngmin says as he begins to reach for something in his robes. After a moment, he hands you a small cloth bag, it clinks as it rests in your palm. 

“What is it?”

“Money. To help you escape. I wasn’t able to do anything for you. This is a token of my appreciation, for all you’ve done for us. Please, take it.” His warmth still lingers on the fabric of the bag, you feel a lump rise in your throat. “You still have time. I’ll tell Jihoon. Once you get away, go somewhere safe and look for Doctor Namekawa… Just forget you had anything to do with us. Marry someone you love and live a peaceful life. Find happiness.” 

While you appreciate his kind gesture you cannot find it within yourself to follow his guidance, “No, I won’t run. I want to go with Jihoon. I’m… I’m his page…” Your teeth catch your lip, afraid that if you say any more you may cry. Instead, you look up to Youngmin and do your best to smile. 

His eyes are warm as he looks to you, “Our Commander’s been blessed with some great friends. I’ll be counting on you, then. Take care of him for me.” 

Eventually, Jihoon and Wonwoo return. They gather you and the rest of the men in an outer courtyard on the premises, including Junghwan and Dohoon. 

“What?!” Junghwan shouts, “We’re going to leave Chief behind? Is that true Commander?!” 

“Chief’s orders,” Jihoon says sternly, “You’re all going to escape this place and I’ll be right behind you.” 

“If he just surrenders, then his cover will be blown immediately!” Junghwan insists, “At least here, I could remain by his si–” 

“I said, ‘Chief’s orders’! Or do you have shit in your ears?!” Jihoon snaps, “Don’t you dare put Youngmin’s efforts in vain with your stupid suggestions!”

Junghwan looks as if he wants to respond, but instead he looks down as he tightens his fists and shakes. 

Just then, Dohoon says, “I’m going to stay. I understand they’re the Chief’s orders. However, as a warrior of the Hwarang, I cannot abandon the Chief.” 

“Kim Dohoon!” Wonwoo raises his voice, only to be interrupted. 

“Dohoon you bastard…” Jihoon frowns, angrily tapping the hilt of his sword, “You really want this steel in your gut right now?”

“No! It’s not like that,” Dohoon’s eyes burn with intense vigor as he glares back at Jihoon. “I understand you, more than anyone else, want to remain here. But the Chief entrusted the Hwarang to you, which is why you can’t… So that’s why I want to protect him in your stead, Commander!” 

Jihoon curls his lip, staring at him for a long moment before unsheathing his blade at his hip. 

“Commander!” As the exclamation leaves Wonwoo’s mouth, Jihoon points the tip of the sword toward Dohoon’s throat.

“You said you’ll protect the Chief, right?”

Sweat trickles down Dohoon’s reddened cheeks, “...Yes, I will.” 

“Then you’d better keep your goddamn word. No matter what, your eyes don’t leave Kwak, got it?” 

Dohoon’s eyes grow wide, trembling for a moment but soon after brim with a fiery determination, “Yes, sir! I, Kim Dohoon, promise to protect the Chief's life, no matter the cost!” 

It seems as if he’s convinced Jihoon, as the latter returns his blade to its sheath. “Let’s go.” His words are curt as he nods quickly before leaving the residence behind. 

In a short while, Youngmin and Dohoon will hand their terms of surrender to the Goguryeo army. You find yourself looking back over your shoulder many times as you run. Soon, Youngmin will give himself to his enemies. Perhaps, you think time and time again, if you turn around now, you can rescue him, 

Wonwoo seems to feel the same way, but Jihoon never once turns back. 

You run and run through the forest to Kyeju. It doesn’t matter how quickly you get there– it’s not soon enough to bring back an army to save Youngmin. 

“Are you alright?” Wonwoo asks as he falls in step by your side, “We can rest if you’re tired.” 

“I’m alright,” you shake your head, “I can keep going.” 

Jihoon, with his back to you, says nothing, but you can feel each pained step he takes away from his friend. 

The sun begins to dip towards the western horizon and night starts to fall when your party is stopped by a group of Goguryeo soldiers. 

“You there! Stop!” One of them commands, his hand already hovering over the hilt of his sword, “Where are you headed?” 

Jihoon only frowns and makes his way to walk past the soldier. 

“He said to stop!” Another soldier yells out, “Goddamn it, are you more of those Silla guys?”

“Hold,” the first man pauses, “I’ve seen him before. You’re that bastard from the Hwarang, aren’t you?”

“You mean those guys that offed Yoon?” The soldiers around them begin to scramble for their weapons.

Unfortunately, they aren’t fast enough for Jihoon. His hair snaps white and he shoots forward, toward the soldiers, sword in hand. His strikes are so fast and elegant that the eye barely even has time to perceive what happened before the two men fall dead. 

“Wrong day to fuck with me, boys.” 

A volley of soldiers rush forward, as well as a few arrows loosened in his direction. One of the arrows pierces his shoulder and Jihoon cries out, swiftly pulling it from the wound. It immediately begins to close as he smirks at them, “That’s how it feels getting shot, huh? Not as bad as I thought.” His gaze sharpens on those left before him, “This is nothing! This doesn’t even come close to what Youngmin’s going through!” 

Jihoon launches himself at the nearest of the soldiers, his sword already in motion and his face twisted by grief and anger. Even without Fury powers, Jihoon and Wonwoo could have made easy work of this small troop of men… But rage and frustration boiling over since you’d left Youngmin had erupted in a torrent of violence. 

“You can’t use your powers–!” You call out to Jihoon, trying to stop his relentless assault. 

“Shut up!” He snarls at you, “Stay out of this!” 

He knows what he’s doing, but he’s far past caring. Jihoon leaps from tree to tree, his sword flashing like lightning. Every time it moves, a life ends. Rage, anguish and an unrestrained thirst for blood radiates from him like heat from a blaze from a fire. Blood soaks his face and hands. Still, he cuts and cuts, never satisfied. 

You see Wonwoo and Junghwan sweating as they stand silently, watching Jihoon fight as a Fury. They’re mesmerized and you can hardly blame them. Every swing of his sword spills a man to the dirt. He looks like a monster. At last, the only man left alive is Jihoon himself. 

Silence falls over the forest once more, save for the birds that have restarted their chatter, 

“Wonwoo… Junghwan… Go see if there’s any more of them.” Desperate to distance themselves from the bloodshed, the two depart quickly after Jihoon’s orders. “You. Go with them.” 

Normally you would do as he’d asked and followed after them but now… 

“What?” Jihoon turns to you, noticing your hesitation, “I gave you an order.” His words cut like a knife but you don’t move. 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t do that.”

“I am your commanding officer. I am giving you an order.” He sounds angry, as he oft does, but just behind that there's a deep, miserable sadness. If he doesn’t stay angry, you feel, he’d probably be crying.

“I promise I won’t get in your way, but please, just let me stay here with you.” There’s nothing you can do for him, but you cannot bear to leave him alone. 

He turns his back to you– to everything, his face hidden. You have no idea what expression he’s wearing.

You search yourself for something to say, something to ease him, but you find nothing within yourself to better him. And, after a few moments, he speaks.

“What the hell did I do… all of this for?” 

How can this be the fate dealt by the gods for two men so honest and determined? It just doesn’t seem fair…

“Was it just so I could give Youngmin to those bastards? I busted my ass to give my friend to the enemy?” His voice trembles with every word, the weight of it all still resting heavily on him, “I was going to make him important. Help him carry himself to his family’s standards. I wanted to see him fight in the kind of battles they wrote about. Like a true warrior… I wanted to see just how far the owner of a school in the sticks could go.” 

You’re not even sure if he knows that you’re still here. If he does, it seems as if he no longer cares.  

“I thought we were shooting for the same dream. Long as it was for him, I felt like I could do anything. So what the hell am I doing here, alive, while he’s… he’s god knows where?! After all that self-righteous preaching, what did I do?! I turned around and left him to the wolves! He… I’m just like the king. Soon as things get dangerous, I turn tail and leave better men to deal with the mess! God damn it! Why am I alive?!”

It tears you apart to hear him lament his inner machinations aloud. You find yourself stepping forward, wrapping your arms around his back, pressing your face against his uniform. 

“Youngmin said… I mean, after you’d left, I told him that you’d figure it out,” you say softly,  “and he said that I was asking too much of you.” Tears run hot down your cheeks, “It’s not your fault, you can’t blame yourself… He didn’t want you to die. That’s why you’re still alive. Just… Please don’t blame yourself.”

 Jihoon listens, saying nothing. Or perhaps he didn’t even hear you. Why do words feel so powerless when you need them the most? What good are they if you cannot comfort someone at their lowest? 

“He did this to save me… but what the hell am I supposed to do without Kwak Youngmin of the Hwarang? The dream of helping him is what brought me here in the first place.” Jihoon’s shoulders shake, “Now that dream has left me… I don’t have anything left. I’m nothing.” He gives a short bark of humorless laughter, “Seriously Kwak… Stop giving me all the shitty jobs.”  His voice chokes on a sob and falls silent. 

𝔄𝔭𝔯𝔦𝔩 10𝔱𝔥, 666 - ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The days that followed were somber, and eventually your group returned to Ungjin before regrouping with Hansol in Kyeju. When you arrived in the city, Junghwan mentioned he was going to visit a friend of his, and left. However, you think Junghwan’s just trying to be considerate and give Jihoon some space.

Arriving back at the compound, you’re shocked to see none other than Boo Seungkwan waiting for you.

“Evening,” he says as you walk inside, “Who would’ve thought you guys would ever come to visit me?”

“Nevermind that you should be in Sabi– why are you up this late? Just look at you,” Jihoon frowns, crossing his arms.

“I’m a bit tired of sleeping alone, you know?” Seungkwan muses, “At this rate, I’ll never get a chance to shine again… Seems to me it’s time to join you guys.” 

“The hell you won’t! What makes you think you can hold a sword with that body?” Jihoons words cut through the air.

“Come on, cut me some slack.” Seungkwan snorts, “I’ve been feeling great lately. So…” As he begins his next statement, he turns to cough into his fist. The fit doesn’t relent until he crouches on the floor, coughing painfully with strained breaths. 

“Are you alright, Seungkwan?” You ask, rubbing his back as he tries to catch his breath. Under your palm, you can feel the bones of his back. At first glance, he may look to be improving but he’s lost a lot of weight and it’s almost painful to look at. 

“See?” Jihoon turns to look down at him, “What’d I tell you? Why don’t you admit you’re sick for once, and take it easy?”

Seungkwan bites his lips out of frustration, grimacing at the thought of admitting his weakness, he sighs deeply and rises to his feet, “So, how’s Kwak doing? Too busy to visit me again?” 

You flinch at the mention of Youngmin, which causes your body to jolt unexpectedly. Jihoon, however, is unfazed by the question. 

“He’s a little preoccupied at the moment.” 

“How’s his shoulder doing? Isn’t it tough for him to be up and about?”

“That was a while ago. He’s fine.” Jihoon says, “He may not be able to wield his sword but, well, with his promotion, it’s not like he’s charging from the front lines anyway.” 

“Spare me,” Seungkwan waves his hand, “You’re bragging about his promotion like it’s you out there and not him. But… that’s good to hear. Youngmin’s okay then.” The Hwarang seems to have eased down. It looks as if Youngmin’s well-being is the only thing keeping Seungkwan invested in his own health. 

“Look,” Jihoon states, “I promise I’ll bring him next time. Just sit tight, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll wait. But I’m not holding my breath. You’ve always been a bad liar, Jihoon.”

“Who the hell are you calling a liar? I’ve never lied to you about Youngmin.” The tone of their conversation sounds like their usual banter, but you can understand why Junghwan may have been inclined to step out. You begin to gather that there’s much for them to reminisce on, so you take the chance to sneak outside. 

Cool nighttime air whispers against your cheeks as you gaze to the stars hanging above. It seems like tonight would be the final farewell between Jihoon and Seungkwan, you need to let them have this moment to themselves. Being an outside observer to the intimacy of their conversation tells you this, at least. 

In the midst of your contemplation, you think you see Junghwan speaking to someone in the distance. You know he said he’d been planning to meet a friend in Ungjin but you don’t recognize the figure. 

“Are you sure about that? You’re the Commander’s acquaintance, aren’t you?” You hear Junghwan speak to him as you slowly approach. “You’re already here so why don’t you stop by?” 

“I think I’ll pass on that.” The person says coolly.

“Why?” Junghwan questions further, “This may be the last time we step foot in Ungjin.”

“Wasn’t Youngmin just arrested by Goguryeo soldiers in Hanseong?” The person murmurs, “I don’t know what I’d say to Jihoon in a time like this, knowing what everyone’s been through and all.”

Junghwan’s head suddenly hangs, as the words from the conversation penetrate and resound around his head, “You don’t need to mince words. Just, you know, tell them how you feel… talk about what you’ve been up to, or what you’ve seen. Isn’t that good enough?” 

“Junghwan…”  For a brief moment, the stranger looks unsettled by the suggestion. However, he takes a deep breath and continues, “But I was never one of the Hwarang. I just happened to be around when the newer group was established.”

“Then why did you paint them as Furies?” Junghwan frowns, “If they didn’t matter to you anymore, then you wouldn’t go through the trouble of drawing that? It’s not like it’d make you any money.”

“Well…” The other stops.

“So, are you absolutely sure there’s nothing you’d want to say to the Commander, Colonel or Soonyoung? You’re positive?” Junghwan lists off the names of the Hwarang, only making you question the stranger yourself. Is he a friend of theirs? Perhaps Junghwan had met with him to bring him to your side?

Whatever the case, the stranger’s countenance gives the impression that he’s reluctant to be involved at all. 

As you’re thinking of this person, a voice speaks up behind you, “You should go and talk to Seungkwan while you can.” 

Jihoon. You hadn’t heard the door open, much less his footsteps approach.

“S- Sure,” you say quickly, spinning on your heels and walking into the house from the darkness. 

After making smalltalk for a while, Jihoon rejoins you and begins to say his farewell to him, “We’ll see you later, Boo. Don’t trouble Namekawa too much.”

“I never do,” Seungkwan shakes his head, “The man just worries too much.”

“Forever the smartass,” Jihoon rolls his eyes jokingly, “Whatever the case, we’ll be on our way soon.”

“Leaving already?” Seungkwan asks, eyebrows raised. 

“Goodnight, Seungkwan. Please take care of yourself.” You say with a small smile and begin to turn to leave.

“Hey,” Seungkwan calls out to you, “Can I have a word?” He beckons you over with a gentle gesture so you walk to him. 

“Is something the matter?” 

“I know he won’t admit it, but Jihoon looks like shit. Are things at the front going bad?” 

If you speak too carelessly you can give away information– information that can easily hurt Seungkwan, so you fall silent. 

“Here’s the thing: I don’t like that man at all, and quite frankly, I can’t give a rat’s ass what happens to him. But… I want you to be by his side. If he goes down, then the Hwarang go down with him.”

“I understand…” you murmur out before Jihoon butts in.

“Are we done here? Time to get going.” 

He doesn’t ask a thing about your conversation as he begins walking briskly ahead of you on the darkened streets. Watching him make that promise of bringing Youngmin the next time he’d see Seungkwan… it seems as though that burden of promise, and the potential of it being left unfulfilled, weighs heavily on him.

Suddenly, he stops in his tracks.

“You should go on ahead and go home.”

“Huh?” You pause yourself, “What do you mean? What do you plan on doing?”

“I’m going to speak to the Goguryeo forces in Hanseong,” he turns to face you, “And I’m going to personally ask them to release Youngmin.”

“You’re going now?!” You sputter, “I thought you said they can’t be reasoned with?”

“If we can’t get results, then I can’t say we’ve done everything we could.”

“It’s not safe for you to go there! They could capture you at any moment!” Frantic energy runs in your voice, “If they take you like they did Youngmin…” 

Yesterday this idea would have been preposterous to Jihoon, what happened to make him change his mind?

“So you’re telling me to my face that this decision is a mistake?” 

“No… No I’m not saying that.”

“Then what is it?” He snaps, “If you have something to say, just say it.” 

“Stay strong.” You raise your voice, nearly shocking yourself,  “You of all people know what needs to be done.”

“I decide on what I do. It’s not your place to say.” 

“I understand, but what will you do if you’re arrested by the Goguryeo army?”

“So what if I am?” He frowns, crossing his arms, “Sitting here and talking about ‘what-ifs’ isn’t any better than taking action.  

“So you’re going to let Chan and Eunseok’s sacrifices go in vain?!”

“What do you know?!” He explodes, and you have to stop yourself from taking a step back.

“E- Even I can understand a little!” You refuse to let your convictions amount to nothing. With a heavy heart you continue, “I was there when they gave their lives for… I saw it with my own eyes. Both of them loved the Hwarang. And they trusted their commander! If either of them saw what I am now, it would crush them.” 

“Crush them, huh?” At last, he seems to let go of a bit of the tension in his shoulders. They relax slightly as he looks off into the distance. “Do you believe it to be the survivor’s duty to carry on the will of the deceased?”

“I think so.”At least that’s what it feels as if you’re doing now. The reason you can’t back down, even if Jihoon feels compelled to yell at you, is because you know Eunseok and Chan would have done the same. 

“Damn, guess this means all I have to look forward to in life is shouldering more burdens until I die.”

“Jihoon…”

He shakes his head and gives you a short, melancholic smile, “Sorry for yelling at you. You were right. You did know. There’s no point in me being irrational when our situation is already grim, huh? It wouldn;t look too great if there’s nowhere for the Chief to go when he gets out eventually.”

With that last statement, you see that he’s finally regained his composure, and you respond in kind by calming down, “I know I told you to stay strong, but please, don’t push yourself too hard. I noticed you’ve been running around during both day and night time.”

“Where do you have all this time to show concern for every person you meet?” Jihoon sighs out, “Once we leave here, if you so much as collapse on the way out, I’m leaving your ass behind. Brace yourself.” 

“Okay!”

You’re happy to have gotten through to him, even if it was just a courteous gesture. He begins walking again and you run right behind him, doing your best to keep up with the swiftness of his pace.  

At the entrance of the city, you regroup with Junghwan and Wonwoo, the two greeting you quickly. 

“Commander, I need to speak with you urgently,” Junghwan says, looking frigid as he approaches Jihoon. “Please let me petition for the clemency of both the Chief and Dohoon! Surely the Goguryeo forces understand what killing Kwak would detail. If we work hard, I’m sure we can find people to cooperate with us. So please–”

 Jihoon stares at Junghwan, who’s bowed over in a sign of respect, and seems to take his suggestion into consideration. 

“...You beat me to it. I was going to say the same thing.”

“Commander! Then–”

“Jeon, I have a favor to ask you. Take her and head to Kyeju first.”

“What?!” You gasp out.

“We’re going to continue our fight for Youngmin’s freedom. Your presence here is only a burden for us right now.” Earlier he’d given you the same instruction, albeit with a far more aggressive tone. But this time you can tell thoughtful consideration went into it. 

You’re worried, of course. But there isn’t anything more you can argue. 

“This is an order from your commander. We’ll meet up again soon so get out of here and stay sharp.” 

It felt strange to part from them, as if some piece of yourself is now missing– but you don’t have much time to harp on it as you meet up with other troops in Kyeju. 

You’re worried about what’s to become of Youngmin, but perhaps because the situation seems grim, no one has brought it up.

𝔐𝔞𝔶 1𝔰𝔱, 666 – 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔎𝔶𝔢𝔧𝔲, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Jihoon soon rejoined Wonwoo and you as you resided in Kyeju, only after he’d settled his affairs for Youngmin’s freedom in Ungjin first. Hansol had taken the main body of Hwarang soldiers to Koksan and then onto Bakjak to keep an eye on the Fury Corps. You have just left the small town with Wong Kunhang’s men to hop onto the route to follow after him. 

After a while, you manage to meet up with some allied soldiers, but many of them look at you with a strange mixture of curiosity and fear. It’s unpleasant, to say the least.

“Those are the Hwarang, right? The murderers?”

“Yeah, noble dogs that  kill men for no reason– even their comrades! Best not to look at them for too long. You never know what might set them off.”

It isn’t difficult to hear the gossip that floats through the ranks. 

“They sound like a bunch of old wives spinning those stories!” Wonwoo scoffs, turning to look at Jihoon, “Want me to keep them quiet for you?”

“No.” Jihoon shakes his head, sounding more irritated than usual, “They want to talk, let them talk.” 

“Are you alright?” You ask as you walk along, “You don’t look too well.”

“I’m fine.” He says but he clearly seems otherwise. His skin is a pale color, almost blue, and he looks exhausted. Marching during the day is hardly a pleasant walk for a Fury. 

Youngmin is clearly at the forefront of his mind. And although you hate to admit it, he has a good reason to be on edge. 

“Excuse me, could you let me pass? Ah– apologies, oops…” Someone moves towards you from the back of the column of men, pushing his way through the rest of the marching soldiers. 

“Hello,” a man, no older than Jihoon, steps forward and offers a bow, “Are you Lee Jihoon? I’ve heard a great deal about you and the Hwarang.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Jihoon asks, puzzled.

“Pardon my rudeness, I’m still not fully functional with the language– my name is Wong Kunhang, one of the commanders of the Tang forces. I’m sure I’ll be talking with the Hwarang a great deal in the future. It’s nice to meet you.” 

It’s strange, for the man who claimed to command the infantry of men, he looks more like the son of a wealthy merchant than a soldier. 

Jihoon snorts under his breath and turns away, leaving Kunhang to look on for a moment longer. 

“Do you have business with Jihoon?” Wonwoo asks.

“Ah, yes. I was hoping to hear stories about the Seorabeol attacks from the Commander of the Hwarang himself.”

“Sure you wouldn’t rather hear some ridiculous rumor from a drunk soldier?” Jihoon bites, “Seems like everybody here loves to gossip.”

“I apologize for them. We’ve been far from home for a while and they’ve only grown more undisciplined as time progressed.” Kunhang shakes his head to continue his original plan, “At any rate, I came here to give you an overview of how our forces are being deployed. We have five thousand soldiers in the advance guard, main body and rear guard. As the highest ranking officer–” 

“Wong Kunhang… The Wong Kunhang who took back Hanseong a few months back?”

“That’s me,” he smiles.

“And you lost it.” 

“Yes, well… I suppose I did. It was a misstep of my forces and I take full responsibility for it. But I assure you that we will be taking it back, and keeping it this time.”

Jihoon looks as if he’s just swallowed something rotten. He’d only just lost his Chief and it seems as if this newcomer’s trying to force himself into Youngmin’s place. No one, no matter the skill, can replace his friend. Still, Kunhang seems to have been expecting to be rebuffed, and continues, showing no sign of being put off by Jihoon's behavior. 

“The advance guard is made up mostly of men from the Silla army. The rear guard, however, is composed of men from Tang. I’m thinking of promoting you to Deputy Commander in order to lead the advance guard. What do you say?” 

“Why?”

“I have experience leading my men. And am I wrong to think that the advance guard would take more kindly to a fellow countryman than an outsider?” Kunhang speaks plainly, “Besides, there isn’t anyone on our side or theirs who hasn’t heard the name Lee Jihoon. I can’t think of anyone better suited.” His copious praise does nothing to thaw Jihoon, they just stare at each other for a few awkward moments. 

It’s painfully clear that the two of them don’t see eye to eye, and it cannot be a worse first impression. 

“Well,” Kunhang claps his hands together, “I suppose I better be on my way. We’ll talk later, and go over some more in-depth plans.” Their conversation ends as one-sided as it had begun, and the Tang general disappears into the swarm of marching soldiers. 

Later that night, your group camps a short distance away from the rest of the force. Jihoon, sitting by the fire’s edge, beckons you and Wonwoo over, “We need to talk.” The main bulk of the Hwarang forces are with Hansol heading even more northward, meaning that the only people in the camp were you, Wonwoo, Jihoon and three dozen more Hwarang. “Remember what Kunhang told us earlier?”

“About taking command of the advance guard?” Wonwoo inquires, “What of it?”

“I’ve been thinking about what I want you guys to do. You can’t be in the advance guard, so I’ll have to send you off to fight with the main body or the rear guard.”

“So this means you’re going to take his offer?” Wonwoo shifts as he speaks.

“Yes. You were in Seorabeol. You’d be a good commander for men who’ve never seen a real battle.”

“But…” A frown carves itself on his lips. Jihoon’s reasoning makes sense, but it doesn’t mean he has to like it.  It feels as if Wonwoo had grown attached to the idea of fighting in the same unit as Jihoon. Perhaps the commander is insensitive for either ignoring this sentiment, or not acknowledging it at all. 

Wonwoo sighs, resigning himself into a period of deep thought, looking up to Jihoon’s gaze, “Understood. Whatever you order me to do, I’ll do it. But first, I want you to tell me something. This doesn’t mean you’re planning to disband the Hwarang, does it? If I fight in this, it’ll be as a member of the Hwarang.”

It seems the two of you feel the same way. Jihoon’s hope may be flickering but yours isn’t.

“Fine. Whatever.” Jihoon seems disengaged.

“I should also point out that I think commanding soldiers is a little more than she can handle.” Wonwoo adds, glancing over to you, “She doesn’t belong on the front line. She’s a page, not a soldier.” He rises to his feet, dusting the dirt from his knees, “Anyways, I’ll go and tell the others what you’ve decided.”

Jihoon and you are left alone with the crackling fire as Wonwoo jogs back to the main encampment. He sighs and his shoulders drop. Suddenly he looks very, very tired.

“Why did you try to order us away?” The question leaves you before you can think it through.

He doesn’t answer, only tilts his head to look at the flecks of starlight dappling through the trees above. As the melancholy silence speaks, you nearly regret asking the question before he laments, “If I knew Youngmin was coming back, then I could go out there ready to give my life to win. Just like Chan said– Youngmin and I were the Hwarang. With him gone, there’s no way in hell I can carry all this on my own.”   

When he normally speaks to you, he is oft cruel and rude, you’ve never heard him sound so defeated before. 

“Junhui was right, wasn’t he? Remember what he said when we decided to attack Hanseong? He said there was no way in hell Kim Yong would fund us without some sort of hidden agenda.” Jihoon huffs, “He was right. So was Mingyu… You know who was the first to petition for a settlement between Goguryeo and our forces? Kim Yong.”

“...What?”

“He wanted to showcase our defeat as costly and an expenditure of life and resources. Make it abysmally clear that the war is funded on blood, and to keep his own money in his coiffers.” He laughs despondently and kicks at a rock by his foot, “Damn it, how couldn’t I see that coming? If I thought about it, that would’ve never slipped past me. I was desperate for Youngmin to be off fighting big important battles, winning all sorts of glory…  But I let it all blind me, we were played and Youngmin lost his spirit…” 

The Hwarang had put their lives on the line for the Kingdom. How could the King just let them be pawned around? 

“Noble or commoner– we all busted our asses to get where we are. Aren’t warriors meant to be the masters of the battlefield? What the hell have we been fighting for this entire time? Is anything I believed in still true? We believed that we were fighting for something, so no matter the shit we had to crawl through, we did it.  Turns out it was just a trench that just circles itself. What are we supposed to do now? What the hell am I supposed to believe in?”

Every word of his punctures you with pain. But the kingdom had betrayed them, their trust. The war had changed and it feels as if the Hwarang had been tossed aside. All that the Hwarang had done is fade away, what could Jihoon do to fix it? 

“You lost what you believed in,” you say quietly, “They think as long as you’re there to lead, they’ll be fine and refuse to show fear in front of you. They want you to see the kind of men they are, which means they’ll fight to the death if you tell them to.” If anything, you want to soothe his wounded soul a bit. “But if someone were to ask why I’m here… I’d say it’s because I believe in you.”

Perhaps that’s the wrong thing to say, all you’ve done is give him something more to worry about. 

Jihoon looks at you, but for once the light in his eyes is soft, “You’re right. If you lose sight of something the only person who can find it again is you. Besides, we’ve got a big fight coming up. Guess I should be thinking about how we’re going to win that, not whining about my problems.” With a small smile, he turns back to the stars.

You fall silent again, cicadas fluttering and chirping through the night being the only cacophony of sounds around you.  

“Are you really going to stick around?” He asks. You know he wants to go alone, but you can’t go with Wonwoo, you both know that.

“Yes, I am.” Perhaps you don’t know how you can help him just yet, but you can hardly leave him alone. 

“Fine. Just stay out of my way.” 

“I know.” You sit there in the silence of night, you’re just about to return to your tent when he groans out in pain. Almost immediately you know what’s happening, your fears confirmed when his hair begins to turn white at the roots. Quickly you scramble to your feet, urging him to his and leading him to the shadow of a large tree where the nearby soldiers won’t be able to see him.  

“Damn it,” he curses through clenched teeth, “Why now?!”

With shaking hands you reach for your collar, and as he grasps your intent he grimaces. Jihoon takes a hold of your shoulders and roughly pulls you toward him, seconds later you feel a dull sting on the back of your neck and then the hot trickle of blood. 

His warm breath comes in pants across your bare skin, but after a time his ragged gasps for deliverance begin to steady. And slowly, his grip loosens. Then, without a word, he pulls away from you. 

“How long do you plan to keep letting me do this?” He mutters, as you turn to him, worry in his eyes.

“Forever,” you say simply, “As long as you need me, I’ll be here.” 

“You’re a stupid woman,” he sighs, “And I’m a man who’s lost sight of what makes him human. How can you just let me cut you open like that and drink your blood? What the hell are you thinking?”

“It’s alright, Jihoon. I really don’t mind.”

There’s nothing for him to say to that.

The next day, along the route to Hanseong, the news breaks.

“So, Goguryeo forces are pulling out of Hanseong?” Wong Kunhang frowns, “That’s… unexpected.” He and Jihoon stop to talk over the news and their next move. 

“Unexpected? They’re cocky bastards that think we won’t try to retake the city.” Jihoon scoffs, “It’s the most opportune moment to take it back.” 

“I’m not against going into battle,” Kunhang states, “We are leading an army, after all. But the main body and the rear guard are still on their way. All I’m asking is that you wait until they catch up with us. Attempting to lay siege to the city with the men we have is folly beyond folly. We should–”

Jihoon sighs, “This isn’t a theoretical scenario from one of your war manuals.”

“Sun Tzu isn’t just a war manual. The highest form of generalship is balking enemy plans; the next best in preventing enemy junctions,” Kunhang argues, standing his ground, “After that, it’s attacking armies in the field, and the worst of all is besieging walled cities. Therefore, we should only lay siege as a last resort. Attacking head-on is foolish. If you’re determined to be foolish, the best you can do is make sure your army is in the best condition possible and–”

“Though we have heard of stupid haste in war, cleverness has never been seen associated with long delays! No kingdom benefits from prolonged warfare!” Jihoon offers his rebuttal, “Remember that one? He’s saying that it might get messy, but it’s better to end your battles quickly. Taking your sweet time just comes back to bite you in the ass.”

“Lee… Don’t do that.” Wong Kunhang’s brow furrows, “I’m not asking you to wait long. They should be here in just a few days.”

“And we’re just meant to sit here twiddling our thumbs until the Goguryeo army shows up?” Jihoon frowns, “If they catch us unaware then we’re screwed, no two ways about it.” He must sense that he caught a nerve in the other as he pushes ahead, “You want to miss this opportunity, fine. I’ll just take the advance guard and capture Hanseong myself.”

“That’s suicide!” Kunhang shouts as Jihoon snorts derisively. He clearly has no intention of taking his opinion. 

“I guess we’ll see. I’ll take Hanseong by tomorrow.” His lips pull back from his teeth in a feral grin, and he looks off in the distance toward Hanseong.

He isn’t being belligerent. He’s being reckless. With Jihoon like this, can you really win?

𝔐𝔞𝔶 13𝔱𝔥 666 - ℌ𝔞𝔫𝔰𝔢𝔬𝔫𝔤, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔊𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔬 Hanseong is in turmoil. Your forces neared three thousand, while Hanseong’s barely had a thousand. And although the Silla forces easily outnumber your opponents, the guards are able to use their fortifications to great effect, fighting you to a standstill. Arrows fly, swords clash, and men scream in pain.

“We can’t keep this up,” Jihoon sighs out with crossed arms, “This is as good a time as any to attack the enemy lines.”   

“Attack?” You look toward him in disbelief, as a nearby soldier cries out, “Their fortifications–” 

“Can fall.” Jihoon says flatly, “An arrow or two won’t kill you.” The men around him are stunned into silence, never having imagined they would receive orders like this. Their commander, however, just stares back coldly. “What the hell did you come here to do? You’re here to fight a war. If you’re prepared to fight, you should be prepared to die. Am I wrong? So, when I give the word, you’re going to charge that line!”

The men before him pale, and many tremble. Eventually, one of them snaps, “I can’t do it! I don’t want to die here.”

No sooner had he turned to run, does Jihoon’s sword flash in the daylight, striking the soldier dead. The men watching swallow thickly. For a few moments they stay utterly silent. Commotion breaks out shortly afterward. 

“What is this?!”

“Is he crazy?!”

Jihoon lets his cold eyes slide slowly across their ranks, and slowly the mumbling ceases, “Anyone else want to run? If you’re too scared to fight, go ahead. Be my guest. But anyone who runs will die by my hand. So either I kill you… Or you take your chance out there. Up to you.” With one final scowl, he turns back to the battlefield, taking off across it.

He runs through the throng of bodies and hail of arrows, falling upon the men defending the main gate like a vengeful god. His sword drips with fresh blood, you stay in the shadows of the treeline waiting for him to return.  

Wonwoo runs to the commander, grime and blood smeared across his face, “With another push we should be able to take the gate!”

“Great!” Jihoon shouts, “I believe in you Jeon!” 

As Jihoon effortlessly slices through the enemy, the mood among his men begins to change. A ripple goes through them, a surge of newfound energy to fight. You can’t hear him from the distance, but he shouts something over his shoulder and his soldiers fight with intense vigor. 

And soon after the sun passes its zenith, the city gates open, the news of it spreading like wildfire. 

The Silla forces sweep into the city soon after, finding relative ease when liberating the streets. Jihoon glances at you with a grin as Wonwoo runs up to him.

“Commander! The men we sent to the town head’s home ran into trouble!”

“What?” Jihoon almost sounds confused, “We haven’t seen any real resistance so far.”

Wonwoo shakes his head, “I’m unaware of the details. Should I go see…?”

“No. I’ll go.” Jihoon stops him, “I’m leaving you in charge here.”

“What would you like me to do?” You ask.

“Come with me,” he says simply, “Don’t want you wandering around. Might get hit by a stray arrow or something.  

And thus it was decided. You quickly follow after Jihoon, and even upon approaching the building, you can tell something is wrong. Inside, your men are dead on the floor, their bodies laid out like the spokes of a wheel, and at its hub… Hong Jisoo.

“What are you doing here?” Jihoon asks, more nonchalant than you’d have thought. “Decided you’d take a vacation? You do know there’s a war out there, right? Or maybe you’re just hiding out here, hoping you won’t get hurt.”

“We were acting under orders from the King.” Hwan Minhyun, whom you hadn’t seen upon your arrival, speaks out, “We are here to deliver a secret message. We did not expect to be drawn into battle and we certainly did not expect to encounter you here.”

“Huh,” Jihoon scoffs, “Gaesomun yells jamp and you leap. You sure are dedicated.” 

“Well, I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, Lee…” Jisoo leers with a snide grin.

“And I didn’t think you were so anxious to get your ass beat again. Don’t worry though, I’m happy to oblige.”

Jisoo grinds his teeth and draws his sword at his hip, “Killing you will erase the humiliation I suffered at your hands. You and your dogs have been a thorn in my side since Wonweol. Today, I will have my revenge.”

“... Sounds as if you’ve got this covered,” Minhyun sighs, stepping back once more, “He’s all yours.” 

Jihoon just as easily draws his sword, “Guess the face wasn’t enough, maybe if I take an arm you’ll get the message.” He soars across the room at Jisoo, their blades rattling against one another as Jisoo block’s the commander’s strike. Then, the demon pushes back and Jihoon is thrown across the hall. 

“You’re not getting away,” Jisoo says coolly, his hair turning stark white, just as Jihoon’s had done at the beginning of the battle. In the blink of an eye, he leaps after his opponent, whipping his sword in a quick slash. Jihoon brings up his blade at the last second before the strike could wound him. 

“You’re slow,” Jisoo taunts, “Your movements lack finesse. Don’t tell me that killing humans has tired you out? Last time you said you were a Demon…” Their blades locked together, Jihoon’s begins to shake under the pressure of the other’s force. 

Jisoo’s right, though, Even with his Fury abilities, Jihoon is slower than before, too unfocused. 

“Ah, I see,” the Demon’s eyes flicker to the open door for a moment, “The sun’s still out. You don’t like it much, do you?” He chuckles, “Don’t worry, I won’t go easy on you just because you’re weak. After all, a warrior always gives all he can, no matter the situation. That is your code, isn’t it?” 

“Damn you!” Jihoon jumps backwards, but not fast enough to escape Jisoo’s blade. It arcs down across the Hwarang’s chest, blood erupting from the gash and splattering to the floor. Jihoon drops to his knees, skidding across the hard wooden panels panting heavily as blood blooms across his robes and pools on the floor below him. 

Agonizing seconds pass as both you and he wait for the blood to stop, yet it continues to fall through his fingers clenched to the robes hanging from the wound. “What the hell is this?!” Jihoon asks through clenched teeth as he stares daggers at Jisoo standing before him. 

Jisoo laughs, almost as if Jihoon had told him a joke, “What’s the matter? Not healing like you should? This,” his wrist flicks upward to show off his blade, which almost looks to be faintly glowing, “is Hwangun’s Blade. It’s been passed down through my family for generations, but… no one had ever thought to test it on a Demon. This is an excellent chance to see what it can do. And you know what? I can use it to put down a fake Demon.”

He smirks, giving the impression that he’s figured this victory is a foregone conclusion. 

“You must be pretty desperate if you’re willing to grab your family’s magic sword. Really need something like that to take on a fake Demon?” Jihoon gives his own taunting laugh, but Jisoo’s grin doesn’t falter. 

“You humiliated me for the first time in my life. Nothing is too much if it will send you to hell.” With another flick of his wrist, Jisoo sends droplets of gore spraying down onto the floor, “Your abilities can’t heal any wounds from this blade. You became a Fury to defeat me, but now that sacrifice means nothing.” 

“So, tell me if I’ve got this right. All I have to do is avoid getting cut by that thing? Hell, before I became a Fury, all I did was dodge swords. This’ll be easy.”

“Does your impudence know no bounds?” The Demon scoffs, “Fine. I’ll put your short lived defiance to the test.” His blade shimmers a blue-white and seems to shiver with his murderous intent. The air is thick, feeling like a struggle to just breathe. 

Jisoo slashes downwards toward Jihoon, who’s able to dodge out of the way in time, bringing up his own sword to strike back. But when it arcs upward, instead of hitting flesh, Jihoon’s sword cuts through air. In tandem with the strikes, Jisoo moves too fast for the bare eye to see, Jihoon’s margin for error becoming slimmer and slimmer. With another dodge, the Demon slams his riposte into the Hwarang’s shoulder. Jihoon’s robe is torn away, displaying a fresh wound. 

“Good… You’re overthinking on how you might kill me,” Jisoo smirks, “But I want to see more. I want to see your face when you realize that you can’t kill me and that I will win!”

Blood pours from him, but Jihoon brings up his sword to catch Hwangun. Teeth clenched, you know that he’s lost far too much blood to carry on for much longer. Jisoo kicks Jihoon back and as he does, the commander’s hair returns to its natural hue.   

“What the hell?!” Jihoon cries out, still in a defensive stance.

“Reached your limit, I see,” the Demon chortles, inching closer, “Even a false Demon is better than this pathetic existence! You might as well be an insect.” His laugh echoes through the hall, gloating over the near unconscious Jihoon, “I want to hear you cry! Scream! Beg me for your life! You and your filth have stood in my way for too long. I’ll kill you and the Hwarang!”

Jihoon’s head twitches, “Kill…the Hwarang? You?” It’s almost as if he’s keeping himself upright with sheer force of will at this point. “After we left Youngmin and the Hwarang fell to me, I felt like there was no way I could do all that by myself. I was just about ready to give it up.” Suddenly, the hair on his head shifts back to its demonic white, “...But now, when you say you want to erase everything we did… I’ll be goddamned if I let you destroy the Hwarang!” 

Ichor continues to fall from him and you know that if he’s to continue like this he’ll most certainly die.

“Jihoon, no!” You cry out, “If you don’t stop you’re going to die!”

His eyes flick to you and you can already see the resolution in his gaze, then he gives you a grin before looking back to Jisoo, “You really think I care about how much of my future I’ve gotta burn to get this bastard? I can’t let him kill me here. I can’t let this bastard and his damn sword get the best of me now!” 

Relaxed now, Jisoo speaks once more, “You’re practically dead already. What do you intend to do? This charade is pathetic.” Almost lazily, he swings his sword again. 

Jihoon cries out in pain, not having the strength to lift his sword entirely to block the blow. Then Jisoo’s sword slams into his right shoulder. Jihoon’s clothes are soaked in blood, his skin the color of parchment. 

“I hoped you might be entertaining, but I suppose it’s time for me to say goodbye now. Shame you don’t have enough energy to talk. I miss that dry wit,” Jisoo sighs, “What’s the matter? Can’t hold your sword anymore? Where’s that warrior spirit?”

Even though he struggles to draw breath, Jihoon musters what little strength he has left to reach for his sword. The point of the blade tips and weaves in the air as blood pours from his body, but he stands. Jisoo lifts his sword slick with the commander’s blood, and smiles. 

“At last! I can kill you with my own hands and erase the humiliation you gave me!” 

Before he can land another blow, the building shakes as an ear splitting crash barrels through somewhere on the estate. Smoke rapidly fills the room, making it hard to see.

“What is this?!” Jisoo spits, distractedly turning from Jihoon to find the root of the interruption. 

“Fire! Fire!” Cries scream out from deep in the building, and you can ascertain that one of the trebuchets aligning the fortified walls had been turned against the city for some reason or another in a last act of defense. 

The fire from the lit fodder spreads quickly, roaring around the room and licking at the sides of the hall. Black smoke pours into the room, irritating your eyes and throat. Even as the room plunges into a near unbearable heat, the two men don’t lower their swords. 

It’s only when the ceiling begins to give way does Jisoo remark, “Damn it, this place is falling apart.” Not wanting to endanger himself, he shoves his sword back into its scabbard angrily, glaring across the smoldering wreckage at Jihoon. “I’ll let you go this time. We’ll finish this duel another day. And you will die.”

He disappears shortly thereafter and you run to Jihoon, “Are you alright?!” 

Waxen skin and face writhing in pain, he doesn’t respond as he drops to the floor. And as he does, the near forgotten Minhyun walks toward you from his corner, unbothered by the flames around him. 

“The Demon clans no longer intend to involve themselves in your governmental squabbles.”

“Why?” Jihoon asks, sweat beading on his forehead. 

“We owed favors to Goguryeo. We feel those have now been repaid.” Minhyun shrugs, “Besides, even you must know that they will soon fall, regardless of the efforts of my kin.” 

You spot a bitter smile creeping along Jihoon’s lips, “... Yeah.” 

“And I suppose you intend to watch that ship sink?” Minhyun asks, “Silla never gave your Hwarang the recognition it so desired, and pawned you off when they had nothing to lose. Why do you still fight?” The truth of his words drive a knife into Jihoon’s heart, and you see his face fall. 

“We’re knights of the Crown, we fight for them no matter what, right?” Jihoon says with ragged breaths, “What I’m fighting for now isn’t Hanseong or Pyongyang, or any of those bastards that call themselves ministers. What I– no– What we’re fighting for is the bond in our hearts. The bond that we joined the Hwarang with.”

His hand clenches to his chest and he lets out a small ‘fuck’ before continuing, “It’s not easy, not by a long shot, but… I’d feel like a real asshole if I died before Youngmin came back.” 

Minhyun closed his eyes while Jihoon spoke, he now stands silent, “If Jisoo chooses to involve himself with either of you again, he will have betrayed the moral code that binds all of our kind. He will no longer have the support of the clans. He will be on his own.” He looks to the building around him, “I imagine this will be of little concern to him, but I ask you to hear his mind when he next tries you, he is not doing so at the behest of the Demon clans. He is, I fear, your problem now.”

Then, he turns and disappears. As you look to where he once stood, you hear Jihoon thud to the floor, collapsing from relief or exhaustion, you cannot tell. But, he’s fallen unconscious, and if you cannot escape soon, you’ll burn to death. 

“Hello?! Are you here?!” A figure bursts into the hall, shrouded in smoke but with a voice you recognize.

Wonwoo had come to the rescue in your most dire hour. He quickly helps you lift Jihoon so you can shoulder the weight of his body together as you leave the estate.  

Hanseong, the town Jihoon had fought tooth and nail to overtake, only remained in Silla custody for a few days. As an army of Goguryeo soldiers came within the following week to recapture the city, leaving your commander’s mission for naught. After the battle, Wong Kunhang’s army, along with the remaining Hwarang, set off to Koksan. Jihoon had somehow miraculously survived, but by no means has he recovered. For days he drifts in and out of consciousness, settling in at a small residence in Kyeju for him to recover. 

𝔐𝔞𝔶 20𝔱𝔥, 666 - 𝔎𝔶𝔢𝔧𝔲, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Since you’d arrived in Kyeju, you’d buisied yourself with taking care of Jihoon. As a Fury, most normal means of healing and medicine have little to no effect on him. So, most of your nursing consists of fervently hoping that his natural strength and tenacity would bring him through. Fortunately, your prayers begin to pay off and in time his wounds begin to heal. 

Although those made by Jisoo’s blade did not do so easily, or quickly. You find yourself thinking of the battle of Hanseong. After watching Jihoon, many of the reluctant soldiers came around to clash swords with the enemy. They had told him it was an honor to fight alongside the Hwarang, for they were true warriors. 

You replay that fated battle several times over the course of your day, you’re just about to do it again as you open the door to Jihoon’s room, set to change his bandages. Yet, you don’t have the chance, as when you peer in, you see him sitting at his desk. He’s healed enough to move and speak without pain, but he’s still meant to be confined to his bed. 

“You shouldn’t be up,” you say quickly, walking inside and shutting the door behind you, “When I said you were healthy enough to get up, I didn’t mean you were healthy enough to work!”

“It’ll be only a minute,” he murmurs, looking over a few papers before him, “I’m going back to bed as soon as I finish this.”

“You nearly died! You need rest!” You rush to him, setting the bandages down on the tabletop. 

“Died?” He laughs once, dryly, “Me? Hah. That was nothing. Barely a scratch.” 

“Barely a– Do you know how long I’ve been taking care of you?!”

“Fine, fine,” he relents with a sigh. “Just a bit more reading, that's all I ask.”

You sigh too, reaching for his blanket he’d strewn aside when he awoke. Moving to stand behind him, you drape it over his shoulders, “At least let me put this on you. You’re going to catch a chill.”  

“Hm, I’m sure even if I said I don’t want it, you wouldn’t listen to me.” 

“I’m glad you see how this works,” you say with a smile, “Now, as soon as that’s done, it’s straight back to bed.” 

At last he turns to look at you, his face quirked in a small, bitter smile, “Alright, fine. Sorry for the trouble.”

“Huh?” You stare back at him intently.

“Guess I should be thanking you and Wonwoo, huh? Well… I appreciate what you did. Thanks.” His thanks are rarely unaccompanied by cynicism, sarcasm or outright derision but this is different. Noticing your baffled expression he speaks again. “Something wrong? Did I say something funny?”

“Oh! No no no,” you quickly assure him, “It’s not that.” It’s more you’ve never seen him act so nice. 

After that, you leave him to his work, checking back an hour later to make sure that he’s asleep and not working himself to the bone. Once doing so, you return to your quarters for another few, quiet hours, before a visitor arrives in the night.

“I thought I’d come and pay him a visit…” You hear the voice of Wong Kunhang speak out as you approach the common area, you also note Wonwoo standing next to him.

“He’s resting at the moment–” You begin, but stop when you hear movement behind you. 

“Commander–!” Wonwoo says, rushing to Jihoon’s side, “I’m glad to see you standing! For a while, I really wasn’t sure what was going to happen.” His eyes begin to tear up and he blinks rapidly to clear them. 

“C’mon, don’t give me that,” Jihoon gives a short laugh, “You really think I’d die so easily?”

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he rubs his hand across his face awkwardly, trying to brush away the tears that refuse to stop forming. 

“Jihoon,” Kunhang says solemnly, “I’m going to be honest with you. You fought like a Demon back in Hanseong, I’ll give you that. Morale is through the roof. The whole army won’t stop talking about you. But your actions were dangerous and idiotic,” the once calm demeanor of the general turns angered. “You are a commanding officer, not a soldier! You don’t belong on the front line!” 

“General Wong, he’s only just recovered… Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh–” Wonwoo tries to quell the other’s discontent. 

“No! I’m going to give my piece, I won’t let him slide out of this one!” Kunhang shouts, “Listen to me, Lee Jihoon. Combining our men isn’t just about new clothes and new titles, we have to change about how we think about war. We have to learn new tactics. The commander charging at the front of the army does not show that we are improving our strategy!”

Flustered at this point, Kunhang struggles hard to keep his composure, “If the soldiers are the hands and feet, then their commanding officer is the head. Without a head, the body is a useless mess! This war will be lost if we succumb to our own pride!”

Jihoon’s eyes go wide. The words similarly mirror one of the last things that Chan had said to him. Keeping his head on so that the body can move forward… 

“Chan’s ghost back to haunt me,” Jihoon sighs out with a weighted smile, a faraway look in his eyes. 

“Is something funny?” Kunhang frowns, “This is serious! Don’t you understand how worried I was about you? Hell, how worried the whole army was about you?!”

For a few moments, Jihoon simply stares at him. 

“Say what you want!” Kunhang stands his ground, albeit a bit taken aback at the commander’s attitude, “It won’t change my mind!”

“You’re right, Wong. Sorry for worrying you.” He follows his surprisingly genuine apology with a similarly surprising bow.  

Kunhang has clearly prepared himself for a variety of reactions from Jihoon, but this had been none of them. For several moments he stands there, too flabbergasted to speak. 

“My apologies to you too, Wonwoo. I hear you helped carry me all the way here.”

“Oh no!” Wonwoo shakes his head, “No, it was nothing. Anything for you, sir.” 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 19𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔎𝔬𝔨𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Summer blooms from the remnants of spring in full fury. Rumors and news about the intense fighting floats in and out of the town, and you grow uneasy thinking about the loss of lives on each side. In the subsequent weeks following Wong Kunhang’s visit, he’s once again able to take Hanseong and keep a steady hand over keeping it in Silla's grasp. And although he hasn’t completely healed, Jihoon has decided to leave Kyeju as soon as he is well enough to march with Kunhang who’s now stationed in Koksan. 

The way there seems longer than you'd ever thought possible. At last, you’d caught up with the main body of the Hwarang. 

Hansol’s at the door to greet you the moment you arrive at the estate. 

“Commander,” Hansol says with a small smile, “I’m grateful to see you alive.”

“Glad to see you’re alright too, I hear you’ve been doing well.”  

Although Hansol looks relieved to be reunited with Jihoon, he frowns and rubs his hand to his forehead. Perhaps fatigue from the battles occurring is beginning to get to him. 

Jihoon looks past him to the people standing behind him, “Junghwan, Dohoon, nice to see you’re still around. Was starting to get worried about you two.” Despite their commander’s voiced appreciations, both wear glum expressions. 

It’s Dohoon who begins to shake before breaking down into tears, his voice quivering violently, “You entrusted me with Chief’s safety, b-but– I wasn’t strong enough! I couldn’t protect him!”

Although hearing his words, you cannot get yourself to grasp their meaning. For him to be this distraught can only mean one thing. 

“We have been told that at the end of last month that Youngmin was… beheaded in Pyongyang.” Hansol steps in after Dohoon fails to compose himself, being ushered aside and consoled by Junghwan. 

‘Beheaded.’ You swallow at the word. Youngmin had been killed like a common criminal, and you know it would have been pure humiliation for him. 

“Hm, didn’t even let him kill himself,” it almost seems as if Jihoon had expected this. His voice is controlled and unsurprised, but within his eyes you can see a bottomless, yawning despair. 

“It’s my fault he died!” Dohoon exclaims, “Please commander, I deserve to die as well!”

“I as well!” Junghwan adds, “I begged you to let me fight for his freedom, but I– I wasn’t successful! I’m a failure!”  

“You idiots! Look around you,” Jihoon frowns, “There’s no goodman way we have a single Hwarang left to spare! If you’re so prepared for death, then don’t give me your cheap words. Prove yourselves on the battlefield!”

The two fall silent after a quick, “Yes sir.”

Later that night, both Seungcheol and Soonyoung come to visit Jihoon.

As members of the Fury Corp, they had been resting when you’d arrived earlier in the day. 

“Your arrival has the men in something of an uproar,” Seungcheol muses, “It woke me somewhat earlier than usual.” 

“I heard you got hurt pretty bad, Commander. Didn’t think we’d see you again so soon,” Soonyoung says, almost scanning for wounds on the elder.

“Well, I couldn’t just sit on my ass once I heard there were battles happening all over the place,” Jihoon says, sounding calm and relaxed. You know that isn’t how he’s feeling on the inside though. If you have been feeling depressed since learning of Youngmin’s passing, you cannot begin to comprehend how he must be feeling. 

“We should be on our way then, our work begins at night, after all,” Seungcheol notes and begins to head for the door. Soonyoung nods and heads after him before Jihoon speaks up. 

“Soonyoung, do you think you can tell Hansol to come by?”

“Huh?” Soonyoung looks back, “Uh, sure… I’ll go and get him now.” Before he leaves he says one more thing to Jihoon, “I know you only just got here. But you should really rest tonight.”   

With both of them gone, the room falls into an awkward silence. Jihoon hasn’t told you to leave, but it seems unlikely that he’ll start talking to you either. Just as you’re about to break the quiet, Hansol opens the door and steps inside.

“I heard you had business with me. Can I help you?”

Without even waiting for him to settle in, Jihoon says, “From now on, I’ll be commanding from the front line.”

A strangled gulp treks down your throat as he says this out of almost nowhere. If he were to fight on the front line, the violence would be intense and he still hadn’t fully healed. 

“Do you intend to die in battle?” Hansol asks simply.

“No,” Jihoon shakes his head, “I won’t go out that easily. You’ve been out there. Only right for me to take that burden off you, right?” 

His presence would raise morale among the men but if he died, the Hwarang dies with him. 

“You raise an excellent point, sir. If you mean to take my place, however,” the air grows thick as Hansol’s hand falls to his sword, “I must ask you to defeat me first. If you cannot best me, then only death awaits you on the front lines.”  

“Getting a little full of yourself without me, huh?” Jihoon’s lips turn upward into a grin as his sword slides from its scabbard. 

“You shouldn’t be doing this!” You cry out as Hansol’s blade is also released, the blade glinting in the glow of the lanterns.

“Stay out of this!” Jihoon says and locks eyes with Hansol. Seconds linger as they remain unmoving, just then they leap towards one another, swords struggling against one another. After a bit, Jihoon is thrown backwards to sprawl across the floorboards. 

“What?!” He looks surprised. Even only partially healed, he still has far greater strength than a human, and he isn’t the type to go easy on a friend. 

“This war is not so easy that you might rush to the front line without your full strength,” Hansol says and as you look back at him your eyes grow wide.

“Hansol…” With his now reddened eyes and white hair, there’s no doubt that he’s a Fury. “You drank the pimul?”

“Don’t worry about me, I made my own decision.” The simple fact that he’s decided this path says more about the battles he’s been fighting than words ever can. Hansol looks to Jihoon, who’s rising to his feet, “I understand why you wish to fight, that is why I cannot allow you to.” He straightens himself and sheaths his sword, his hair returning to normal. “Perhaps you might be able to forget your pain in the midst of battle, but I cannot afford to let you do that. You cannot be permitted to turn a blind eye to our problems.”

Jihoon slowly puts his sword away, “Because I’m the Chief now?”

“Because you’re the only one who can unify the Hwarang.” After hearing that, Jihoon sighs, only allowing Hansol to continue. “Leave the front line to us. You, Jihoon, should remain here and plan our strategies.” 

“Fine. The front line’s yours until my wounds heal.” 

An honest, “Thank you” leaves Hansol, and then he turns to you. “I’m leaving him in your care. Don’t let him out of your sight until he’s healthy again.”  

You nod and give him what you hope to be a reassuring smile. He inclines his head to you, turns to Jihoon to give a short bow, then leaves. As soon as the door closes, Jihoon’s face darkens and his brows draw together. 

“Damn it… He’s gotten to the point where he doesn’t trust me and thinks I need you as a babysitter.”

“He’s just worried about you, that’s all,” you try to justify Hansol’s actions. 

Jihoon gives a bitter laugh, then stops suddenly. He gulps out a noise and clutches his stomach in pain, his body and hands shaking as his hair and eyes begin to change color.  With the bloodlust taking hold, he begins to groan out in pain. 

“This way,” you quickly take his arm and lead him to a room off of the main hall. In the open, anyone is privy to catch him. 

As he settles in the room, you set out towards him, and he has a look in his eyes as if he already knows what your next move is. You tug at your collar, loosening it like you’d done before. He leans toward you and you feel a sharp prick on your neck, you stay as still as you can as he bites down onto you. His hot breath panting along your neck, drinking slowly as he begins to calm. 

Eventually, he pulls back. There’s pain on his face but not from the bloodlust. 

“This can’t go on forever…” His face turns upward into a half sour smile, “You. Me. This war. Everything…”

“Jihoon?” His eyes are distant and he doesn’t seem to hear you. You can’t describe it but something feels strange, wrong, even. 

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 6𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔎𝔬𝔨𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 By the time Jihoon’s injuries heal, it’s early autumn. Battles still rage along the fronts, and Silla inches nearer and nearer towards its goal. Jihoon hasn’t received any orders of late, but you feel that that’s about to change when you hear Wonwoo storming down the hallway.

You’re settled in the main room with Jihoon, Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junghwan and Dohoon when the doors burst open, Wonwoo shouting, “I have news from Wong Kunhang! He says were to launch an offensive against Pyongyang.”

“Pyongyang? That’s the capital….” Junghwan says seriously, glancing towards Jihoon.

In other words, this may be the push to finally close in on Goguryeo. 

“What now then?” Dohoon looks to Jihoon as well.

“We’ll need to get there as soon as possible. No doubt Kunhang has some elaborate plan to route out their forces.” You haven’t seen Jihoon this excited in a while, and the others in the room pick up on his energy.  

“Our ships have already been sent to Ongjin, they will be able to converge on Pyongyang once the situation up north has settled.” 

“Then I should go to Ongjin first,” Seungcheol says, “We should establish a stronghold for when the main body of men arrives.” 

“Isn’t it a bit dangerous to have our representative be someone from the Fury Corps?” You postulate to the group.

“My father’s family is from Ongjin, you know.” Seungcheol says quietly, “I have a few connections there. I feel I am most suited to lead the advance guard. There’s… Something else that’s been bothering me as well.”

“Bothering you?” You question but all he does in response is nod and smile. 

“Seungcheol… you’re supposed to be dead, aren’t you?” Soonyoung interrupts, “Seems like that might be an issue.”

“A minor detail,” he waves it off, “easily dealt with.”

“In that case, he’s probably the best choice,” Wonwoo murmurs. 

“No,” Jihoon disagrees, “The Fury Corps isn’t cut out for that. You still can’t stand up during the day.” 

“It’s difficult, certainly, but not impossible.” Seungcheol argues, “I don’t see any reason to just follow behind the rest of the army, and I’d be glad to push myself for this.”

You don’t doubt his ability to do that, but you do question the validity of his motives. 

“There’s… a bit more to his message,” Wonwoo says after Jihoon and Seungcheol have been staring at each other for a moment. “Kunhang will be leading his men to Tagok Pass in hopes of stalling the Goguryeo reinforcements. I believe he means to buy time so that our allies can sack the city without interference. But…”

“The pass is on the front line right now,” Soonyoung drums his fingers along the hilt of his sword. “I understand what he’s trying to do, but I don’t think it’s going to be as easy as he thinks it’ll be.” 

“That’s a good point,” Junghwan sighs, “The enemy’s getting desperate, and we don’t know what else they’ve got up their sleeves.”

“If we want Kunhang to come back alive, we need to send some reinforcements to go along with him,” Jihoon ascertains. 

“I disagree.” Seungcheol frowns. “If we are to win in Pyongyang, we must arrive there at full strength.” 

“Are you saying we should abandon Kunhang then?” Hansol asks.

“Well, if both of our forces are wiped out by Goguryeo, there is hardly any point at all.” 

The men all shoot glances at one another, formulating their own thoughts and responses before Hansol speaks once more, “I will remain with Wong. Without their aid in previous battles none of us would be here. I will go to Tagok Pass. Jihoon, please take the rest of the men to Ongjin.” 

“Hansol, you–” Jihoon’s eyes grow wide.

“Then I’ll go and prepare to depart.” Before giving Jihoon a chance to respond, Seungcheol stands quickly and leaves the room.

Soonyoung doesn’t seem particularly happy about the way things have gone either, and after a moment of furious thought, he stands as well, “I guess I’ll go with him. Don’t really want to let him out of my sight, you know.”

 “Yeah,” Jihoon nods, “That’s probably smart.” 

“Be careful, Soonyoung,” you say as he walks past you. He gives you a small smile and a wink, then dashes out the door after Seungcheol. 

“Jeon,” Jihoon looks at the man still at the door, “I need you to go and tell Kunhang what we’ve decided.” 

“Understood,” Wonwoo says quickly, “I’ll be off as soon as I can.” 

Once he leaves, Hansol turns to Jihoon. Whether or not he was waiting for the room to be cleared, you’re unsure. 

“Please survive. No matter what happens.”

“What’s the matter?” His brow furrows as he looks to the other, “That came from nowhere.” 

“In the Hwarang, you and Youngmin upheld the path of a true warrior.” Even when slanted by their own kingdom, they had never compromised what they stand for. “Our standard of truth is a banner for everyone who fights. We lead the way.”

Hansol and Jihoon look at one another silently, before Hansol continues. “As the man who made the Hwarang into what it has become, it must be your duty to carry that standard. Every Hwarang before you and after is relying on that.”

“You make it sound so easy.” Jihoon replies with his thin lipped grin. “I’ll promise you this though, I’ll stick around until the Hwarang’s dead, or I am.”

“Thank you, Chief.” Hansol smiles, eventually turning to you, “I leave Jihoon in your care.”

The words are few but hold great emotion behind them, “We’ll be fine. I’m sure of it… After all, I don’t think he could die even if someone killed him. I’ve seen him on the verge of death many times, but he always pulls through. So,” your jaw locks and you look directly into Hansol’s eyes, “Please don’t die, Hansol.”

The battle at Tagok Pass is sure to be an intense one. Many lives, you’re sure, are going to be lost.  

“I won’t die even if I get killed?” Jihoon’s eyebrow piques, “That’s quite a statement. If you’ve got time to worry about me, maybe you oughta be worrying about yourself too, Hansol.” He’d said it as a joke but there’s no mistaking his underlying sincerity. 

“I won’t die easily either. After all, I will be fighting in the name of the Hwarang.” Hansol says calmly and then addresses you, “Thank you for your kind gesture.” 

And so, you accompany Jihoon to Ongjin. He’s still gravely concerned about Hansol, thus he’d ordered Wonwoo to remain alongside him at Tagok Pass. Leaving them both turns out to be much more difficult than you’d imagined. All you can do is pray that they survive, and that you will meet again someday.  

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 1𝔰𝔱, 666 – 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 As winter takes hold, the cold wind blows down on the main body of the Hwarang as they arrive in Ongjin. The trip had been impeded by several small snowstorms, but now upon your arrival a new problem is encountered: Seungcheol and the Fury Corps were nowhere to be found. Soonyoung, too, had been unheard from.  

From the townspeople in Ongjin, you hear disturbing rumors that murder has been on the rise in recent weeks. 

Upon reaching the regional minister’s house, you’re met with a man who splits a grin as soon as he sees Jihoon. “Long time no see, Lee. How are you?”

“I’m glad to see you’re doing well, Qian.”

Later on, you learn that this man is Qian Kun, the Tang navy’s second-in-command. When the Yamoto forces had fired upon Sabi some years earlier, Kun had been in command of the Tang ships that aided the Silla forces on land. While Jihoon hadn’t been at the battle, he was able to speak with and befriend the man when he visited Seorabeol some weeks later. 

“Have you already heard about Youngmin?” Kun frowns,as Jihoon nods. “I apologize for having been unable to help. Your kingdom has truly lost a great man.”  

“He would’ve been happy to hear you say that,” Jihoon says with a bitter smile, “But he wouldn’t want us to stand around crying about him. He’d want us to get to work. Can you give me a rundown of what we’re working with?”

“Unfortunately I don’t have the greatest news,” Kun says, “While we’ve secured the city, there is something… wrong occurring. I have requested a meeting with the newly implemented officials but I haven’t received any form of response. To top it off, there’s a suspicious group of men running around Ongjin. Well, there are rumors, at least.”

“Suspicious how?”

“Well murders have increased, and a few rumors report the assailiants running back to the minister’s home.” 

Suspicious men running around, possibly murdering civilians… Seungcheol and the Fury Corps unreachable… It isn’t hard to put two and two together. 

Jihoon and you lock eyes, no doubt thinking the same thing. 

“If this continues we may become sidetracked here from our main goal,” Qian states, “Perhaps if we could arrest these murders and restore peace in this area…”

“Kun, think you could leave the murders to me?” The other man opens his mouth to protest, but something in Jihoon’s gaze makes him change his mind and he nods. 

“Alright, I’ll leave this one to you. No more questions from me.” 

Once Kun returns to his men, you turn to Jihoon, “Do you think it’s Seungcheol…?”

“Can’t say,” Jihoon sighs out breathily, “You heard the same things I did. No way to know for sure but if it is… I’ll have to kill him.”

“Jihoon…”

“He got pretty freaked out when he heard about where a Fury's power comes from. Might be he’s pretty depressed right now. Maybe crazy.” He shakes his head and looks to the minister’s house, “Strange things are afoot in Ongjin. We can’t be careless.” 

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 2𝔫𝔡, 666 - 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The next day, Jihoon begins his investigation. Despite your attempts to convince him that he still needs rest, not the stress of a murder investigation, he presses on. And so, that is how you find yourself lounging around the rooms the Hwarang are occupying while Jihoon goes off on rounds with the rest of the men.

You’re engrossed in reading over some medical papers Namekawa had left you with when you receive an unexpected visitor. 

“Where were you this whole time?!” The papers drop from your grasp as Kwon Soonyoung steps into the room, “We couldn’t contact you, we were all so worried…”

“Do you know where Jihoon is?” He doesn’t answer your question, but rather jumps straight to the chase. 

“He’s off doing rounds at the minister’s estate…” 

“Ah,” Soonyoung looks a bit crestfallen, “Can you give him a message for me? I can tell you everything since we got here. Just make sure you pass it on to him.”

You gulp, waiting for him to open up. “The minister isn’t being cooperative. Chances are they're being pressured by the enemy somehow. At least that's what Seungcheol thinks. So, we looked around a little more and while we were doing that we found out that Heo is actually here.”

“What?!” You cry out at the unexpected revelation. Your father had been forced to do research on the Furies by the revivalists before the war broke out, or at least that's what you thought. 

“Yeah… and… he seems to be leading a unit of Furies for the Goguryeo forces.” Soonyoung frowns, “Well we figured we could just let that slide so we started watching their Furies, you know, where they go and stuff and well… I saw Seungcheol meeting with Heo.”

Soonyoung explains that Seungcheol told him they'd be more likely to get spotted if they moved together and went off on his own. This is pretty peculiar on its own but sometime after they split up Soonyoung witnessed Seungcheol meeting with your father. 

“I don’t know anymore… I don’t know what Seungcheol is thinking.”

“It doesn’t mean that Seungcheol is connected with Goguryeo, does it?” Your brow furrows. 

“If that were the case then there wouldn't be a need for him to lie to me though, right?” Soonyoung says frustratedly, “Doesn't act like he's got any plans to contact the rest of the Hwarang. I just didn't know what to do…” 

You’re not sure what else to say and just before you open your mouth you hear a commotion happening at the entrance of the building. The door to your room is kicked open and several strange men suddenly leap inside. 

“Who the hell are they–?! Shit!” Soonyoung shouts as they unsheathe their swords and lunge after him. He dodges the attack easily drawing his own sword as he moves. He strikes out at one of the men before he has a chance to recover. The man laughs and the spot where Soonyoung had struck him is beginning to heal immediately. Suddenly, the man's eyes begin to grow a deep crimson you understand what you're up against.

“Furies…!” 

“Get behind me!” Soonyoung reaches out and grabs your wrist, pulling you backwards.

“Now, there’s no need for that,” a new voice says from the entrance. You feel your eyelids footer incredulously after hearing a man's voice.  It's familiar… nostalgically so. 

“Father?!” You’re frozen in place as Soonyoung continues to fight the Furies. 

“What the hell!? Who are these guys! It's broad daylight! How are they moving swiftly?!”Although he's Clearly they're superior regards to swordsmanship, he's outnumbered and the daylight had weakened him. He's slow and his strikes are unsure. 

Your father maintains his cool composure, and he mutters under his breath as he observes the events, “Aren't they wonderful? Furies no longer restrained by the cycles of day and night.”

“You…” You stare at him, mouth agape, “You did this?”

“Of course, my child. I am unsure if the news has reached you yet but I was captured by the Goguryeo Army, and in this captivity I continued to research the pimul.”

“Father– you need to stop them!” You look to your friend fighting, “At this rate he’ll–” 

Heo Jinsang’s eyes widen as if he’s only just remembered and he looks over to Soonyoung with a smile. “Ah, yes. I don’t know how to thank you. Without you, it would have taken much longer to find my daughter.”

“You followed me?!” Soonyoung spits through grit teeth. 

Ignoring him, your father looks back to you and speaks with a soft voice, “I’ve come to get you. At last, we’ll be able to restore our clan.” 

“Clan…? You mean the Heo family?”

“With these superior Furies, restoring the glory of our clan will be child’s play.” Heo laughs, “Once the kingdoms bear witness to the potential of these breakthroughs, they cannot ignore us! We can even wipe out the Demon clans who rejected our plea for help, avenging our kin!”

“You’re planning on using Furies to restore the Heo lineage to power?” 

“Yes, I am. Everything I have done was for you.” His voice evokes the same tone he had used to speak to you when you were a child. You shake your head to combat it and his eyes narrow. With a few swift footfalls, he closes in, “You’ve been with the Hwarang for too long. They’ve corrupted you.”

No… It isn’t you who’s changed, it’s your father. 

“Goddamn it! Get off me you bastards!” Despite being out of breath, Soonyoung manages to swipe at the Furies with his sword, giving himself space. However, no matter the amount of wounds he’s able to inflict on them, they heal immediately.  

“Father…” 

“If we just sit down and talk this through, I’m sure you’d understand.” Your father’s face lies in a stony demeanor. 

“I–!” Before you can say anything else, he drives his fist into your stomach. Stars leap before your eyes, the world grows dark and you slip into unconsciousness.  

When you awake, you’re in an unfamiliar room. 

“Where…” Your hands gripping your head as you sit up, “Where am I?”

“You’re at the minister’s estate.” A voice says before you and you widen your eyes.

“Seungcheol?!” You cry out before noticing the figure next to him. Beside him stands your father. 

“What’s going on here?” You say as you scramble to your feet. “Why are you two together?!”

“I met with Heo secretly here in Ongjin, and we’ve agreed to work together in order to do Fury research.” Seungcheol explains, resting his arm on the hilt of his sword. 

“Then… You’re working with Goguryeo? You’ve betrayed Silla… Betrayed the Hwarang…”

“Is that what you think?” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow, “Interesting…” Explaining himself had never been one of Seungcheol’s strong points.

“How are you feeling, my child?” Heo asks sympathetically, “I apologize for the rough treatment. I hope you aren’t too hurt.” His tone is intimate and caring, you feel yourself wavering towards the father you used to know. 

“I suggest you make no attempts to escape…” Seungcheol says calmly but with more intimidation than you’d seen from him before, “We could make that difficult. In any event, it was reckless of you to bring her here, Heo.” He glances at you before continuing, “Jihoon is no fool. Her disappearance will surely mean that he will be onto our plans. I expect him at any moment.” 

“You told me that if I wanted to know where my daughter was, I just had to follow Kwon to the Hwarang.”

“Yes. I did.” Seungcheol’s lips curve into a frown, “But I never suggested to kidnap her. Alas, what’s done is done. No point arguing about it. We need to be thinking about what this could mean, and plan for it.”

 “I’m sure the Furies I left to deal with Kwon will return to the estate soon, you needn’t worry about the future.” Heo shrugs.

“What did you do to Soonyoung?” Your voice nearly breaks.

“I doubt he survived. After all, I did bring quite a few of them.” 

Your whole body shakes. You want wholeheartedly to not believe it, but the Furies that your father had brought were unlike any you’d ever seen before. Soonyoung had already looked pale and weak even before he’d started fighting…

“You just have to assume I’m dead?” A voice says from the open doorway, “C’mon, that hurts my feelings…” He’s leaning against the frame and someone brushes past him, glaring at Seungcheol and your father.

“You alright?” Jihoon asks as he looks at you. 

“I am!” You nod vigorously and he lets out a snort of laughter. 

“How did you find us?!” Heo asks incredulously, “I’ve made so many improvements on my Furies. How could you have destroyed them all?”

“Improvements? If you say so, but if you want to take out the Hwarang, you’ll need about ten times what you sent.” Jihoon smirks.

“I figured you’d be here soon,” Seungcheol murmurs, “You didn’t bring any of the men, though… Well, I suspected you wouldn’t. Still, doesn’t it seem rather reckless for the two of you to charge headfirst into unknown enemy territory?” 

“Explain.” Jihoon’s eyes narrow at Seungcheol, “Why didn’t you contact us?”

“There’s nothing for you in Ongjin.” Seungcheol says simply.

“I was given orders by Yeon Gaesomun to come here. They told me to take my Furies and kill the traitors who reside here. However, I found such a plan unagreeable when so many test subjects reside here…” Heo sighs out.  

“We found common ground in our distaste for Goguryeo,” Seungcheol explains, “and thusly decided to seize Ongjin for ourselves.”

“So you’re not fighting with our enemy…?” You struggle to piece together everything.

“I’m on your side, child. I have no intention of taking part in mankind’s disputes.” Your father says as he crosses his arms, “Let us bring retribution to the humans who destroyed our clan and the Demons who betrayed us. It is in our destiny to forge a new Demon kingdom with our own hands– no, we will be the only Demon clan!”

You recall Sooyoung explaining how the Heo village had been destroyed by humans. Even then, you can’t get yourself to agree with your father.

Just then, the sound of footsteps loudly resound out from the hallway. Furies pour into the room as Seungcheol smiles, “Ah, they seem to have noticed our intruders.”

“Hey–!” Jihoon’s eyes widen as he notices their faces, “They’re the Hwarang’s–!”

“Not only does this castle hold the remnants of Goguryeo’s Fury army, but also of the Hwarang’s Fury Corps.” Seungcheol crosses his arms, “All of the Furies that exist in both Kingdoms are gathered here.” 

Red eyes surround Soonyoung, Jihoon and you. No humanity resides in their gazes. 

“Please give us your help,” Your father calls out to you, “We need you to lead us. You must command the Furies and restore the Heo clan.” 

But you don’t care about restoring the clan. You don’t want to create more Furies so that blood can drive them mad. You don’t want to see more suffering. 

“Father… you’re wrong.” Heo’s eyes go wide when you speak. “Building a kingdom on the corpses of others isn’t right! I can’t agree to it!”

Human or Demon, every life is precious. Just because your home village was destroyed doesn’t mean you can oppress humans. 

“I believe Heo was saying that he’d be willing to assist the Hwarang.” Seungcheol interjects, looking at Jihoon. “What do you think, Lee? Would you like to lead this army of Furies against Goguryeo?” 

“You know the answer.” With Jihoon having been against Furies from the very beginning, you doubt he’s changed his mind about them.

“So I suppose that ends our negotiation.” Seungcheol sighs, slowly drawing his sword from its scabbard. “Very well…”

You stiffen, yet Jihoon doesn’t move towards his own blade. He remains still, cooly contemplating Seungcheol. Almost as if someone’s dumping white ink on it, Seungcheol’s hair slowly changes to white and he raises his sword.

Instead of swiping at Jihoon though, he cuts down a Fury standing nearby him. 

“All a Fury exists for is battle, and now we’ve taken that away from them…” Seungcheol shakes his head with a sigh, “The least I can do for them is let them die here, in battle.”

The room falls silent. Then it explodes in noise– the enraged cries of the Furies and the rattle of swords being drawn. 

“Soonyoung–” Jihoon says quickly.

“I know!” The younger shouts and drops into a fighting stance, slipping his hand around the hilt of his sword. A grin splits on his lips as his hair turns white, “Seungcheol, this is way too badass for an old guy like you! Why didn’t you tell us?!”

“Well,” Seungcheol chuckles, “as they say, to fool your enemies, you must first fool your friends.” Their swords whistle and spark through the air, Fury after Fury falling before them. “Besides, doesn’t the hero’s right-hand man make the best villain?”

Jihoon responds with a bark of wry laughter and draws his own sword in a flash of silver light as his hair turns white as well. The men get into their stances and face the Furies as Furies themselves.

“The hell are you talking about?” Jihoon says with a grin, “Still means the hero gets stuck cleaning up the damn mess.” 

As their three swords spin and hiss through the air, blood gushes and spatters, painting the walls of the estate a deep red. Wave after wave conquered, they drown their foes in a sea of blood. You notice that your mouth has gone dry, your hands beginning to shake. In the corner, you spot your father sitting down.

“Everything you told me was a lie?” Heo asks Seungcheol. “You said you wanted to do more research on the Furies in the kingdom of Demons… Why?”

“I saw the end.” Seungcheol answers, “I was trying to discover a way for Furies to live past their… limits. Our short lifespans made me impatient. To continue my research I even dirtied my hands.” Every suspicious thing he had done had been in the service of a single goal: saving his fellow Furies. “We have no future as Furies. You know this as well as I do, Heo.”

“No matter how resistant you make them to sunlight, they will push themselves too hard, and their lifespans will shrink and the bloodlust will drive them mad.” Seungcheol confirms the truth you’d all suspected: there is no way to save the Furies. “We are a mistake: a failed experiment. Furies are not something that should exist in this world. Let’s end this.”

Seungcheol’s true intentions leave you surprised, as does his admission that the Furies are a failure. Is he right? Can they not be saved? Has all hope been lost? You let your mind drift for a moment, and then you see a shadow move in the corner of your eye– A Fury only feet from you, his eyes red and mad with bloodlust. You reach for your sword but it’s too late.

Before your hand even touches the hilt, you see the Fury’s blade sweeping toward you. Blood splashes down onto the floor before you, but it isn’t yours. A figure standing before you had taken the blow in your stead.

“Father?!” 

The Fury pulls back for another swing but then it freezes, gurgles oddly and slides neatly in half, a blade glistening in the center.

“Turn your back on us in a fight, will you?” Jihoon spits as he looks down to the halved Fury, “Idiot.” He shifts his eyes up to your father’s wound, and you see his face twitch. Immediately, he moves closer and turns his back to the two of you, sword held at the ready.

“Are you… alright? Are you hurt anywhere?” Your father asks as he turns to look at you. There’s blood splattered all over his chest. The wound, now that you can see it, is undoubtedly a fatal one. 

“Yes, yes. I’m fine. I’m not hurt at all,” you say quickly. His hand reaches out and grasps your shoulder, he falls to his knees and you follow after him. Quickly you lay him on his back, clutching at his hand. 

“Our research was a… failure. I knew there was no future for the Furies…” He murmurs out as tears begin to well in your eyes, “But I couldn’t give it up… I wanted to bring back your clan, your family.” Ever since you were young he’d always tried to do what was best for you. “It seems my fate is to die with the Furies… I have committed terrible sins. This is for the best, please, don’t cry.” 

You nod your head knowing that if you’re to open your mouth the tears would never stop. He gives you one last smile, sighs a calm breath and is gone.

After what seems like an eternity, you look up. The battle is over. The Furies that came to fruition by the Hwarang and your father lie dead, scattered around the room. 

“Kind of a waste, isn’t it?” Seungcheol says as he looks at the bodies, “That many Furies could have been awfully useful… The Hwarang could have used these men.”

“You don’t win battles by thinking you’ll lose them.” Jihoon says.

“Well, you don’t win by thinking you’ll win either,” Soonyoung snorts with laughter, then coughs to cover it up.

It’s true, the Hwarang had lost a lot of Furies but their unity had grown stronger.

“Ack–!” A sudden burst of pain wipes the grin from Soonyoung’s face. Seungcheol, too, has doubled over in agony. Their hair which had returned to normal goes back to stark white. 

“Looks like we’ve reached our limit,” Seungcheol says through grit teeth.

Minhyun’s words suddenly flash to you. The Fury’s power isn’t a gift from the gods. You’re only borrowing life that you would spend decades on. 

Soonyoung sees your eyes go wide and gives you an awkward sort of laugh, “We were some of the first Furies.” They’d been in more battles as Furies than anyone else, and all of the strength and healing they’d enjoyed ate away at their futures until there was nothing left. 

“Did you know…?” The question leaves Jihoon as a whisper. 

Seungcheol smiles and then gives a slow nod, “What warrior doesn’t know his own body?” His legs suddenly shake violently and he falls to the floor, Soonyoung soon following. 

Jihoon drops to his knees and takes both of their hands in his own.

“Jihoon… Do you remember?” Seungcheol remineces weakly, “Back when we were at Kwak Hall, we would spend all night talking.”

“Yeah,” Jihoon nods, “We would say that Youngmin would never be content with being just the heir of a small school. We promised to do what we could for him…”

“Who would’ve thought he would leave this world before us?” Seungcheol frowns and his voice grows quiet, “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye, but without you, we couldn’t have built up the Hwarang.”

“Same goes for you too…” Jihoon says with a small smile, “You were the one that always calmed me down whenever I’d start a fight with Yixing.” He’s doing his best to act tough so that Soonyoung and Seungcheol won’t worry. 

“Looks like we’re taking the lead this time… Don’t be in too much of a hurry to catch up though, alright?” Soonyoung adds in a bright and kind tone, “I mean, you barely had any time to rest since you joined the Hwarang.”

Jihoon just nods.

“I’m having a hard time buying that ‘yes’. You’re a little too short-tempered to keep a promise like that…”

“Shut it, you little brat. You really think I’m gonna take that crap from you?”

Soonyoung’s face relaxes as Jihoon snarls back at him. Even in this moment, Jamein’s tender and kind for the benefit of his Chief. 

“You must go south.” Seungcheol suddenly says. “Heo said he used water from Tamna when he was refining the pimul.”

Your eyes widen– perhaps there still is hope. Maybe, just maybe, there’s a chance something south can repair the curse of the Fury to these men. Seungcheol’s last words are the fait muster of hope for the fate of the Furies. 

“Jihoon… Don’t… don’t lose sight of what matters, alright? Being reckless doesn’t work out so well.” Soonyoung’s voice has grown rough and raspy. Jihoon’s knuckles whiten as they tighten around his comerade’s hands. But with a sound like sand pouring over a stone, their hands crumble into ash. In moments, they are no more. 

“Jihoon…” You call out but he doesn’t answer. He only stares, silent, at the twin piles of ash that sit where his friends were only moments before. There aren’t any tears in his eyes, but even so he’s somehow crying. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there before he stands up. The room that includes only you two is devastatingly quiet.

“Let’s go.” He says quietly, his voice curt and clipped. Yet, when he turns to you, his eyes suddenly go wide. “Hey, no crying.”

You nod, trying to stop, but it’s no good. The tears don’t pause, regardless of how much you wipe them away. In one day– an hour– you’ve been forced to say goodbye to Soonyoung, to Seungcheol… and the father you haven’t seen in over a year.

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 17𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The events of the magistrate’s house resonate with you for a while, and after some time has passed you find yourself alone again, standing in front of the estate. Wisps of snowflakes fall around you, wind hitting your cheeks and chapping your lips.

“They sure took their sweet-ass time,” Jihoon quips as he exits the front gates of the building. His worn expression indicates a worried tiredness. 

“Hello,” you greet him, “How was the meeting?”

“How? Hmph.” He shakes his head, “Those idiots north of Pyongyang don’t like any of the plans we’ve proposed, even with Kunhang and I poking around as often as we are. Apparently with the incident here and continuing at Tagok, Munmu doesn’t trust us yet to act. That’s the bullshit they relayed! Can you believe that?”

Jihoon paces the front gate, arms crossed and breath puffing in the air, “They act all high and mighty on their capital in the north, but pussy out when it’s time for the final push. It’s pathetic, Munmu hasn’t done shit and is relying on the Tang for everything.” He frowns, “Whatever. Let’s head back to the inn, the sun’s really beating down today.”

“Okay…” A cloud of frustration seems to follow you as you return to the inn, most notably in Jihoon. “We’ll be there soon enough, hang in there.” His skin looks pale and watching him in silent agony makes your heart ache.

“Don’t worry about me,” he sighs, “How about you? Are you holding up alright?”

“I’m… fine. I mean, I’m pretty resilient.”

“How can you say that?” He lets out a dry laugh, “You stay up all night just to tend to me…”

“I’m tough.” You smile back, “When you finally fall asleep, it gives me the peace of mind so that I can rest easily too.” 

Jihoon’s lips curl and he doesn’t seem satisfied with your answer. Instead, he just stares at you. He turns his head gradually to the hues of red and orange covering the winter sky in the distance. You follow his lead and look towards the horizon. 

“Huh…?” Your vision suddenly blurs. 

“Hey, what’s the matter?” Jihoon’s right next to you, but yet his voice sounds so distant. 

Before you know it, your body collapses to the ground. 

“Hey!” Jihoon shouts out, “You alright?! Hang in there!”

When you regain consciousness, you discover yourself tucked snugly in bed. 

“About time you woke up,” Jihoon says as you look around the room. “Do you know where you are right now?”

“Ah! Jihoon…” Once you  realize that it’s him, you snap out of your daze. “I’m sorry, I–” 

“You idiot!” He shouts, causing you to jump. “If you weren’t feeling well, you shouldn’t have gone outside. You should’ve rested!”

“I’m sorry…” It feels as if a stone has dropped into the pit of your stomach as he scolds you, and you can only look down at your hands. 

“Uhm, well… I guess I shouldn’t be too hard on you,” Jihoon sighs. “You’ve barely had any chance to rest, especially after what happened with your father’s passing… I can’t really be surprised that you would push yourself to act like everything’s normal.”

But he’s lost people too, and if you’re suppressing how you’ve been feeling you can’t imagine the turmoil happening within him,

“Until further notice, you don’t have to join me when I meet with members of the war council. You’re going to stay here to rest.”

“What?” You shake your head, “No, I’m fine. Today was just a lot to handle. So, please… I’ll be careful. I won’t let this become a problem again in the future.”

“Why? Because Youngmin, Chan and Eunseok asked you to watch after me or something?” His head tilts, “None of the men who died for us would have wanted you to look after me at the expense of your own health.”

He does have a point. But that isn’t the only reason you’re still here.

“I… I want to be by your side, Jihoon.”

“Yeah?” His brow furrows, “Why’s that?”

“What do you mean ‘why’?” I, um…” You can’t continue. Of course, you know the true answer but to admit that is a bit too much. There’s no way you can tell him your feelings. Suddenly, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Well, fine. Whatever,” he waves it off, flashing his usual sense of detachment, muttering to himself,  “If you don’t want to tell me, I don’t care.” Caught up in his own thoughts, he mutters something shortly, “You were close with Namekawa, right?”

“I wasn’t close with him… My father was, though.” You admit, “However, he did watch after me frequently.” 

“I see. He’s a good man, but I just can’t seem to put my full trust in him.” 

“Okay…?” You can’t quite grasp the point Jihoon is trying to make. 

“If anything happens while we’re out here, I want you to find him and stay with him.” Jihoon states, “Even if Goguryeo catches you, they won’t touch you as long as you’re with him.”

“What? Why would they–”

“Look. When you’re at war, you can’t just prepare for victory. Gotta consider your defeat as well.” Jihoon crosses his arms, “I’m sure Doctor Namekawa will show up here any day, so when that happens…” He falls silent. After a while, he shakes his head tenderly, “Nothing. Forget it. I’m just rambling.”

In the empty space of your conversation, you try to sift through what Jihoon’s trying to say. All you can do is pray that this brief, peaceful reprieve will prolong itself for a bit longer. 

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 21𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 In the following days Kun and Jihoon make another trip to the war council stationed in the minister’s home. Although they hope their audience with the officials will be fruitful, it turns out to be less than eventful. 

“Yeah,” Kun sighs, “It’s no use. The water’s going to be frozen over soon enough, I get that. But waiting until it thaws in the spring…” 

“It’s idiotic,” Jihoon agrees. “Guess we should kick back and relax until then, huh?”

“Even if you’re joking it’s not funny.” Kun frowns, “We’re only giving them more time to reinforce Pyongyang.”

“Sure,” Jihoon says, “But it’s not like they’ve got anyone else to come in and save them. They’ll be holed up in the city, waiting for a reprieve. If they’re smart they’d have surrendered by now.”

“Knowing Gaesomun, it’s not like he’ll have a shortage of ideas of how to turn this around. For fuck’s sake he killed their last king to wrest power from him. I suppose we’ll refrain from making any rash decisions until we reunite with Boo.”

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 26𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 You find Jihoon in his apartments when you approach him, “I hear our forces are gathering in the north of the city… Are we leaving?”

“The Hwarang serves two things:” he sighs, “the King and the Kingdom. That hasn’t changed.”

“The Hwarang show the way, right?” You point out.

“It’s funny, isn’t it? All this time, we had those lords and ministers looking down and judging our actions. Now look at us.” You can almost recall Youngmin’s grin as Jihoon smiles. 

“Well, that’s one more reason not to die, then.” 

It’s a burden on him, undoubtedly, but Jihoon has seen many of his friends lay down their lives for the Hwarang and what it represents. Knowing what it had meant to them, he can’t allow himself to die.

“As long as the men believe in what we stand for, I can’t let the Hwarang die.” The doubt you’d seen in him weeks before is gone. He’s accepted his place at the head of the Hwarang. “I have to protect them.”

He looks over to you, his gaze warm, it makes you feel better than you have in a while. Just being next to him is enough to make you feel like everything is right in the world. 

𝔇𝔢𝔠𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 30𝔱𝔥, 666 – 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔧𝔦𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 A few more days pass and the men you’d left to go to Tagok Pass finally reach Onjin. Unfortunately, bad news comes with their victory over the pass.

“Hansol has fallen in battle,” Wonwoo reports, his head bowed, “His last words were ‘Leave the rest to Jihoon’...” 

Ever since this war started, you’re unsure of how many times you’ve seen this expression on a warrior’s face. You bite your lip until it almost bleeds.

Jihoon puts his hands on Wonwoo’s shoulders, giving him some words of encouragement, “I’m sorry I put you through that, Jeon. I’m just glad you made it back alive.”

Wonwoo’s eyes grow wide and he looks overcome with emotion, “Th–Thank you sir!”

Soonyoung and Seungcheol lost their lives in Ongjin, and Hansol at Tagok… This means that Jihoon is the only Fury left among the Hwarang.

“It’s been hard already, but I’m pretty sure things are going to get worse,” Jihoon crosses his arms, “You’ve all fought enough, so…” 

Wonwoo sets his jaw and looks back at Jihoon, “I’ve given my life to the Hwarang, it just hasn’t been lost yet. We’ll follow you to the end of the world and back, sir.”

“Me too!” Junghwan says firmly, “I’ll follow you all the way!”

“Let me accompany you, no matter where it takes us!” Dohoon adds.

“You guys…”  Jihoon’s almost at a loss for words.

“We want to fight as the Hwarang, not as foot soldiers of Silla. We want to fight for the justice we believe in.” Wonwoo smiles at him reassuringly. 

You’re sure that if Youngmin were alive, he’d be crying. The Hwarang united in body and mind. A great happiness wells within you and suddenly you can’t hold it in any longer. Tears spill forth from your eyes.

“... Idiots.” Jihoon’s face twists into a sneer, but there isn’t any hiding the warmth in his eyes as he looks out over the men. They know the coming battle will not be an easy one, but there is no doubt in their mind: their place is with Jihoon and the Hwarang.

' MOVE FAST, KEEP QUIET ' | y. jeonghan

synopsis : the one where everyone's wondering who has captured the heart of one racing's brightest stars. is it their very own engineer? their teammate? their biggest rival? well, the answer is none of those three. pairing : yoon jeonghan x gn!reader genre/s : smau, racer/f1 au, angst if you squint extra notes. kinda suggestive ? also, yes ik strategist and engineer are two diff roles but for the sake of simplicity they're the same thing now HAHAHA

song rec : taylor swift's i can see you

from reese, with love <3

is this a one-shot..? will it be a series..? i genuinely don't know i just wanted to combine my three personality traits : kpop, tswift, and f1 HAHAHA also my fingers have been itching to write something based on icsy the second i heard it >_< ty for reading ! i would really love to know what you think of this particular one- asks/replies/rbs are much appreciated hehe hope you're all taking care !

And No News | J.Ww

Genre: angst, est relationship

Summary: Wonwoo can't reach you all day and he was worried.

Wonwoo tapped in the passcode and slipped into your apartment. The place was dark, only a sliver of streetlight filtering through the blinds. You weren't home yet. He glanced at his watch—11 pm, and still no sign of you. His jaw tightened, frustration simmering beneath his usually calm demeanor. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed deeply before dropping onto the cold, untouched couch.

He fished out his phone from his pocket and stared at the screen. None of his messages had been delivered. Maybe your phone had died, or worse, maybe you turned it off on purpose. He didn’t know, and it bothered him more than he wanted to admit. It felt like you were shutting him out, like he was some shadow lurking on the outskirts of your life, some afterthought you remembered only when it was convenient.

Wonwoo knew it was petty to think that way. You were busy; he got it. He had his own responsibilities too. But he always tried to carve out space for you, for this—whatever it was that you two had. Yet it was starting to feel like he was the only one doing any of the carving, the only one bending and compromising until there was nothing left of himself. He hated comparing, but lately, it seemed like he was the only one trying to keep your relationship from crumbling into something unrecognizable.

The sound of the door code beeping startled him from his thoughts. He glanced at his watch again—it was past midnight. An hour had slipped by without him even realizing. He looked up as you stepped in, calling his name softly, like you hadn’t expected him to be there. You noticed him immediately because of the faint glow of the lamp he’d turned on.

“Hey,” you greeted, your voice weary as you dropped your bag and keys on the coffee table. Wonwoo watched you silently, his gaze following you as you shuffled toward the bathroom without another word. No explanation, no apology, not even a simple how are you? The door clicked shut, and he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Of course, you were probably tired. You always were these days. But so was he.

When you finally emerged, fresh-faced and changed into your pajamas, you walked over to him, crossing your arms as if bracing yourself for something.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your tone neutral, almost distant.

Wonwoo didn’t answer immediately, his eyes scanning your face, searching for a sign—any sign—that you cared even a fraction as much as he did.

“What time is it?” he asked quietly.

You glanced at the clock and sighed. “Yeah, it’s late.”

“It’s past midnight,” he repeated, his voice tighter this time. “What were you doing out this late?”

You shifted uncomfortably, taking a small step back. “I was working… then I had dinner with a friend.”

Wonwoo swallowed hard, his throat dry. He hadn’t eaten because he’d been waiting, sitting here like some idiot who believed you’d come home in time. But that wasn’t what bothered him. No, it was the way you didn’t even think to inform him, the way you assumed it was okay to leave him hanging.

“I tried texting you all afternoon,” he said slowly, holding up his phone. “But your phone was off.”

You rubbed your face, exhaustion lining your features. “Sorry, I forgot to charge it.”

Wonwoo let out a humorless laugh. “You always say that. It’s not the first time your phone’s died while you’re working, and it’s not the first time I’ve been left wondering where the hell you are.” His voice rose slightly, unable to keep the bitterness out. “I was worried about you all day.”

“I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been caught up with a project we need to finish by the weekend. I lost track of time and got distracted.” Your voice was pleading, but it only made the irritation in Wonwoo’s chest flare hotter.

“‘Lost track of time,’ ‘forgot,’ ‘I’m sorry.’” Wonwoo’s eyes blazed as he leaned back against the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if it held all the answers he was searching for. “Last time, you said sorry too. But you still did it again. Every. Single. Time.”

“I know—” you began, but he cut you off, sitting up abruptly.

“No, you don’t know!” he snapped, startling both of you. “You don’t get it. I’m tired too. I have things to do, responsibilities to take care of, but I’m always here, aren’t I? Waiting for you, making excuses for you, forgiving you before you even apologize—if you even bother to apologize at all.”

“Wonwoo, please—”

“Please, what?” he demanded, his voice breaking a little. He stood up, towering over you, his eyes filled with something raw and painful. “I’m tired of always coming second. Of always being the one who has to understand. You say you’re sorry, but you don’t change. You never change.”

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, but his emotions were spiraling. He looked away, jaw clenched. “Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one trying to keep us together. Like I’m… I’m the only one who even cares.”

“That’s not fair,” you whispered, your voice shaking slightly. “I’m doing my best. It’s just work—”

“It’s always work,” Wonwoo muttered bitterly. “You know what? I get it. Work is important. I would never ask you to choose. But… would it kill you to make a little more room for me? For us?”

Silence fell between you two, heavy and suffocating. You looked down, your lips pressed into a thin line, and he knew then that whatever he said, however much he begged, it wouldn’t change a thing.

“Forget it,” he muttered, brushing past you and heading for the door. “I should go. You’re probably tired, right? Just get some rest.”

“Wonwoo, wait—” you called, reaching out to him, but he was already halfway out the door.

“Goodnight,” he murmured softly, and before you could respond, the door closed behind him with a quiet thud. And you were left standing there, alone, with the apology you never got to say stuck in your throat.

*

Wonwoo never got mad—really mad. And last night was the first time you’d heard his voice rise like that, cracking through the usually calm and unshakable persona he carried like armor. Sure, you two had argued before. Little things here and there, petty misunderstandings that fizzled out almost as soon as they started. It was always resolved with one of you giving up or simply brushing it aside, pretending it hadn’t happened in the first place.

In the beginning, you were the one who used to pick fights. His calm and quiet demeanor had frustrated you to no end. You couldn’t understand him, couldn’t read him, and the constant absence—both physical and emotional—drove you insane. He was always caught up in his work, giving little time for you two to sit down and have a real, heart-to-heart conversation.

You used to demand updates, craving any tiny piece of information that would give you a sense of closeness. Where was he? Who was he with? Why couldn’t he spare a second to reach out? Wonwoo was a terrible communicator, leaving you grappling to hold onto the loose threads of your relationship. But he had changed for you. Little by little, he’d learned how to make room for you, even if it meant stepping outside of his comfort zone. You’d seen his effort, and that had made you fall for him even harder.

But then things flipped. You were the one who got busy, swept into the whirlwind of your new job at an event organizing company. The endless meetings, sleepless nights, and back-to-back projects consumed your time. You thought he’d understand since he had always been the busy one. Yet as you dove deeper into your career, it was as if you’d unknowingly turned into the very person you used to resent him for being—distant, preoccupied, forgetting to even check in.

Wonwoo’s patience was unraveling thread by thread, the steadiness that had once drawn you to him now cracking under the weight of your absence. It was almost as if he were fighting an unseen rival—your job, your responsibilities—jealous in a way that confused you. Did you like his attention? His sudden need to know your every move, to constantly check up on you? Yes, you did. But you had so much on your plate that you assumed he’d understand, just as you had tried to understand him before.

Now, standing in the cold bathroom light, you were doubled over the sink, the sour bile of your dinner clawing its way up your throat. You retched violently, but nothing came out—only a bitter, acrid taste lingering on your tongue. The pain in your stomach was relentless, searing hot, and spreading like wildfire. You clutched the sink’s edge, trying to steady yourself, but your vision blurred as a wave of dizziness crashed over you.

Your knees buckled, body folding as you slid against the wall and slumped onto the cold tile floor. You tried to take a deep breath, but your lungs felt constricted, and each inhale only made the pain worse. Every nerve screamed in agony, and your entire body felt heavy—like it wasn’t even your own anymore.

Fumbling blindly, you reached for your phone on the bathroom counter. You didn’t know who else to call, who else would drop everything for you at a moment’s notice. Your fingers trembled as you dialed the one number you had on speed dial—Wonwoo’s.

It rang once, then twice, and for a moment, dread crept in. What if he didn’t pick up? What if he was still too upset, too angry with you?

Finally, the line clicked, but instead of the familiar warmth you usually heard in his voice, you were met with a cold, strained tone. “What is it?”

His indifference hurt more than you expected, but you couldn’t dwell on it. You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing out the words between ragged breaths. “Can you come…?” Your voice was a weak rasp, barely audible even to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” His tone changed instantly, the sharp edge replaced by alarm. “Where are you?”

You leaned back against the wall, your body sliding further down as your grip on the phone loosened. “I think… food poisoning,” you managed to whisper, feeling the world start to tilt and spin around you. “I think I’m going to pass out…”

“Wait, what?” Wonwoo’s voice grew louder, panic bleeding into each syllable. “Where are you? Are you home?”

“Yeah,” you breathed out, struggling to stay conscious. The phone slipped from your grasp and hit the floor with a soft thud. You could faintly hear Wonwoo’s voice calling your name, his words frantic and urgent, but it felt like it was coming from somewhere far away, almost as if you were underwater.

“Hey—stay with me! Can you hear me? I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just hang in there!” His voice cracked, the desperation palpable.

You tried to nod, to say something, anything, but your vision was darkening, the pain in your stomach swelling until it felt like you couldn’t breathe. Cold sweat trickled down your face, and you fought to keep your eyes open, to stay awake for just a little longer.

“Wonwoo…” you whispered weakly, but your voice was swallowed up by the crushing silence of the bathroom.

Then everything went black.

*

Wonwoo sat quietly in the waiting room, eyes fixed on the floor as the doctor examined you. The sterile, cold atmosphere of the hospital did nothing to ease the storm of thoughts swirling in his mind. The moment he got you to the emergency room, all the anger and frustration from the night before had drained from him, replaced by an overwhelming sense of guilt. This was his fault—he was sure of it. You were lying there, weak and suffering, because he couldn’t understand you, couldn’t meet you halfway.

He was selfish. He knew that much about himself. From the moment he met you, you were everything he had ever wanted—smart, beautiful, independent—but deep down, he feared that he couldn’t be enough for you. He’d always been terrified that his flaws, his shortcomings, would eventually drive you away. But you had changed him. You had shown him how to grow, how to be better, and he wanted to be better—for you.

But last night… last night was different. He lost control. He let his insecurities get the best of him, raising his voice at you for the first time in your entire relationship. It felt wrong, and yet, in the heat of the moment, he couldn’t stop himself. He knew now that you weren’t the only one at fault. You had been caught up in your new job, excited and busy with the demands of a new career—exploring everything you could bring to the table. And more than anything, you were happy. It was written all over your face when you talked about your work, a joy you hadn’t had in your last job.

He should have understood that. After all, he had been in the same position not too long ago. When work consumed him to the point where he couldn't find time for anything else, including you. How could he have forgotten that?

The realization made his chest tighten with regret. He had no right to say half the things he’d said last night. The harsh words, the accusatory tone—they were driven by his own insecurities, not by any real fault of yours. He had projected his fears onto you, punished you for doing the same thing he had once done, and now you were lying in a hospital bed because of it.

The sound of footsteps pulled him from his thoughts, and he looked up to see the doctor approaching. “It’s food poisoning,” the doctor said, his voice calm and professional. “She’s been treated, and once she wakes up, she should be fine. It wasn’t anything too serious, but she’ll need some rest.”

Wonwoo exhaled deeply, a rush of relief flooding through him. It wasn’t something worse. You were going to be okay. But still, the weight of guilt sat heavy on his shoulders. He had almost lost you, not just because of the food poisoning, but because of how badly he had handled everything. He realized now that his anger wasn’t truly directed at you—it was at himself, for not being able to keep up, for not being the partner he thought you deserved.

As he waited for you to wake up, Wonwoo made a silent promise to himself: he would fix this. No more insecurities, no more resentment. He would try harder, be more understanding, and give you the space you needed to grow. Because, in the end, all he wanted was for you to be happy—even if it meant stepping aside and letting you thrive.

“Wonwoo...” your voice was weak, barely above a whisper, but it snapped him out of his anxious thoughts. He immediately turned to you, his heart skipping as he saw your eyes flutter open. Without hesitation, he dashed to your bedside, his face softening with relief.

“Do you need anything? Are you okay?” he asked urgently.

You mumbled, “Water...” and he was quick to get some. As he gently helped you sit up, holding the glass to your lips, the sight of you drinking, of you finally awake, allowed the tension in his chest to ease.

“How do you feel? Is your stomach still killing you?” Wonwoo's voice was full of concern, his eyes searching your face for any sign of lingering pain.

You shook your head slowly, “No, I’m fine now.” Your voice was hoarse, but steady. “What time is it?”

He glanced at his watch. “It’s just past lunchtime. You’ve been out for about two hours, baby.”

You sighed, leaning back against the pillows. “I must’ve scared you when I called this morning.”

Wonwoo shook his head, leaning closer to reassure you. “No, don’t worry about that. Honestly, I’m just relieved you called. I don’t know what I would’ve done if you passed out and I didn’t know.” His voice was soft, but there was an underlying fear that hinted at how much the morning had rattled him.

You nodded, the weight of everything from last night pressing against your chest. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t be,” he quickly interrupted.

“No,” you insisted, looking him in the eyes, “I’m sorry for last night, and for... all the other times. I made you feel like you were being neglected.”

Wonwoo sighed, lowering his gaze. “It’s not just that. I was being childish. I let my frustration get the better of me. I was wrong, too. I was selfish. I’ve been so caught up in my own feelings that I didn’t stop to think about how hard it must be for you... waiting for me while I was busy all the time.” His voice cracked a little as he finally admitted the guilt he’d been carrying.

You reached for his hand, your touch warm and reassuring. “But still, I shouldn’t have made you feel like I was ignoring you. I wasn’t trying to push you away. It’s just... I’ve been feeling so overwhelmed with work lately, trying to prove myself, trying to manage everything.”

Wonwoo looked at you, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I know. I get it now. And I don’t want you to take anything I said last night to heart. It was just... I was angry, and I didn’t mean it. I promise.”

You gave him a small smile, one that held both forgiveness and exhaustion. Then, with a playful stretch of your arms, you said, “I want a hug.”

Wonwoo couldn’t help the soft chuckle that escaped him, and without hesitation, he wrapped you in a warm embrace, one that seemed to melt away all the lingering tension between you. It felt right—like this was where you both needed to be after everything.

“Let’s get lunch after this,” Wonwoo murmured, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Anything you want.”

Your ears perked up, and you pulled back just enough to look at him with playful curiosity. “Anything I want?”

Wonwoo chuckled again, his smile soft and full of affection. “Yes, anything you want.”

He leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before whispering, “I love you. I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

As his words sank in, you felt a warmth spread through your chest, and for the first time in days, everything felt at peace.

ash and cinders • l.s.m.

Pairing: lee seokmin x fem!reader Genres: smut (minors dni!), angst, royalty!au, fantasy!au, gods/goddesses!au Warnings: magic, mentions of blood, war, cruelty, tyranny - all that good stuff, mentions of religion (au-specific), violence (i.e. suggestion of murder), (death) threats, and possible gaslighting 💃🏻 which just means a minor power play between them at first okay 😬 i promise it's not that bad lmao i'm just paranoid, lots of making out, oral (fem. receiving), lil bit of temp play tbh, little bit of choking, uh I wrote this so long ago and just finished it so lmk if i forgot anything?? it's just basically me attempting to write prettily uwu WC: 4.24k A/N: soooo, this has been rotting in my drafts FOREVER!!! but yeah seokmin is my most darling, favorite boy i've ever stanned anyways ofc i couldn't help but use his elle magazine photos (yes that's how long this has been ROTTING) ahhhhh - ahem anyways this goes hand-in-hand with Mischief Maker so definitely recommend checking that one out too! heheh <3

He only stayed during the night.    

When the blanket of darkness covered even the moon with a hazy layer of clouds, leaving tiny twinkling stars for a traveler’s guide. The fire once dancing in the hearth dwindled down to scarlet embers barely emitting enough heat to fill the large quarters.

Not that it mattered.

Even as you lay naked amidst the silken sheets strewn upon the grand bed, the thought of your lover’s return alone was enough to engulf your body in a flame of burning anticipation that settles and simmers between your legs.

He had been gone far too long. A lengthy patrol around the surrounding territories had taken him away from your embrace. Although every morning the sun’s rays tickled your face as a sweet greeting and bathed you in a radiant light through the day, nights without him were by far the worst.    

Cold.    

Lonely.    

Dark.

On usual accounts, it was a grievous crime to keep the queen waiting. But you would forgive him for anything, wouldn’t you? It’s exemplified in the way he bursts through the doors without so much as a courteous knock that even your most trusted servants must abide by, water droplets dripping from his auburn bangs.

Despite the eagerness to see you as soon as possible, he refused to step foot into your chambers when reeking of blood after fierce combat and soiled with dirt from travel. You always protested. The gilded throne you reigned from, the heavy crown upon your head, and even the bed you shared — all were built upon those very foundations. But your lover insisted on only showcasing the glorious side of things to you.

The gold.    

The diamonds.

The luxuries.

All which adorned you by day. Glowing, glistening, and shining. Gems and jewels, fabrics woven from the highest quality quickly reduced to layers that only became a hindrance once it came time for his descent upon you. For you were absolutely beautiful clothed — this he very well knew — but when your whole body was bared naked for him and him alone? You were truly the definition of divine.

Those who dared to speak ill of you tried to foster ridiculous claims. Critical of the wealth in your possession. Mocked what they presumed was a lack of ambition. Wailed that you were a witch. A young monarch on an undeniable downfall to tyranny, one that would lead them all to hellfire and ruin.

Anything to validate that you were not worthy of the royal seal emblazoned across the lands in honor of a valiant leader with a royal bloodline still running through your veins.

Hypocrisy at its finest when you were the reason that they were bestowed or able to retain property linked to their names, money in their pockets, and a legacy to live by under your prosperous reign. Arrogant to cast down the very thing that elevated them to their current standing. But their greed would eventually come back to bite them. One day.

Even the religious sect whispered lowly, hidden in the shadows of the grand temples. Doubts that the king actually held a shred of affection for his partner — if the seldom visits seen visiting your chambers only when night falls were of any substantial evidence to go by. That he only lay with you out of duty, shackled and bound to an imposter who was never a faithful servant to the gods like they were.

Because not one of them truly believed that a god could ever favor, let alone love, a human.

You knew you were a savior to as many as you were also an enemy. A hindrance and a threat. A bold refusal to control or be controlled. There was nothing more to do other than lead your people as fairly as you judged. 

All the preposterous assumptions infuriated him — your devoted knight, unorthodox husband, and scandalous lover. But he manages to temper his fiery rage out of respect for you. Behind your ruthless, steely intent is a righteous and kind heart that always calls out for him, now fully vocalized and embellished by the sweet voice he's missed hearing dearly.

“Seokmin,” you murmur, grasping his warm hand once he's within reach.

An entity of many epithets with an existence worth a millennium beyond comprehension and full of worship. Yet his favorite phonetic combination he'd ever heard was the one that fell breathlessly from your lips. The closest the human tongue could get to a god’s true name. And his second favorite would be yours, the syllables rumbling in his chest like a song and you smiled in contentment.

He was back, he was home, and he was yours.

Even in the darkness, Seokmin glowed. The ethereal radiance surrounding the broad expanse of sinewy muscles easily proved his lofty status as the great god of the sun. But it was also his eyes, flickering with the unmistakable presence as one of many deities. The kind of power that has managed to refrain from turning you into ash and cinders.

Whether it's attributed to your resilience, a ruler born to stand out and lead, or an entirely different reason — or a mixture of all — Seokmin isn't really sure. He's not the first to appear in a human vessel nor the last, with at least twelve of his known brothers wandering the mortal world for various reasons.

He wonders if he's the first to bow his head willingly, though, holding back his more devious and destructive tendencies. To pay back tenfold the worship he's received since the beginning of time all to you — a mere human — yet nonetheless, his queen.

The event of swearing his undying fealty feels like it was yesterday. For a being that persists forever, it may as well have been that short ago. Every memory he etches and sears into his mind for eternity consists of you, and only you.

How could he forget? How was he supposed to bury away the confident smirk that graced your lovely lips? Would he ever not recall the first time he bent the knee in such desperation? Not for a trick or as a dark seduction that tumbles into a dreadful demise, a conquest for carnage, and an abuse of his powers. But instead for the good of humanity — however short of an era it may be.

And maybe… for more. One that his heart fears to admit, for it does not beat within his chest, but in a plane beyond the reach of mortals.

"Would you kill for me?"

"For you, anything," the god affirms. "I have laid waste to kingdoms, countries, empires, and even continents themselves. There is nothing I'm incapable of."

"And if I asked you to behead the entire entourage that has traveled with you?"

"… If it is what you will, then it is simply my command to follow. For you, I am a lone knight at your disposal."

Silken skirts flare out as does your anger when you turn away from the large windows in the tower's tiny excuse of a throne room — hardly fit for the heir — showcasing a brief flash of the lethal dagger strapped to your thigh. "Do you wish for my downfall before I've even risen to the throne? You expect me to be a tyrant, despised by the people I am meant to save? To lead?"

"Do you think I, a god, care what thoughts others conjure up in their silly little minds? I am to act on your behalf, get my hands dirty in lieu of you. No matter how morbid your desires may be."

Stepping closer, you lift his chin with the tip of a dull sword intended to be ornamental. But it may be even deadlier than the one hung at his side, metaphorically sharpened and honed by a rebel princess's innate rage. 

His little show of bowing means little with the way he stares straight at you without a shred of respect in those galaxy-filled irises. However, it is the mighty sun god who is taken aback by the hellfire burning in your gaze, hungry and powerful enough to rival his own as you scoff.

"I will show you what kind of queen this land needs, the methods we will follow, and the morals I wish to uphold. You will learn in order to understand them and enforce my will. Not only to help guide the vision I desire but to keep me accountable lest I stray. A critical misstep such as that is when I'll ask you to cut me down. Will you swear to do that for me?"

"… You dare question a god of what he can do? Your tiny, impudent human mind couldn't fathom a sliver of my capability."

"I dare to question what you can't or won't do."

"I told you, there is not a thing beyond my realm of —"

"Leave."

"… Your Highness?"

Painted lips curl in a snarl at the first address of your proper title since his arrival. "Begone, I said! Return when you feel like acting like the god you are, not simply a tool to be harnessed and used at will. Until then, I have no need for you."

Seokmin's jaw drops as you seat yourself back on the throne with a sneer and flick of your wrist for the guard to usher him out.

A challenge. 

He's been abandoned many times. Discarded and tossed to the side once his usefulness has been expended. He's left before betrayal can even be thought of — for no one points a blade at a god's back — but never has he been rejected.

It was only the beginning of how you would become many of his 'firsts' and all of his 'lasts'.

Seokmin is lost deep in the memory even with the feeling of your lips curling in a gentle smile against his — a stark contrast to your initial meeting. A nail grazes his chin, digging lightly into the skin to fully bring the god back to the present. 

You'd be offended by the habitual spacing out if he hadn't admitted to only getting lost in thoughts of you. Something he'd picked up during the routine patrols away. Though you strive to bring the god out of dwelling in the past when you're sitting right in front of him — the present — and deepen the kiss.

Yet he pulls away to tilt his head. "Do you remember what you offered to me?"

"Have I not offered you my all, my king?"

Charcoal lying dormant in the hearth flares back to life, emitting playful sparks when he chuckles. "After I returned to pledge my loyalty to you."

"Ah, even though I had you wait outside the gates for five days."

"Unfathomable for a god to hang around at the whim of a meager human, isn't it?"

"Meager?"

"To me? Yes." 

His warm exhale of amusement feels just like the breeze that fondly brushes your cheeks every morning despite the eternal humidity. It may very well be him because no matter how far away physically from you he is, Seokmin's essence radiates in every sunray that stretches across the grand skies and below.

He is everywhere and everything all the time. But he is here with you tonight once again, kissing the palm you'd placed on his cheek. With mischief flickering like a teasing flame in his eyes, the god brings your hand to his throat, encouraging you to splay your fingers across his Adam's apple.

You free yourself from his light grasp to run them ticklishly up and down the bumps of his vocal cords. The movements of swallowing ripples beneath the light scratch of your nails until he halts you by replacing a veined hand over yours and murmurs, "Squeeze."

"Ah — but I…"

He repeats it again louder when you fail to do as asked, not even daring to move a muscle. Simply staring in almost awe-filled hesitation until he guides you to tentatively do exactly as he states, "You would have done anything to strangle me back then, what has changed?"

"… You know what."

"Tell me," he says it like it's a command, eyes brightening and swirling with an authoritative amber hue though it's all in jest. "Tell me what it is, my queen."

Never one to be deterred, only Seokmin could render you motionless for so long. You do as you're instructed, the gentle pressure applied by your hand around his throat causes auburn eyelashes to flutter. The slight restriction to an airflow that isn't all that necessary for a god's survival has his eyes rolling back before they re-focus on you, half-hidden by hooded eyelids.

"Love," you murmur. For it is the answer to everything, is it not?

"Love," is echoed with a resounding voice that doesn't fully come from the tongue of the man beneath you, but bellows out from an otherworldly essence that surrounds the entire world and beyond. And at the same time, he speaks it so fondly because ultimately, he's addressing it as a title for you.

The god of the sun, as immortal as he might be, has died before. Mortal vessels manage to persevere for a fixed number of years and a feeble human body can only endure so much wear and tear. Yet Seokmin's soul still shines steadily onwards despite the memory of death over and over again lingering… and he unsurprisingly realizes that he wouldn't mind dying like this — by your hand. 

Was that love? 

But the amount of power, energy, and time, along with the unpredictable wiles of the creator would never guarantee him returning to you. Preservation of this human shell was of the utmost importance, the first time he's ever handled a vessel with care before.

Perhaps that was love.

Rather than be swept up in unpleasantries, he entertains the amusing thought of how much fragility you exercise with him. Having already released your grip far too quickly and instead, fiddle with the untied laces on his loose shirt.

"Love," he repeats, this time as a call in a raspy drawl of his own voice. 

"Hm. Or maybe it was… pity."

An eyebrow raises and the corners of Seokmin's mouth twitch upward. "Only my queen would dare to pity a god."

"It was for what you were. And who you weren't. I despise those uppity, repetitive displays of unwavering loyalty that either party can easily discard."

"Like the former king's imperial court."

"Yes." 

Your angered hiss is exactly the same as the first time you informed him of your plans to take down your father and his cult. The disgust and rage have barely ebbed even after all the progress made for a better future and as many years that have passed. 

Seokmin scans your expressions. He's always admired your spitfire that could rival his own flames. But in times when it burns long enough to possibly exhaust or hurt you, he worries. You're strong — he knows that — so many times he simply becomes the safe space where you can seethe aloud without interruption. 

"Would you rather grow dull and be poisoned because someone is not even worth keeping an eye on or the thrill of unpredictability? A constant sword dance that keeps each other on their toes, never deviating gazes from one another."

He smirks. "That sounds familiar."

You think back to earlier days with him. A stubborn royal and an even more stubborn deity. When did the challenging, pointed glares at one another change to simmering looks of desire?

Instead of your swords tangling together in an angry clash over a small matter, it was your tongues after a heated sparring session. How condescension switched to respect to something more passionate… more primal… more intimate.

"Perhaps so. But look at you now — look at how you shine."

His skin indeed glows a bit brighter as he melts further into the soft touch of your palm returning to his cheek. Thumb tracing constellations between the pair of moles on his cheek while your other finger follows the nearly invisible scar below his eye.

"Little blemishes," he had once told you, "even the body of a god bears its flaws after fighting on a battlefield."

You thought they only made him all the more perfect.

"And look at how I've fallen."

As if to demonstrate his murmured words, Seokmin moves at the speed of light — his normal pace — to lie on his back, umber strands of hair spread out like flames of fire against the grandiose bed's silken sheets.

Somehow, he'd positioned you on top of him. Much accustomed to the tiny displays of omnipotence here and there, you remain unbothered. Affectionately, you brush back his bangs. Fiery wisps of hair that seemingly move on their own accord with the amount of power that ripples through their thin fibers.

He might just be the most powerful among his fellow deities and you could wield all of that as your own because he sits obediently in the palm of your hand. Lays dociley among your silken sheets. What he's trying to prove to you — the hold you have over him — immediately enthralled under your spell as you play with his locks and softly whisper, "You're Seokmin. My Seokmin."

Despite your bare chest quite literally in his face, the god waits. Fully clothed in soft linens where he can feel every tempting pulse thundering in your precious mortal body on top of his. 

And still, he waits. 

His hands don't even reach out as you unlace his shirt. Though he has wrecked and ruined your body in a thrillingly sensual, blistering, and passionate heat of love-making before, tonight he gives himself over to you. Vulnerable and all yours for the taking, watching with faint amusement as you impatiently urge him to shed the rest of his garments.

"My queen."

"My king."

"There is no rush. We have all of eternity."

"Do we?" you breathe out and look him in the eyes as your fingers dance along his inner thigh. "Or is it only you, divine ruler of the everlasting dawn and never-ending night?"

"My graceful moon," Seokmin sighs and distracts you from grasping his weeping shaft, urging you to straddle his legs. You follow his will despite the object of your desires lying neglected between your bodies, coating your stomach in the molten saltiness that drips from it.

"My stars, my sky, my galaxy, my universe." Each title of affection is seared into your skin with a burning kiss to brand your body. Your cheek, your ear, your neck, your shoulder, and your hand. "Without you in it, the world ceases to exist."

"My sun, my warrior, my knight, my shield, and my sword." You repeat a version of your own display of worship and what he means to you — mimicking the same actions across his lithe body. "My love, it would do you good to live in the present with me. Must you think of a dire future so soon?"

"Each inhale of life thus returns an exhale of death. I dread every moment that brings me closer to your end."

"Such morbid thoughts you carry, my darling. Where is the fearless god that took a poisoned arrow to the heart and pulled it out without so much as a flinch?" 

"You think me weak when I'd take the blow of any weapon as long as it does not harm you."

The irony when you'd both been struck by invisible, non-lethal darts fired from the god of love's feathered bow. But the terrifying memory of Seokmin taking the assassination attempt in your place causes a rare, but true, fear twisting in your gut. The flash of life before your eyes changed the trajectory of your tactics and your relationship with the god. And as always he reassures you with what he knows to be the truth — for the most part.

"Nothing can hurt me as long as you're alright." 

"Then make me your goddess in return so that I will be invincible enough to protect you from harm's wrath too." 

"But that… you know I can't," he whimpers, "no matter how much I long to." 

A tear trickles down his cheek, crystallizing when it falls. Like many before and well after, all bodily fluids of the god will be found transformed as various tiny diamonds and gems. Tangled within the bedsheets the following morning as they always are and stored away in the queen's treasury.

Seokmin cries, not just at his frustrations, but at how you gingerly hold his hot and hardened length. Heavy in your palm that rubs and strokes it lovingly before sinking down with practiced ease, having already stretched yourself out earlier while waiting. Undulating your hips in slow, controlled circles that make him dizzy with desire. Your words pierce his chest, paining him like no sword that sliced him open could ever compare.

"If fate will not let it happen, then bury me in the ground so I can thrive beneath your warm rays that whisper sweet nothings. Let me smile up at you after winter passes while I bloom brilliantly through spring and long into the heated days of summer. Weave my soul among the stars so I may greet you in the morning and kiss you goodnight every evening. Scatter my ashes into the windy gusts of the north and down the silver rivers flowing south so I may laugh and dance in the skies alongside your sunbeams."

He sobs at the poignant emotional tug of your words, every poetry waxed by your breathy voice punctuated by a tantalizing undulation of your hips. You reassuringly clench around him, foreheads and bodies pressed together, hands clasped tightly in each other's grasp.

The god's chest heaves and the mountains on the eastern border shift to the left. Sometimes the air cools when this occurs but tonight, it shimmers and glistens as if straining against his commands. A hot wave that threatens to distort the very seam of reality itself. 

"I will always be yours," you kiss the corner of his trembling lips, "and you mine, my darling god."

"My sweet goddess, my everything… my love."

Seokmin's hips buck up anxiously and you let him lead the pace. Wild thrusts take over as he chases that high, wanting and needing to take you over that peak with him. Your body lays prone against him, along for the jostling ride as the god seeks his own pleasure through and with you. Praises and worship fall from his lips, never failing to be in awe of how your cunt molds and works his cock like a blacksmith shapes an iron rod yet he can bully it as he wants to fit him. Only him. 

You were made for the god of the sun.

Golden ichor thrums through his veins, lighting his skin in flashes like the sparks of embers. He's beautiful. Otherworldly. Your lips capture each glowing pulse of godliness that erupts beneath his flesh with a tender peck. He's all yours.

And he was made for you.

When Seokmin plunges into your welcoming warmth that is his alone to claim before he finally succumbs, it's blinding. On the other side of the earth, the sun shines a little brighter. A harsh glint that already emits a sweltering heat from its fiery nature flares even hotter in the blue sky. A blessed priestess looks up in contemplation, waving away the worried maidens who tend to her every need.

You feel his large hands — one presses in a bruising hold between your shoulders, the other on your lower back. Keeping you flush against him, holding your body to his while you welcome inside the scorching spurts of his seed within your womb that feel like lava. Your walls flutter around him and he basks in the feeling of them pulsating as you jerk your hips 

"Come," he begs out. It's loud and resounding. More of an instinctual command if anything and your body almost obeys unwittingly, unaware of his intent before he lifts you up with inhuman strength and clarifies, "Up here," and sits you on your rightful throne — his face, "where you deserve, the queen of queens. My queen. My love. My goddess."

He laps at you like a dehydrated dog. Both cleaning you up and creating an even bigger mess. Your thighs squeeze tightly around the sides of Seokmin's head, one hand tugging harshly at his hair and the other mercilessly wrinkling the silk bed sheets. His moans are sweet songs of praise but muffled as he sucks his release out of your cunt only to push it back inside with his tongue. The addition of globs of spit accompanying the still-hot, smeared mess causes your own sounds to grow much louder, writhing on top of him from the sloppy sensations.

Back and forth he repeats this a couple of times, the firm point of his nose stimulating your sore clit in his efforts. And finally, you come undone — spasming on top of Seokmin's chin and suffocating him just like he likes. Breathing and drowning in your essence, the very elixir of life.

"I shall make you mine," he whispers later, dutifully laying your deliciously aching but clean body onto freshened sheets. Your lover is ever so attentive, rarely nearly needing the same amount of aftercare he showers upon you.

For he is a god from the heavens to bestow blessings upon his desired mortal.

"I am already yours."

"But for all of eternity, it shall be so."

Satiated and content, you reach for him. He lovingly takes your hand and presses a kiss to the tip of each of your fingers. "How?"

"The Mother. She's the closest thing we have to the Creator and might be older than the universe itself. There's nothing she doesn't know so I'm sure she'll have the answers I seek."

"Must you leave so soon?"

Seokmin smiles as he pulls the sheets over your shoulders. "The sun never fails to rise, my dear. I will be back before you know it bringing with me tidings of great news."

"I'll be waiting."

Your shared kiss is soft and gentle. Sweet and full of sentiment. Indeed, you always wait for him and the sun god leaves with a full heart of hope. Little does he know, and little do you suspect, the true one lying in wait was the shadowed figure holding a poisoned dagger beneath their cloak.

And so, with the death of a queen so loved by the god of the sun… the prophecy begins.

onlyseokmins: September 2024 ©

Heartbreak Hotel | svt series

“Every single day is dreadfully boring when working at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. That is until an enigmatic guest arrives, seeking not a room nor directions, but to hear stories about your past relationships.”

Genre: anthology, romance, smut Status: on-going Pairing: SEVENTEEN Hip-hop Unit x Reader Warnings: mature themes Notes: 4 parts. Listening to Heartbreak Hotel by Tiffany Young. This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.

1. Prologue 2k words.

2. Backburner (Kim Mingyu)

There is a rule of thumb for casual relationships: do not fall in love with the other. Yet with Mingyu, it felt easier to watch the world burn than to stop yourself from falling for him.

3. Take a Chance with Me (Jeon Wonwoo)

You could not believe that no one ever told you how frustrating (and beautiful) it was to be hopelessly captivated by a boy who thinks love is overrated.

Did You Like Her in the Morning? (Chwe Vernon)

How do you move on from the man you thought you'd marry? You can't. As you navigate the bittersweet memories of your shared dreams, you are forced to grapple with the harsh reality that Vernon has found someone new.

Plot Twist (Choi Seungcheol)

A chance encounter blossoms into a whirlwind connection when you become enchanted by the enigmatic stranger—Choi Seungcheol. As the evening unfolds, one question lingers: could he be the unexpected plot twist that changes your story forever?

---

𝔥𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤 - 𝔥𝔧𝔰 | 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦

pairing: hong jisoo x female!reader genre: historical au, fluff, angst, smut (later routes), supernatural members: lee jihoon, choi seungcheol, wen junhui, kwon soonyoung, jeon wonwoo, lee seokmin, kim mingyu, boo seungkwan, lee chan, xu minghao, lee chan, choi hansol warnings: crass humor and language, blood, violence, mentions of suicide, alcohol, minor character death, 660's sexism, crossdressing, medical procedures, political upset, historical inaccuracies for the sake of plot progression word count: 24k

taglist: @reiofsuns2001, @hipsdofangirl, @lovrehani

DISCLAIMER: as some parts of the hwarang series appear in every route, some scenes will appear the same with major to minor differences within the text.

𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔩𝔬𝔤𝔲𝔢 || 𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦

𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 1𝔰𝔱, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The cold, gray sky of winter greets you with its hollow breath as you swing the door to your room open, any heat that has accumulated overnight swiftly dissipating as swaths of blustery air invade the space. From the looks of it, thick, gray clouds have begun to accumulate over the city outside the walls of the Hwarang’s compound, forecasting at least a light blanket of snow in the coming hours. You’d have to make sure that the fires from the kitchen aren’t low so that the ondol keeps warm under the building’s floors. 

Before you move to exit the room, you reach to grab a jacket from your handful of things, sighing as you catch sight of a piece of paper hidden under your coat. It’s the letter that had brought you here in the first place. Nearly two weeks have passed since your arrival at the Hwarang’s headquarters, the same frigidity that had met you on your first meeting is still ingrained into them, the same distrust, no doubt, but it isn’t as if you can leave. 

 A frown as you look down at your clothes after shrugging the jacket onto your shoulders. Instead of your father’s clothes that you’d arrived in, they’d given you robes of their own. Not the blues of their commanders or warriors, but the deep green of their lesser ranks; of the pageboys, cooks, and less desirable positions within their numbers. They were and are foreign to you, you’d much rather wear the clothes that feel more familiar, even if they are men’s. But you aren’t meant to raise suspicion, just keep your head low until they find out more information of your father’s whereabouts. A female hiding out in the Hwarang’s headquarters would raise suspicion, start rumors, and with how much they hold themselves to a gold standard, it would be irreparable to their reputation. 

Jihoon, the Hwarang’s commander, had given you strict instructions to keep up the facade as a male. Saying that, while it would be harmful to their reputation if the word got out, it would also be a beacon for those looking for your father, or perhaps even you. Only those that you’d met on the first day, as well as a handful of others within their leadership, know of your true identity.

As you move your hands away from the hem of your jacket, your fingers brush against the blade that Jihoon had given back to you the day you’d arrived. It’d been somewhat ceremonial in your household, not a thing of use as there was no need for it. Your father had claimed it to be an heirloom kept in the family since the birth of Silla as a kingdom. You aren’t sure of the validity of that statement though, as the metal isn’t tinged with rust, it looks newly forged at times.

Regardless of the validity of the blade, your father made you take several lessons with your town’s local head guard, who’d only taught a girl because her father was a well-known physician. Also, because your father could treat any injury you sustained while practicing, which wasn’t ever needed as any scrapes or scratches you obtained healed fairly quickly. When you were little you didn’t think much of it. Yet as you grew older you realized that you healed faster than most. Your father said it must’ve been a gift from the Heavens but urged you not to tell anyone about it. And you hadn’t, fearing that those around you would treat you like a witch or a monster if they were to find out.

Swordplay was never something you took much interest in, seeing that you’d probably never put the techniques you’d learned to use. Besides, you aren’t a bloodthirsty fiend looking for a chance to use it anyway, you’d rather help people than hurt them. 

You’re pulled from your thoughts for a brief moment as a wang-do, one of the common Hwarang soldiers, passes by your room. They lock eyes with you for a moment, a scowl sneering onto their lips before they break their gaze and continue to stride past. Private rooms were only given to personnel of a higher rank within the Hwarang, and seeing how you are a newcomer, you can somewhat understand the resentment some of them have with your staying not in the typical quarters of those of your rank. 

With more guilt than not as you accept the hospitality of the Hwarang, you try to help out as much as you can, despite the wishes of the commander. To the average wang-do, it probably seems as if you’re receiving special treatment from the captains. Despite the actuality of them keeping watch over you to make sure you wouldn’t spew their secrets; it would be confusing, aggravating even, from an outsider’s perspective. But, even if you were allowed free reign of the headquarters, it’s not as if you could speak to any of them, most were nobles from families of high wealth. And your father isn’t poor by any means, but the wealth disparity between the nobles of the capital and nobles of the countryside is nothing to scoff at. 

So, you remain alone, for the time being, finding that the best way to not draw attention to yourself is to become practically invisible. Maybe if Jihoon allowed you to go out and search for your father you would find yourself more useful, but he’d just left for Hanseong a few days prior. Seeing as the man in charge of your stay here isn’t available, maybe your best bet would be to stay in your room until something of note happened, despite how aggravatingly boring it is. 

The room is practically empty, only a bed, a small chest of drawers and a writing desk to keep you company. It reminds you of when your father would leave for his patient visits, disappearing for days at a time and leaving you alone at home. Although it isn’t the same, those visits had the promise of return. Waiting for someone you knew would come back and waiting for the unknown are vastly different things.

As your reflections manifest into exasperated sighs, you barely notice the sound of approaching footsteps heading towards your room. 

“There you are!” Youngmin, the head of the Hwarang, exclaims once he catches sight of you. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you; I didn’t think you’d be in here!” He beams at you for a moment before stepping into the room with a tray in his hands. 

“Oh, I’m… sorry?” you apologize as he sets down the tray onto the writing desk nestled into the corner of the room. 

“Ah… wait… This is your room?” He questions as he straightens up, looking around at the interior for a moment. 

“It is,” you nod, wondering what he’s thinking about. 

“Then I just barged into a woman’s room without even announcing myself!” He looks flustered, his cheeks turning a tinge pink as he realizes his mistake and takes a few steps out of the room.

“It’s alright,” you try to assure him, “After all, it’s not like there’s anything here that I wouldn’t want you to see.”

“Hmm,” he sighs, trying to compose himself, “I thought since we’d assigned you to be Jihoon’s page your room would be next to his…” It seems as if Jihoon had neglected to inform Youngmin that you hadn’t actually been made a page. That isn’t in the least bit surprising with how coldly the commander had been treating you. 

“I’m not fully equipped to entertain guests, but you’re welcome to come in if you’d like,” you offer, motioning for him to come back inside the room.

“You don’t need to worry,” he waves his hand as if to brush off the thought, “And, if I may, I’ll take you up on your offer.” Youngmin then steps back into the room, and as if he notices your hesitant demeanor, he speaks up once more, “And please don’t feel nervous around me, as long as you’re here you’re a guest of the Hwarang.”

You offer him a small smile before looking down to the tray he’d carried in. A look of shock comes over your face as you realize what he’d brought, “This is—!”

Youngmin chuckles lightly, “I take it you’re a fan of sweets then? Jihoon’s adoptive mother likes to send them to us every once in a while, and hardly anyone touches them.” Several assorted hangwa lay on the dish, their colors vibrant against the gray gloom of the light shining in from outside, next to a steaming cup of tea. “Go ahead and have some, if you’d like.” 

“Thank you very much,” you nod and make your way over to gingerly pick up one of the confections. You look at the pink treat for a moment before taking a bite out of it, savoring the sweetness of it before turning back to Youngmin, “It’s delicious.” Snacks like this were only limited to holidays or festivals back home, it’s shocking to hear that Jihoon’s mother had sent such a thing on a whim. 

“I’m glad you like them,” he smiles. Something about Youngmin’s presence holds an aura of warmth, that makes you feel more relaxed than you had been with any other member of the Hwarang since your arrival. “Ah, I’ve also heard you haven’t been able to go outside?”

A nod, “That’s right. But if that’s what’s needed for me to stay here, I wouldn’t want to cause any unnecessary trouble by going out.”

He looks almost sympathetic as he parts his lips once more, “I see… I’m glad you understand. I know that Jihoon can seem a little intimidating at first but he’s a truly caring man.”

To see the man who’d kept you in relative solitude for a few weeks as a caring person didn’t seem fully right… But Youngmin knows him much better than you do.

“He may be a little strict with you, but only because he’s trying to do what’s in your best interest.” Youngmin sighs, a telling sign that maybe he hadn’t agreed with everything Jihoon had done before. “I’ll speak to him once he gets back, I know this must be hellish for you, but I can only ask you to hang in for a bit longer.”

“Alright,” you nod, “Thank you.” Even if Youngmin’s visit hadn’t done much to change your living arrangement, it had lightened your mood ever so slightly. 

After Youngmin had departed and you’d been left to sulk in your room for a while, you notice that the sun was slowly sinking into the sky. The clouds of earlier in the day had parted to let the golden light shine onto the headquarters as the sun made its descent into the horizon. It feels as if time itself has stopped, the sun hanging in the same place for an unimaginably long time.

All this time in solitude is doing a number on both your mental and emotional state. Any hope of getting out of your isolation seems to slip with each passing moment you spend alone. You had come to the capital to find your father, not get swept up into a world where your life lay on the line should you slip up and say something you shouldn’t.

Even if they were showing you more hospitality than you could’ve asked for, you know that you can’t trust the Hwarang completely. 

“They can’t all be that bad… right?” you mutter to yourself as you sit at the small drawing table, flipping through the letters you’d brought with you.

“Has anyone ever called you ‘gullible’, before?” A voice behind you causing you to jump and turn to see who’d spoken. 

Your gaze hardens as you see Boo Seungkwan standing in your doorway, arms crossed with a small frown painted on his lips. “What are you doing here?” Asking as you push yourself to your feet, brushing off your pant legs before facing him fully. 

“You didn’t notice me? It’s my turn to keep watch over you,” he sighs, “You talk to yourself a lot, don’t you?”

Had you really been thinking aloud earlier? You bite your lip and try to mentally remind yourself to never do that again as you’d never know who could be listening in on you here. Before you can retort, Hansol steps in from the hallway.

“I think that’s enough picking on her, Seungkwan.” He frowns at the other.

“Did you hear me too?” You question, somewhat embarrassed about how this was playing out. 

“I only just arrived,” he shakes his head in the negative. “I came to tell you that dinner is ready but,” Hansol’s eyes narrow ever so slightly at you, noticing how incrementally flustered you’re getting, “have I interrupted something?”

“Nothing at all!” You insist, trying to calm yourself.

“I was going to let the two of you continue to speak, but if I had left you two alone, I knew that he’d probably try and get you out of sorts again,” Hansol notes somewhat stoically, probably thinking of the times where he’d been in the exact same situation. His shoulders shrug before the sound of more approaching footsteps reaches you. 

Soonyoung rushes into the room with loud, heavy stomps. His eyes are somewhat frantic, his voice somewhat annoyed as he speaks, “Hey! It’s dinnertime and I’m absolutely starving.” 

“Sorry about that, I’ll be there soon,” Hansol apologizes to the younger.

Soonyoung then looks to you, “You too, hurry up or Junhui’s gonna eat all of the food again.”

“Sorry Captain Kwon, I’ll be there as soon as I can.” You say as he begins to turn on his heels to leave before stopping himself.

His lips purse together before he looks back at you, “Look… can you drop the ‘Captain Kwon’ thing? Just call me Soonyoung, everyone else here does.”

“Are you sure about that?” You question with an inquisitive tilt of your head.

“Why not? We’re practically the same age, aren’t we? And we don’t need honorifics either, I’m not one of those uptight nobles.” He frowns slightly.

“Alright then… Soonyoung.” 

“That’s more like it,” he grins, “Now let’s go.”

The walk to the dining area is more familiar than any other route you’d taken thus far during your stay with the Hwarang. Meals are the only time of day that you really are able to leave your room and have company, even if that company was the other captains of the Hwarang.

“You’re lateee,” a whine from Wen Junhui as he sits in front of his meal, the lids still atop the dishes so as to not let the steam out. “Who’s responsible for this? My stomach’s crying and I think my soup’s already gone cold,” he frowns as everyone finishes filing into the hall. 

“You mean ‘growling’,” Soonyoung snickers as he moves to take his seat next to Junhui, you move to sit on the other side of Junhui, next to Mingyu. “Sometimes it’s really easy to tell that you’re not from here.”

“That doesn’t even matter, you should all apologize to my stomach,” the taller’s hands fly to his abdomen as the remaining captains take their seats, “it’s been desperate for food since this morning’s practice routines.”

A small ‘tch’ from Mingyu as he rolls his eyes at the two, “A commoner correcting a noble, I never thought I’d see the day.” There’s a tinge of sarcasm to his voice as he speaks, the tone disappearing as he pipes up once more, “Alright, now that everyone’s here we can eat.”

There’s general chatter amongst the captains as they start to uncover their dishes and begin to dig into their meals. You sit and eat in relative silence until Junhui’s voice begins to raise on your right.

“There’s hardly enough here to feed a kid, let alone a guy like me,” you turn your head and watch his gaze trail down to Soonyoung’s tray to his right, “I guess I’ll have to take yours…” His now empty hands make a grab for the bowl of rice situated atop Soonyoung’s tray. “Survival of the—”

“Survival of the fittest my ass, Junhui,” the other retorts, sticking out his elbow and hitting the other square in the chest. There’s a hollow thud reverberating around Wen’s ribcage, it sounds painful, but he doesn’t look phased at all. But it did stop him from trying to snatch Soonyoung’s meal. “Why’re you always stealing my food?”

Junhui laughs, you hear Mingyu also let out a small chuckle to your left. “It’s because of the size difference, Soonyoung. I’ve got a bigger body; therefore I need more food.” 

“No way, I’ve gotta eat too!” Soonyoung protests, his elbow still locked in place trying to hold the other back. 

“You’d think they’d be more civil around a woman,” Mingyu, at the tailend of his laughter, notes about the two, “but they’re always like this.” 

“I think I’ve gotten used to it by now,” you respond, setting down the cup of tea you’d been drinking before looking at Hansol, who’s gaze seems to have drifted across the room to the bickering pair.

“How we’ve managed so long without them killing one another is beyond me,” he says before eating a spoonful of the soup in front of him. “Are you not eating?” Hansol questions Seungkwan, who sits next to him. The latter sits reclined back in his seat, seemingly watching the entertainment in front of him instead of touching his food.

“I’m alright. If I eat too much in one sitting I get slow.” He nods, reaching for his cup.

“What do you mean ‘slow’?” Junhui pokes, gaze shifting from Soonyoung to Seungkwan for a moment and then down to the food on the older’s plates. “But if you’re not going to eat…”

“Go for it,” Seungkwan scoots the tray forward with his elbow, passing it over to Junhui as his hand is still occupied with his cup. “As long as I’ve got makgeolli, I’m alright.” 

“Sounds like I’m going with makgeolli too,” Mingyu sighs and passes a few plates from his tray onto yours after noticing that most of your food was already eaten.  

“You don’t have to—” you begin to protest before Seungkwan speaks up again.  

“Don’t worry about eating too much or being a freeloader,” he says, a weird bubbling of guilt arising in your stomach. 

“I understand but I can’t help but feel a little bad…” You state as you look down to the newly acquired plates in front of you.  

“If you’re going to let that get to you, you’re never going to get anything you want,” Hansol says pointedly, continuing to eat the mix of soup in front of him.  

“A- alright,” you nod, picking up your utensils again and beginning to pick at the newfound food on your tray. Because you never had much contact with others during the daytime, it makes having dinner with the captains something of an entertaining and frightening experience every night. But it’s fun. A small smile curls onto your lips at the thought of some normalcy for a moment when you hear Mingyu speak again.

“You know we’re not going to hurt you, right?” He’d seen your smile, probably seeing it as you begin to relax, and he seeks to soothe your anxieties about them even more so. His own lips have a soft smile of their own, an honesty brimming with it. Maybe they’d all been trying to put you at ease with their antics.  

It was troublesome to navigate, you have conflicted feelings about staying with them and taking up their time and resources, but it isn’t as if you have much of a choice. They seemed to realize that too and instead of scorning you for it, were trying to make the best of it.  

But before you could ponder on the notion for much longer, Song Eunseok enters the room.  

“Captains?” He asks somewhat quietly, but the noise of his arrival had turned all heads towards him. “Do you have a moment?” Voice soft as usual, his eyes teem with a quiet anxiety that you hadn’t ever seen during your brief acquaintance with him. The gaiety that had once erupted in the room comes to a fizz as he begins to speak once more, “I’ve just gotten a letter from Sabi, Seungcheol’s been gravely injured during a skirmish.” 

Your brows raise as Seungkwan shouts out, “What the hell happened?!”  

“A group of Baekje revivalists were laying siege to the chancellor’s home, Seungcheol and Jihoon arrived in time to subdue them, however, Seungcheol was injured at some point during the fight.” 

“Is he going to be alright?” You ask, your hands clenching together, nails digging into the skin.  

“According to Jihoon's letter he is gravely hurt, but the wound is on his left arm.” Eunseok’s teeth gnaw at the insides of his cheek for a moment, “It will be hard for him to draw an arrow or wield a blade but it’s almost certain that he will survive this.”   

“That’s good,” a sigh of relief leaving you, but the air lies tense from the other captains as they await more answers regarding their comrade’s status.  

“Seungcheol should be returning in a few days,” Eunseok nods, a solemn tone to his voice, “I’ll go and talk with Kwak some more regarding the situation, if anything else arises I’ll let you know.” He was already halfway out the door by the time he finished speaking, talking over his shoulder in a bated anxiety to rival that of the rest of the room.  

“An injury so bad he can’t hold a bow or sword?” Hansol almost thinks aloud, “He may have severed an artery. He may never carry a blade again if that’s true…” You now begin to understand the severity of the situation, why the air grew heavy and the voices grew low. “If he were to fight one handed against an opponent of similar skill he would almost certainly lose.”  

“... If push comes to shove he’ll have to take it. Seungcheol’s not just going to give up like that,” Seungkwan frowns, the cup in his hand settling down onto the table in front of him with a small clink before his hands fall into his lap.  

“Don’t say that, Boo,” Junhui’s face mirrors an equal grimace to that of the elder’s. “It’ll look bad if captains start joining the Furies.”  

“... Who?” You question, trying to follow their conversation as best you could but finding yourself lost as they begin to speak of things unknown to you. “The Furies?” 

“Furies,” Soonyoung begins, “They come from something you drink where any injury can be cur—” 

“Soonyoung!” Before you know it, Mingyu is on his feet and striding around you to the captain. The elder captain’s hand reaches down and pulls up the younger by the front of his robes.  

“Ah—” Soonyoung’s voice catches in his throat, his eyes go wide as if he’s realized he’d said something that he shouldn’t have. 

“You’re overreacting, Kim.” Junhui stands, trying to pry Mingyu’s irontight grasp away from Soonyoung. “It’s my fault anyway, I said something first.” When Mingyu relinquishes Soonyoung’s green robes from his grip, Junhui shoots the younger a sympathetic look, “Sorry.” 

“I should’ve watched myself,” Soonyoung sighs, his hands moving to straighten his now wrinkled garment.  

Junhui’s gaze then turns to you, his tone becoming sterner, “Everything you just heard is something you should never repeat. I know you’re probably curious, but we can’t say anything else about it, so don’t ask.” The cold weight hiding behind his eyes is enough to make you feel uneasy about what you’d just heard. You’re not even sure what they were talking about, but it seems important enough to stay a secret.  

“Those Furies that Soonyoung was talking about are pitiful men,” Seungkwan states as he pushes himself to his feet. His voice held none of the snideness that it normally had, taking on a flatter and emotionless tone. A sate sort of melancholy coming over him, it’s clear he has something on his mind.  

“It’s nothing you have to worry about,” Junhui says to you as he breaks the silence, “So don’t try and get worked up about it.” 

Seeing as you were only a guest of the Hwarang and not an actual member among their ranks, you can understand their secrets. But it doesn’t make you any less curious.  

“Try your best to forget about it,” Hansol warns, not so much to you but to your circumstance, “The more involved you become with our affairs will only put you in more danger.” 

The wall built up between you and the captains was almost tangible at this point, not an easy thing to scale or break through. 

Dinner ended in relative silence, you excused yourself to your room and hurried back to collect your thoughts. You exhale a large sigh as you enter, your mind hopping from the fate of the Hwarang’s colonel to what the Furies were. It reminds you of the rakshasa from the Buddhist texts your father had made you read as a young girl. The phrases ‘something you drink’ and ‘becoming a Fury’ bounce around your skull before you stop yourself. Hansol had asked you to forget, but it feels as if him saying that only makes you want to remember. 

For whatever reason, the Hwarang captains were keeping hush about whatever ordeal was occurring. Was it to protect you? Regardless, sticking your nose into their business would only be detrimental to your stay with them. 

With that in mind you try to clear your head as best you can before slipping into bed and trying to drift off to sleep.  

𝔐𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥 3𝔯𝔡, 661 – 𝔖𝔥𝔬𝔰𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔗𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔩𝔢, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s been a little over two months since you’d joined the Hwarang at the headquarters in Seorabeol. Jihoon and Seungcheol had returned from their expedition to Sabi, but morale among the men was low. For a while after their return, due to Seungcheol’s injury, a few operations within the organization became hectic due to his absence. The wounds he’d acquired were grim, draining most of the goodness in his nature before your very eyes. He’d spend days locked away in his room, the silence deafening to those who would venture in and try to speak to him.  

On the rare occasion that he did leave his room, his temper lay short before he’d barricade himself away in his abode once more. The Hwarang had offered to let him return to his family for recovery’s sake, but he insisted that his duty remain with his compatriots, despite his abysmal attitude.  

Even though you too were holed up away inside of your room, the ways in which the two of you coped with the ordeal were vastly different. Seungcheol was trapped within himself, fallen from whatever pedestal he thought was his to a mere memory of what once was. You, on the other hand, were merely looking for ways to help your hosts.  

In doing so, you now find yourself wandering the halls of the Hwarang’s main building looking for Lee Jihoon, who hopefully has an assignment for you to complete. Much in fashion for the commander, he was nowhere to be seen. You debate on whether it would be impolite to go to his room directly when an unknown soldier walks up to you. 

Their face is unfamiliar to you and they aren’t wearing the blue robes associated with the Hwarang on patrol. There is a chance you’d never seen them before, but by the way they are looking at you, you can surmise that that isn’t the case.  

“You… wouldn’t have happened to have seen Commander Lee… would you?” You ask as they approach, their gait long and almost prideful.  

“And who are you?” They question, looking you over with scathing eyes as if to detect your character, “Mind telling me what you’re doing here?” 

“Oh well… it’s a long story,” you mumble out, noticing their gaze sharpening on you.  

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Their voice raises, the sternness only growing, “Answer me!” 

Fumbling out your words, you introduce yourself quickly.  

“Hmm,” he ponders, gaze softening ever so slightly, “I heard that the Commander recently acquired an apprentice warrior as a new page, it must be you.”  

“I am,” you respond with faux cocksureness, not realizing that the men had referred to you as an apprentice warrior under the Hwarang.  

“Why don’t you enlighten me on how you came to know the Chief and Commander?” The man’s scrutinizing gaze continues as you straighten your posture, shifting your weight from foot to foot. “I heard you’re from Toehwa-hyeon, but how were you able to squeeze your way in here?” 

“I didn’t ‘squeeze my way in here’,” you retort, not liking how this man was addressing you. 

“Judging by how defensive you’re being, it sounds as if I’ve gotten it right.” He almost scoffs at you in disbelief, “This isn’t some place for a common boy without any worth in his duties or on the battlefield to walk in without earning it. I’ll ask you one last time: how did you come to know the Chief and Commander?”  

You stay silent, unsure of how to address him or what answer would be the right one. Yet, before you can begin to formulate a response, he steps forward and grabs the sleeve of your robes, “I, Suh Kangjoon, am asking you a question.” With the way he states his own name, it’s as if he’s trying to signal himself as someone of importance, but you’d never heard the other captains speak of him before. “What makes you think you can ignore me?” Rather than have a calm air as he asked, his tone had almost shifted to that of a petulant child.  

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” A voice barks off to the side, coming from one of the hall’s entranceways. Both Kangjoon and you turn to see Jihoon standing in the doorway, an almost scowl painting his lips as he watches the scene before him. Once Kangjoon had realized it was him, his hand falls away from clutching at your robes and returns to his side.  

“Very well, Commander,” he wets his lips as Jihoon approaches before clearing his throat and speaking once again. “I’m here on business with Gukseon Kwak.” 

“Is that right?” Jihoon’s voice is tipped with a poisonous edge, as if he didn’t fully trust the character in front of you. “He failed to mention that to me.” 

“He wrote to me with special orders to aid him while Colonel Choi is out of commission,” he begins, “I have the letter if you’d like to read it.” 

“That’s quite alright,” Jihoon waves him off, “but I think it’d be in your interest to know that Kwak is out on training runs with Kwon’s squadron today.” 

“Then I suppose I’ll have to come back at a later date,” the air of faux civility between the two was nearly palpable, Jihoon doing nothing to hide his distaste whereas Kangjoon only looked at him snidely. The newcomer begins to turn on his heels, heading for the exit before his pace slows and leaves the two of you with a few words, “Is it true that you’ve welcomed him as your page, Commander?” 

“Yes,” Jihoon nods, glancing at you for a moment before returning to look at the other, “but it’s no concern to you.” 

A flash of an uncaring smile, “Forgive me, then. I’ll try not to ask more as it seems to be out of my jurisdiction.” Another step before he stills, “I do, however, question your predisposition toward keeping those from higher ranks close to you,” his eyes widen in faux surprise, “Ah, it seems I’ve forgotten myself, please excuse me.”  

Once the stranger has exited the building, only then do you feel a sigh of relief overcome you. But before you have the chance to dwell on it for too long, Jihoon speaks up. 

“You shouldn’t be walking around the headquarters without my permission, you know.” 

“I understand, Commander, I didn’t mean to cause any trouble,” you begin to apologize. 

“Your presence here isn’t known by the other factions of the Hwarang, only those staying here at Shoshin,” He explains, “be mindful of anyone that isn’t a Hwarang from this sect, understood?” 

“Understood,” you nod. “But can I ask who that man was?” 

“That man is a captain of the Hanseong Hwarang. His name is Suh Kangjoon.” Jihoon looks as if he’s wracking his brain for an adequate description of the man, “His archery and swordsmanship are decent, but he’s well read and has a knack for military tactics.” His voice lowers a bit for his next statement. “He’s cunning, so be careful.” 

“Okay.” 

“Regardless of that,” his voice back to a decent volume as his gaze hardens at you, “if you’re not attending to someone then I fully expect you to stay put in your room.” With that, you suppose, he meant to dismiss you back to your quarters as any strict commander should and would have done. 

A wordless nod, understanding that asking any more of him would cause his mood to sour even more so after his meeting with Suh Kangjoon. Jihoon turns on his heels the same time as you, drifting away towards his room on the opposite end of the compound while you shuffle back to yours. 

𝔍𝔲𝔫𝔢 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 The air thick with humidity sweeping in from the coast, the entirety of the Kingdom of Silla lies in mourning after the death of the posthumously named King Taejong Muyeol. With the lauded last year's effort of him uniting both Silla and Baekje, the former kingdom to the west of Silla, hanging over the heads of every citizen, his death felt like a sharp blow to all. For the first few days of the month, the Hwarang had traveled to Banweolseong, the King’s palace, to pay their respects to the fallen monarch, leaving you alone with only Eunseok as company.   

Once the Hwarang had steadily returned to the compounds, an air of normalcy once again began to hang over the inhabitants and the buildings themselves. Yet, midway through the month, Emperor Gaozong of the Tang dynasty called in aid from Silla to attack the kingdom of Gogoryeo. The kingdom resides to the north, and the Tang emperor wished to pincer it from both sides so that it would fall under either Tang or Silla rule. 

Whereas this may have been the wishes of Taejong Muyeol, the new king, Munmu, found issue in sending out an army so close to the prior monarch’s death. Yet, as an almost tributary state to the Tang, Silla was forced to comply by sending soldiers to the front. No members of the Hwarang were called, as they were to remain in their cities and keep patrol when the officers that normally stood guard could not.  

It’s a cooler day of the beginning of summer, you’d just come back to your room with your laundry when Hansol appears at your door. He stands there for a moment, allowing you to put down the basket of clothes in your hands before speaking, “Commander Lee would like a word with you.” 

A wordless nod and you begin to follow him. Hansol leads you to the main hall, only stopping at the entranceway and gesturing you inside, you step into the room and hear Hansol go in behind you, closing the door after he enters. Looking around, you spot Jihoon, Seungkwan, Mingyu, Junhui and Soonyoung standing around the hall. It seems as if only the captains and you had been summoned for this meeting.  

“I know you’ve been waiting for this, but the time has come to finally let you out,” Jihoon says once everyone’s settled into a comfortable silence.  

Your lips part and you can barely contain the gasp forming in the back of your throat, “Really?” Unable to contain your excitement, you try to compose yourself before speaking again. “So, there really was someone who saw my father in Hwango-dong?” You question, only hearing rumors of someone who’d seen a man with your father’s profile in one of the city’s districts. 

“We’re not sure if it’s true or not,” Jihoon cedes as he nods his head, “It’s our intention to let you verify for us. Considering that you’d recognize him the best out of everyone here.” 

“So, where is this man who said he saw him?”  

“The initial report outlines Jeolin Inn in Hwango-dong, Hansol’s assigned to do a preliminary check.” Both your and his attention turn to the man Jihoon had named. Did this mean that you were to accompany him to check or were you to wait here until after he’d swept the area? 

“That doesn’t mean that Heo is a guest of the inn though,” Kim chimes in. 

“Yeah,” Junhui agrees, “Being sighted in Hwango-dong could just mean he was walking around Seorabeol.”  

“Exactly,” Jihoon sighs, crossing his arms and looking at Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu, “That’s why I’m asking the three of you to take her out on your rounds to assist her in her search.” 

“All of us?” Soonyoung’s head tilts in confusion, “We normally split up and go our separate ways on our rounds.” 

Rather than entertaining Soonyoung with a response, Jihoon looks back to you. It was a quiet way to say that they were still in charge of looking over you, needing to make sure you wouldn’t try and make a break for it should they take you out in search for your father. 

“We get what you’re trying to say, Jihoon,” Seungkwan notes, “but I don’t like that you’re making us do all of the babysitting. I thought you were planning on patrolling as well?” The teasing lilt to his voice returns, “So, for your benefit, why don’t you show your adorable page the ropes by taking her out with you?” 

“Aren’t you the one who pushed her onto me?” Jihoon scoffs, “I’m not taking any of your shit today, Li. She isn’t my page.” 

“Maybe she is, maybe she isn’t, but a lot of the wang-do are beginning to believe it.” Seungkwan notes, crossing his own arms. “There’s always a grain of truth in every lie, so why don’t you give her a job already?” 

As the two continue their stalemating conversation, Mingyu moves to your side and whispers something to you, “Seorabeol isn’t the safest place right now, as you know, so you don’t have to force yourself to leave. I mean we all know what your dad looks like, so it’s not just your risk alone to bear.” 

  It seems like you could either explore where your father had last been seen, patrol the surrounding area, accompany Jihoon as his page, or stay here, from what Mingyu had suggested.  

“I think I should stay behind today,” after a moment of thinking, you come to the conclusion. There was no assurance that your father is out on the streets of Seorabeol still, and the looming threat of danger still hangs over the city. 

“What?!” Soonyoung frowns, “But what about your father?” 

“I have to understand my place here too, though… We don’t even know if he’s there anymore,” you give him a small smile and nod, “I’m sure more chances will come.” 

“If you say so,” he sounds a bit jilted, “But if you’ve already made up your mind there’s no convincing you…” 

After that, the men deliberate their plans before heading off to their respective destinations and you return to your room. The thought of not going eats away at you, maybe it would’ve been better to take the risk and venture out… 

“If you’re going to regret it that much, you should’ve gone with them.” 

The voice behind you startles you from your thoughts, you swivel on your heels to greet who’d interrupted your thinking, “Seungkwan… I’m not regretting it.” Yet, you are, so much so that you can’t bear to look into his eyes. But he smiles wryly, putting a hand on your shoulder. 

“Not at all?” He asks with a grin, “Not even if you knew Hansol and I went out of our way to convince Jihoon?” 

“You what…?” The revelation sucks the air from your lungs, not expecting him to say that at all. Had you wasted their kindness? “I’m sorry! I didn’t realize—” 

“Ah, well, it was actually Hansol that convinced him. I just stood behind him and nodded lightly.” 

“Even so,” you say as you look at him, “I’m sorry… I’ll apologize to Hansol later— Should there be another opportunity, please give me another chance to join you.” 

Seungkwan hesitates for a moment before responding, his eyes focusing deeply on yours, “You may be able to accompany us, but you’d better keep that blade sheathed. We don’t need any recklessness holding us back.” His eyes are serious but his smile remains bright, “If there’s any sign of you becoming an issue, I won’t hesitate to put my blade through you.” 

“I understand,” you say, nodding plaintively. 

The Hwarang says nothing more as he removes his hand from you, turning on his heels and making his way out of the main hall.

𝔍𝔲𝔩𝔶 7𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Kwon Soonyoung and Boo Seungkwan stand in the great hall as you enter. The past few weeks had given you no information on the whereabouts of your father, despite you going on patrolling rounds with the different Hwarang captains. You assume the information, or lack of, was the reason for your summoning today by Lee Jihoon. Although the presence of the other two Hwarang captains make you feel somewhat more relieved, you wouldn’t have to face the Demon commander alone. 

“You asked to see me?”  There is a sour look on Jihoon’s face as you ask, something clearly eating away at him. 

“It’s about your father,” he begins, and you perk up for a moment. Jihoon’s frown stays on his face as he looks at you, a sinking feeling in your stomach as you can already tell you won’t like what he says. “I think it’s best we stop searching for him for the time being.” 

“Why?” You can hardly stop yourself from blurting out the question. You’d only been able to search for him for what felt like a handful of weeks, if you were to stop now there was a major possibility you could lose any leads you have. 

Jihoon remains collected, his arms crossing as he speaks again, “We have reports of activity from Baekje loyalists. It would be more than foolish to let you wander the streets in search of your father at a time like this.” 

“Then, are you asking me to stay here until things are resolved with the loyalists?” You question with a tilt of your head, unable to hide the disappointment in your voice. 

The commander nods before turning to Soonyoung and Seungkwan, “That being said, as for now she isn’t to accompany any captain on their rounds.” 

“So that’s why you pulled us in here?” The question is more like a musing as it falls from Soonyoung. It seems like he too hadn’t known why he was called here and it was now beginning to click. “You know, she’s never caused any issues when we took her on our rounds… I feel kind of bad now that she can’t tag along.” 

“Mhm,” Seungkwan nods, “even if something were to happen, as long as she’s not hopping into the fray it should be alright. Besides,” he smirks at you, “it’s not like she could outrun us if she tries to escape.” 

“I won’t run,” you protest firmly, knowing that he was fully joking. Eyes lingering on Seungkwan for a moment before you look back to Jihoon, “I made a promise when I agreed to stay here. I promised I’d look for my father, I can’t hold myself to that if you won’t let me.” 

“Staying with us is putting yourself at risk,” Seungkwan shrugs in your periphery, “if you don’t mind that, I don’t mind you joining us.” His gaze travels to Jihoon, his lips parting, “We’ve had witness reports, I don’t see why we should stop looking when we still have information coming in.” 

“You might have a point, Boo. But are witness reports a justifiable reason to put her in harm’s way?” The commander rebukes, his hands falling to his sides. “By taking her out with us, we’re placing an unnecessary burden on our shoulders.” 

“If I lose the opportunity to search for my father,” fists clenching at your sides, your nails digging into the skin of your palms, “then any future chances of finding him will be nearly impossible.” 

Jihoon looks at you, eyes searching yours, his gaze hardening. You think he’s about to refute you, before he starts speaking again. “You need to follow the orders of every captain you’re on patrol with. No sidetracking them. Am I clear?” 

“Yes,” you nod, “of course.” Unsure of how to show your gratitude, you bow towards him. 

“I’m not going to be the one ordering you to join them,” the commander huffs as you rise, “that’s up to your discretion.” 

It feels like no time at all before you reach the city’s streets accompanying Seungkwan on his rounds. 

“It feels like there’s more people here than usual…” You note as you walk, having to move to the side several times to let flocks of people pass by as the street lay cramped. 

“Mind yourself,” Seungkwan notes, pulling you to the side, out of the way of a passing cart. “Try not to wander off or something. Remember that you’re here to keep me company on my rounds.” 

“Sorry I was just distracted by everyone!” You say, brushing off the dust on your pants, “The city’s much livelier now.” 

His eyes twinkle and he smiles voraciously; you can sense him relax. “Well, there’s a summer festival happening soon, things are busier, I’ll give you that.” His smile wanes just a bit, “Of course, some of those loyalists are acting pretty strange too. What I’m saying is, watch yourself, alright?” 

As you walk down the street with his division, no one comes within a few yards of you; they step away as soon as their eyes catch sight of the blues. You’d noticed this phenomenon briefly when you’d first joined the Hwarang on their rounds, but it seems clear that the people of Seorabeol hold some sort of respect for these men. 

You stop every so often to ask some of the less intimidated passersby if they’d seen your father. Yet, after a few hours of searching, you finally meet someone who claims to have seen a man matching your description.

“Oh, yeah… I think I might’ve seen that guy a while back, over at Joon’s.” As he speaks, he points toward a store selling inkstones and brushes.

“Thank you!” You say as Seungkwan catches your eye, giving you a stern look. It almost looks as if he’s going to scold you when— 

“You there! Are you from the Kang household?!” The cry comes from a Hwarang, and Seungkwan turns from you, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Your household is currently under investigation by order of the Crown.” 

“Well shit…” Seungkwan sighs out, reaching for his sword as he looks at the men in question. “I guess they would choose the worst possible time to stir up trouble.” 

Like leaves scattering in a storm, the townspeople move out of Seungkwan’s way as he moves towards the commotion. For a moment you panic in the mass of fleeing citizens, but perhaps realize it’s best. If you stay too close, you may distract Seungkwan from his duties. 

You duck off into a nearby alley to watch, planning to return to the men once the tension simmers. 

“Hey kid,” a gravelly voice of an elder shopkeeper cries out, “Come over here, you don’t want to get caught up in that.” 

Time and time you’d been told to be wary of strangers while with the Hwarang, and you’re about to politely refuse his gesture when you realize that his shop is the one that the civilian had pointed out to you just moments earlier. 

“Excuse me, but is this Joon’s?” 

“Yes,” the man nods, “It is.” 

“Great!” You cry out, only before being interrupted by another shop employee. 

“Kang! This guy was just with the Hwarang!”

“What?!” The elder says, his eyebrows raising. 

“Huh? I’m not a member of the Hwarang.” You push, but the elder already seems to be backing up into his shop, obviously disinterested in helping you now. “No—it’s not like that! I’m just looking for someone!” Even if you’d just been walking with them, their reaction seems a bit excessive. 

A laugh behind you and you see Seungkwan standing there with his arms crossed, “You really have the shittiest luck, don’t you? Still, I guess you could say the same about them, or me.” He gives a small, unconcerned shrug before reaching for his blade and barreling his way through the door of the shop. 

Joon’s explodes with the clang of blades, men swearing and scrambling. 

When you return to the Hwarang headquarters, Seungcheol has a number of… less than pleasant words to say. Seungkwan and you kneel for quite some time as the colonel berates you before the other speaks up. 

“You don’t need to lose your head over it Seungcheol,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, we arrested a couple of loyalists.”  

After the fighting was finished, you’d discovered a massive arms cache, as well as plans for a new meeting for the loyalists. No one had bothered to explain to you what had been going on, however, and you’d been completely lost. 

“Not something to lose my head over?” Seungcheol frowns, “My head is right where it belongs. Perhaps you should inquire after yours. The man claiming to be Joon Hyunjin was, in truth, Kang Kwanghyeon, a loyalist spy. You were aware that the Hwarang were allowing him to operate in hopes of gathering enemy intel?” 

“Yes,” Seungkwan nods, rising to his feet as Mingyu walks into the hall, “but we didn’t have a choice this time. I had to bring him in.” 

“Well at least it wasn’t a total bust,” Mingyu adds, “Like Seungkwan said, they did arrest some guys.” 

“But don’t you feel bad for Wonwoo and Chan?” Soonyoung asks, trailing behind Mingyu. Had they been outside the doors this whole time? “They were staking out the place to keep an eye on Kwanghyeon.” 

The corners of Soonyoung’s mouth twitch into a smile, but Wonwoo interrupts him to continue. “We appreciate your concern, Soonyoung, but nobody needs to lose any sleep on our account. We hadn’t been getting anywhere with him the last few days, Seungkwan did us a favor.” 

Chan nods in silent agreement. “His arrest is over and done, you won’t hear any complaints from us about it, though.” 

“You’re the definition of stoic and reasonable,” Junhui sighs out, crossing his arms, “Seungkwan on the other hand…” It doesn’t seem as if he’s going to let Seungkwan get away without rubbing his mistake in his face. 

“It’s all my fault,” you say, “Some loyalists were causing trouble, so I tried to get out of the way… I was going to go back to Seungkwan after it settled but the crowds pushed me too far away.” 

“But who was tasked with looking after you?” Seungcheol asks, his eyes glaring at you, expression hard and angry. “A captain of the Hwarang can’t even track a charge. Is this the best we can do?” When you’d first met Seungcheol, he’d been nice, if anything a little quiet. After his injury, however… It was as if he’d become an entirely different person. 

“I told her she could go.” Jihoon says as he walks into the hall, “They were only following orders.”

Seungcheol’s eyes trail him as he moves to stand at the head of the room. He gives the commander a tight, wry smile, but only receives a peaceful, impartial glance in return. 

“If you’re here, then that means you’re done interrogating Kwanghyeon, right?” Mingyu asks expectantly. 

“They’re going to wait for a day when the wind picks up, then set Seorabeol on fire and kidnap the King while everyone else is losing their shit.” Jihoon answers, “So they say, at least.” His voice is calm and measured, but you can all feel the import of his words. 

“Burn down the city?” Junhui scoffs, “Those loyalists are crazier than I thought.” 

“Whatever their reasons, we cannot ignore them,” Hansol says plainly. 

“They’re probably meeting tonight to scramble together a plan without Kwanghyeon in it.” Jihoon says, “We need to get ready to move out.” 

“Understood,” Hansol nods. 

“Finally,” Junhui says as he stretches, several pops coming from his back, “I’m getting chills.” 

Even though each man displays their professionalism differently, they are all clearly prepared. As they quiet down, Jihoon turns towards you, as if he’d only just noticed you’re standing there. 

“We did get some information on Heo, apparently he visited Joon’s with some men from the west.” 

“What?” 

“So, the rumors that he was seen in Seorabeol were true, but that’s all there is to it.” 

There are so many questions running through your head that you want to ask but you know that no one here has an answer for them.

Preparations for the raid begin immediately after the captains are all gathered in the main hall. There was even more commotion by the time dinner rolled around. The halls now darkened save for the braziers and candles that light the entrances and walls. The tension is thick enough to cut with a knife.

 It still affects you all the same. Your encounter at Joon’s created some of their current headache, and you hope to make up for it. Yet, any offer of assistance now is rebuked, it became quite clear that you have very little to offer when it comes to preparing for a raid. At the end of it, you stick to the wall, standing there quietly to avoid being a burden.

“Youngmin has only twelve men ready to fight,” Hansol murmurs to Mingyu. 

“And Jihoon and I have twenty-four a piece, everyone’s sick!” Mingyu says exasperatedly. There had been a swift food poisoning epidemic earlier in the week leaving many men bedridden. It’s like they’re now divided in half. Youngmin would lead a group of a dozen men to Wonweol Inn and Jihoon would lead twenty-three to Jeolin Inn on opposite ends of the city. “Do you think we’ll bring ‘em along tonight?” Mingyu asks, “It’d be perfect…” 

Them?

“I heard they won’t see combat for a while. They’re having… difficulty adjusting.” Hansol frowns. “They stop listening to orders as soon as they see blood. It’s rather inconvenient.”

The topic confuses you, yet you feel as if you’d heard something similar a while ago. Both of the captains hadn’t realized that you’re listening to their conversation. But it’s crucial that you don’t speak up. 

“They’ve gotta be spinning in their graves… Didn’t they choose to do this so they could fight?” 

“Mingyu… You can only say that after someone’s actually dead.”

“I guess you’re right,” the younger of the two captains sighs out, “They aren’t really dead, are they? They’re actually harder to kill now…” 

Now you really know you’re not supposed to be listening to this. To remove yourself from the area, you quickly begin to walk outside of the main hall, but as you open the door, you nearly run into another figure. 

“Huh? What’re you doing here?” Youngmin says as he holds his arms out to steady you as you brake in front of him.

“Oh… I… I couldn’t just sit there…” You explain to him how you feel useless in this situation, that you’d left your room to try and help but found nothing you could do. 

“Of course,” he smiles, trying to comfort you, “I know how you feel! The men are pretty excited, aren’t they?” 

“Yes,” you nod, not knowing if excited was the best term for him to use. Bloodthirsty may have been better. 

“Would you care to join us?” He asks simply. 

“What?!” You sputter out, not expecting him to say that. “You mean go on a raid with you? I don’t think that I could—”

“You see, many of my men are out with food poisoning, so we’re a bit understaffed. We could certainly use a messenger, but if you’d rather not, there’s no need to feel obligated.”

“Well, alright,” you nod, remembering that Youngmin’s group had lost the most men due to the sickness, “if I’ll just be a messenger, it should be okay.” 

His face splits into a grin and you find yourself on the way to Wonweol Inn to accompany their raid.

After you arrived at Wonweol, you were sent off on several short errands nearby. When you return, you hear Junhui talking to Seungkwan. 

“Looks like we’ve hit the jackpot on this one. Not sure if they’re brave, or stupid, for meeting right next to a government building.” Junhui says, glancing at the building next to the Inn.

“I knew they’d be here,” Seungkwan sighs, “After all, they’ve had a record of meeting at Wonweol.”

“Sure,” Junhui says, crossing his arms, “but the night Kwanghyeon gets arrested? That just seems sloppy to me. Aren’t they afraid of looking suspicious?” 

“Well obviously they’re somewhat less than normal,” Seungkwan quips, “They are meeting at Wonweol, aren’t they?” 

Their conversation is somewhat lighthearted, which doesn’t quite match the subject matter. As you approach, Soonyoung notices you and jogs over. 

“How’d it go?” He questions, “Did you see anyone from the Guard?”

 You shake your head before answering, “To be honest, I didn’t really see anyone nearby.”

“So, they still haven’t made their move? We told them that we’d be here before dark…” 

“Calm down, Soonyoung,” Junhui says as he walks over, lightly slapping the other on the back, “It won’t do us any good if they show up anyway. If this is gonna happen, we’ve gotta do it ourselves.” 

“I guess… It’s just that running in on our own seems a little reckless?” Soonyoung frowns, and Kangjoon, who’s on standby behind Soonyoung, nods in agreement.

“It is reckless.” He asserts, “We should wait for the Guard’s reinforcements.”

“If you believe that’s the best course of action,” Youngmin cedes, “Then why don’t we wait a little longer.”

Yet, no matter how long you wait, the officials still haven’t made it. 

You find yourself looking up at the sky. The moon inching further across the scape the longer you stay in the recesses of Wonweol.

“It’s getting late…” Junhui murmurs.

“What do you want to do, Chief?” Seungkwan asks Youngmin, “It’d be pretty shitty if we just sat here all night.” 

Youngmin had been quiet all this time, yet when Seungkwan spoke to him, he stood up, ready to address his men.

“We can’t wait a moment longer. Seungkwan, Junhui, Soonyoung: you all, follow me.” 

Seungkwan nods quietly but firmly as Kangjoon speaks up, “I will secure the front entrance so you guys can have at it.” 

“Aren’t you coming?” Soonyoung questions, surprised. 

“It’s all good,” Seungkwan quips, “I mean, we don’t want him in the dark and then mistakenly stabbing us you know? Oh, actually… We may mistakenly stab him.” 

“What are you suggesting, Seungkwan?” Kangjoon frowns as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. 

“Now, now.” Junhui intervenes, “If you want someone charging, we want someone reliable anyways. So, with that said, take care of the outside, Kangjoon.” 

“Can you stay away from the Inn?” Youngmin turns as he asks you, “Things are going to get dangerous. That place is full of rebel soldiers. We don’t intend to allow them to escape, but… better safe than sorry.” 

“Alright,” you say as he smiles at you, motioning for the men to join him in rushing the inn. 

The battle begins in earnest. The yells of men and the clang of swords fills the air soon after the Hwarang make their way inside, the sounds roll out of the doors and windows of the inn. 

You can hear feet pounding up the stairs, the screams of men dying and the wet thud of bodies dropping to the floor. 

“Damn it!” You hear Junhui shout out, “There’s too many of them! We need backup! Is there anyone outside?!” 

There had been moments prior, but all of the men who’d come with the captains had run around back and couldn’t hear Junhui call out. Kangjoon, on the other hand, is stationed outside, arresting any man attempting to flee the building. 

Is the only person left to really help you? Your thoughts interrupted when Youngmin yells out—

“Seungkwan! Are you alright?!”

 “Damn it Soonyoung! Don’t die on me!” Junhui calls out from somewhere else inside the building.

You have no desire to enter a slaughterhouse, with men killing and maiming one another. Even if you do, you have no illusions about your skill with a blade. You’re sure to be killed before you even draw it. 

Perhaps though, instead of fighting, you can rescue the wounded and pull them from the inn. This is how you find yourself drawn closer to the fray, only running inside when you hear Junhui yell out once again. 

Inside, it’s pitch black. The smell of blood hits your stomach like a fist. Black masses lay crumpled on the floor; the bodies of dead or dying men. Where are Seungkwan and Soonyoung? 

Entering the building had seemed a good idea on the outside, but now that you look around the charnel house, you realize that there is no way you can carry two men outside. 

With the fighting going on, and in the darkness too, you’d only be an impediment to the Hwarang should you choose to stumble around blindly in the dark— Looking around the inn, you cannot see a singular face that you recognize. It’s not until an unfamiliar face shouts out at you and raises their blade, do you fully realize the severity of your situation. 

Yet, before the blade meets your flesh, another sword juts out and parries it away from you. 

“Hey, hey, hey!” Junhui shouts out to the revivalist, “You’re fighting me!” The Hwarang swings again and ends up burying his sword deep into the man’s stomach. 

Eyes trained on the blood pouring from the wound and now the man’s mouth, you can’t find it within yourself to look away.

“Would you mind checking upstairs?” Junhui asks quickly, his eyes trained on a few more men stumbling into the main room, “No one’ll get past me. I promise!” With that, he pushes past you and heads towards the group of men, your eyes focusing on the bright crimson trailing down his hand from a cut he’d received earlier. “Get going!” He calls out as his blade crashes against another’s.

And so, you do, quickly slipping by the throng of fighting bodies as you travel quickly up the staircase, your feet thudding along the wood. 

The scent of blood has traveled upstairs too, stinging your nose with its metallic tang as you look around the hall. Without another thought, you open the nearest door and run into the room. It seems like this darkened corner of the inn hasn’t been tainted with bloodshed yet, the interior clean and tidy. 

“Pray tell, why are you here?” A voice calls out from the dark and you realize you aren’t alone. At the open window, someone stares off into the darkness, the breeze of the night carrying his voice to you.

He wears no uniform belonging to either the revivalists or the Hwarang, just pale-yellow robes embroidered with a flower you can’t make out in the dark. 

Even as you stand shocked, you have a plethora of questions; Why is he here? What is he doing? Who is he? 

It seems like he hasn’t partaken in the battle, only looking to the streets coated in moonlight as the fighting wages downstairs. He seems calm, almost serene in the way he stands and throws a look back to you. 

“Who are you?” You find yourself asking as his reddened eyes pierce into yours. 

“Are you the one asking questions now?” A small smile dances along his lips as he only replies with a question himself. “Worry about where you are more than you’re worried about me.” 

His words snap you from the tranquility of the moment. Right, he’s an enemy, isn’t he? Instinctively, your hand reaches for the blade at your hip, his brow raising at your movement. 

“Planning on joining the fight?” As his gaze lingers on the steel, his eyes widen, “Wait, is that—?” The man now stands facing you directly, taking a step towards you as his eyes remain fixated on the blade. 

Just then, the door to the room flies open and a bloodied warrior saunters in, looking frantically to the stranger, “Hey, the Hwarang raided—” His report stops when he lays eyes on you, “Who the hell are you?!” Without hesitation, he reaches for his blade after not recognizing you as one of his own, and begins to swing at you. Although, before his blade can reach your head, a loud shout comes from the first man you’d encountered. 

“Quiet!” Almost in a blink of an eye, he’d unsheathed his own sword and charged at the already bloodied man, downing him with a singular strike. Once the man falls to the floor, the closer of the two looks to you, “Didn’t I tell you? You should be more concerned about yourself.”

“Why did you…” Your eyes still focused on the man who lays dead or dying at your feet, “Isn’t he your ally?” 

“If he were an ally, I wouldn’t have cut him loose.” His self-possession quiets you as he sheathes his sword.

It’s obvious that he isn’t a member of the Hwarang. You don’t know his purpose here either. 

Above anything, his gaze captures yours, enamoring your senses as if he were the only thing that matters right now. His eyes draw you into a lucid hypnosis, filling you with doubt about if he is a threat to you at all.

“…Thank you,” you’re able to say once you regain a bit of composure. 

A smirk crawls to the corner of his mouth, “Looks like you have some manners despite staying by the Hwarang’s side.” He’s mocking the men that had taken you in, and yet, you can’t bring yourself to argue against what he’s saying. 

“Why did you save me?” Questioning as his gaze falls to the blade at your hip. 

“Does that belong to you?” Ignoring your question, he imposes his own. His eyes glimmer almost burgundy from the silver light of the moon refracting into the room. 

“It does…” your hand now hovers near the blade as he lets out a soft laugh. 

“Then you can thank your blade.” Before you can ask him why, he turns but not before giving you a sly wink. “My business here is done. You can do whatever you want.” He takes his time walking towards the open window, jumping through it without any hesitation or final words. 

Your feet carry you to the window, but there isn’t any sign of the stranger. No footprints, no up kick of dirt—nothing. He’d made it clear that he wasn’t aligned with either side here tonight, so then why had he been at the inn? 

Standing there dumbfounded, you sense a presence entering the room behind you quietly. A prickle on the back of your neck and you slowly wrap your hand around your blade. 

“Are you alright?” The voice of Lee Chan startles you and you spin on your feet. You look at him with a puzzled expression, hadn’t he gone to Jeolin with Jihoon? It’s then your shoulders let go of their tension for a moment, reinforcements had arrived. 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 2𝔫𝔡, 661 - 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Ever since the raids on both Wonweol and Jeolin Inn, the Hwarang had become stricter on their rounds around Seorabeol, looking for and capturing any of the Baekje revivalists that had escaped that night. Rumors had begun to plague the streets that the loyalists were looking for revenge on those who tried to stop their rebellion. On top of that, the Hwarang were under harsh scrutiny of their opposers in the Crown’s court, despite them having stopped a meeting that was calling for the kidnapping of Silla’s monarch. 

Yet as the days creeped more lethargically into the summer, it seems as if the tensions that had arisen earlier in the season were dying down. Life was somewhat steady again. And due to your efforts during the battle, the Hwarang were growing more receptive and encouraging of your involvement with them. A small victory, for sure, but you were now allowed to complete chores in solitude now rather than being watched over by one of the captains. That’s where you find yourself now, sweeping away the dust that had accumulated in the overnight winds in front of the complex. 

You’re humming to yourself, brushing the boom atop the agate stone of the entrance when you hear gentle footsteps walking up the stairs to the main gate. 

“Excuse me,” a soft voice calls out to you, “Is this the Hwarang headquarters?” 

You look up from your work, your lips parting in mild surprise at seeing a familiar face, “It is.” 

“Ah, yes- hello,” the man smiles at you, the sunlight glimmering off of the purple silk of his robes, he then pauses, his eyes widening. “You’re…” 

“Huh?” 

As if he had telepathic means to tell if you’d strayed away from your task, the front entrance of the hall swings open, Jihoon standing in the doorway. He looks from you to the man and then back to you, pausing as if to let you speak. 

“Commander,” eyebrows raising in surprise, “This is-” 

Before you can finish speaking, the stranger almost gleefully runs to the commander. 

“I knew it!” he says, an unhidden delight in his words as he smiles at Jihoon, “It’s me, Seokmin, long time no see!” 

“Y- Wait, Seokmin?” Jihoon looks surprised as the other announces himself, “What are you doing here?!” 

A laugh from Seokmin, “Are you surprised? I’m visiting Seorabeol with the Crown’s orders.” He waves his hand, “But forget about that. I can’t believe it was you connected to the Hwarang! I couldn’t believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. Congratulations, you really followed your and Hoseok’s dream.” 

The name lingers in the air heavily for a moment between the two, you’ve never heard of a Hoseok before. Looking at the two of them, it must’ve been at least an acquaintance of theirs. 

Jihoon doesn’t let the weight last, breaking it with a small smile. “Come on, if I were to fully do that, I’d be a general by now. The Hwarang aren’t treated much better than the city guard at this point.” 

“Still,” a somewhat nostalgic look in Seokmin’s eye, “I’m sure he’d be happy either way. The Hwarang are famous in Seorabeol, and gaining even more notoriety in other cities. With the raids last month, you’ve gained even more popular support.” 

Jihoon looks humble for a second, breaking his gaze with Seokmin to look at the ground. “We’re still working on that,” he mumbles out as the other laughs at him. 

It was an odd thing to see Jihoon flustered, you’d really only seen a mild variant of his embarrassment when Seungkwan would really get under his skin. But you’ve never seen his cheeks go flush before. With Seokmin’s teasing and knowledge of something that seemed to have happened years ago, it would suggest that they’ve known each other for a while. Are they good friends? 

Once you sense their conversation coming to a lull, you speak up, “Commander, can I ask who this is?” 

“Oh, yeah. You two haven’t met, I take it?” Jihoon muses and turns to look at you. 

“Oh, I haven’t introduced myself yet.” Seokmin nods, “My name is Lee Seokmin. I’m a Naegeumwi.” 

You introduce yourself quickly. 

“It’s nice to meet you,” he smiles and gives you a short bow. 

Jihoon then gazes at the cloudless, sunny sky for a moment, “We don’t need to talk outside like this, why don’t you come in?” 

As the two make their way inside, you set the broom that is still in your hands next to the doorway and scurry off to the kitchen. You return to them some while later holding a tray of tea and assorted goods. After you set down the tray, Jihoon tells you to stay, so you take a seat a little way away from where the two are conversing. 

“You said you’re here on Crown orders? What are you here for?” Jihoon asks, his hand hovering over his steaming cup of tea. 

“I’m currently working in one of the Sodang units.” Seokmin explains. He goes on to say a few more things about his duties, but you’re unfamiliar with a majority of the lingo they use, so you try to follow along to the best of your ability. 

Jihoon, glancing at you and seeing your viable confusion, speaks up, “He’s in the Naegeumwi, entrusted with protecting King Munmu and his family.” 

“Oh wow,” you look at Seokmin, “I’m honored to meet someone with such a high ranking.” 

“Please,” he says, bowing his head humbly, “I only acquired this position because of the connections my father has.” 

“Why would someone with his rank need to visit the Hwarang?” You question Jihoon. While the Hwarang work under the Crown, there was no direct connection, whereas it seems as if Seokmin works quite literally with the king. 

“Are you asking why he’d know a bunch of washed-up nobles and commoners like us?” Jihoon asks, almost teasingly. You nod gently, so as to not offend him. “You see, not only is Seokmin a Naegeumwi, but his father’s father was Lee Alcheon.” Once again noting your confusion he clarifies, “A Sangdaedeung under Queen Jindeok some years ago. He opened a fairly prestigious school after his time in office, and now Seokmin here is the heir to it. The school I attended socialized often with the Lee school and that’s how I came to meet him.” 

“That’s right,” Seokmin nods, “When I heard that I was heading to Seorabeol I knew that I had to find you.” His eyes shine with admiration towards Jihoon, but the commander just scoffs and rolls his eyes at him. 

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Lee,” Jihoon sighs, “And remember: Seorabeol isn’t exactly a relaxing getaway.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind… However, even if it is dangerous, it seems even a woman can join the Hwarang?” Seokmin looks at you coyly before returning his gaze to the commander. He judges both the surprised look and glare from Jihoon for a moment before raising his hand to his mouth in surprise, “Was that supposed to be a secret?” He waits a moment, seeing as there’s no answer, he continues, “It’s not difficult to tell. I mean it’s not her fault.” 

“I know,” Jihoon’s probably recalling the first he’d met you; he’d been one of the first to figure it out, “Only a fool couldn’t see.” He resigns himself into a sigh, “Her reasons for being here are somewhat complicated, so we’re having her dress as a man for now. Only a handful of men in the Hwarang know of her circumstance, so I’d prefer if you didn’t speak about it in front of anyone.” 

“I understand,” the guard agrees. 

The three of you talking must’ve drawn the attention of the captains, because as Seokmin was about to begin teasing the commander some more, they slowly began to filter in. 

“Seokmin!” Junhui says as he sees the guard, running over to him and throwing an arm around his shoulder, “I thought you’d said you’d visit sooner!” 

“We thought we heard your voice somewhere, Wen thought he was hallucinating,” Mingyu notes as he greets Seokmin. 

“Junhui, Mingyu,” a smile curling onto Seokmin’s lips as Junhui relinquishes him from his grasp, “And everyone else! Long time no see.” 

“Can’t believe you’re in Seorabeol too now, are you here to train?” Junhui asks. 

“Don’t be stupid, Wen. I bet he’s here to protect something or someone important, right?” Soonyoung questions as he looks to the guard. 

A breathy chuckle from Seokmin, “It’s… something like that.” 

“If you’re in Seorabeol, then it must’ve been a good job offer.” Hansol notes, as he looks at Seokmin. 

Seokmin nods silently to affirm him while Seungkwan speaks up, “If that’s the case: be careful. Don’t be stupid and go off dying on us.” 

“Thank you for the warning,” Seokmin looks to the elder, “I’ll keep that in mind.” 

“We should go drinking to celebrate someday, hell, we could go now if you want!” Junhui shouts out, eager to get out of the headquarters for a bit. 

The rest of the captains surround Seokmin for a while, immersing themselves in conversation and banter with the guard as he, too, seems to get lost in it all. So, he really did know all of them. 

“Despite him being in the Naegeumwi, and heir of his grandfather’s school…” Jihoon’s eyes hold a fond warmth as he looks onto the commotion happening in the room. “He doesn’t hold that over the heads of the ranks lower than him. No one can escape his amiable nature.” The commander then turns to you, “Whenever he visits, be sure to let him in.” 

“Alright,” you nod, not bothered by that order at all. Seokmin seemed to bring a warmth to the Hwarang men that you hadn’t seen too often, it was probably good for them. 

The men spent an exorbitant amount of time regaling about memories and incidents that had happened with their friend, and before they or you knew it, evening descended upon the compound with the orange glow of the setting sun. Seokmin notes this at one point and says he has to depart back to his duties. 

“I’ll try to drop by again soon,” Seokmin smiles, a twinkle in his eyes, before he turns on his heels and heads towards the city. You watch him as he leaves, his tall figure becoming smaller and smaller with every step before he eventually disappears down the pathway. 

Even if he was an important person and a friend of the Hwarang, he was an enigma to you. Seokmin was assuredly high amongst the bone-ranks, maybe even higher than the Hwarang’s commander, yet upheld himself with integrity and mindfulness to everyone he came across. You’d never been made aware of a noble that was like that before, most adhering to the rigid structure of the realm. 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 15𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 It’s hot. Blazingly so. The city is blanketed by a heat so unknown to you that you found yourself perspiring as you awoke that morning. You’d thought you’d been sick until you walked into the main hall and saw the other captains in a similar state to yourself. There was nothing to be done about it except for staying in the shade or perhaps cooling off by a river. 

Yet, that’s not what was in store for you. Ever since your actions on the nights of the inn raids, Jihoon has been much more forgiving in his attitude, allowing you to resume your patrols with the captains. And seeing as Kim Mingyu was about to head out, you decided to tag along. 

You regret that decision almost immediately when you step onto the city’s streets, the crowds not doing anything to damper the rays of sun beaming down onto you. 

“Mingyu?” You ask as the two of you walk down the street, “The Hwarang patrol both night and day, right?” 

“They do,” he nods, wiping the sweat that had accumulated around the headband on his forehead, “Why?” 

“Why is it that you do? Wouldn’t that be more of the city guard’s job?” You question as you pass by an armory, the heat of its fires only causing you to perspire more. 

“Because most of the city guard’s been called to the front,” his shoulders shrug, “Emperor Gaozong called them to help his forces root out Goguryeo last month so they’ve had a decline in their numbers… I’m not sure when they’ll be back, I heard the King was leading generals to Siigok Garrison so I can only assume it’ll be a while.” 

“So, you’ve become the city guard then?”

“I mean, in a way,” he thinks, “We arrest thieves, people who’re looking for fights and who don’t pay for their meals. And then there are those who think they’ll just mooch off of merchants...”

It wasn’t fully the answer you’d been expecting, maybe along the lines of it. The adoption of the guard’s role was something new, but you couldn’t fault them for it if the city needed their swords. Before you’re able to continue to question him, a few men in Hwarang blues down the road seem to be trying to wave Mingyu down. Getting closer to the scene, you can make out Junhui’s figure and a few more Hwarang men.

“Hey!” He smiles as the two of you stand before him, he looks to you before asking, “Find anything about your dad?” 

“No,” a small shake of your head, “Nothing yet.” 

“Ah, cheer up,” he says, gently hitting you on the arm as he sees your downtrodden frown, “There’s always tomorrow.” 

“You’re right,” pepping up slightly at his words. Junhui seems to be able to energize and lighten the mood whenever someone was feeling low, it was something you’d noticed over the course of getting to know him. It was almost as if his optimism was contagious. 

“Did you find anything fun, Junhui?” Mingyu questions, probably wondering if there was any more reason for Junhui flagging you down other than wanting to say hello. 

“Nothing in particular…” Junhui admits, “But, all of the people on this street are acting really busy.” 

You think he’s being a little over dramatic, but a closer observation of the pedestrians and shopkeepers has you thinking a little more critically. There was almost a nervousness, an anxiety, threading itself through the air and in their movements. 

“It looks like they’re… packing up?” You observe, eyeing one merchant in particular boxing away his things.

“You think they’re worried about the war with Goguryeo or the Baekje guys?” Mingyu asks Junhui, crossing his arms. 

“I thought that the Baekje threat was resolved...?” You say, looking from Mingyu to Junhui, confusion seeped into your voice. 

The taller rests his hand atop the hilt of his sword, “We didn’t tell you, did we? Those Baekje bastards have been showing up again, that’s why we’ve been having extra rounds.” 

“Even if we did weaken them at Wonweol,” Mingyu frowns, “I can’t really imagine them standing idly around when we’ve put some of their men in the ground. And now that the king’s absent… it’s a little trickier for us.” 

“Were the loyalists planning on doing something?” You ask, the way Mingyu had spoken leads you to believe something had been in the works. 

“Not sure,” Junhui says with a shake of his head, “Other than what we found out after the raids we haven’t gotten wind of anything else.” 

“It doesn’t matter, though,” Mingyu notes, “All we’ve got to do is do our jobs. The loyalists attack Seorabeol, we drive them out. It’s as simple as that.” The Hwarang just accept the cards they’re dealt and never seem to complain. 

“If the loyalists continue their stunts, then we’re probably going to get orders from the king to do something whenever he gets back,” Junhui sighs, not knowing how long the sovereign would be out of the capital. 

“What do you think he’d decree?” A tilt of your head as you ask, unknowing what more he could make the Hwarang do. 

“In the past the Hwarang have fought almost as their own regiment, he might do that.” Junhui shrugs, his hand moving from his sword and down to his side. 

“That doesn’t happen too often,” Mingyu nods almost approvingly and then turns to you with a joking smile, “You should join us.” 

You laugh at the sudden invitation, knowing full well the offer wasn’t real. Seeing as the female version of the Hwarang, the Wonhwa, had been thrown away since before the Hwarang themselves were even conceptualized, it was a long shot to think that you could march along their ranks. As much as you want to help these men, you’re not sure that they’d fully accept you into their ranks. But if you could aid them like you had on the night of the raids on the two inns, you wouldn’t mind doing something like that again. 

“If you want me to go with you, I wouldn’t be opposed,” you shoot back at Mingyu, cracking a small smile at him. “If you need me to help, I’ll do whatever I can.” 

His smile deepens, the dimples on his cheeks beginning to show, “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind if the time comes.” 

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 18𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 “Excuse me,” you say quietly as you make your way into the main hall, the wooden handle of the teapot in your grasp course on your palm. The heat of its contents rises up to try and weaken your grip on the vessel. “I brought you all some more tea.” 

The Hwarang captains and men sit in various spots around the hall, you’re not sure why they’re convening, but they’d been in there for at least an hour discussing some matter at hand. 

“Thanks!” Junhui calls out and beckons you over, he takes the pot from your hands and begins to pour tea into his already halfway filled cup, “It’s almost like you’re our servant or something.” 

More so a page, but you weren’t going to correct him quite yet. You take back the pot and look around for anyone who might need a refill. Spotting Eunseok trying to catch your eye, you make your way over and fill his cup. 

“Thank you,” he says once you’re finished, quickly bringing the cup to his lips and blowing on the warm contents. 

“It’s no problem,” you smile, voice barely above a whisper as you try not to disrupt the main conversation flowing throughout the hall. As you’re about to move away, Seungkwan swipes the pot from your grasp, pouring his own cup of tea and taking a drink of it. His face contorts for a moment and you question, “Does it not taste good?” 

“It tastes fine, I guess,” his shoulders shrug as he leans back in his seat, “It could stand to be a little warmer though, maybe you’re just taking too long to pour it.”

 “Oh,” you frown, taking the pot back from him, holding your free hand to the side of the vessel for a moment to test the warmth, “I’ll go and brew some more.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” Soonyoung butts in, motioning for you to hand him the pot, “I like it lukewarm because it’s easier to drink, right, Hansol?” 

“Right,” the aforementioned captain nods, “It’s easier to drink on a hot day like this.” 

It looks as if Soonyoung’s about to speak again before Youngmin barges into the hall, a stoic expression drawn onto his face. 

“The Hwarang have received an official request from the Crown to head to Sabi. All available men must get ready to set out at once,” Youngmin says, a sternness in his voice hinting at a notion of pride somewhere hidden away in its depths. There’s general excitement beginning to buzz among the Hwarang before he continues, “It seems as if they’ve noticed all of our hard work as of late.” It’s then he lets himself break out into a prideful smile; it was clear he was proud of the work the Hwarang had achieved in the past few weeks. 

As you scan the faces of the room, there is one in particular that has a sour expression forming as Youngmin finishes. 

“We don’t have time to celebrate,” Jihoon says, rising to his feet, “We need to get moving now, so get off of your asses and go!” The captains and other men then begin to follow his lead and stand, “Those loyalists are already in Seorabeol, we need to cut the head off of this snake before it lays any more eggs.”

Once the men filter out and it’s only you and the captains, Jihoon speaks up, “Only when there’s somewhere else to go, they tell us to haul ass?” He shakes his head, “We may not be the Guard or the Watch, but it doesn’t mean we’re any less expendable.” 

“Soonyoung and Seungkwan,” Seungcheol says after Jihoon’s done mumbling to himself, “You’ll remain here. I know it’s not what you want, but your injuries from Wonweol are still preventing you from active duty.” You glance to his hand, knowing full well that the colonel would be staying behind as well.  

“Speak for yourself,” Seungkwan frowns, clearly perturbed by the orders, “It’s not like my injuries didn’t recover. But I’m not at peak performance, even I can realize that. So, if you want me to hang back, I guess I can…” 

“That’s bullshit!” Adversely, Soonyoung points to his forehead, the cut he’d received during the raids still an angry pink where the skin had been slashed. “This is just a scratch, Kwak’s just being too careful.” 

“Are you being serious?” Mingyu scoffs at the younger, “I heard you in your room crying about how much it still hurt last night.” 

“You bastard,” Soonyoung pouts, “Don’t you want me out there with you guys?”

“Oh, believe me, I do, Kwon.” Mingyu shakes his head, chuckling, “I just want you at your best. Not crying into your pillow because of a scratch. Even you heard him, right?” He looks to you for affirmation. 

“HEY!” Soonyoung whines, you think he’s going to clamp his hand over Mingyu’s mouth but the other moves away before he can. “Don’t ask her! And can you try to keep your mouth shut for a little while?” Soonyoung then gives you a sideways glance as if to ask if you really had heard him complaining yesterday. 

“...Your injury still hasn’t healed, Soonyoung.” You don’t explicitly admit that you heard his grumblings, even though you had. The band he normally wears with the Hwarang insignia hides the scar well, but without it, like he is now, it’s a stark reminder that he isn’t quite ready for the front lines again. 

“Hm, you said you wanted to go with us if we ever got the orders, didn’t you?” Junhui interrupts the lull in the room as he asks you a question. “Are you still up for that?” 

Even if you said that you’d join Junhui and Mingyu when you were out with them the other day, you thought you’d been joking, or half-joking at least. It would be risky if you did join them. 

“I don’t see any reason why you can’t tag along,” Youngmin says with a nod of his head, “Opportunities for the Hwarang to move under Crown command alone are rare.” While he’s supposed to be the leader of the Hwarang, Kwak Youngmin was very easily swayed by his men’s words.  

“What?” Soonyoung says, almost confused as he looks from Junhui to Mingyu. “If she’s going with you, then maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for me to tag along too, right?” 

“You’re still not where you need to be,” Junhui says, nudging the other with his elbow gently, “Just stay here and heal up.”

“Are you sure it’s okay that I go with you?” You ask, still not fully convinced they want you tagging along with them. 

The captain and colonel sigh at your reservations.  

“We can’t promise that you won’t get injured, or worse.” Jihoon says, a distressed glint in his eyes as he speaks to you, “I think you should stay here.”  

“Staying here would be an undue burden on the rest of us that stay,” Seungcheol argues back, “We’re not here to be a source of entertainment for you.” 

“Seungcheol…” Hansol speaks up, “So, as long as she’s not being burdensome, she’s free to go with us?” 

Is he standing up for you? It seems to be the case as Seungcheol looks at him in surprise, his eyes widening at the captain.  

“You’re really in favor of taking her along with you?” The colonel asks, his brow furrowing as he tries to understand the rationale.  

“She was an asset to us as Wonweol,” Hansol’s shoulders shrug, “Taking that into consideration, I hardly believe that she can be considered a ‘burden’, when recalling that.” 

“Great!” Youngmin exclaims, relinquishing the two from their conversation as his hands clap together. “I’ll take full responsibility for your inclusion, that is, if you want to go with us.” 

“Do whatever you want to do,” almost as if he can sense your hesitation, Seungkwan speaks up. The two of you make eye contact, and a smaller version of the smirk he almost always has plastered on his face curls to his lips. “Just as long as you know that this is a battle you’re going to, not a party.” 

Maybe you’d be able to help them out as you had on the night of the raids. It was a strong maybe, but you couldn’t let that hinder your decision making, could you?  

“I’d like to participate,” you find the words falling from your lips before you have the thought of saying them in the first place. Perhaps it was your subconscious speaking for what you truly want.  

𝔄𝔲𝔤𝔲𝔰𝔱 24, 661 - 𝔒𝔲𝔱𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔒𝔫𝔤𝔰𝔞𝔫, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 (𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔪𝔢𝔯 𝔅𝔞𝔢𝔨𝔧𝔢 𝔰𝔱𝔯𝔬𝔫𝔤𝔥𝔬𝔩𝔡) Entering the territory of the former kingdom is more eye opening to you than you had ever thought it would be. Rather than the calmness that had been exemplified by the King’s announcements back in Silla, there is an anxious tension wrought in the villages and towns as the Hwarang sweep through. Even though they were only passing by, the inhabitants would warily gaze upon you, the captains, and the rest of the men as if to gauge how hostile their new countrymen would be. 

The main goal is to reach Ongsan, a former Baekje fortress that stands on the once border between the two Kingdoms. It seems as if the same group of loyalists from Seorabeol had taken over the now-emptied armament and claimed it as their headquarters. The Crown assigned the Hwarang the mission of expelling them, in a way of their gratitude for their performance on the night of the Wonweol and Jeolin Inn raids. 

Judging from what the captains were saying this morning, it seems as if you’re not too far from your destination. You don’t know the layout of this land, the towns are unfamiliar and the faces just as so.  

For the most part, the men have been silent, only the odd gripe from one of the Hwarang. The absence of both Seungkwan and Soonyoung are notable, their voices seeming to fill in large gaps of silence when in attendance. It’s not until your troupe stops in front of a walled gate, presumably leading into a city, that Youngmin speaks up. Before the group stands a few other soldiers, from Silla by the looks of their armor.  

“My name is Kwak Youngmin, leader of the Seorabeol Hwarang. I am here on orders from Kim Seokmin, an army general under His Majesty King Munmu.” He stands before an officer of the troupe that was already there. 

Kim Seokmin is one of the most influential members of the Crown’s court. The father of Kim Mingyu and former Hwarang himself, he acquired favor from the kingship due to his efforts in a handful of Baekje rebellions in the decades prior. 

The officer looks confused, his brow furrowing, “You were told to report here? Did you not meet with the men from Unghyeon?” 

“Unghyeon?” You mouth the word in the same confusion the officer was expressing. It’s a Silla fortress some distance away from where you all stand now; it hadn’t been brought up in any conversation the Hwarang had had on their trek. 

“Several generals and their troops were sent there to convene before the attack,” Hansol leans over to you and whispers, “If we were meant to meet with them, it’s most likely the message to tell us to do so was intercepted.”  

“Does that mean they know we’re coming?” You ask quietly, looking around to the other captains to try and gauge what they’re thinking.  

“It’s likely they’ve put the pieces together,” Hansol nods solemnly, “But I can’t imagine they have the numbers to rival both us and the other group.” 

“This could still get messy, though,” you sigh, hoping the break in communication wouldn’t be but so impactful to the mission. 

“Regardless of that, our aid has been formally requested,” Youngmin stands firm as he speaks to the officer, “If you could relay this to your commandi-” 

 “If that’s the case then I suggest you try and convene with the King’s garrison,” the officer states as he cuts off Youngmin, “We can’t let you in here because we have no idea what’s waiting on the other side.”

“Our orders say to stay stationed here,” Youngmin frowns, clearly frustrated with the lack of cooperation. 

“There’s nothing we can do about this, Chief,” Hansol speaks up, stepping over to Youngmin. “If they won’t allow us access here, maybe it would be in our best interest to try and find the others.” It looks as if Hansol was going to suggest something else before Kangjoon interrupts. 

“Find the others?” He shakes his head almost angrily, “Kim’s orders were to stay stationed here until we were signaled to enter the city. Why would we ignore a military command when we haven’t received anything to tell us to do otherwise? I think we should remain here on standby.” 

“If this was a camp that we were stationed at, that might make sense, Suh.” Hansol states with a frown, “But this is, or very soon will be, the front lines of a battle.” 

“Are you really trying to go against me?” Kangjoon nearly snarls back, the mere thought of someone going against his wishes enraging him, “Don’t forget that I’m the Hwarang’s War Counselor.” 

“And I’m the leader,” Youngmin interjects, “Hansol’s made a good point. We’ll look for the other group’s camp and hopefully get a better understanding of the strategy at play.” 

And with his words, the Hwarang begin to walk along the narrow pathway surrounding the fortress in search of the other group of generals and soldiers that are on their way from Unghyeon. Your group eventually finds the ally camp to the eastern front of the fortress, wooden spikes that had been hastily made surrounding it. A few soldiers come out to greet a few members of the Hwarang as you enter, they might be friends or family members who haven't seen each other in quite some time.  

Almost as soon as you’d entered the camp, Youngmin is ushered into one of the tents to speak with a few generals. You’re not sure who’s in there, but with the pallid complexion of the Hwarang’s leader upon his exit, you can assume it had been higher ranks than he’d been expecting.  

The orders are now to travel to the Southern Gate, the opposite end of where your original orders had been to go with a general and his troops.  

“If these guys say anything, and I don’t think they will, just let me know, okay?” Junhui says as everyone begins to leave the encampment. “Park Kimsu’s not a friendly face around here.” 

“What do you mean?” You ask, not noticing Mingyu saddling up beside you. 

“What he means is, his father’s an enemy of my father,” Mingyu says, a gruffness to his voice as if he’s recalling something. “His father’s probably the one that sent the Watch out the night of the raids to try and take credit for what we did.”  

“That and he’s a major prick,” Junhui adds, “I can’t imagine his men are much better.” 

“Come on you guys,” Youngmin says as he slows his pace in front of you three, falling in line to your steps. “We can’t talk about them like that,” he contradicts his words by letting slip a sly smile for a few seconds before straightening his face and resuming his position at the front of the line.  

By the time you all arrived and set up your small camp, night had fallen quickly, plunging the surrounding area into an inky black, save for the lights several fires dotted around the site provided. Youngmin, Jihoon and the captains had gone off to speak with Park Kimsu and his officers, leaving you and the rest of the Hwarang to sit around camp with little else to do.  

They return what feels like hours later, their shoulders sagging and eyes looking tired as if they'd just run for that time instead of sitting in on a meeting. Eunseok, who had accompanied them, walks over to you with a small and lethargic smile.  

“For the most part they’re being cooperative,” he sighs, “The only reason Kimsu was paired with us is because his father asked for it, though.” 

“Why would he do that?” You ask with a tilt of your head. Earlier, Mingyu has said that his and Kimsu’s families were something along the lines of enemies. 

“I don’t know,” Eunseok shakes his head, “Maybe to rile us up? Regardless of that though, we’re here to watch over the gate and make sure no one escapes.”

“Regardless of that, they’re treating us like reserve troops,” Junhui’s voice is strained as he walks over, his arms high over his head as he stretches. Once he drops his arms down, he speaks up, “They’ve left smaller reserves around the South entrance because the biggest fight is going to happen at the North Gate.” He sounds a little disappointed, as if he were anticipating a big battle.  

“We don’t know what they’ll do exactly,” Hansol says as he trails after him, “We may very well see battle.” 

But that means waiting and seeing as the sun isn’t to rise for a long time, that means waiting overnight. As the crowds disperse and settle into their tents, you find that the Hwarang, at least, are sleeping in shifts so that if the call to arms were to come at night, there would be someone to rouse everyone else.  

“You can rest your head on my shoulder if you need to,” Mingyu says as the two of you sit down to keep watch, the flames in front of you seem like they’re trying to lull you to sleep. 

“I’m alright,” trying to stifle a yawn behind your hand as you shake your head. You’d feel wrong trying to sleep when you know these men could get called to face death at any moment.  

A nervous anxiousness coils around your stomach until you find yourself falling asleep later in the night, not awaking until the sun’s barely peeking over the horizon. When you sit up from the laid down position you’d slept in, you notice that the men had kept a silent vigil all through the night. Even as you were drifting in and out of consciousness, you noted that there were men posted around the camp, looking for anything or anyone suspicious.  

A little while later a large boom reverberates through the surrounding forest. You first think it’s a crack of lightning, or maybe the subsequent boom of thunder that succeeds it, but the sky is clear today, not a cloud in sight. It had echoed like thunder, startling the birds in the nearby trees, and causing more people than just you to jump in shock. 

“What was that?” You question Hansol as he walks past you, seeming to look for someone coming in from outside of the camp. 

“It looks like the main army is beginning to siege the fortress,” he says, his eyes narrowing as scans the tree-line. The soldiers and Hwarang within the camp are moving by now,  

“Let’s get a move on!” Jihoon shouts out from somewhere deeper in the camp, his voice nearing as he continues to speak, “They’re not going to pause the fight until we get there, so get moving!” 

“We were told to stay here,” Park Kimsu says as he emerges from his tent, probably stirred from the commotion outside. The general watches the scramble of men in the camp race for their weapons and armor for a moment before he turns to Jihoon, “You don’t command my men.” 

“Our job is to siege the fortress, not sit on our asses and wait for this to pass by,” The commander bites back, he was almost yelling at the general. “We’re here to root out these loyalists, that won’t happen if we just stay here!”  

“We haven’t even received orders to push!” Kimsu quips, his brow furrowing at the Hwarang.  

“If you have any pride in your position, forget the damn orders and move your men,” Jihoon huffs, straightening the band around his forehead, “They aren’t going to willingly surrender.” The commander and general stare harshly at one another for a moment, almost as if they’re testing each other in a battle of wills. Jihoon, seeing as it was useless to try to neg the other any further, spins on his heels and begins to stalk off.  

“Where are we going?” You whisper to Hansol as Jihoon passes by, muttering something to himself.

 “To face the enemy head on,” He says quietly, “Which, in our case, means the Southern Gate. The main fight is meant to happen at the Northern Gate so I wouldn’t be surprised if they try to divide our numbers to get more support up there.” 

“I see,” You nod, the same nervousness invading your veins once again, it was now riddled with an adrenaline that was probably the only thing making you think clearly. 

Jihoon’s rage at the general seems to have roused the reserve troops, who now, instead of loitering around the camp, seem to be mostly readied up. Led by both Park Kimsu and Lee Jihoon, the army and the Hwarang march their way to the Southern Gate.  

It was only a short trek to the destination, but the remains of skirmishes that seemed to have happened moments prior litter the ground. Soldiers, dead and dying, lay on the ground, chunks of wood from the gate lay in reddened splinters as arrows, both broken and intact, lay riddled where fragments of the gate’s doors once stood. The group that had come before you seem to have successfully made it into the city, but not without losses of their own. You can see both Baekje and Silla armor on the bodies of the fallen soldiers.  

Even if you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what you might see, the reality of it all still shatters your heart.  

Though the Baekje and Silla forces were nowhere to be seen, had your allies driven them further into the fortress? After a quick moment of assessment, Jihoon orders a few captains to investigate what happened, Youngmin sighing as he does so. 

“Had we known a group of Silla warriors were coming in beforehand we would’ve joined them and lost fewer lives.” He frowns as he looks over the scene, looking up once he sees Hansol returning from his survey of the area.  

“It looks like our forces attacked the gate earlier this morning, were repelled briefly before the flank on the Northern Gate began,” the captain recounts, looking to Jihoon, “After their forces were divided the army at the Southern Gate was able to advance into the fortress.” 

“Do you have any word on what’s happening at the Northern Gate?” Jihoon questions, obviously beginning to silently plan a course of action.  

“They’re still fighting,” Hansol nods, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword as if he can tell what Jihoon’s thinking, “The King’s garrison has yet to advance into Ongsan.” 

“Lee!” Mingyu shouts out as he returns from his own survey of the area, running from the direction of the pass to reach the stronghold. “There’s supposedly Baekje reinforcements coming from the west as well, not many, but enough to make a dent in our numbers if we let them.” 

Jihoon’s expression of confidence wavers momentarily as he listens to Kim as he approaches, but before he can comment on it, Chan also races over to the group of captains from surveying inside of the fortress.  

“Commander,” he starts off, a thin sheen of sweat coating his brow, glinting in the daylight now hanging overhead, “It’s believed that the men who led this are heading for the heart of the fortress to try and kill the loyalists trying to run for it.” 

The commander thinks after listening to the cumulative reports, contemplating as to what the next move should be. Although Youngmin is the recognized formal leader of the Hwarang, you’d come to learn the most major decisions were given to Jihoon to make. This was no exception, the crowd of captains anticipating his orders while Kimsu was speaking with his own men of what to do next.  

“It looks like we’ve got our work cut out for us,” Jihoon’s lips curve into a small smile after a moment of silence. “Kim, take your men to the pass to deal with any incoming loyalists. Lee, Choi,” he turns to Chan and Hansol, “follow the men into the fortress, but make sure to keep an ear out if Kim needs any reinforcements at the pass.” 

There’s nods and affirmations from the captains and officers before the commander turns to Youngmin, “I’m sorry for giving you the hardest one, Chief. Can you speak with the higher ups back at the main camp about a punitive measure for the group that got here before us? As far as both Kimsu and I were aware they weren’t supposed to do that, and I’ll bet they’re doing more in there than just routing out the loyalists. If we’re to do anything about that then we’ll need the higher ups permission.” 

While an independently run body from the Crown’s army or guard, the Hwarang still need permission to act under that guise of pseudo-Crown rule and dole out their justice. 

“I’m sure I can do something about it, and if not me, my father,” Youngmin nods, a smile forming as he thinks it over. You’re not sure who Youngmin’s father is, but if his son is the leader of the Hwarang, his position in the Crown’s council must be higher than anyone else’s father in the organization. It would still be tricky to gain that permission with all of the Hwarang naysayers and adversaries within the council.  

“Eunseok, can you go with him?” Jihoon asks and turns to their youngest member, “Someone has to keep an eye on him.” 

“Of course,” He nods, “I’ll do my best.”  

Jihoon smiles wryly at him before turning to the remaining Hwarang. “The rest of you are following me into the fortress and to the Northern Gate. As for you,” he looks directly at you, “You can’t go with Youngmin, but other than that it’s up to you.” 

You know he doesn’t know where to place you. It’s not as if you’re one of the Hwarang he could command to a role and set you there. Maybe having you decide your own fate was a way to take the burden off his shoulders.  

“I’ll go with you, then,” you say after a moment of contemplation. Along with Jihoon, a group of Hwarang, and a group of regular soldiers, you’ll race into Ongsan and try to open the Northern Gate for the King’s garrison to make way into the fortress by suppressing the loyalists inside.  

The groups disperse shortly after, Mingyu and his men heading to the pass, Youngmin and Eunseok leaving for the main camp, Chan and Hansol leaving for the heart of the fortress, and then Jihoon and you making way to the Northern Gate from inside the fortress itself.  

Jihoon, you and the group of soldiers accompanying you race through the fortress. Seeing it from the outside had hidden how expansive it is on the inside, large courtyards and twisting hallways have your mind running in circles as you slowly run out of breath. You come upon another seemingly empty courtyard before stopping in your tracks. There’s someone standing in the middle of it, someone wearing neither Silla nor Baekje armor. In fact, they are dressed more like a noble than a fighter. 

The sun is shining so harshly onto the courtyard as you approach that it’s hard to get a good look at his face. It’s obscured in the sunlight and the light yellow of his robes and the glinting silver of a blade in his hand is doing little to help that. There’s a strange aura surrounding him, almost as if he's waiting for something to happen. 

Jihoon, perceptive to that, motions for everyone to stop before encroaching on the character. The Hwarang stop in their tracks, save for one man too eager or arrogant to follow the commander’s orders and charges towards the figure with his sword out. The stranger seems to have only waved his arm once before the Hwarang falls to the ground, the dull sound of his body hitting the stone below echoing around the courtyard, the clangor of battle raging in the distance. 

“What the hell?!” Junhui shouts out, shoving his way through the throng of Hwarang and over to the fallen man. The man’s unresponsive, a thick pool of blood beginning to stain the ground under him. The rest of the men, first taken aback by the stranger, now glare at him for the loss of their comrade.

“Commander… He was at Wonweol!” You say, finally realizing where you’d seen this man before.

“You’re Hwarang, aren’t you?” The stranger speaks up, his blade tapping against the agate stone of the walkway, “I can tell because of those blue robes of yours.” He sighs out, “A bunch of pretty nobles playing soldier, aren’t you all old enough to know to stop playing pretend?”

The man’s words are enough to make the already on-edge men agitated. Egged on by the harsh ridicule of someone they’d only just come upon. Each Hwarang, either noble or not, had their reason for joining. Taking their choice into question was cruel and that was clearly painted on their faces now. 

“First, you ruin my plans at Wonweol and now you’re trying to play hero,” They snicker, “You’re not even real soldiers, are you?” His gaze travels down to the fallen Hwarang momentarily before lazily and almost arrogantly meeting Jihoon’s eyes, “I’d turn back if I were you, unless you want to end up like your friend here.”

“You’re the swordsman who beat Seungkwan at Wonweol?” Jihoon asks, the tension in the air thick and palpable as he speaks. “I heard you were quite good, but these are pretty big words coming from such a small man.” The smile on the commander’s face is anything but amicable. 

“And I heard that you all were talented, for what you are, but this sorry display is telling me otherwise.” The now adversary snickers, once again glancing at the dying, or maybe he was already dead, Hwarang. “The man I fought at the inn; his name is Seungkwan? It’s a bit of a stretch to call him a real swordsman.”

You know from watching the men train that Seungkwan is skilled with a sword, but he had been injured by this man. Is his prowess with a blade more prolific than the Hwarang captain’s?

“Insult Boo all you want,” Junhui stands from the body of the crumpled soldier to face the stranger, his hand reaching for the sword at his hip. “But why did you kill this man?” The hiss of the steel leaving the sheath cries out as he tears it from the scabbard, the captain’s teeth baring. “If I don’t like your answer then I won’t hesitate to tear you down right here.” 

“How prideful,” you can almost hear him roll his eyes, “The king says for you to ‘Jump’ and you say, ‘How high?’. Why are you chasing after men who’ve deserted their own movement? Or are you trying to let your own men in at the Northern Gate? Either way, your combatants are going to kill themselves before they’ll let you take this place by full force.” 

You glance at Jihoon and the men around him, not even one looking as if the other’s words were outlandish. It seems as if the man in front of you had stopped your assault on the fortress to spare the pride of the Baekje loyalists. From the stranger’s point of view, you can understand what he was doing and why he feels right about it. But that gave him no right to slay one of the Hwarang.  

“Is taking someone’s life for the sake of another’s pride just?” You speak up, distraught from this situation entirely, “The only one who can save your pride is you, not letting that responsibility fall into someone else’s hands.”  

A grin splits onto the other’s face, “There’s some truth in that, I suppose. Are you saying that I should let the Hwarang demolish any pride these men have just to simply gain favor with the Crown?” Despite the curvature of his lips, his voice is not amused.  

“That’s not what I…” The reddish-brown tint of his eyes scrutinizes you as you try to justify yourself, quickly falling away with the harshness of his demeanor.  

“Here I was, thinking you were trying to say something intelligent,” Jihoon steps in once your voice trails off, “but you’re just acting like a child. This is war, not a council meeting debating ethics!” 

“What did you just say?” Knuckles turning white with the newfound grip on his blade, the stranger questions accusingly at Jihoon.  

“The loyalists started a fight knowing their kingdom had been defeated already, and now they’re running away in shame because they’re too cowardly to face the consequence of their actions,” Jihoon argues, a heated tone to his words, “They don’t deserve honor! They’re traitors to their new kingdom by trying to incite a rebellion, you think that deserves an honorable death?” 

“You don’t seem like a coward,” Jihoon states, “So are you ready to accept the consequences of what happens when you kill one of my men?” 

“Those are some big words,” The stranger says as he raises his sword from his lax position, the gore from the fallen Hwarang still clinging to the blade, “Do you really think you can defeat me?” 

The answer isn’t verbal, but a ringing sound as their blades meet. They step back from one another, Jihoon’s grip tightening on his sword as he glares at the other. Now, the commander’s skill seems unrivaled but the thought that this stranger had beaten Seungkwan, the Hwarang’s best swordsman, lingers in the back of your mind as you watch.  

Next to you, you can see Junhui reaching for his own sword. If he were to leap into the fight, it would most certainly help Jihoon gain the upper hand. 

“You can’t,” you say and reach out, your hand falling onto his forearm before he turns to look at you. Meeting and fighting with this stranger aren’t why you and the Hwarang are here. The mission is to aid the forces at the Northern Gate. It isn’t any question whether this man was an enemy, a dangerous one, at that.  

Even if Jihoon can’t defeat him, he would never let the Hwarang abandon their mission, especially after his speech. 

Junhui turns away from you and watches the two men clash for a moment more, gritting his teeth and finally pulling his hand away from his sword. “Lee, I’m going to take your men for a second if that’s okay with you!”  

“Just go already, loudmouth!” Jihoon says as he once again falls away from the stranger, “They’re all yours!” 

“Alright!” Junhui calls out and turns to the men, “We’re heading for the Northern Gate, run straight there and don’t stop until those Baekje bastards have been put in their place!” 

The soldiers roar with a renewed vigor and begin to follow the captain. 

The stranger huffs something out as he watches the men run off, his hand clenching his sword as if he’s about to follow them. 

“You’re not fighting them, so pay attention,” Jihoon calls out to pull the stranger’s focus back to him. “If you don’t, I’ll cut you down from behind instead.”

 “Don’t get in my way!” The stranger shouts, bringing his sword down to meet Jihoon’s, the swing causing Jihoon to reel back once receiving it. 

Now that there is more of a distance between the two, the stranger’s gaze once again travels to Junhui and the running Hwarang. You think for a moment to stop running with the men and try to stand your ground with Jihoon, but relent after a bit, continuing to go further on with the rest of the troops.  

“Keep running!” Jihoon calls out, closing the distance between himself and the stranger, positioning his sword upwards once more.  

“You don’t even know your limit,” The stranger scoffs. 

You stop for a moment, finding yourself unable to keep up with the men and draw your blade instinctively. Knees locking together, your swordsmanship wouldn’t be useful in battle but maybe, just maybe, you can buy the other men some time. 

The next thing you know, a high pitch screech of metal rings out and you’re on the ground. The stranger’s hit had blindsided you, and when your eyes refocus, you see his blade pointing down at you as a trickle of blood runs down your face. 

“That blade…” The stranger murmurs, looking to the steel that had fallen out of your grasp and lay only a foot or two away, “A familiar sight indeed.” Their eyes lock onto yours, “Hey, do you even realize what’s happening? The wound on your face is already starting to heal.” 

Your hand flies to your cheek, fingers brushing over where the cut should have been, but it has already healed. The pain had stopped and the blood had staunched itself. The stranger’s crimson eyes widen.

“Who would’ve thought I’d meet you here. And a female Demon, no less…” His gaze is scrutinizing, “What is your name? And how did you come across this?” 

Before you can answer, a dull clang of metal cries out above you as Jihoon swings his sword from behind while the stranger parries it in front. 

“Get away!” Jihoon shouts out angrily, holding his sword, ready to strike again. 

“Bastard, stay out of my way!” 

“I’m the one you’re fighting!” Jihoon reiterates, “Or do you only prey on the weak? I didn’t take you for a bully.” 

“How dare you, you monarchist dog,” The stranger near growls out as Jihoon looks at you. 

“Go on ahead!” He says and suddenly, energy jolts through you.

You scramble off of the ground reaching for your sword, urgency picking up your feet as you begin to dash away. Even if Jihoon had been there, you don’t think he’d seen your cut heal, at least you hope he hadn’t.

Demon. One of us.

The words of the stranger reverberate around your head as you run, but you can’t dwell on it now as you run to catch up with Junhui and the other men. 

By the time you and the rest of the Hwarang make it to the Northern Gates, it seems as if the King’s garrison had broken through already. There’re skirmishes happening all around the entrance but are soon quelled by the introduction of the Hwarang into the fight. Jihoon hadn’t arrived as the battles waned to a close and the sun began to sink down into the sky. Several higher ups order a few of the captains to look for any remaining loyalists in the compound, leaving you to stand and wait for a sign of the commander or a returning captain. 

“I’m sure they’ll be back soon,” a voice says to your right. You’re met with the face of Officer Jeon, or Wonwoo as you’ve come to learn. Like Chan, he acts as a spy for the Hwarang but typically deals with Yamato forces, but he had accompanied the men to Ongsan this time, only showing how much more this mission meant to the Hwarang. “I know they will.”

You can only nod your head in response and scan the area, looking for one of the faces you hope to see return. Every passing moment feels like an eternity, slowly inching by as the sun sinks lower and lower into the sky. 

 It’s dusk when you see a figure emerge from the depths of the fortress, the darkening sky obscuring most of their features, but as they near the now lit courtyard you stand in, you can see that it’s a familiar face. 

“Commander!” You shout out and race over to him, relief flooding your system. 

“I’m glad to see you’re alright,” Wonwoo says, following closely behind you as you stop in front of Jihoon. “It doesn't even look like you’ve been hurt.” 

In the light of the fires, you can see that the Hwarang hadn’t been injured, but he wears a dark expression over his face. 

“I hoped we would have a real fight, but it looks like it was over almost as soon as you all arrived,” he frowns, “held up by a Hwarang opposer, no less.”

“Who was he?” Wonwoo asks, tilting his head slightly. 

“His name is Hong Jisoo. I don’t know if his father’s a part of the council or if he’s just a lackey under one of them, but he’s clearly very anti-us.” 

“But if he’s still working under Silla rule, why did he try to stop us from going after Baekje?” You question, confused by the swordsman’s actions, weren’t both sides there to stop the loyalists? Something about this isn’t settling right with you. “Does that mean he was betraying Silla?” 

“I don’t know about that, but I do think he was trying to stop us from getting here,” Jihoon sighs out, closing his eyes as if to recall the situation, “The soldiers who broke us up were also confused by whatever game he was trying to play. But they didn’t try to command him to do anything after we’d stopped fighting, so he must have meant something to them.” 

“He must have some notoriety in their ranks, then,” Wonwoo muses. 

“He’s a lazy piece of shit who uses his rank or his money to do whatever he wants, more like,” Jihoon says with a bitter edge to his voice. “If he flaunts that around he has no right to try and teach me what his definition of pride is.” 

Before Jihoon can ramble and rant about Jisoo, Junhui and the detachment of men he’d left with returns to the battle site. Junhui stops for a moment upon seeing the commander before breaking out into a large grin. The smile doesn’t last long though as he approaches, the curvature of his grin turning downwards.

 “We found a few runaways, but they were already dying or dead by the time we got there.” At Junhui’s words you feel your heart drop. It’s not that you were sad that the loyalists were dead or that the Hwarang hadn’t been able to capture any one of them, only that more lives had been lost in the conflict.  

“Honorable suicide, then?” Jihoon nods, not sounding angry at the result. “Good for them.”

 “Good?” You ask without thinking, how is that ‘good’? Only hours prior the commander was trying to stop the loyalists from succeeding in that mission, but now that it’s been done he’s lauding them. 

“You don’t understand,” the commander says and looks towards you. “As Hwarang, this isn’t good for us. We failed and let them kill themselves. They’re dead, what good would it be for me to ignore what they’ve done? It doesn’t matter if they’re an enemy or my friend, a man who dies with his honor intact deserves at least some respect.” 

“I guess that makes some sense…” You mutter, not fully understanding the reasoning or what he was trying to convey.  

His expression softens slightly, “The longer you stay with us, the more you’re likely to understand our mindset.” 

Now that this group has come back together, you make your way to the campsite to meet with the rest of the Hwarang you’d parted ways with that morning.  

The event of the loyalist takeover of Ongsan and their eventual expulsion from the fortress comes to be known as the Ongsan Rebellion to the citizens of Silla. And while the Hwarang had been called to action, their efforts were stymied with unforeseen circumstances and were able to find little in the way of gaining major approval with the Crown. Communication with the King’s garrison and the army alongside him had been poor and much of the Hwarang’s time had been spent waiting for battle with the rest of the reserve troops. 

And even when they were called to arms, the Hwarang found a strange opponent at every turn:  

Hong Jisoo, who had defeated Seungkwan at Wonweol, had claimed to be a member of the pro-Watch camp of the council during his encounter with Jihoon. It still isn’t determined who his family is and why his stance is so firmly against the Hwarang. 

Hwan Minhyun, the man who had injured Soonyoung at Wonweol was also in attendance at the battle. While little more is known about him, he had claimed to be in allegiance with Hong Jisoo. 

And then there was Xu Minghao, who also fought along with the prior two men with little mention of his full allegiance.  

Whoever these men are, it’s clear to see that they’re no allies of the Hwarang. In fact, it seems as if they’re set to become one of their greatest enemies.  

The battle claimed the lives of thousands of men, the king ordering his garrison to behead any survivors they found. Even then, some Baekje loyalists were able to escape westward, further into the territory that used to be their homeland. With the end of the Ongsan Rebellion, the king passes an edict labeling any man that fought alongside the Baekje loyalists to be branded a traitor in the eyes of the Crown and an enemy of the court.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 8𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 With the events of the raid on Wonweol Inn and the Ongsan Rebellion taking place within only a few short weeks of one another, it was causing a certain unrest to take hold within citizens of Silla. The Hwarang are doing their best to double up on their work to make citizens feel protected, but with the return of most of the Guard and Watch, it’s difficult for them to receive missions as big as the raids and rebellion had been. And even if they are assigned a task, the Crown overworks them, seemingly wanting to bleed them dry.  

The Crown’s approval of any of their missions spreads them thin, even with the newer recruits they’d received from Podang and Gochang, it isn’t enough to keep an appropriate amount of people to instill peace. After many long and arduous meetings, it’s decided that Soonyoung, to slowly introduce him back into his role after his injury, will travel to Hanseong, one of Silla’s northernmost cities, to do preliminary scouting for future recruits.  

The burning sun hits your face as Youngmin and you see Soonyoung off, a bag slung around his shoulder having been packed the night prior.  

“I’ll be on my way now,” The Hwarang nods at the two of you, “Make sure no one gets in trouble while I’m away!” 

“I’ll try my best,” you smile at him. His presence would be missed at the headquarters, even if the other men didn’t want to acknowledge it. 

 “Find us a solid list of men, it doesn’t matter if they’re nobles or not,” Youngmin notes, putting his hand under his chin for a moment. “But seeing as it’s Gochang, you might encounter more nobles there than usual. I’ll join you there next month to see who you’ve recruited.” 

“Isn’t there someone who you’re looking for?” You turn to Youngmin, “I remember you mentioning someone once.” 

“Oh, did we not tell you?” Youngmin sounds a tad miffed, “His name is Kim Gongmyung. Classically trained and the rumor is that he’s very well versed in strategy.”  

“To be honest, I haven’t met him but only once or twice,” Soonyoung relents, “But at the least I’m sure he’ll let me speak to him.” 

“That’s all we need,” Youngmin nods with a small smile, “His father’s on our side in the king’s council, and if we approach him kindly, I’m sure it’ll be within his interest to help us.” The leader seems confident just by his facial expression, but there’s an air of unsureness coming from the younger Hwarang.  

“Alright, I’m going!” He lets that discontentment fall from his features seconds later, nodding his head before speaking. Soonyoung then turns to you, “I’ll do my best to find any information on Heo while I’m there, so just hang on until I get back!”

“Be careful!” You call out to him as he turns on his heels, bounding out from the main hall and towards the exit. As you watch him leave, and the smaller he seems to get the further he is from you and Youngmin, the more melancholy you feel. Youngmin looks different though, a small smile residing on his face as he watches the Hwarang set out. “You look excited, are you thinking of all the new members you’re getting?” 

“Of course, seeing our numbers increase is great. Even more so if they’re strong and able,” he says as Soonyoung finally disappears outside of the main entrance.  

𝔖𝔢𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔪𝔟𝔢𝔯 27𝔱𝔥, 661 - 𝔖𝔢𝔬𝔯𝔞𝔟𝔢𝔬𝔩, 𝔎𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔡𝔬𝔪 𝔬𝔣 𝔖𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔞 Time passes quickly after Soonyoung’s departure. So fast that the date of Youngmin’s departure for Hanseong arrives with little resistance. The morning before he’s meant to depart, you find him standing in one of the compound’s courtyards, quietly watching the wind pass through the leaves overhead. 

“Is everything alright?” You ask as you approach him quietly, not wanting to startle him.

 “Hm, oh, hello,” he looks at you with a small smile, “I’m alright, are you doing okay?” 

“I am,” you nod, “I’m just thinking about how you’re leaving tomorrow.” 

“I see,” he says with a short chuckle, “I can’t leave Soonyoung alone for too long, can I? Who knows what sort of trouble he’s already found himself in?” 

“I’m sure your absence here is going to affect the men like Soonyoung’s is,” you sigh out, already knowing the feeling of having such a pivotal character of the captains gone for nearly a month now. Youngmin is the Hwarang’s leader. If anything, this will be a larger blow than Soonyoung’s departure.

 “It’s only a month,” he tries to reassure you, “I’ve been gone for longer before. And besides, Jihoon will make sure everything runs smoothly while I’m away.” Youngmin probably isn’t aware that his kindness and Soonyoung’s strange but bright personality were things that kept you mentally intact day after day here. With both absent from the headquarters, you’re not sure what kind of emotional blow it’ll have on you. 

Your discontentment with the situation must have placated itself on your face because Youngmin looks at you now with a sad, small smile.  

“Is there anything you want me to bring back for you?” He questions in hopes that it might make you feel better, “I’m going to stop in Toehwa-hyeon on my way back, did you want a memento from your hometown?” 

“Oh no,” you shake your head, grateful for his offer, “You don’t have to worry about me.”

 “Are you sure?” Youngmin pushes a little more, “If there’s anything I can do for you, and as long as it’s within my power, I will.” You don’t want to ask any more of him, he’s so accommodating already that you’d just feel wrong in asking him to bring you something. 

“There is one thing…” You pause for a moment, “Could you train me?” 

“Are you-?” Youngmin’s brow furrows as he thinks of your statement, “Are you talking about fighting?”

 “I am,” you nod quickly.

 “Oh no… I think that would be a bad idea,” he sounds cautious, tentative, “I get really aggressive when I teach, if I ended up injuring you, I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself.” 

“I see…” You probably sound defeated, your shoulders shrugging downwards at his words.  

“But that statement came out of nowhere… Did you have a reason for asking?” 

“If I’m going to help watch over Shoshin while you’re gone, I want to be able to instead of hiding while everyone else puts in the effort.” 

Youngmin chuckles nervously at that sentiment, “But you’re not one of the warriors, so I doubt you’d ever have to raise your sword to an enemy.” 

“You’re right, but I still want to be able to protect myself if something were to happen,” you insist gently, trying to sound as reasonable as possible. 

Youngmin mulls it over for a moment before perking up into a smile, “Well, if that’s the case, I’d love to teach you a few things.” 

The leader runs around for a moment, returning to you with a pair of practice swords and two cords so you can tie up your sleeves without getting hindered by them. Rather than use the traditional wooden practice swords of the Hwarang, Youngmin’s opted for the lighter bamboo variant as to not accidentally injure you with the splintery cousin.  

“Let’s start,” he says as he stands beside you, his own bamboo sword raised outwards. “I’ll warn you though, the style we teach at the Kwak school and the Hwarang are a little… arduous.”  

“I’m ready,” you state firmly and raise your own bamboo sword out to the open space in front of you. 

“Then let’s begin with your stance,” he says, looking towards your feet with a scrutinizing gaze, “You mentioned you’d trained before, right?” 

“It was mostly for self-defense, but I was taught how to use the blade I have with me,” you say as you look down to your feet, trying to position them correctly.  

“Then I won’t have to worry about teaching you a new form,” he notes, “Just get into the stance you’re most comfortable with.” 

With the smooth grip of the practice sword in hand, you fall back into the stance you have memorized from all your practice sessions. Your hold on the hilt of the weapon tightens as you await instruction.  

“Too weak!” Youngmin shouts out, different from the calm tone his voice typically carries. “If someone’s coming from your front to attack you, the first thing they’ll reach is your sword and your arm. Tighten your grip more or they’ll knock the sword right out of your hand, be wary of that.” 

“Okay!” You nod and try to hold onto the sword even tighter, the knuckles on your hand beginning to ache with the strain. It was somewhat endearing to know that he isn’t treating you any differently because you’re a girl. 

“Now you’re holding on too tight,” he notices the tremble from the overworked muscles of your hand, watching the fake blade quiver in the air. “Because you’ll be a bit weaker than most you’ll ever fight against, you should try your best to avoid someone attacking you from the front. To do that you’ll need to dodge or redirect the blow from their sword, but since you’re holding onto it so tightly…” 

You’re not sure how much time has passed since Youngmin had begun his instruction, but the sun is hanging low in the sky now as you try and retain everything, he’s been teaching you. 

“It’s getting late.” He muses after you finish swinging the sword for what feels like the thousandth time. It’s cause enough for you to look up at the reds, oranges and purples that are beginning to saturate the sky. And almost as if you’re pulled from your training, fatigue sets into your bones and causes you to collapse to your knees. Your limbs shake with exhaustion, clothes dampened with sweat, your breath hollow as you try to suck in more air than your lungs allow you. 

Youngmin looks over to you as you collapse, his stern expression from training you softening to one of concern. “I’m sorry!” He says, a panicked tone overtaking him, “I got so into it that I pushed you way too hard!”

 “I’m fine,” you breathe out, offering him a weak smile, “You ended up teaching me like that even though I’m not your student, thank you.”  

“I see,” he doesn’t sound fully convinced, but the worried edge to his voice subsides a bit, “If that’s how you feel then I’m glad I could help.” His face holds a mixture of guilt and hesitation, though, “I am sorry, I haven’t fully trained someone in years, and I suppose I went a little overboard.” 

“You mean before you became the Hwarang’s leader?” You ask as you shakily rise to your feet. 

“Right,” he nods with a nostalgic smile, “Jihoon, Seungkwan, and Eunseok all attended my family’s school. Seungcheol, Soonyoung, Junhui and Mingyu joined us afterwards, Hansol never fully joined but would stop by often. We don’t have time for it now, but we used to test our skills out against each other nearly every day.” 

The topic of the ‘old days’ often came up when the captains were tipsy or drunk on their alcohol. Youngmin’s father had been high up in the Crown’s council when he was alive, but later left to start up his own fighting school, much like Lee Alcheon had done. 

“All of that training must’ve been tough,” you wonder aloud. 

“It was,” Youngmin nods in agreement, “But it was fulfilling, in a different way than what our work is now.” He gazes off into nothing as he reminisces, causing a pang of envy to invade you for a moment.  

“Earlier you said you weren’t my student,” Youngmin says, looking at you, “Since I am technically a master of my family’s school, and I spent today training you… I think that more or less makes you a disciple of the style as well. That would make you a student like a few of the captains.” 

His words cause a smile to break out on your face, “Thank you.” Obviously, it isn’t an official method, and it was hardly a full day’s worth of instruction, but it made an unbridled happiness bubble within you. “I’m so grateful for what you’ve taught me today.”

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