Vol 1 Chapter 1 – Heukcheon Pt 6

“Did Master tell you to do this?”

“N-no, of course not.”

The Third Overseer quickly shook his head, but the tremble in his voice and the unease on his face betrayed him.

Even while thinking it unfair that Kang Oh was pressing him this hard, he kept his lips sealed. The true power in Heukcheon was Master, and the Third Overseer was his man. If he could keep the secret and avoid immediate execution, he still believed the Lord might show mercy. That sliver of self-justification lingered, and the fear of death made him react to Kang Oh’s prodding.

There was no doubt about it. Kang Oh had already suspected everything from the start. He had not been waiting for an explanation, but for a reaction he could use as confirmation.

The Third Overseer was stunned. In terms of age, Kang Oh was not even half his years. And yet, how could his mind be so sharp and calculating?

“So it was true after all.”

Kang Oh murmured while running his fingers along the hilt of Dan-sa. The one who truly bore responsibility for this situation was someone else. And the fact that it was Master left a bitter knot in his chest.

Why? Why would he do this?

“P-please, just do not tell the Lord. I beg you. I am but a lowly servant who failed to carry out his task properly. He will punish me without mercy.”

“Did Master order you to drive Woo to that point?”

“N-no, there was never such an order. Not even once.”

Even though his earlier panic had already exposed the truth, the Third Overseer continued to insist otherwise.

Kang Oh moved as if to draw Dan-sa once more. The Third Overseer gasps and ducked down.

“It is the truth. I swear. The Lord merely showed displeasure toward the servant Woo. That was all. I assumed his intentions and punished Woo in the Lord’s place.”

“What a laughable excuse. According to you, Master gave no direct order, which makes him blameless, while you acted of your own accord based on your reading of his mind.”

Kang Oh’s voice sank low. He had long sensed the negligence. He had simply closed his eyes to it, not wanting to be disappointed in his master.

Master had taken him in when he had no one. He had given him a name, a surname, and though he called himself a master, it was no different than welcoming Kang Oh as family. Kang Oh knew this. He had no memories, no past. He had been an empty shell. And yet, Master had cared for him, had given him wisdom, knowledge, and the ability to live as he did now.

It was Yae Jinrang who had made him who he was. So he didn’t want to doubt him. He didn’t want to feel betrayed.

But if the one he revered as a lifelong benefactor and beloved master bore fault, then he could not turn away from it.

“There is something I need you to do.”

Kang Oh spoke with his calm voice, masking the hollowness within.

“Of course. Anything.”

The Third Overseer bowed deeply.

—

Woo had been busy since morning, moving about, when an unexpected figure appeared.

The Third Overseer.

He hadn’t expected the man to show up so soon. There was still food left. From what Woo knew of the Third Overseer’s temperament, he had assumed the man would wait several days, letting him eat sand-filled rice until his stomach turned and his body folded in pain, only to show up then and throw a sack of rotten potatoes at him.

“Th-Third Overseer.”

Woo dropped the bundle of sticks in his arms and knelt quickly. He had grown used to being beaten, but he wasn’t foolish enough to offer himself up for it. The Third Overseer could raise a hand over the smallest excuse. It was safer not to give him even a fingernail’s worth of reason. Getting knocked unconscious again on this mountain could be fatal.

More than anything, Kang Oh was nearby.
He didn’t want to get slapped around in front of that man again, and force-fed medicine.

The Third Overseer cleared his throat.

Woo remained where he was, head bowed, not daring to look up.

“G-get up.”

“Pardon? Yes…”

He rose at once. In his rush, he stumbled slightly and instinctively shut his eyes, expecting a slap to follow. Slowness often earned him a hit.

But no matter how long he waited, no blow came.

Was this not a punishment, but…
a sign that he was about to be cast out?

Again, the Third Overseer cleared his throat.

Woo opened his eyes, confused by the man’s constant throat-clearing. He had always looked up at him from the ground. Seeing the Overseer’s face at eye level felt strange. The man’s expression was difficult to read, but something about it seemed troubled.

Woo gave up trying to understand and lowered his gaze again.

“I brought supplies.”

“Y-yes.”

“Use them well.”

“I understand.”

The Third Overseer stood still, as if something else was on his mind. Woo couldn’t figure it out. The man wasn’t hitting him or shouting. He just stood there in silence. That alone was unsettling. He had always punished without pause, and Woo had always received it without resistance.

“Is there anything… troubling you?”

“Pardon?”

Woo raised his head in surprise, then quickly lowered it again.

“N-no, not at all. Thanks to the Lord of Heukcheon’s grace…”

“Enough… Enough…” The third Overseer waved his hand and turned away.

“I’ll be going.”

“Y-yes… p-please travel sa…”

Before Woo could finish his bow, the Third Overseer added something, as if suddenly remembering.

“You may rest. No need to rush with the woodcutting.”

Then he turned and walked away, clearly irritated. The strange part was that he left even his horse behind. Woo wanted to ask, “What about the horse?” but the man had already leapt into the trees, vanishing with a flash.

It was bizarre. The Third Overseer had always been sensitive about his unimpressive martial skills and rarely displayed them. He almost never used martial arts in public, not even gyeonggong. And now he had not only delivered supplies, but also left his horse?

Everything about it felt wrong.

Woo hesitated as he approached the horse the Third Overseer had left behind. All kinds of things were packed onto it. Only now did he understand why the man had brought a horse instead of carrying everything by hand.

Though rough, the wool blankets were thick and well-made. There were no luxury goods, but items even a low-ranking warrior would find useful: wound ointment, fever medicine, two sacks of grain free of sand, a bundle of jerky, two sets of clothing including undergarments, a small utility knife with many possible uses, a pair of finely carved chopsticks, three or four intact bowls, and a sturdy-looking axe along with a sharpening stone.

There was even a cheap bottle of rice wine dangling from the horse’s side.

Woo was not an idiot.

Kang Oh… Kang Oh… how could you…

A sigh almost escaped his lips, but he gritted his teeth and swallowed it down.

Looking back, the Third Overseer had acted like a frightened man. He had stammered. He kept clearing his throat each time Woo bowed. His movements had been stiff and hesitant, like someone was watching him.

It was impossible not to understand it.

Because Woo moved the same way when Kang Oh was near.

Somewhere, Kang Oh was watching. It was him who had prepared all of this.

There were blankets to keep warm at night, the wound ointment he had refused to accept, the fever medicine he had needed just the night before. The grain was clean, without sand. The jerky could be stored for a long time. And seeing the chopsticks and bowls, it was clear he even knew about the clumsily carved spoon and chipped bowl Woo had been using.

He must have noticed the lack of spare clothing too. Woo had been forced to stay naked while waiting for his only set to dry. Seeing the fresh garments packed with care, he could not help but recall the day they reunited. He had been standing in front of Kang Oh with nothing on.

Even the small knife was likely added after seeing his hands scratched and torn from breaking branches barehanded.

And then there was the axe. Not the finest quality, but solidly made.

None of these were extravagant or expensive. Everything was reasonable, sturdy, and useful. That, too, must have been deliberate. Kang Oh must have seen him ignoring the fine axe he had once left stuck in a tree stump. He must have figured that if the Third Overseer returned with high-end gear, Woo would be suspicious and refuse to use it. So he prepared accordingly.

Clutching the fresh blanket that smelled of neither mold nor rot, Woo bit down on his lower lip. Strangely enough, the tear ducts that had long dried up… began to stir.

Why the wine, of all things?

Woo swallowed his tears, but now that the sorrow had passed, he almost laughed out of disbelief. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had smiled, let alone made anything close to a real expression.

His lips twitched awkwardly. He kept touching his face as if trying to fix it. Kang Oh was probably still watching. It was enough if he remained the foolish servant in his eyes.

He began unpacking what Kang Oh had sent. The medicine was set gently inside the hut. The moldy blanket was laid across the floor, and the new bedding placed on top of it to block the chill rising from the ground. If he wrapped himself in that blanket, he might even get through a freezing night in peace. The clean grain was placed beside the sandy rice. The jerky was tied and hung from the rafters. Leaving it on the floor would only invite ants. The knife and utensils could be washed later by the stream. The rest of the supplies were sorted and set aside in quiet focus.

Someone was watching him. He could feel it in the way the wind shifted. Eyes followed the way his dark hair moved with each step.

“Was that too obvious?”

Kang Oh murmured under his breath. Each time Woo paused while unpacking, it became more obvious he had noticed something.

To avoid being seen, Kang Oh had climbed to the upper branches of a tree. The one beneath his feet was no thicker than a child’s arm, yet he stood effortlessly. Years of internal training had honed his body until it carried almost no weight at all. His balance was light and steady, like a bird in flight. And in combat, that same technique could shift in an instant, delivering a blow as heavy as a mountain. It was called Cheongeunchu.

He looked at the hut.

“Should I just tear that damn thing down?”

Even the sight of it irritated him.

He could not go against Master openly, which made Woo’s exile feel like a twisted kind of grace. At least it created distance. Still, that did nothing to ease the frustration pressing in on him. He could not confront his master directly, so he tried to help Woo in other ways. Comfort. Warmth. A chance to breathe.

He had said he would face things properly, but now, just watching Woo look content over something so small made something coil tightly in his chest.

Was Woo really someone who could be satisfied so easily?

No.
Perhaps he had simply been forced to become that way.

After all, the environment that had shaped him…
had been nothing short of cruel.

Kang Oh ran a hand through his hair. It felt dry with wind and sweat.

If he was going to visit his master, he’d have to leave the area for a while. That’s why he had given the Third Overseer a long list of instructions and had everything delivered.

He’d wanted to make up for all the shortcomings he’d observed around Wu. Only then would he feel okay about leaving.

But instead of easing his mind, it made him feel even more stifled. Kang Oh couldn’t quite understand what this emotion was.

He felt like if he stayed just a bit longer,
maybe he’d figure it out.

But the Third Overseer had already returned to Heukcheon. It was time to follow. If he arrived before Master had time to prepare his answers, he might still catch a glimpse of the truth.

“Stay safe.”

The words slipped out quietly, meant only for himself. Then, like mist fading into the forest, Kang Oh disappeared into the mountain’s darkness.

Once both the Third Oversee and Kang Oh were gone, Woo’s days grew more lively. He had told himself he wouldn’t use anything sent by Kang Oh, but that determination melted away before he knew it. A wry smile crept onto his face as he excused the compromise by reminding himself it was the Third Overseer who had delivered it.

Thanks to the burn ointment, the wound on his arm had nearly healed. His back was still an issue. He couldn’t reach it well enough to apply the medicine properly, so he just smeared it near the injury and left it at that. Still, it felt like the healing had begun.

The tools brought convenience he hadn’t realized he needed. Chopping wood, something that once drained him and demanded constant caution, became faster and more manageable with the new axe. When the blade grew dull, he just ran it across the whetstone, and it was as good as new.

As the days passed, the trees he needed to cut stood farther from the hut. Dragging the logs back grew more exhausting, until he began to use the horse. At first, he hadn’t understood why the Third Overseer had delivered a horse along with the supplies. But now it was clear. Kang Oh must have anticipated how difficult it would be for someone with a lame leg to haul firewood. The horse wasn’t a common pack mule either. Judging by its build and gait, it was well-bred, clearly not meant for this kind of work.

Feeding it became the next concern. Water was simple. He just led it to the stream. But a body that large needed more than water and the occasional tuft of grass. Thankfully, the mountain was thick with overgrowth. With few travelers nearby, Woo let the horse graze deep in the brush during the day. At night, he tied it near the hut and set out food and water within reach.

He thought of Kang Oh and couldn’t help smiling. This must have been one of his blind spots. Someone who had never cared for a horse likely assumed sending one was enough. He had packed food for Woo but hadn’t considered what the animal might need.

Woo had once been the same. In his former life, he never questioned how things were done. He waited in comfort while others prepared the world around him. He had lived as a pampered young master, sheltered and spoiled. Now, seeing that same thoughtlessness in Kang Oh didn’t frustrate him. It felt warm. Familiar. Human.

It was easy to see why Jinrang had cherished Kang Oh so much. That part made sense. If you spent your life believing you were alone, and then suddenly a blood relative appeared, how could you not feel overjoyed?

Woo’s story had unfolded in the opposite direction. He had believed he belonged by blood, only to discover he was an imposter in someone else’s lineage. That truth had crushed whatever pride or dignity he still held. What remained in the place burned away in that blazing fire was nothing but the commands and stubbornness of a man once called noble.

After sending the supplies, Kang Oh never returned. Woo never expected him to. A servant like him didn’t deserve even this much. He told himself he wasn’t disappointed. He worked hard not to be. What Kang Oh had done was already more than he had ever hoped for.

Now, all he wished was for Kang Oh to live well. To embrace the life that was rightfully his and find happiness in the place he belonged.

Taking a break from chopping firewood, Woo set down the axe and wiped the sweat from his brow. He no longer had to worry about soaked clothing. Now he could wash and change daily. For someone as naturally tidy as he was, not being able to clean his garments used to gnaw at him. Though he had slowly learned to endure it, being able to do laundry again felt like a return to life. Even during the harshest winters, he had survived day to day. Compared to that, this felt like a dream.

Meals had improved too. He gathered wild herbs from the mountain, separating the bitter ones and using the rest to flavor broth. A bit of jerky added to porridge gave it just enough richness. In a life where seasoning was once a luxury he never imagined, these simple meals now carried warmth and comfort. His body, once so picky and frail, was finally satisfied. Everything seemed to be going well. Almost suspiciously well. It felt like ten years’ worth of good fortune had arrived all at once.

Lying beneath a warm blanket, Woo slowly closed his eyes.

Late that night, the sudden cry of a horse broke the silence.

“Hiiing!”

The noise roused Woo from sleep. The sound of hooves striking the ground carried an edge of unease.

When he looked outside, he saw glowing yellow eyes in the dark. A predator was stalking the frightened horse.

Damn it.

He let out a curse through his teeth.

There were signs all around him. Trampled grass. Torn herbs. During the day, the horse must have wandered too far and eaten the wild herbs Woo had planted to repel predators. He had been careless. The mountain had grown too quiet, and he had let his guard down.

Despite his bad leg, Woo moved fast. He headed straight for the fire. His speed was almost superhuman.

The horse’s cry rang out. The wolves had clearly realized the horse was tied and couldn’t escape.

He could hear the wet, crunching sound of flesh being torn.

Thankfully, the campfire had not gone out and was still burning. Woo picked up a piece of firewood with flames still clinging to it.

The three wolves that had charged the horse already had blood dripping from their mouths. The loyal horse, which had carried all his belongings, trembled in all four legs before going limp.

The situation was dire. He was alone, and wolves moved in packs. These three might not be the only ones. And they might wouldn’t be content with just a single horse.

Woo held the burning log like a sword. His stance, though crude, still carried traces of the sword training he once had.

Two of the wolves were too absorbed in feeding to pay him any mind, but the third seemed interested in the living man. Its blood-smeared muzzle turned toward him.

It scratched at the ground as if ready to leap, but seemed to hesitate, wary of the fire in Woo’s hands.

There was another one behind him.

Sensing the presence at his back, Woo turned swiftly and struck the lunging wolf with the burning log. If not for the martial training he had once received, that wolf would have torn into his throat.

Another wolf, from across the campfire, lunged toward him, perhaps to avenge its fallen companion. He managed to block that second attack as well.

His chest rose and fell, cold sweat ran down his back. His body could still perform the forms he had once mastered, but there was no power left behind them. His inner energy had long since scattered, and the imbalance in his leg made every action feel like dragging dead weight.