Page 60 of Reign of the Talon
Higher and higher I go. It is a painstaking process, but one that is necessary. I wish to avoid those fireforged arrows as much as possible, and since we lack the element of surprise, many are now trained on that western edge.
When I finally reach the top of the Beast Wall, I am panting, muscles burning and my left leg threatening to buckle. Spikes are spaced three feet apart each on the top’s edge, and I must be careful to avoid them as I drop onto the wall’s passage. No soldiers are here. It worked—they mistook Bomin as myself; they think I am already inside the capital.
I only need to amble a little further down the wall to find a Dokkaebi soldier, far apart from the others. It doesn’t take long to disarm her, drag her to the edge, hold her by the waist, and jump off the edge, the ground hurtling toward us.
And it doesn’t take long for her to panic and open up that corridor of shadow. I grin as I enter it with her, and as it spits us back out onto the ground, in the middle of Sanyeongto.
Sanyeongto. Wyusan’s treasured capital.
The Dokkaebi attempts to rush me; I dispose of her quickly.
For all this fuss about Sanyeongto, the alleyway I have emerged in has little to note. The giwajips of the capital are made of thick wood, and the roads are paved with brown stones. Trees still grow heavily in this city, towering pines sprouting up through the pavements in the most random areas. I move through the sector quickly—little fighting is happening here.
It is the western part of Sanyeongto that demands my attention. There, my Imugi fight the Wyusan-Gyeulcheon alliance. The western sector is a pit of carnage, a pit of frenzied fighting. I am all too eager to join in, to hear the frightened shouts of—
“IT’S HER! SHE’SHERE—”
Music to my ears, truly.
And the Battle of Sanyeongto thus begins in earnest.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Iseul
Three days.
The Battle of Sanyeongto has been unceasing forthree whole days.
Iseul’s face hurts from how perpetually she has been wrinkling her nose. This terrible sickbay is close to overflowing with the wounded and dying. Thesmellywounded and dying.
Seojin rushes from patient to patient, dragging Iseul along with him, and does the most unforgiveable deed. Hedemands that she help him.
At first, she refuses, out of basic principle, but eventually the boredom wears her down. It is clear that many of these soldiers will not be fighting again. She loses nothing by popping off vials’ corks for Seojin with her teeth or holding down screaming victims as he scrapes off the affected flesh and cauterizes the wounds.
Truly. Being chained to Seojin isdull. All he does is work and occasionally eat or sleep. Once, perhaps, Iseul wouldn’t have minded spending all her nights with Ryu Seojin. Especially in such close quarters. Who knows? Perhaps the handcuffs could have been a nice little touch, adding somepassion, if you will. Now, though, Iseul drives her elbow into his stomach when he snores too loud, grinds her teeth when he rolls over in his sleep and drags her with him, and practically loses her mind when he steals the blankets.
Which is every.
Other.
Minute.
Since that horrible day where she learned of the 43rd Division, Iseul has steadfastly attempted escape all of five times.
Each time, Seojin grabbed her by one of her nine tails as she thrashed, holding her far out enough that she couldn’t reach him, and kept her like that until she got a headache and was forced to shift back to her human form.
Now, she seethes as he yanks her to patient after patient, each with wounds worse than the ones before. Seethes as they spend hours breathing in the pungent smell of the sickbay, the stench of rot and blood.
At least the sickbay’s inhabitants give her clues as to what is happening on the Sanyeongto battlefield. The wounded moan their stories, cursing the “Snake-Witch,” as they’ve taken to calling her. Lina’s forces strive to cut their way from the western edge to the northern edge, where the palace lies. Having entered from the western edge, the army has now reached the northwestern sector of the capital. Yet not without much effort—more effort than Iseul expected this siege to take.
It’s likely due to that Dokkaebi emperor of hers. Word of their unfortunate joining has reached Iseul’s ears. Oh, it’s so inconvenient she couldcry. Lina cannot kill the emperor without killing herself, and the pair seems to be stuck in some strange duet, where they dance around each other yet cannot harm.
Seojin has hauled her over to Ijun’s bed. The woman is not doing well, and Iseul can tell that her time is soon. Usually, this wouldn’t bother her in the slightest, but for some terribly foolish reason, Iseul has been unable to stop mulling over the 43rd Division, unable to stop feeling ill at the thought of it.
Part of her hates them. What is the use of trying if you fail? Yet another part of her is almostuncomfortablewith this new knowledge.
Humans, fighting back against the Fox Hunt?
