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Kang-soe fully expected to part ways with Yeom-gon once the trail widened.

He had intentionally waited three full days after their separation in the previous village before setting out, yet here was the man again, scarcely a few miles down the road. Staring blankly at each other on the narrow forest path felt awkwardly intimate, so Kang-soe tossed out a passing remark.

“Did you also have business in this area, my lord?”

Yeom-gon offered a soft smile and replied that fate had merely intertwined their paths again.

Fate?

The very word made Kang-soe’s skin crawl with embarrassment. He vigorously scratched the back of his neck. His body felt itchy and sticky; he desperately wanted to douse himself in cold water. Since they were navigating a mountain trail, he hoped to find a babbling brook to plunge into. Whether Yeom-gon sensed this desire or not, the tall man simply continued walking ahead.

The shrill chirping of cicadas was deafening, and the blinding sunlight felt violent. The waist-high brush scraping against his skin only intensified the itching. Even with Yeom-gon forging ahead and trampling the foliage, the overgrowth was so dense it hardly made a difference.

After trudging for a long while, exhausted and starving, Kang-soe called out to halt his companion. “My lord. My body is crawling with an unbearable itch. I need to douse myself in water before I can go any further.” He politely suggested Yeom-gon go on ahead if he was in a hurry, but the response he received was entirely unhelpful.

“My word, my good man.”

“I know it sounds absurd for a ginseng gatherer to suffer from a grass rash, but whether I was bitten by a bug or poisoned by a weed, my calves, thighs, back, and chest are itching so fiercely I might die. Maybe I sweat so much I developed a heat rash. Regardless, I just need to wash off in cold water and rest for a bit, so please, go on ahead.”

“A ginseng gatherer?”

“Yes, a root digger.”

Completely ignoring the suggestion to go on ahead, Yeom-gon latched onto the profession, asking about it as if it were a fascinating novelty. Had Kang-soe not mentioned this before?

“I dig up medicinal herbs and wild ginseng.”

At Kang-soe’s explanation, the man claimed it was the first he was hearing of it. But wasn’t the ignorance mutual?

“Well, I haven’t heard a word about your life either, my lord, so I suppose that makes us even.”

What would a noble like you do with my life story anyway? Answering curtly, Kang-soe returned his full attention to furiously scratching his back. Yeom-gon’s lips curved into a lopsided smile—not a grin, exactly, yet it inexplicably made Kang-soe’s stomach drop.

Has the heat driven me mad?

His mind went blank. As he groaned inwardly, unsure what to do, the man’s pale hand gripped his sleeve.

“Wh-where are we going?”

“Follow me.”

Kang-soe felt certain the man was dragging him into a secluded ditch to slice his throat with that massive sword.

Oh, heavens. Heavens above. I knew nobles had wicked tempers, but to kill a man over a little attitude? Oh, heavens.

He chanted internally like a professional mourner.

Keeping a firm grip on Kang-soe’s sleeve, Yeom-gon marched up the mountain. He trampled the thorny brush to clear a safe path, and whenever they hit a steep, slippery incline, he grabbed Kang-soe’s wrist and hauled him up. The problem was that after each haul, Yeom-gon refused to let go. Just as Kang-soe reached his breaking point and opened his mouth to complain, the man stopped.

Having blindly followed the man’s broad back, Kang-soe didn’t notice the halt and crashed face-first into him.

“Ouch.”

“You should watch where you are going.”

Who wanders around not looking ahead? The mild scolding, delivered like a parent chiding a toddler, made Kang-soe flush with unwarranted embarrassment. Unable to snap back with his usual fiery temper, he glared at a distant peak—until the crisp sound of rushing water reached his ears. He had been so convinced he was marching to his execution that he hadn’t even noticed they had arrived at a stream.

Had the man sought out the water simply because he complained of the heat?

If he had just left me alone, I would have found one myself.

Not only would he have found one, but he could have taken his time climbing, leisurely digging up herbs along the way. Oblivious to Kang-soe’s sullen internal monologue, Yeom-gon spoke.

“Did you not say you were hot?”

“I did.”

“Did you not say you were itchy?”

“…I did.”

Kang-soe couldn’t fathom the man’s intentions. Did finding this valley mean Yeom-gon wanted to travel together? His companion’s utter unpredictability was suffocating. Setting his heavy pack down in a dry spot, Kang-soe rolled up his trouser legs. Removing his straw shoes and socks revealed badly swollen feet. The blisters had blistered over and burst; the moment his skin touched the water, a stinging pain drew a sharp groan. He gingerly stepped onto the slippery, moss-covered streambed. Wading in only up to his rolled trousers, he cupped the water and splashed his face.

The water was gloriously freezing.

The oppressive fog that had clouded his mind all morning vanished.

“Ah. That is refreshing.”

Simply dipping his hands and feet wasn’t enough. Glancing back, he saw Yeom-gon had climbed atop the largest boulder to gaze out at the distant scenery. Since the man was facing the opposite direction, Kang-soe hurriedly stripped.

Off came the tunic.

Off came the trousers.

He debated whether to remove his undergarments but ultimately decided to wade in wearing them.

Untying his hairband and letting his messy locks fall loose, he plunged into the deeper water. Wading to the center, it reached his waist. When he squatted down, it submerged him completely. He dove beneath the surface and burst back up with a splash.

“Good lord, it’s freezing!”

Despite his complaints, he splashed about vigorously, scrubbing his hair in the current. After washing to his heart’s content, he scrubbed the undergarments he was wearing. Retrieving his spare socks from his pack, he washed them, wrung them out tight, and spread them over a sun-baked rock to dry. He turned—and locked eyes with Yeom-gon, still perched above him.

“You look like you might survive now.”

Kang-soe was shivering hard enough to chatter his teeth, but it was infinitely better than boiling alive. Draping his towel haphazardly over his modesty, he hoisted himself onto the rock. Sitting on the scorching stone, he wrung the excess water from his dripping hair one last time.

“Would you like to dip your feet as well, my lord?”

Wearing those stark black robes all day—was the man immune to the heat? Not a single drop of sweat marred his pale face. Wondering if highborn nobles were simply bred from a different stock that rendered them impervious to temperature, Kang-soe offered the invitation.

The man shook his head.

“I am fine.”

“The heat is brutal today. Even just soaking your feet offers a brief respite on a long journey.”

As Kang-soe gestured to his own feet, Yeom-gon’s gaze shifted downward. The burst blisters were swollen white, exposing raw red flesh beneath. As Kang-soe meticulously peeled away the dangling dead skin with his fingertips, Yeom-gon asked a question.

“What happened to your feet?”

“I’ve been walking a great deal. And putting on stiff, unbroken straw shoes probably caused it.”

They hadn’t bothered him when he bought them, but traversing rugged mountain trails quickly revealed their stiffness. Kang-soe explained he planned to apply medicine once his feet dried completely. Yeom-gon looked as if he wanted to say something, but pressed his lips together instead.

“Have you been wandering the mountains for a long time?”

“Since the moment I learned to walk and run.”

Back then, he climbed the mountains because he was starving. He would trail behind swarms of village children, plucking sweet briar shoots and wild raspberries to eat. If it was edible, he devoured it. Stonecrop, raw mugwort—he ate it all. His earliest memories were defined by perpetual hunger. Too many siblings and never enough food. When roaming the entire mountain failed to fill his belly, he filled it with stream water instead.

I wonder if Father is doing well.

The sudden thought of home made him flop backward onto the rock. The sky was a brilliant azure. Without a single cloud to block it, the blazing sun poured down, showcasing summer’s fierce hostility.

“So you wander to dig for ginseng?”

Kang-soe replied that it was something similar. He was searching for the Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak to procure medicine for his father; the journey mirrored the life of a root digger. Herbs, medicine—it was all the same. Answering however suited him best, he closed his eyes. The sunlight was blindingly bright. Perhaps because the cold water had chilled him to the bone, the stinging rays didn’t feel entirely unpleasant.

Lying still, he tossed back a question. “Where are you headed, my lord?”

He had shared his story, so it was only fair the man shared his. Would the secretive nobleman refuse to reveal his inner thoughts?

Cracking an eye open, Kang-soe met Yeom-gon’s gaze. The man was staring at him with such intensity that Kang-soe’s stomach did a nervous flip.

“I am going to find my bride.”

“…Where exactly?”

“Wherever she may be.”

Silence stretched between them.

A lone cloud drifted from some unknown origin, floating lazily across the pristine sky. Only the ceaseless chatter of the stream filled the quiet. When the cloud passed and the sky cleared once more, Yeom-gon added, “We selected an auspicious day and were in the midst of our wedding ceremony when the Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak swooped down and took my bride.”

A massive gale had erupted, snapping trees in half and sending banquet tables flying. Just as the floral palanquin was about to cross the threshold, it was swept into the sky. It wasn’t just the bride who vanished—the monster took the entire palanquin. The servants carrying it were dragged screaming into the air, leaving the horrified guests below shrieking in terror. Yeom-gon had sprinted after it, but the beast was far too swift to catch even a glimpse of its tail feathers. Whether a blessing or a curse, a single shoe worn by his bride had plummeted to the earth. When he consulted a powerful mountain deity, even the spirit confessed ignorance of the monster’s hiding place. The beast possessed dozens of nests. Why would a single creature need dozens of nests? Because it hoarded endless treasures, humans, and prey stolen from across the land.

“While I despaired over how to find her, the deity told me that if I floated her shoe in a running stream, it would guide me to my bride.”

And so he had placed the shoe in the water and followed it.

Following a floating shoe might sound absurd, but the moment he looked away, it vanished. He couldn’t rest. Even staring directly at it, the shoe would abruptly sink, spin in the depths, and pop back up in completely unexpected places.

“I am not behaving like a madman without reason. Of course, if this proves to be a lie, I will not spare the wretch who deceived me.”

The threat in those quiet words sent a shiver down Kang-soe’s spine. Regardless, the man’s bizarre tale was utterly fascinating.

Masking his unease, Kang-soe leaned forward. “Is that truly the case? Are you genuinely tracking the Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak? Because the monster stole your bride, you must hunt it down, correct?”

“Well. The shoe has not yet located the beast, so I cannot be certain.”

A noncommittal answer, but hearing the monster’s name repeated made Kang-soe’s heart pound.

“But if the legend holds true, following that shoe will lead you straight to the Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak, will it not?”

“So I was told. However, the rapids are terrifyingly fast, and you would be surprised how easily a shoe sinks.”

Naturally, a shoe wasn’t designed to ride the water’s surface. Kang-soe nodded. That made sense.

“It sinks and spins so erratically that tracking it is no simple feat. Had you not found it the other day, I shudder to think what might have happened.”

Guilt pricked at him.

Prompted by the apology, Kang-soe inadvertently blurted out the story of his strange dream—the spinning, the sinking, the twin boulders. Because the dream had been so vivid, he had checked the area while passing by, and the shoe had miraculously snagged on his foot. Astounded by the coincidence, he had picked it up, intending to return it if fate ever reunited them. He offered a sincere apology, confessing he had no idea the shoe held such profound significance.

“A dream, you say…”

“It could have just been a lucky guess. I only mention it because the coincidence was so bizarre.”

“No. Not at all. You found it, did you not? That is all that matters.”

Yeom-gon offered a wide, striking smile.

How could a grown man possess such a beautiful smile? Blinking rapidly, Kang-soe voiced the thought that had just struck him. He had no way of knowing how much exaggeration laced the nobleman’s story, but desperate for any lead, he grasped at the straw.

“Will you continue to follow the shoe, my lord?”

He was asking if Yeom-gon still intended to hunt the monster. Having trekked through the dry mountains all day, Kang-soe couldn’t tell if the man was actively tracking it or if he had stashed the shoe in his robes.

Catching Kang-soe’s lingering glances, Yeom-gon asked if he was curious.

“It’s not just curiosity.”

Truthfully, he was agonizingly curious. If the man was heading toward the beast, Kang-soe fully intended to glue himself to his side—even if he had only made that decision a few seconds ago.

“You see, I desperately need to find it as well.”

“The Five-Foot Tail, Five-Foot Beak?”