At sunset.
The area above the Silver Moon Order’s base, before the shrine, was busy.
The sacks that had been tied up in advance were loaded onto the carts,
and each time the ropes pulled taut, the knots creaked.
Fresh shovel marks had been left along the wet dirt road.
They were traces of stones cleared away and roots cut, all to widen the path the carts would take.
Some held lanterns and checked the route,
while others ran their fingers down the cargo lists, counting again.
Rangnan quietly oversaw it all.
Though he said little, wherever his gaze fell, the work was put in order.
Miryeong spoke beside him.
“It looks like we’re almost done.”
Rangnan nodded.
“Yeah.”
“Leave only enough people to guard the carts. Everyone else, go down and rest.”
“We leave for Arku tomorrow morning.”
At those words,
the air before the shrine changed.
Most of the members’ faces brightened.
Someone, thinking of setting foot on his homeland again, tightened his leather strap for no reason,
while another still carried in his shoulders the momentum of having driven out the Empire.
Someone laughed and said, “Now we’ll sleep under a roof instead of in a cave.”
The things they had done until now had not been wrong.
No one doubted that.
But—
not everyone was simply happy.
Some faces were smiling, yet their eyes were fixed on the ground,
and some hands paused for a moment even as they tied down the luggage.
A new beginning.
And the unease that this beginning would not be bright in every way.
The chill of the shrine deepened as the sun went down.
Before that cold they had long since grown used to, the Silver Moon Order swallowed down their own thoughts.
One by one, the members descended through the gap behind the shrine.
After confirming the last of them, Rangnan and Miryeong
bowed their heads in greeting to the remaining watch group.
“Good work.”
The watch group dipped their heads briefly.
Rangnan and Miryeong began walking down the path that led beneath the shrine.
The sun was already caught on the low ridge,
and the wind slipped coldly through the gaps in the stones.
Rangnan said in a low voice,
“We’re going to be even busier from now on.”
Miryeong answered,
“I know.”
“What we drove out was… only a single army, after all.”
Rangnan nodded.
“Right. We’re back to square one.”
“Even if we drove the Empire out of Arku, that doesn’t mean their ambitions are over.”
“They’ll become even rougher now.”
Miryeong immediately picked up his words.
“…And Bido.”
At the sound of that name, Rangnan’s gaze hardened for an instant.
“Those bastards will no longer aim for the sword, but for Bido.”
Rangnan nodded.
“That’s right.”
The open rock wall appeared ahead.
It looked like a natural cleft, but a familiar chill flowed out from between it.
The two stopped briefly before it.
Rangnan continued,
“…The Empire won’t put forward things like justification anymore.”
Miryeong gritted her teeth.
“The Shadows.”
“They’ll come.”
Miryeong clenched her fist.
Crack—
There was a faint sound of bone shifting.
“I’m already prepared.”
Rangnan said quietly,
“Bido is no longer simply a child we have to protect.”
“He must fight alongside us.”
“…Because he is our hope.”
Miryeong nodded once, briefly.
The two stepped through the open wall.
The lantern light scraped thinly past the darkness within.
And—
the rock wall closed again.
Tomorrow morning, this wall would open.
So they could move on to what came next.
—
Bido opened his eyes.
His ankles were cold.
Black water.
It was rising higher and higher toward him.
There was nowhere to run.
He tried to draw breath,
but the water had already passed his throat.
Then—
his forehead grew faintly hot.
The feeling of a crescent moon burning subtly beneath his skin.
The black surface wavered for a moment,
then sank again, as though someone had pressed it down by hand.
Bido gasped for breath.
Cold air scraped past his throat.
At that moment,
someone was standing before his eyes.
‘My face…?’
No.
Long black hair.
The distinctive dress of the Haraya.
And a height level with Bido’s eyes.
She looked straight at Bido.
Her gaze was not entirely unfamiliar.
Strange, and yet… familiar.
The Haraya opened her mouth.
“We have to stop him.”
Bido’s lips trembled.
“W-what… what do we have to stop…?”
The Haraya did not hesitate.
“Roan.”
The name drove into him like a blade.
“We have to… stop that fool.”
Bido’s breath stopped.
“Roan… How… how could I?”
The Haraya took one step closer.
Then she gripped Bido’s shoulders.
Her hands were warm, and strangely real.
“You can because it’s you.”
“No… because it’s us.”
Bido’s eyes widened.
“You are… who….”
The Haraya spoke very quietly.
“You already know.”
She tightened the hands gripping Bido’s shoulders.
As if she would not let him go.
“Because you opened the door… I was able to rise.”
Then closer still,
she whispered into Bido’s ear.
“Listen carefully.”
“I am you.”
Bido’s heart dropped with a thud.
“And before I became you, I—”
Before she could finish,
the black water surged once more.
Bido—
opened his eyes.
The surroundings were still dark.
Aslo and the twins were asleep.
Only the smell of old blankets
and faint breathing remained in the room.
Bido touched his forehead.
It was hot.
The crescent mark had faintly surfaced there.
Bido steadied his breathing
and thought of the ‘door.’
Close it.
Latch it.
The mark slowly faded.
Bido lowered his hand
and recalled the dream he had just had.
Roan—
she said I had to stop him.
And that Haraya was—
—
Noon the next day.
Inside Arku’s city gate, in the vacant lot left between the military police warehouse and the training grounds.
Ordinarily, it was a place to park carts, stack lumber, and where mud gathered first on rainy days.
Now ropes were being strung over it.
Stakes were driven in, ropes pulled taut, and tent cloth hastily hung.
The sound of hammering did not cease.
Each time a nail was driven in, the wood rang briefly, and dust rose.
The ground was uneven.
The places where stones had been cleared away were hollow,
and the packed earth was still wet.
Every time a foot stepped down, it sank briefly with a soft squelch.
Yun stood in the middle of that site.
Even when dust clung to the hem of her clothes, she did not brush it off.
Her eyes moved as they swept over the people, the materials, and the routes of movement.
Raymond walked up beside Yun.
He stopped for a moment and looked over the “areas” marked off by ropes.
A table hastily made for registration.
The place where water barrels would be set.
The place where temporary braziers would go.
And—
the places where the tents had to stand.
Raymond said in a low voice,
“This place… can’t help but be poor.”
Yun turned her head.
“I know.”
Raymond flicked the rope with his hand.
The rope shook for a moment, then went taut again.
“The roof is nothing but tent cloth.”
“If a strong wind blows, it’ll flap. If it rains, it’ll leak.”
“If people crowd in, the smell, the noise… you’ll have to endure all of it.”
His gaze moved to the ground already being dug up.
A pit someone was hastily digging.
Still too crude to even call a “toilet.”
Looking at it, Yun spoke calmly.
“Even that is more than we could ask for.”
Raymond’s brows rose slightly.
Yun added,
“We originally… lived in underground caves.”
“At least here, there are walls. And we can see the sky.”
Raymond started to sigh, then stopped and pressed his lips shut.
Because he knew those words were not a joke.
The hammering sounded closer.
A guard came running with nails in his mouth, then stopped.
“Councilor! We need one more tent. There are more people than expected—”
Raymond raised his palm and cut him off.
“Take more from the warehouse.”
“And move the water barrels toward the front.”
The guard ran off.
Yun walked slowly after Raymond.
Passing inside the ropes, she touched the tent cloth once with her fingertips.
It was rough.
It smelled of a mix of new cloth and old.
Raymond said,
“Today… is a day for enduring.”
“Once people start arriving, you’ll notice even more things we lack.”
Yun nodded.
“That’s why we’re putting it together in such a hurry now.”
Raymond turned his gaze to Yun.
“When will they arrive?”
Yun looked up at the sky, as if briefly calculating.
The sun was still high overhead.
But the light had already begun to tilt a little.
“Around evening.”
“They’ll come in at sunset.”
Raymond let out a short breath.
“That’s later than I thought.”
Yun said,
“They have to bring people from the base.”
“There are children and the elderly, too.”
Instead of answering, Raymond nodded.
Looking around the site again, he said,
“Then the real start begins at sunset today.”
Yun gave a short laugh.
It was less a laugh than the sound of steadying her breath.
“Yeah.”
“And… until then, we need to make sure the ‘rumors’ arrive here first.”
“If people gather here, the area in front of the gate will shake less.”
Raymond murmured in a low voice,
“Rumors run ahead, and people follow after.”
Yun paused for a moment, then quietly added,
“Raymond.”
“Thank you.”
Raymond did not answer.
Instead, he cast his gaze toward the guard hammering in nails and said,
“…I’m the one who should be saying thank you.”
“Arku owes you all a debt, too.”
He stopped for a moment, then added,
“But this is inside the city.”
“A debt is a debt, and rules are rules.”
Yun nodded.
“I know.”
“We have to learn how to stay somewhere now, too.”
The instant those words fell,
another sound burst out in the distance.
The sound of new tent cloth being unfurled.
The sound of ropes being pulled.
And someone shouting loudly.
“Registration marks! The line for checking registration plaques is this way!”
Raymond turned his gaze that way.
Yun did as well.
Even though no one had yet arrived,
the preparations to receive people were already being shaped into the voice of the city.
Raymond said very quietly,
“When evening comes… this place will become your face.”
Yun did not answer.
She merely looked toward the end of the section, at the still-empty spaces where tents would stand.
Evening.
When the sun fell—
those empty places would be filled with people.
And from that moment on,
the Silver Moon Order would no longer be an “organization of the forest,” but a “presence within the city.”
Yun swallowed once inwardly.
“Yeah.”
The word was brief.
“So… we need to hurry until evening.”