༺ 𓆩 Chapter 6 𓆪 ༻
「Translator — Creator」
᠃ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ˚ ⚘᠂ ⚘ ᠃
After the uproar that took place in the square, the lord hastily convened a meeting.
Because it had been called so suddenly, not all messengers had been able to reach their recipients immediately, and many arrived late. Yet the Lord said nothing. He simply waited in silence until every last person had assembled.
Those who hadn’t yet heard what had happened whispered to those beside them, hushed questions and murmured answers passing between them in a low current that stirred the hall of the central assembly with quiet tension.
“Apologies for the delay.”
At last, the final Decurion arrived and took his seat. Roughly twenty people now filled the meeting gall.
“Good. Everyone’s here.”
At that moment, Jambaga — the Lord’s most trusted retainer, a formidable warrior who always bore a massive axe across his back — raised his voice, commanding attention.
His eyes, sharp and gleaming beneath the horned helm that flanked his head, swept across the room, locking briefly with each Decurion.
“The meeting will now begin! Some of you may have already heard: Forest Men have been sighted near the borders of Olus territory.”
Upon hearing this, the latecomers reacted in one of two ways. The younger ones blinked in confusion, unfamiliar with the term, while the veterans let out subdued sighs, eyes darkening with quiet dread.
“There is another matter — one far more pressing. A mishap has occurred with the nomadic unit that, with the onset of winter, had taken most of the livestock toward Hopsgul Lake.”
That revelation stunned the room.
Each winter, nomadic units traveled westward to the warmer lands, in search of pastures to feed the herds. These units were led by three of the finest ten-man squads from across the Olus territory.
Should anything happen to them, it would be a severe blow not only to Olus’s martial strength but to its livelihood — the livestock they herded were the single greatest source of sustenance for the people.
“What exactly happened to them?”
“That, we still don’t know. Of the ten carrier birds they took with them, seven have returned. One of them had a red cloth tied to its leg.”
The red cloth — bound to a carrier bird — signaled dire, exceptional danger. And the fact that multiple birds had been released simultaneously only heightened the severity of the message.
In the past several decades, even sending more than three birds at once was almost unheard of. To release seven — this was truly extraordinary.
Those Decurions who understood the meaning behind the red cloth let out collective sighs. Some cursed under their breath. The assembly hall rumbled with unrest as voices rose all at once.
“We must send aid immediately!”
With heightened voices, the room became a chorus of urgent pleas to dispatch reinforcements to the nomadic unit.
“Silence!”
The voice of Lord Borjigin cut through the clamor, instantly cooling the feverish atmosphere.
“I have already dispatched one of our ten-man units to Hopsgul Lake to assess the situation. We will not act until they return with a report.”
“Y-you mean to say…”
“If what befell the nomads was no more than a raid from neighboring territories coveting our livestock, we will repay them — twice, no, threefold. But if this was an attack by a Forest Men warband… that is a different matter entirely.”
The Decurions tensed, many swallowing hard as the gravity of that possibility sank in.
“They’ve already reached our borders and clashed with one of our patrols. It is entirely possible that their ultimate goal is to destroy this territory. Therefore, from this point forward, we will preserve our strength and act under wartime protocol.”
The mention of wartime conditions left many of the Decurions gaping, stunned.
Ignoring the murmurs behind him, the Lord turned his head, searching the gathered ranks until his gaze landed on Tamir.
“From this moment on, our forces will be divided in two. I will lead one half to fortify the defenses across our territory. The other half will conduct intensive searches within and beyond our borders. Tamir will serve as the commander of all search operations.”
“What? But…”
Staggered by the unexpected appointment, Tamir looked up in alarm. But the Lord's will was immovable.
“I, Borjigin Dorji, took the vanguard of my first battlefield when I was fifteen. You’re seventeen. There’s no reason you should be unable to shoulder this.”
“...I understand.”
“Jambaga will assist Tamir until the situation is resolved.”
“Yes, my Lord.”
With Jambaga at his side, Tamir finally exhaled, his expression easing slightly.
Jambaga had served beside the Lord for many years and was a man of immense experience; though rigid to the point of discomfort at times, he was unparalleled when it came to planning and executing operations.
“Does anyone have objections?”
“…My Lord, why do you believe these outsiders wish to destroy our territory? Shouldn’t aiding the nomadic unit in immediate danger take precedence?”
The question came from a relatively young Decurion who stepped forward, hesitant but earnest.
The Lord looked at him, momentarily puzzled, then nodded in understanding and gave his reply.
“So it’s already been more than a cycle of the land since it last turned. I see. I suppose it’s only natural you wouldn’t know.”
He paused, his voice heavy with remembrance.
“They invaded our territory a decade ago. The Forest Men. They couldn’t withstand the winter and retreated, yes — but not before we fought a brutal battle. The losses on our side were severe.”
Those over thirty all remembered that time and nodded their heads.
"All of you, keep this in mind. Forest Men are beings created by the Goddess to destroy mankind. Their appearance here is a clear signal of invasion. This is now a matter of our territory's survival. We can no longer afford to spare any more troops."
"...Understood."
"I apologize for convening this meeting and leading the discussion unilaterally, but since this is such an urgent matter, I hope you'll all follow along well. I'll give detailed instructions starting tomorrow. Everyone rest well today."
"Yes!"
When the dismissal order was given, they began leaving their seats one by one.
Their faces were all filled with anxiety, restlessness, and tension.
𓇗
“No, you can’t.”
“What? Out of nowhere? Why not?”
“You haven’t got a permit. Orders just came down — no one leaves the village without authorization.”
The next day, when Hunbish tried to leave town, the guards stopped him at the path out. Every route into the mountains or forest was sealed in the same way — no matter which way he turned, escape was impossible.
“Why now, of all times…”
“Give it up. Things are crazy right now. Since this morning, everyone’s been rushing around on the Lord’s orders. Try anything stupid and you might just lose your head.”
“This because of the Forest Men yesterday?”
“Yeah. The Lord’s going on about war or something. Even Dawaa got caught up in it. And you know that spoiled son of his who acts like he’ll die without the Lord’s approval? He’s leading the search squads, and a few of them already got hurt. So yeah, it’s bad. Whole town’s in a frenzy — fletching arrows, stockpiling gear…”
Was all this really worth that kind of chaos?
He’d just torn into his son like a wild animal yesterday, and now today he was rallying everyone like the world was ending?
Hunbish couldn’t make sense of it.
And if he missed this window, the deeper winter got, the harder it would be to trap sable.
“Come on. Just look the other way — just this once? It’s not like I’ve been assigned anything in town, and come spring I’ll be banished anyway, right? So what does it matter if I’m left out of the lockdown?”
“Tch. Let me give you a warning, Hunbish. Don’t treat the Lord’s orders like a joke. And just because I was nice to you before — because you were working hard, trying to get by — don’t think you can pull rank on me. Say one more word and I’ll throw you in a cell.”
“Ugh…”
The guard, three years older than Hunbish, raised his spear and pointed it at him. With no choice, Hunbish turned and left.
“Hey, if you need help with anything — just say the word. I’ll do what I can.”
“…Yeah, sure.”
Every path accessible on horseback was guarded. Even when he tried pleading with the more approachable ones, it got him nowhere.
“So this really is my only option, huh.”
He’d spent all day scouring for a way out, but none existed.
Which meant there was just one path forward — he had to blend in with a group that was authorized to leave.
“I hate the idea of burdening someone else…”
But no one could say how long the lockdown would last. And if snow began to fall while he waited, the sables would vanish, retreating to warmer places.
After long deliberation, Hunbish finally moved — with determined steps — to seek out the ally he’d need to get beyond the village gate.
𓇗
The next morning, the person Hunbish met was Dawaa.
Because shepherds left the village every day and moved with large flocks of sheep, Hunbish thought it would be easiest to slip out among them.
However, since Dawaa was still recovering from his injuries, they needed the cooperation of other shepherds to make it work.
“Everyone agreed to help, just like you asked,” Dawaa said.
“Yeah? That must’ve been a pain to arrange. Thanks for the effort.”
“Not really. I just mentioned your name, and they all agreed on the spot.”
“What? Why?”
“Hehe. If you’re that curious, you should ask them yourself. Oh—and take this!”
Dawaa threw over a bundle of rolled-up sheepskin.
“What’s this?”
“Your disguise. To fool anyone watching.”
“Ah…”
So that was the plan — wrap himself up in wool and blend in with the sheep.
“You really thought this through, huh?”
“Hehehe. Right?”
Pleased by the compliment, Dawaa beamed, his grin wide and warm.
Together, they started walking toward the pasture.
When they arrived, they were greeted by two shepherds tending a flock of over a hundred sheep.
“There you are! Took you long enough!”
“Been a while, Hunbish!”
Hunbish’s eyes widened in surprise as he recognized them.
“Melduk! Tauga!”
The two were his age; he remembered talking with them often before the coming-of-age ceremony.
“Haha, so you do remember us.”
“But… you both became shepherds? Last I heard…”
“Tch. Not much interest in your old peers, huh? Eh, it’s fine. We never made it to visit you while you were recovering, either.”
“Ah, sorry. Everything’s been a blur since the ceremony.”
“No worries. We get it, especially with that damned Lord’s son making life hell for everyone.”
Startled by the sudden comment, Hunbish glanced around nervously.
“Hahaha, relax. No one comes near the pasture. No matter what we say out here, no one’s listening.”
“Besides,” Tauga chimed in, “the sheep’s bleating drowns out most conversations anyway.”
“At least you remembered us, though,” Melduk said with a faint smile
“Not that we became shepherds by choice. Melduk wanted to put his reading skills to use, and I — well, I always dreamed of joining the scouting parties."
“That’s right. Melduk, you could read and write pretty well, couldn’t you?”
“Yeah. My father worked as a scribe, so I always thought I’d follow in his footsteps. Make a living with words.”
“So how’d you end up as shepherds?”
At Hunbish’s question, Melduk hesitated. Tauga stepped in gently.
“The truth is… no one would take us.”
“No one?”
“Yeah. We saw something we weren’t supposed to on the day of the coming-of-age ceremony. We saw Tamir. Waiting for you.”
“Ah…”
Hunbish understood exactly what they were talking about.
“That bastard set it all up! Shepherds usually work in isolated pairs, right? And they have no business at the Central Hall. So he just dumped everyone he didn’t like out here — to shut them up and keep them away!”
Melduk’s anger flared again, and Hunbish found himself feeling deeply conflicted.
“So that’s what happened… That damned bastard…”
He realized then — he wasn’t the only one who’d been caught in Tamir’s web.
Others had been dragged down too, condemned to a life of exile without exile, all because they crossed him.
Hunbish’s eyes drifted toward Dawaa, troubled.
“Don’t tell me… you too?”
“No! Of course not!” Dawaa shook his head firmly. “I volunteered, that’s all. I just couldn’t stand working with those scouting bastards. Don’t get the wrong idea.”
“…Still, I’m sorry. This all happened because of me. I dragged you all into it. I have no right to face you.”
Even if Dawaa denied it, Hunbish knew — if it hadn’t been for his situation, Dawaa would have had no reason to avoid the scouting parties.
“No, don’t be stupid. How’s any of this your fault?” Tauga interjected. “It’s Tamir. That bastard’s just rotten to the core. You’ve got nothing to apologize for. What, is it our fault too, just because we happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?”
Hunbish’s apology was quickly swept aside by Tauga’s righteous indignation.
“Exactly! Honestly, every time I hear about how you knocked Tamir flat on his ass, it makes my whole week. How do you even have the guts to do that? Teach me sometime, will you?”
“Seriously, though,” Melduk added with a grin, “being a shepherd’s not that bad. And every time we hear something about you, we think — damn, Hunbish is really something. We’re on your side. Whatever you need, if we can help, just say it.”
“That’s right. No weird awkwardness, got it? We’re in this together,” Tauga said, reaching out his hand.
“I’m in too!” Dawaa chirped, eagerly joining in.
Hunbish looked at the outstretched hands, then extended his own. The four of them clasped hands together, a quiet pact between comrades.
“Thanks, all of you. I won’t waste the chance you’ve given me.”
For Hunbish, this was the first time since the accident that he’d found people who shared his purpose; comrades who stood with him.
He had lived alone for so long.
Just knowing he wasn’t anymore brought him a profound sense of comfort.
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