The Mook Maker

Hae Narim, the Crown Princess of Hanulbeol-guk, didn’t have any tangible solution to the problems that plagued the war-torn kingdom.

 

She had once thought she had one, but her foolish attempt to use the poorly understood powers of the ancient scroll to challenge fate itself was turned against her.

 

Now, alone, in the privacy of her chambers, she had the chance to meditate on decisions she had made. She sat silently, gazing into the flickering flame of the oil lamp, letting her mind wander. 

 

As much as she despised the inaction, especially in the face of danger the kingdom faced, her options to influence the course of the war were very limited, if not completely nonexistent. 

 

She hadn’t had the chance to change anything when she escaped the royal capital with the ancient scroll she had taken from the vaults buried deep under the palace, though back in that day, she had believed that the twisted, unnatural power of the mystical relic would save the day, that it would gift Hanulbeol-guk with the hero to drive the barbaric Jin invaders from the kingdom. 

 

Sages back in the capital had told her that the scrolls of the Forbidden Library were too dangerous, and far too unpredictable, but she hadn’t listened. Narim had wanted the scroll, and they had given it to her, albeit hesitantly, for she was the Crown Princess Cheonchong, beloved by the gods. Her title and royal lineage gave her the right to access the most guarded secrets within the kingdom, and very few ever dared to defy her. She didn’t need to pay heed to the wisemen that advised her against toying with the dangerous powers they themselves couldn’t control. 

 

She had abused her influence at that very moment, because she believed her actions were fully justified, and for the good of the entire kingdom. 

 

The princess has been more than able to handle the ritual; at least that has been what she had thought back then. 

 

How could she have thought that the power of the scrolls of Pho-us-kah would bow to her will? 

 

Such hubris; she thought now.

 

Her mistake led to the tragic loss of life among the brave men who followed her here, and many others, bringing no single benefit to her father’s domains and its people. 

 

Hae Narim regretted her foolishness right now. 

 

Now all the princess could do was pray for the capital as the Jin armies descended upon it. Was there still a siege in progress, or had the city to the attackers fallen already? 

 

She wanted to know what happened to her father. 

 

Was he even alive? 

 

She trained her mind harder, focusing more on the little dancing flame on the artistically shaped lamp. Narim was pleading heavens for help, but none came. 

 

Gods didn’t grant her the vision. Neither of the city, nor of her father.

 

Perhaps her mind had lost discipline due to doubt, or perhaps the gods exacted punishment for her actions. Or maybe it was the malevolent, dark presence that grew stronger in the mountains to the east, as alien as it was ominous, that distributed her focus. 

 

She knew The Stranger was out there, with his entourage of the equally strange beast women. 

 

The fact she could sense the foreboding aura of threat here spoke volumes of the danger the mysterious man possessed, growing stronger with each passing moment.

 

Previously, she could only feel his unnatural aura when he was standing in front of her, in that single fateful moment, with the sinister feeling all but disappeared with growing distance. 

 

Now, be it through the growth of mystical power, or through the will of the gods, the sensation came to her even in the chamber's privacy within the Viceroy’s fortress. She wasn’t able to, however, tell whether the Stranger was getting closer, or farther away from her, crossing the Surao mountains at the moment. But he was, without the sliver of doubt, there. 

 

The disturbance she felt wasn’t providing her with any answers, nor meaningful warnings about more impending dangers, almost like it was nothing more than a trace of blame for going through the ritual. Uncertainty in its meaning filled Narim with worry. 

 

At least, she wasn’t completely deprived of information about the man from nowhere, with the abilities that reached to the Spirit Realm to call for monsters to do his bidding. 

 

The Viceroy had sent his men after the stranger. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae wouldn’t have told her he did, she realised, at least not under the normal circumstances, but even he quickly realised that the enemy wasn’t like the Jin invaders, or bandits, or even the rogue Sword Adept. It forced his hand; she had assumed. 

 

The princess was very suspicious of her host, but her unfavourable position kept silent, putting her court training to good use by pretending she didn’t notice his duplicitous nature and questionable competencies. Narim needed Youngjae in those dire times. Being stranded here gave the princess a long due lesson about the fragile royal authority in difficult times. 

 

The Viceroy acted against the Stranger, at the very least, even if with little effect. 

 

His men, sent out into the woods, already returned before the skies darkened, bearing news about a trap the beast women laid for them, killing a few and forcing the rest to flee. 

 

It seemed like the captain of the calvary believed that there would be significantly fewer enemies than he encountered, though the princess didn’t blame him for sounding the retreat when outnumbered by stronger foes.

 

Whether it was a good choice, it would remain to be seen. The princess wouldn’t be accusing anyone of cowardice, regardless. She had taken this without the word then - now, when she meditated upon it, it just added to the suspicion she already had of the possibly foul play involved.

 

The point was that aside from the soldiers, there was one unlikely victim too.

 

The old Sage, the man viceroy summoned to advise, was separated from the group during their retreat, and was killed, supposedly.

 

Why Youngjae sent him with his riders, Narim didn’t know. 

 

Yes, the old man nearly attacked her when she told him about the scroll, in an act of panic or madness, which would normally be a grave offence, but the princess was determined to be merciful, pleading for the man to be pardoned. Her father would have the man beheaded immediately. She knew that very well. However, Narim blamed herself for the insensibility of performing the ritual, and grew a strange sympathy for fools. 

 

Besides, the Sage was the only person outside of the wise men back in the capital who knew more about the origin of the ancient relic. He possessed wisdom she couldn’t seek elsewhere, as the very few could teach her about Pho-us-kah, the supposedly mad author of the scrolls in question. 

 

She had to know if she should ever hope to undo it or to control it. 

 

But Gam Youngjae sent the old Sage away with his cavalrymen.

 

Though she hadn’t protested against such a decision, it troubled her.

 

None of it explained the viceroy's actions - he couldn’t reasonably expect the old Sage to pay back for the crime through service on the battlefield, nor think that one man would be the decisive factor in the skirmish. 

 

Viceroy sent a very few men too - as much as he scoffed at the idea of the suicidal march on the capital, and as much unprepared he was for the Jin armies, he certainly had more than the thirty calvary men at his disposal. Narim assumed he had more than a few hundred men in the column she saw, perhaps more, the people who now guarded the fortress. 

 

It wasn’t a veritable army, and perhaps it wouldn’t win the war with the Jin invaders being ten times, twenty times as many, perhaps more than they swept through the mighty Hanulbeol-guk with such ease. Viceroy had the force to maintain the rule of law within this province, at the very least.

 

Why not use it, if the Stranger was the threat?

 

Unless the Viceroy was more interested in finding the scroll than he was in fighting the enemy, the princess realised. Then the most trusted few would make the most sense. Those men were Youngjae’s personal guards, after all.

 

She, ultimately, didn’t know.

 

Her contemplations were, however, soon interrupted by a commotion within the fortress, demanding her attention. The raised voices, the sound of footsteps, the soldiers rushing down the corridors, shouting for alarm in the darkness. There was, however, no sound of battle. 

 

Unexpected visitors at the gates, interlopers perhaps, she gathered as much from the echoing voices of men rushing through the fort. It wasn’t the attack, though; it didn’t sound like one, though her experience of such were limited at best. 

 

She rose immediately. 

 

Narim's first thoughts, and biggest hope, were messages from the capital, bearing news that the battle was won.

 

It was this hope that truly made her jump out and make her way into the courtyard, despite it not being the expected behaviour from a person of her station - messages were supposed to be delivered to her, with the proper decorum, not the other way around. It was improper, but the princess didn’t care at the moment. If they were news, she wanted to hear them as soon as possible, not through some orchestrated ceremony. 

 

She could almost hear the advisors scolding her for breaking the precious protocol, demanding her to act more reserved, but she refused the thought. While protocol was everything in the court, and the princess used to adhere to it without question, those advisors weren’t there right here, right now. She could forgive herself for acting improper, she would even forgive others.

 

Ceremonies could wait for more peaceful times. 

 

Soldiers were quite confused by her presence too. Only the ones that stood guard at her chambers saluted her as she rushed by, trying to keep pace as a proper escort would. She almost ran. It wasn’t the trot she would normally maintain for leisurely walking toward the royal palace - she wasn’t in the palace, anyway.

 

Narim didn’t feel offended at the moment. 

 

Maybe they didn’t even see her properly. In the light of dozens of torches, even on the unusually bright night under the growing moon, the fortress going through this rude awakening was still drowning in shadows.

 

“What happened?” She asked the first soldier at hand. He didn’t reply.

 

She continued further. 

 

The soldiers exchanged shouts with someone down the gate, refusing to let just anyone into the castle at this late hour - which was reasonable considering the circumstances. It was very unusual for anyone wandering through the land at night. The officer shouted again, and finally, the princess caught the answer.

 

“San Hyun-Ki, The Viceroy Advisor!” sounded down at the gate, “I am with the people formerly imprisoned by the Dark one! They need help! Call the Viceroy, I beg you!” 

 

It was the Sage, the princess realised, he was alive. It was quite shocking he found his way back here in the night, in the darkness, especially so if one was considering his age - travelling in the night was as unsafe as if it was difficult, but she could imagine someone in dire need or under threat would do so anyway. 

 

“Call the Viceroy.” One soldier hollered, 

 

“Don’t open the gate. What if there are evil spirits out there?” answered someone from the crowd. 

 

“No! Call the Viceroy right now! It is his advisor!” echoed among the soldiers when they scrambled to search for their lord.

 

There seems to be a discord about the soldiers, some fearful, or at least nervous about the late visit. The tension in the air was noticeable, and worries on the faces of some men real, noticeable even in the gloomy, quivering light of all the torches they have lit.  

 

The princess tried to speak to them, though they just ran past her, raising alarm until their superior, and lord of this fortress, Viceroy Gam Youngjae, appeared in person, demanding them to restore order at once. It worked. Despite the princess wasn’t quite trusting Youngjae, he had some authority among his soldiers.

 

“You there, don’t stand around! I want archers on the walls!” He ordered, and seeing the lingering confusion among the fighters, he added: “Open the gates!” 

 

“Shields and spears in front of the gate! Be prepared to push them back if they prove hostile! Then open the gate!” He adjusted the orders. 

 

His men obeyed, reading their weapons, drawn swords, or readied their shields and spears, not in the slightly more organised and disciplined way than they did before.

 

As fighters formed a defensive line between them, and the confused crowd poured into the fort through the now opened gate, then stopped in front of the spear points and shield wall, someone finally noticed Narim’s presence. 

 

There were still a few shouts, some in a dialect she couldn’t understand, among the visitors, which only increased the suspicion from the defenders. However, the Viceroy once again yelled at his men, demanding the order and silence. 

 

Only then did Youngjae bow to the princess politely, being the first person who truly acknowledged her amid the chaos, but not before he finally got his guards acting the way they should. 

 

“Your Highness, I suggest you go back inside.” The Viceroy said, and even in the dim light, the princess could notice he silently hesitated to order his soldier to lead her away, but opted against it, satisfied with the polite suggestion. He was visibly agitated by the whole affair and it was obvious he didn’t want to deal with the royal guest in the middle of the serious problem of managing his erratic men. 

 

“No. I want to hear what happened!” She decided, though it was hard to hold any conversation in the circumstances, since the shouting once again began, with soldiers once again shouting something about “evil spirits” again. 

 

“It’s San Hyun-Ki, your advisor, lord!” The captain shouted from the crowd, perhaps unhelpfully confirming the identity of the visitor, and leading the old man, though it was hard to blame them. Men were visibly nervous, but led the old man through in front of the two officials while pushing away the rest of the crowd. 

 

The Sage fell on his knee immediately upon seeing the princess and the viceroy.

 

“Your royal highness! My lord!” He exclaimed, his head lowered. This confused or even startled the nearby soldiers some more. They barely noticed Hae Narim standing amid all this commotion until someone else, other than the Viceroy himself, had addressed her directly. A few men took the step back. 

 

The princess, aware that her presence here‌ was highly unusual, said nothing and kept her composure, while Youngjae opted to solve the issue with the visitors first before he had to worry about the protocol or politeness. 

 

“What is the meaning of this? Who are those people?” Viceroy boomed, demanding answers with an authoritative tone, more fitting of this role, while the princess merely watched the event, or rather the explanation, unfold. 

 

“My lord! Those are refugees from a different province. They were captured and then released by the Dark One! I found them in the forest when I separated from your men and led them there!” 

 

There were a few more shouts from the crowd, with “Evil Spirits” being the most common. 

 

“Dark One?” 

 

“The Stranger, the being called by the Scroll of Pho-us-kah. He is out there! There are hundreds of the creatures called from beyond in the forest, they saw them. Hundreds.” 

 

Hyun-Ki continued, frantically: “There aren't any accounts of such a thing, it must be the relic working! And those poor people were captured by them. But then, Evil Spirits let them go after one of them got possessed! I want to tell you more, but I can’t find anything just by myself!” 

 

It was apparent that the old Sage found the prospect more exciting than terrifying, and his manner of speech suggested he was proud to inform the Viceroy about the recent development, instead of warning him of the dangers. Same couldn’t be said of the rest of the men, the lost peasants and soldiers alike, which were both driven on the verge of panic. 

 

“Evil Spirits!” someone protested, once again, and the princess finally understood how scared those men truly were, by the force they could not comprehend. And the Sage, the only wise man able to advise her to understand, and possibly control or revert the ritual, was making the whole situation worse. 

 

“Silence!” Youngjae screamed, “Silence, at once!” 

 

It helped only a little. 

 

“Arrest those people!” The Viceroy ordered immediately afterward, “Close the gates, now! Watch will be up the entire night!”

 

This, ironically, had a much greater effect as the men shouted out in affirmation, pushing the gate close hastily while seizing the few exhausted peasants the Sage led in there. 

 

“Have mercy upon those people, my lord, I beg you!” Hyun-Ki pleaded. “They were gravely indebted to the merchant that led them here. They have nothing but clothes on their back!” 

 

“Enough!” The Viceroy cut the plea short. “Captain! All people who were brought in by the advisor will be placed under guard. Give them food and water, but keep a constant watch over them!”

 

There was rumbling among the crowd, but no one spoke up this time. There was some pushing between a soldier and one scared peasant.

 

“That’s an order!” Youngjae screamed, his patience gone, gesturing wildly: “By my order, as a Viceroy of Surao, I order those people won’t be harmed! But they will be under guard until…” 

 

Though the Viceroy sounded almost hysteric, it paradoxically has some soothing effect on the crowd, allowing them to gather their wits, preventing the complete chaos, confusion and fear reigning. People in charge needed to step up, and Gam Youngjae did so when needed. 

 

“Go, now! You too, Advisor! I will hear no more right now.” 

 

“Yes, my Lord!” The soldiers finally moved in the flurry of activity. 

 

Youngjae, still sounding quite livid, grabbed the arm of the cavalry captain and ordered aloud, for everyone to hear: 

 

“Send for the priestess. At night, in the morning, I don’t care. No one else leaves. I want an exorcism done!”