“When Biyoung saw it, she said that raccoon was a really rare one. Must have escaped from some zoo or something.
We took in that poor furry creature. Biyoung’s good at that kind of thing. Looking back, I wonder if my husband sent it to us. You know, those mysterious spirit beasts.”
Even if Joo Biyoung could communicate with animals better than most, there were still limits to what animals could understand.
But that bear and raccoon—they understood Joo Biyoung’s words like people would, showing an uncanny level of intelligence.
The elder believed they were gifts from her late husband and named them Gamja and Bamtol. They relied on each other and the pitiful animals for companionship.
Sometimes, they attempted to flee again, but without any information, they failed every time.
Joo Biyoung tried to use her abilities to ask birds for help, but they only said that their current location was the safest place around for now.
“My baby said that wind spirits like him rarely show themselves. They just appear briefly and then hide away. But when we tried to leave, he suddenly appeared and stopped us. Said we shouldn’t go.”
Even if Joo Biyoung could see things others couldn’t, it was rare for someone to have a wind spirit lingering nearby. The same was true for her mother, who also had the gift.
However, for some reason, Barami (the wind spirit) insisted that this place, where it had settled, was still relatively safe.
It promised to warn them if danger ever truly came, trying to protect the two by keeping them there.
The elder, who had been gazing into the distance, cleared her throat and continued in a calm voice.
“Being alone in such a remote place, I didn’t get to meet people very often. Folks started disappearing more and more.”
Even when they occasionally met someone, they couldn’t trust them. They had to be on guard to avoid being robbed and to protect what they had.
The elder, who had lived her whole life content with what she had and without greed, ended up taking someone’s life for the first time. Then once, twice, three times… eventually, more than she could count.
“I never knew people could be that cruel. I also didn’t know I could shoot so well.”
Thanks to the hunting rifle left by her late husband, she was able to protect her family from raiders. The rifle now slung over her shoulder was taken from one of them.
“My husband’s gun’s out of bullets, so we can’t use it anymore.”
Over time, they encountered more strangers than familiar faces.
And when they did see someone they recognized, it was rarely someone with fond memories.
These were people who used to badmouth Biyoung, calling her simple and strange for living with animals in seclusion.
But now they approached them, pretending to be friendly, trying to take what little the family had.
“Still, they were familiar faces, so I asked them to just go. Over and over. I don’t even remember how many times I pleaded. But they wouldn’t leave. They were set on taking what we had.”
“…….”
“So I prayed. To God, to Buddha. ‘Please, God. Buddha. I think I’m about to send off a few more. I really don’t want to, but please forgive me.’”
But the elder no longer needed to pray.
That day, a massive insect suddenly appeared from the other side of the forest. It snatched the people one by one, impaled them on the spikes protruding from its body, and calmly disappeared.
“They were screaming, ‘Please, save us! Save us!’ But once they got a bit farther, they started begging to be killed instead. ‘Just shoot us!’ they screamed. Their shrieking still rings in my ears. Nasty bastards.”
The giant insect hadn’t just shown up that day—it had been spotted around the area before, slowly wandering the mountain paths as if searching for prey.
Then, one day, when the elder had gone to the edge of the forest to gather greens, it appeared again.
“That bug bastard snatched my daughter-in-law right in front of me. I thought, ‘This must be the day I die. Am I finally going to meet my husband again?’ But then I thought, ‘What about Biyoung?
How can she be left alone after losing her mother and grandmother on the same day?’ That was the only thing I couldn’t bear.”
And then, suddenly—
A thunderous roar split the sky and shook the mountains.
The elder claimed she saw the mountain move that day.
It was as if the mountain itself tried to swallow the insect whole.
What she saw while running for her life was a massive tiger slamming its paw into the insect’s head.
“It was like boom! Boom! Boom boom! Like the heavens were splitting apart, and the ground shook like an earthquake…”
The mountain lord’s roar was not something a mere human should ever hear.
To survive, the elder had to cover her ears and run as fast as she could, hoping not to get caught in the crossfire of that titanic battle.
“Maybe it got scared that day—since then, that bug bastard hasn’t come near this area.”
“…….”
Whether the mountain lord chased it off or something else happened, no one knew for sure. But after that, the strongest insect in the region no longer came close.
Still, later on, when the elder and Joo Biyoung spotted it from afar, they saw something—someone—still impaled on one of the spikes on its body.
“My daughter-in-law… How long do I have left to live? If I had one last wish before I die, it would be to destroy that damn insect and finally lay my daughter-in-law to rest properly, to let her lie in peace…”
Even the last time they saw it, Joo Biyoung’s mother was still hanging from the insect’s body.
Though her flesh had long since decayed, they recognized her from the clothes she had been wearing that day.
Strangely, the creature never ate her. Unlike the others, it kept her body attached, never discarding it.
Throughout the entire story, the elder stared off into the distance. Then, slowly, she turned her head. Her moist, shimmering eyes finally met mine.
“My wish changed after you all came. That’s why I want to ask you a favor, young man.
If I manage to blow that bug’s head right off…”
The elder paused for a moment, then nodded firmly as if making up their mind and continued.
“Take our Biyoung, along with Gamja and Bamtol… and go far, far away from here.”
“……”
I couldn’t respond right away.
We had to move along with the quest, but Ju Biyoung was a local here.
And wasn’t this place, with the Mountain Lord holding it down, practically a safe zone?
Sensing my thoughts easily, the elder gave a bitter smile and added, “You’re wondering why I’m asking you to take them far away when this place seems safe, right?”
“Honestly, yes. I’m worried. We don’t even know where our next destination is. It could be dangerous. So wouldn’t it be better to stay here, where the Mountain Lord is keeping watch?”
“If the Mountain Lord were the same as before, that would be true.”
“……”
“Our child is so kind—she worried about this old woman and didn’t want to burden me, so she didn’t explain in detail. But it’s clear the Mountain Lord isn’t what he used to be.”
“Do you mean he’s weakened?”
“When my daughter-in-law was still alive, she said something like that. That the Mountain Lord seemed to be gradually losing his strength.
But now that I look back, it wasn’t just the Mountain Lord—everything in this world is losing strength.”
Ju Biyoung’s mother’s powers had weakened ever since Ju Biyoung’s own abilities had fully awakened.
At the time she said that, she could no longer use her powers as she once did—but she could still feel it.
The energy flowing through the world—unseen by anyone, but undeniably real—was gradually fading.
“That feeling was like… everything had given up. Like it had stopped struggling to live and was just waiting for death to come.”
“…….”
She said the world had been deeply wounded by something.
That at first, it tried to endure, but now it seemed to have started accepting death rather than resisting.
That it no longer had the will to fight—only resignation remained.
‘Resigned to death…’
We hadn’t seen enough of this world to make a definitive judgment, but from what we had seen, it didn’t seem far off the mark.
Yet even in such a world, new life was still being born.
The natural order still existed. So what was this presence that Ju Biyoung’s mother felt—this presence that had given up on the world?
The elder had asked her too, but she said she didn’t know, and simply shook her head.
“There’s nothing certain. But I do know this—this place won’t stay safe forever.”
“……”
“That’s why I’m asking you. No, I’m asking you, young man.”
“Elder, we…”
I trailed off, not knowing what to say.
We didn’t even know where we were going next.
It could be a terribly dangerous road.
And the current important quest—to hunt down that bug boss monster—came with a death penalty if we failed.
We were lost too, uncertain what to do next.
There were so many things I wanted to say, but I didn’t want to speak anything that would shatter the elder’s hope.
But I also couldn’t bring myself to lie and say, “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of it,” when I didn’t even believe it myself.
The elder, watching me silently, smiled gently, so warmly it softened the wrinkles around her eyes.
“You know, I think you’re a really kind person.”
“Me?”
“Just look at you now. Anyone can say the words, ‘Of course, ma’am, I’ll do it.’ You could’ve easily said that and moved on. But you’re fidgeting like a puppy needing to pee, just because you can’t bring yourself to make even an empty promise.”
“…….”
“That’s why I’m asking you. Because you seem kind. The kind of person who would lose sleep ignoring an old woman’s plea.”
“I don’t think I’m all that kind.”
Sure, I try to live kindly. But if you asked whether I am a kind person… I don’t know.
Of course, if I refused the elder’s request, I’d probably lie awake at night thinking about it.
And if something bad happened later, I might regret it for the rest of my life.
But that’s not exactly the same as being a kind person, is it? That’s just guilt, a burden on my own conscience.
Even though I didn’t speak it aloud, the elder seemed to understand and emphasized again:
“You are. You are a kind person. That’s the good thing about getting old—you get better at seeing people for who they really are.”
“……”
She called me child one moment, then young man the next. The way she kept changing how she addressed me was a little amusing.
After that, the elder shared more stories—mostly rumors she’d heard from people who had passed through this place.
Much time had passed, so they might not be of much help now, but she wanted to share everything she could remember, just in case.
Some of the stories were ordinary.
Some were vague and dreamy.
And some were downright astonishing.
As the conversation went on and our bodies grew cold—so cold I began to shiver just slightly—
“There’s a place very far from here,” she said, “where an impossibly tall wall has been built.
And inside that wall, people live together in a safe city.”