The Mook Maker

Viceroy Gam Youngjae was furious. 

 

The blood thumped in his ears, and his heart paced, but he didn’t let any of that show on his face, even for a short moment. 

 

Youngjae didn’t consider himself suicidally brave, he even despised those who sought glory - and eventually death - in battle, but he was an expert at self-control. 

 

He was a king’s appointed official, used to both keep public and court appearances, as well as painfully aware of the necessity to stay collected during any kind of negotiation of a hearing, even ones that would inevitably upset as a result- but he was, nevertheless, angry. 

 

Very, very angry. 

 

It was a matter of irony, or perhaps a cruel twist of fate, that he was more irritated by the actions of his own people rather than the Evil Spirits that invaded his land. 

 

There was an unfortunate incident when his messenger sent to the city drowned when trying to swim across the river, but it was a sacrifice the Viceroy was willing to make - he imagined giving money to the courier’s family was acceptable, even praising the runner’s bravery in front of his other men.

 

The loyalty of his men to him first, and to the kingdom second, was of the utmost importance now that he decided to completely avoid participating in the war, hesitating to open the stores for the remnants of the army sent to defend the capital. He truly believed that he could outlast his enemies as the opposing sides exhausted each other, then make arrangements with whoever stood victorious in the end.  

 

His soldiers, for the most part, had met his expectations, they protected his holdings and with them, their own homes, against bandits and marauders, and he, in turn, didn’t expect them to die in the pointless war that didn’t bring Youngjae any benefit.

 

He would deal with the Jin barbarians and even with the Evil Spirit from beyond the Mortal Realm, when necessary, it didn’t matter to Youngjae.

 

What he didn’t expect was for the fear and panic to set in so early on. 

 

His soldiers reacted in a way he didn’t predict, breaking his trust at that point and it was the fault of that accursed woman he had believed would do the opposite - keep the morale up!

 

The opposite had happened. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae didn’t consider gods worthy of anything but symbolic gestures to placate their vain desires, just as the mortal royals would - he would have never predicted he would be challenged by someone loyal to them any more than he would have been challenged by the fealty to the current king. 

 

He was wrong. 

 

When the insolent wretch of the priestess refused to follow his orders, and with them his plans, when she was threatening to turn his own garrison against him thanks to the panic among his own soldiers she helped to create - it had been too much. 

 

She almost succeeded.

 

The Viceroy wouldn’t tolerate this level of disrespect mixed with the gross defiance of his authority anymore, and when his attempt to find another, more amiable person to replace her failed, there wasn’t any other option.

 

The priestess had to be disposed of.

 

She was. 

 

It wouldn’t prevent the predictable riot among the men considering the abysmal morale among the defenders of the fort, but there was no other option. 

 

At least, without her vocal opposition, the Viceroy had a chance to offer the terrified men salvation - of the sacrifice he would have to make himself by talking to the Evil Spirits to avoid the battle the soldiers themselves didn’t believe in anymore. 

 

It worked. 

 

Some of his men were even inspired by this action, but most were too frightened to care, proving to Youngjae that he made the right choice. 

 

There was a risk of turning against him in the most spectacular way should the Spirits prove duplicitous in nature, the Viceroy was painfully aware of this, cursing his luck, but his good judge of human behaviour told him to take the risk with the beings from beyond instead. 

 

As much as he still hated the perils his path offered, they were necessary, and preferable than to face the treachery of that woman. 

 

If the garrison of shortsighted levies didn’t listen to that accursed priestess rabble he would have had time to manoeuvre himself to a much more favourable negotiating position, but it was no longer an option.

 

Those fools would cut themselves apart before the damn Jin barbarians or any Evil Spirits even reached them, and it infuriated the Viceroy greatly. He had plans!

 

Idiots. Stupid peasants. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae was far too furious to fear the Evil Spirits - this was his game now, and he was in control as he should be, even if it would ultimately lead to this downfall. 

 

This was his rule, and even the intermediary between the earthly and divine wasn’t going to interfere with it now - the memory that the damn priestess dared to refuse still rang in his head. 

 

In a way, he regretted sending that runner and the man’s subsequent death - that man, volunteering to swim past the wild-flowing river and sneak past the enemy, was exactly the kind of follower the Viceroy wanted. 

 

Youngjae hated losing things which he considered valuable. 

 

He, nevertheless, maintained a stoic face, and continued, approaching the enemy as the emissary personally, as he promised to the scared men in the fort, and continued on foot even as the horses refused to advance. It was confirming his worries. 

 

The Spirits were prepared for his soldiers attempting to break through, the thorns so large they would drive through the horse were enough to deter a charge, and there were easily enough barriers to stop the infantry from rushing into the melee. 

 

There was an envoy to meet him in the middle of the fields, even when the remnants of the cavalrymen were forced to stay behind, and only the captain of the guards and the unruly old Sage remained.  

 

The Viceroy would reward the captain later. The more undisciplined, eccentric and occasionally rude Sage was, however, on the line. 

 

Once he had dealt with more urgent matters.

 

Now he looked at a winged creature sitting on the shoulder of the fleshy abomination - the thing made the Viceroy’s skin crawl, but the Spirit it carried wasn’t at the very least disgusting to look at, even if it - her - otherworldly appearance defied any human nature. 

 

The Spirits either had a peculiar idea of the mounts or opted to simply scare his men. If it was the latter, it worked considering he was left almost alone, aside from the two people, even his most trained hesitated to follow blindly.

 

The monsters were inviting him to meet their leader at the edge of their camp in a broken speech, which was partially expected. 

 

What was unexpected was the fact there was a human among them too, reasonably more proficient in the language which made a more proper way to address the Viceroy, but he paid less attention to what she said and more to what she represented. 

 

Shifting focus helped to aviate the overbearing heaviness in the air as the unseen magic powers were pulsating ahead, a likely explanation for the strange feeling Youngjae had. 

 

Though the woman spoke in the local dialect with a barely noticeable accent, it was the Southerner features which caught Youngjae’s attention, with her skin complexity a little too dark, with contoured facial features and the deeply set eyes - he would not have expected to find a Quan’s witch here. 

 

She was too well dressed to be a camp follower, which left him with assumptions she was the guide or the interpreter the Spirits trusted.

 

It, however, also suggested that the Spirits army had come from the far south-eastern coast to recruit Quan into their ranks, and made him wonder whether there was a truth in the claim that there was an army coming from the south. 

 

The curiosity for the first time overpowered the anger, even if the answer ultimately didn’t change his situation. 

 

He didn’t pay much attention to the line of heavy infantry the Spirits assembled to oversee the meeting, towering, hulking creatures, outfitted with full metal armour of the most unusual design, each of them easily taller than their human counterparts. 

 

They, in fact, felt insignificant compared to their leader. 

 

The warlord wasn’t hard to identify. 

In spite of the Vicerory’s expectations, the leader of the Evil Spirits completely eschewed any armour, clothing or even accessories that would easily identify him as the commander, instead, he was seemingly satisfied with the robes more befitting of the merchant rather than a warlord. Yet still, he appeared far from being unthreatening. 

 

The fleeing facade of the human face was completely broken by the glowing eyes reflecting unearthly powers, combined with the sense of the strong, unnatural presence that vastly exceeded the diminutive mask of the relatively average human body.

 

There was a pure, unfettered feeling of wrongness about him, an oppressive sensation even the strongest Adepts couldn’t ever dream to inspire. He didn’t speak the local language, vocalising his intent through incomprehensible chants. 

 

One of the disgusting abominations that served as mounts or perches for the winger spirits translated the words of welcome in the language of the Hanulbeol. Their form was quite horrible and difficult to understand, yet their pronunciation was unusually good for a foreigner. 

 

“Lord. Viceroy. Greetings! Please! The seat you take!” 

 

It was better than the original tongue of the warlord, which made the Viceroy’s skin crawl. 

 

A female red fox spirit dressed in the common armour of the cavalryman, with the plumed helmet tucked under one arm, showed him the way, gesturing towards a common bedroll spread over the wet grass for him to sit. 

 

The Viceroy quickly scanned the gathered Evil Spirits, a veritable collection of the terrors from beyond the mortal realm, and quickly assumed that the red one was an equivalent of the captain, and thus of no concern. He overlooked her.

 

Ones which stood behind the warlord, a silver fox spirit with multiple tails tucking from the expensive festival dress, along with the pale wolf creature in the armour with the colours of the Royal Guard were more notable. 

 

They too, emanated presence, just like the more strange one resembling a horned rat, with equally pale fur. 

 

Gam Youngjae was offered a seat on the bedroll spread across the grass - a field condition, unfit for an official of his standing, was a mildly annoying, yet ultimately forgivable misstep for a leader who spent far too much time on the march.

 

He knew those types. It was a sad truth that those still found their way to the human court, but he couldn’t fault this on some spectre from the Spirit Realm.

 

Youngjae bowed, in the polite matter-of-fact way which he perfected during his stay at the Royal Court - a greeting for an official of equal standing which didn’t show any sign of submission the other would exploit, using the opportunity to calm himself down from the unsettling feelings caused by the unnatural powers. 

 

The Spirit’s aura ticked in his nerves, but he nevertheless remained collected, now struggling not only with the turmoil of emotions from the priestess’ betrayal, and the unreliable nature of his men but also the overbearing nature of the otherworldly powers which inkled on his nerves. 

 

“This one is the Viceroy Gam Youngjae, appointed by the current king as the steward of the province of Surao, to negotiate the peace with the Spirits.” 

 

He said in a diplomatic tone, then finally took the offered place on the bedroll, while the winged ones spoke softly to convey the meaning to their leader, indirectly confirming they would be translating the conversation. 

 

“Excellent. Seat. Take. Talks we welcome.” The two deformed creatures serving as perches for the winged translator croaked at the same time.

 

The Spirit’s warlord in the meantime also took a seat cross-legged on a different bedroll placed two paces away from the one designed for the human representative, suggesting this was some custom of theirs - it wasn’t worse than to reason with the Jin barbarians, Youngjae had assumed. 

 

Then the warlord spoke again. His language was completely alien, unknown, hostile to the ears in its nature, refusing to betray even the slightest meaning or intent through its harsh tones, leaving Youngjae slightly confused, however before he could consult his advisor - who should be behind him right now - both of the abominations spoke in unison. 

 

“We pleased are. We finally with humans negotiate. No interest in fighting.” The thing grumbled, grossly butchering proper speech, yet doing it with the subdued pronunciation fit for the lower classes: “Soon this peace found. Soon search for answers we could. Soon find the scroll. To this all.”

 

The Viceroy briefly considered claiming he had information about the whereabouts of the scroll which would be very valuable to trade at this very moment, but opted against it, recalling that his advisor mentioned that the Spirits bladed the Jin barbarians for seizing the relic. 

 

In fact, the Spirit’s army fighting against the Jin Empire would serve him well in the long term, regardless of who would win in the end, as long as it took the conflict away from his doorstep. Diverting their attention was preferable indeed

 

The only worry was the Spirit’s warlord not honouring their deal, but ultimately, he wasn’t any different from the more mortal Jin in that regard. Viceroy’s thoughts racing through his mind were however interrupted by a question

 

“Where. The Priestess. Is?” 

 

He didn’t expect this, but he was, nevertheless, quick to answer.

 

“She is dead.” Youngjae said, “Consider her executed for treason.” 

 

It seemed to please the warlord and his malformed speakers confirmed: 

 

“Excellent. If priestess we found, we kill her.” 

 

Apparently, the Spirit’s hate for the priestess matched his own, even if their motivation was certainly different likely because of something she had done with her magic to the other side, an effect which faded with her death explaining the Warlord’s satisfaction. 

 

Perhaps it was a curse which was now broken - however, there was no one to verify the mechanism of this, since it challenged the powers bestowed upon by the gods and the forces Youngjae had no interest in, yet could be crucial to know regardless. Except, there was no reliable way to get an unbiased explanation from someone dedicated to fighting the spirits.

 

His eyes searched the group, presuming the witch would know, even if he wasn’t allowed to question her. 

 

Then something else caught the Viceroy's attention. 

 

Gam Youngjae briefly looked at the abomination, noticing something wrong about those monstrous, sickly creatures forced to speak as a chorus at the whim of the others, and how disgustingly different they were from the rest of the spirits. 

 

The Spirits, and the Quan witch too, paid them no regard, but they were the only beings that broke the cues the other monsters implied. 

 

It was then that the realisation hit the Viceroy - those were humans, once, tormented prisoners of the flesh, mechanically repeating the words of their masters. Despite the fact that Youngjae did take the existence of slavers into consideration, he didn’t consider this would be under the effect of such horrifying magic.

 

Was a winged one’s dress made of skin? 

 

He shook slightly. 

 

“So you want slaves?” 

 

The warlord replied when the words to him, their speech still completely intelligible, yet the translation didn’t take long. 

 

“No slaves. No gold, no gold and silver. The peasants on our side we can return. We fortress take and food stores in.” 

 

“Keep the peasants,” He said with a brief glance at the deformed creature made him more willing to abandon the farmers to their doom, even if to spare his own men from the revelation of what would happen to them to prevent further panic, and not sink their morale, not to mention the other risks. The sinking feeling of uneasiness was, once again, finding the way back to his heart. 

 

“On this side of the river, we stay. For scroll search answers. For winter dug in if not.” 

 

As strange and slightly unnerving as this method of communication was, it always involved the short dialogue between the warlord and the winged one, a demonic bat perhaps, only to be followed by the torrent of words spat by the enthralled. 

 

“We dug in if the prize was not found. If another place we need to be, we leave..” 

 

Despite the haphazardly arranged, and slightly confusing sentences, the message itself seemed clear - they wanted the fortified location to conduct the raids on the surrounding lands in search of something very specific. 

 

The whole matter of the scroll relic was foreign to the Viceroy, he didn’t personally have any interest in it other than as something he could trade for leverage, but it was without a doubt valuable. 

 

He couldn’t help himself and break eye contact with the warlord, checking for his advisor - if Sage was right, the Jin barbarians were after the artefact as well. His advisor, surprisingly quiet, soundlessly worded the name of the relic in question but didn’t interrupt the conversation. 

 

The old man, obsessed with the Library of Pho-us-kah, could prove to be something the Viceroy could employ as leverage if only he had time to manoeuvre. 

 

If Youngjae only knew what the Crown Princess had to do with anything of this.

 

The Royal family must have known about this! The Evil Spirits didn’t mention it - either ignorant about the affair or comfortable with the option that the member of the Royal family slipped away.

 

A ransom wasn’t their intent, they didn’t even bother to verify whether she had fled. 

 

It was, despite the otherworldly powers they wielded, a very understandable motive, as any invading army would inevitably plunder the province’s food stores along with all the valuables they found, limiting their demands to the rations within the fortress proper was quite modest. 

 

“My people need food too,” Youngjae replied automatically, forgetting the decorum as it seemed the Spirits cared for none and he already calculated the losses it would take. 

 

“We know. The other side river yours. The city stores yours. Leave you can. If your soldier does not fight, leave armour and can go! You keep the coin, trade with your kind.”  

 

Releasing the garrison unarmed, but unharmed, was despite the apparent risks of being betrayed and caught unprepared attempting to cross the floodplains between the river and the city, a boon of its own. Especially if he could leverage the survivors’ opinion for his benefit, making sure that the men were personally loyal to him should anything similar happen in the future. 

 

“River as the border.” Gam Youngjae considered - as far as he knew, the river didn’t divide the valley equally, leaving the more fertile land - and his property - still completely his. 

 

Chunnan wasn’t an impressive provincial city, a primary reason why Youngjae’s predecessors were quite uninterested and unpleased with their appointment to the region, with the walls far too pathetic for any attacker to worry about, but it had large granaries and craftsmen quarters working iron from the mountains. 

 

He would not win the open conflict, but that wasn’t his intent - for now, he needed a guarantee of safety for himself and his holdings.

 

“Do you search access through our lands?” He tried to confirm 

 

“We might or might not.” The Warlord said ambiguously through his terrifying translator. He struggled with disgust, considering what Spirits would do to the farmers, but he was willing to trade it. His mind was once again occupied with his options, and the leader of the Spirit let him think.

 

He exchanged a few words with his own beastly advisors, in their own completely barbaric tongue, likely wanting to confirm the findings of their own scouts. 

 

Youngjae wasn’t able to read their emotions. In that regard, they were worse than ordinary barbarians. 

 

This, of course, wasn’t a surprise - if their army followed to mountains, they had the eastern pass, or were limited to trying to sail the wild river, unsure whether they needed to even march west. They wanted the Library, and the collection of relics may not be secured in the King’s vaults anymore, considering the events that transpired. 

 

Where they really were, Youngjae’s was willing to bet that Spirit did not know. The Crown Princess, still in Chunnan, would! This was beneficial to him. 

 

The Viceroy could reequip his men, and if the Spirits honoured their deal, mount his own expedition, then trade the results with whoever was the strongest to give him what he needed. 

 

If they did, the biggest worry was that the warlord would demand tribute later, likely in goods over gold, but if he was relatively safe he could, once again, play the game. 

 

“What guarantees can this one receive?” He asked scanning the surroundings in an attempt to get a bearing of the situation, and the possible outcomes, but the otherworldly creatures were as inscrutable as ever.

 

“On our honour. No fight no harm done.” was the response

 

Gam Youngjae didn’t believe in it. There was, nonetheless, a real possibility that the Spirits did consider a spoken deal inviolable, but the deception and lies were equally as likely and considering their otherworldly nature there was no way to know beforehand. 

 

The Viceroy was in no position to make demands. 

 

The Spirit’s leader was supposedly worried about his progeny, but he couldn’t risk the refusal, and having the hostage in the form of Spirits would recreate the problem he was currently trying to solve, and he wanted to keep the trust of his men!

 

Then he realised it - the witch. The Quan woman was likely important to them to invite her there, but her presence wouldn’t lead to the same trouble with his own men, plus would provide the wellspring of information he so desperately needed. 

 

She was likely the one who guided the army to the Surao mountains, and though her absence was unlikely to limit the ability to carry our raids or continue the fighting, it may inconvenience them at least a little bit in the short term before they obtained another guide. If they wanted to do the same thing the Jin did - match directly on capital, they need to be confident when they are doing it. 

 

“We want the witch to accompany us to the city when we leave.” The Viceroy demanded strictly, then adding: “As a guarantee for safety.” 

 

He tried to read the warlord's expression after making the demand. Though the leader of the Evil Spirits did reply almost immediately, it was difficult to tell whether he was displeased or confused in response. 

There was an exchange between him, and the bat Spirit before the enthralled abomination was allowed to spit the reply:

 

“Ari. Mean you. She can go. Tell people in the city. Not worry.” 

 

It was accepted quite quickly, which made the Viceroy question whether it was indeed a sacrifice for the other side he could exploit, or whether he accidentally asked for someone whom they could easily sacrifice. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae didn’t like the terms, however, there was no reason to outwardly refuse the deal which didn’t demand him to immediately surrender the fort to the enemy, allowing him to stall, while effectively ceasing the fighting. 

 

Although certainly unfavourable, it opened options. 

 

He simply couldn’t insist on hostilities at this point. 

 

Then a brief moment of enlightenment stoked him - while he couldn’t prevent the betrayal, he could instead use the complete adherence to the terms presented for his advantage in a very easy way, giving him time to find the alternative.

 

“We accept the terms of the truce, we swear our men won’t attack yours. We return to the fortress, we need time to arrange for the bridge repairs when your men allow free passage and stop attacks. Your witch will accompany us. We hold the fort until the route is secured to transport the treasury, then surrender it to you.” 

 

Assuming the Spirit’s adherence to the deal they presented the Viceroy was, even after the technical surrender, entitled to the contents of his own treasury, which would take some time to transport into the city proper, allowing Youngjae to interrogate the witch.

 

Even sacrificing the gold and silver was, in fact, an option, after stalling for long enough to form a better, more profitable plan. 

 

It was brilliant, he thought. 

 

The warlord had a brief exchange with his aides, all in their own indecipherable bestial tongue, but there wasn’t any sign of disagreement between them, and finally, the transition confirmed it. 

 

“We agree. Don’t attack ours. Don’t attack yours we will. We repair the bridge plan, allowed transport, and your soldiers did not shoot. All gold and silver yours.” 

 

If they intended to repair the bridge themselves, it would only delay them, so there was no reason to object to it.

 

“So this one swears he and his men will honour the deal.” 

 

Youngjae confirmed, in words and gestures, and upon standing up, bowed respectfully to the warlord, the Quan’s witch was ready to depart along with him without the word spoken once she too bowed to the warlord. 

 

When he departed the monster’s position, an unseen presence behind his back, he was briefly afraid that they would, in fact, betray their words immediately by shooting him in the back, but no such thing happened.

 

The sage blabbered on his own about the search for the Scrolls of Pho-us-kah, annoying and rude as so many times before, but Youngjae overlooked it for the time being - the old man’s knowledge would be more valuable now than his ability to hold his mouth shut and his words at least respectably polite. 

 

The witch was silent, and so was the captain who accompanied him.

 

As the distance between him and the sinister magic of his enemies grew, he was more confident, allowing him to reunite with the men who opted to follow him there, a relief on their faces notable once they realised they wouldn’t have to fight against the inscrutable odds and were ready to return within the safety of their fortress for now. 

 

Youngjae was already mentally preparing for the speech he was going to give to the rest of his soldiers, how to tell them this was the best option, and without the discordant voice of the Priestess, he was confident he was able to do it. 

 

Then everything broke down. 

 

An arrow whooshed through the air, hitting the ground in front of him.

 

Then another, and another. 

 

Not behind! In the front! Archers in his own fortress were firing at them! 

 

A horseman fell, stuck by the arrow in the throat, gurgling blood, then another narrowly saved by the armour yet still thrown down by the horse.

 

There was a confusion.

 

The witch was hit, but the woman, entirely unphased by the injury tore the arrow out and spread her hands, daring the archers to hit her again.

 

“This one is not afraid!” 

 

Then a projectile struck the Viceroy’s leg - the pain of the injury drove him to the ground

 

There was chaos, as his men tried to scramble and flee, however, there was nowhere to go, as their former comrades were firing at them, and the only place to retreat to was the enemy lines where the creatures from beyond this world dwelled. 

 

The only thing Youngjae managed to cry out in rage mixed with frustration: 

 

“Treachery!” 

 

The witch disappeared, pulled through the shifting rift into nothingness by one of the Spirits, and soon the hulking abomination appeared in their midsts, drawing the attention of the archers. It didn’t show care or fear.  

 

“Your men. Unreliable. Change deal we must!” 

 

Youngjae’s leg faltered, the blood gushing out, his vision already begging to mist up, with the agony taking over. 

 

Another one of his faithful men was struck down. 

 

“I surrender.” He screamed, and then shouted at his loyalist remnants: “Run towards the Evil Spirit’s lines!” 

 

They hesitated, and then they did. 

 

The fire exploded on the castle’s battlements, breaking the barrage. 

 

Youngjae looked back. 

 

Hundreds of spirits rushed across the field, fearless, some laughing, with the battle cry in their bestial tongue. 

 

Spirit’s bats took flight, headed towards the keep, the air filled with indescribable screeches that filled the air, their unnatural power seeping down the soul and the mind, but the wound in the leg burned much worse than the effect of the foreign magic. 

 

The ground was so wet, the slipping mind suggested.

 

Or was it the blood? 

 

The stronghold, and its walls, and everything was so far away - but Youngjae could still hear the screams.

 

There were so many screams. 

 

From the wound in the space itself, a strange rat emerged alongside a cat-like Spirit. A pale one, adored with horns he saw in the monster assembly, lowered herself to the wounded man.

 

Then with a sickly glow came even more suffering. 

 

Before he lost consciousness and slipped away into oblivion, Viceroy Gam Youngjae was certain of one thing - he was furious. 

 

And again, it wasn’t directed at the monsters.