The Mook Maker

Viceroy Gam Youngjae hadn’t expected to see the consequences of his last action.

 

When he had requested the Evil Spirit's assistance, he was in immense pain from the mortal stab wounds, bleeding profusely, beyond any help. He had known he was going to die, and it was his last, dying wish, to take the treacherous magistrate with him. The agony had been unbearable, and so the witch's words were but a fading glimmer in the sunset of the Viceroy’s consciousness. It would be over soon, and his brief suffering would be nothing compared to what the Spirits would do to the treacherous magistrate.

 

It would be Youngjae’s vengeance from beyond the grave. 

 

Yet, his expectations did not come to pass. 

 

 Gam Youngjae didn’t die that day. 

 

He woke up the next day, completely healed, the injuries that would mean his death gone as though they never existed. 

 

Only his ornate robes encrusted in the stinking, dried blood remained as proof it had really happened.

 

Gam Youngjae was alive. The price he would have to pay for this wondrous recovery, however, was yet to be revealed. He doubted that such a power would come without the cost - all miracles came at a cost, after all - and this has been the second time the Spirits had to intervene to save his life. 

 

They wouldn’t have done it without a reason. 

 

He was now in debt, he realised, the severity of which was not to be understated or underestimated as it went beyond silver and gold. The options of how the Evil Spirit could collect what had been owned to them would be terrifying to the lesser man. 

 

Youngjae had already witnessed what they could do. 

 

Worse yet, there didn’t seem to be any way for him to escape his further obligations. He might once have had a strategy, a plan of escape, or a skill or the knowledge to find the way to profit from almost every situation. 

 

It was more than enough to make him nervous.

 

His initial assumption about the spirits, the one where he surrendered the fortress, did work, after all. 

 

It was, however, blatantly clear that he was grasping the very end of his rope, quickly sliding away. He couldn’t think of any leverage he could use in negotiation, and even something as simple as fleeing doesn’t seem to be a viable tactic.

 

The war made finding safe havens very difficult, especially in his current situation. 

 

The palace was already overrun, dozens of the Evil Spirits haunted its shrouded hallways, and Youngjae could sense the invisible eyes boring into him from all the corners, and there were more unseen watchers peering from every shadow. 

 

There were whispers in the walls.

 

A translucent silhouette moved behind the paper walls, the same motes of air that followed the Quan witch everywhere were now stalking him. At this point, he already knew it was the Spirits. Guards, or jailers, perhaps. 

 

Yet, Youngjae had not been the only soul trapped within. 

 

The handful of men from his personal guard had survived - the most reliable ones, those he would rely on should be forced to escape the province - his most faithful, most trusted men. There were so precious few of them left. 

 

Their captain of the guard, and viceroy’s right hand, was dead, killed by the usurpers, as were a few of their comrades, but others survived, surrendering to the Evil Spirits for the second time. 

 

It saved their lives. 

 

They brought him new clothes. He had plenty within the palace. They even prepared him a meal, since the usual servants were now all gone. Youngjae didn’t ask what had happened to them. He did not want to know. 

 

Tasteless grub made by the men who were used to simply preparing the soldier’s rations was beneath someone of Viceroy’s status, but Youngjae swallowed the urge to complain about the food, along with indignity, realising the power and influence he might have once had waned away.

 

After all, his subjects may not recognize his authority anymore, considering he already faced not one, but two mutinies. Both of them nearly cost him his life. 

 

He might no longer have men to lead. 

 

As far as he knew, the city garrison, one intended for mostly keeping order, rather than city defence, had been completely decimated. They were the only armed men the city’s magistrate could turn to when attempting to overthrow Youngjae, and it was fair to assume that the city guardsmen must be all but gone. Perhaps a few lived, he couldn’t be sure, but even were they were at full strength, it barely mattered. 

 

The situation here mirrored the one back in the fortress in a terrifying way: the city guards died - or worse - the moment they crossed the Evil Spirits, leaving the city practically undefended, and in chaos.

 

He didn’t have any news about what was happening out there. 

 

It was possible that the city didn’t yet awaken to the full realisation of what had transpired. Chunnan used to be a deceivingly orderly city, the crime too rare, with the citizens too meek, which lulled Youngjae’s predecessors until they did not feel the need for massive garrisons.

 

This proved to be a mistake, it made the city far too vulnerable should the fortress guarding it fall, an error which Youngjae failed to remedy even when he had started with the limited conscription to fight off bandits and marauders.

 

It would work - under certain circumstances - but it was too late. 

 

Gam Youngjae would have plenty of chances for regret later. 

 

Now, Viceroy’s most loyal soldiers were reduced to approximately five or so men. They decided that their best chance of survival was to align themselves with the Spirits, seeing that there were no other viable options. It was ironic that the Viceroy taught his most trusted men to side with the other. Maybe he taught them too well. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae was now a prisoner in his own domain. 

 

Or rather, under the Spirits’ protection. 

 

While those two things were not necessarily the same, he felt he had his hands tied, despite there being no rope to bind them. Only the whispers in the wall, lingering at the very edge of his hearing.

 

There was even a chance that the Evil Spirits would simply let him go should he ask. He felt it would inevitably lead to the very outcome he achieved when his fortress fell, when the Evil Spirits honoured the letter of the agreement.  

 

Yet, Gam Youngjae was not the one to give up easily. He would find a way to profit even from this situation. As long as they weren't like those deformed abominations, enslaved to the will of the Spirits, the ones they used to communicate, there was a chance.

 

He only had to find out what the game actually was.

 

With the captain of the guard dead, and no militia to lead, he decided to seek counsel from his advisor, San Hyun-Ki, and also seek the assistance of the last remaining priest within the city.

 

An armed struggle was out of the question.

 

If he couldn’t achieve a victory with the nearly complete regiment of fully equipped soldiers, attempting to fight with the last five swordsmen wasn’t an option he would even entertain. They weren’t Adepts. 

The chances were slim to non-existing, even had they been Adepts?. Considering the speed with which the fortress fell, even the five Adepts would not turn the tide of spirits storming their walls. The true Sword Adept, a Disciple even, could win against the trained warrior in the duel, but no man won the wars alone. 

 

A more creative, less violent path had to be taken, especially now there weren’t any armies to raise and field. 

 

Even the fact he was allowed to meet with the priest and his advisor shone a ray of hope upon the Viceroy’s situation. The Spirits allowed them to move around freely, which implied a certain level of trust, or at least good faith, he could use to his benefit. 

 

Carefully. 

 

It was the priestess’ magic that held the fortress, he realised, and he needed to bargain for a better prize for the blessing he needed, assuming the city wasn’t too large to ward off against the sinister magic. There used to be several priestesses originally, but they all disappeared, leaving only the single ageing man behind. Maybe the Viceroy could exploit the sense of abandonment…  

 

Gam Youngjae didn’t know the priest’s name though, unsure where to start - and after a brief conversation with the man, he decided that he didn't need to. 

 

The priest had gone insane. All he did was rave about the voices only he could hear, about the forces beyond human comprehension that lurked just behind the edge of the light, and embracing the inevitable doom. It was apparent that the priest not only lost his mind but also his powers as well, making him completely useless. 

 

Youngjae hasn’t been interested in the matters of the divine for all his life. Though he could not deny the existence of the mystical powers people blessed by them held, he never considered it more than a favour he needed to bargain for. Just as the gods demanded the sacrifices upon their altars, the priestesses demanded payment for their respective services and ultimately, the power they beseeched was nothing more than the distant capital demanding the local city’s tribute, whimsical in their demand as any mortal monarch would be. 

 

Now, that arrangement has also become dubious at best, unworkable and even worthless at worst. 

 

The Viceroy did not know whether it would be indeed possible for a goddess to side with the Spirits, but one thing was certain - if the viceroy would not be using the clergy’s divine-given powers for his advantage, there was no reason to consider them anymore. 

 

He dismissed the man.

 

The priest could convocate with the voices in his head. 

 

San Hyun-Ki, on the other hand, was better adjusted. The Sage didn’t learn any polite behaviour since his very last conversation with the Viceroy, but was much better informed when it came to Spirits’ actions. 

 

They were sending their scouts further north-east. 

 

Apparently, they did learn the location of a Scroll somewhere, and it wasn’t from the Sage, but didn’t know the land and were in desperate need of maps, or guides, which would lead them to the location they were looking for without scurrying through every corner of the forest and hills. 

 

The informant, whoever he was, was able to supply them with information Gam Youngjae hadn’t even heard rumours of during his many years of court intrigue, may be lying in order to gain favour or wealth, but the possibility that the information was genuine could not be underestimated. 

 

Between the Evil Spirits very existence, and the powers they wielded, outlandish claims could not be completely disregarded anymore. 

 

The Viceroy wasn’t sure who the informant was, nor where he came from, and neither did the Sage. 

 

After all, the very existence of the Scrolls was a secret only a select few knew about. 

 

Gam Youngjae certainly wasn’t one of the privileged few.

 

Perhaps they captured the crown princess herself and forced her to talk. That was certainly possible and would explain the knowledge. Who else could be closer to the current king than his very own daughter, and the only child and heir? She would know, even if women couldn’t be trusted with such knowledge. 

 

Never underestimate what others may hear, he reminded himself. Where there are whispers in the walls, there must be ears and eyes as well. 

 

As mysterious as the news about the forgotten relics were, the fact they did not have a map was, however, entirely believable. 

 

The royal cartographers were very skilled in their craft, and the kings, past or present, wanted to see the realm they ruled. Hence, many detailed maps had been made, exploring every corner of Hanulbeol-guk only to be locked away in the archives among the many countless census reports and historical records. 

 

They were, for the expense at which they were made, considered a state secret.  

 

The Viceroy, however, as any official of equal standing, was privy to the details regarding the province he was to govern. Surao was not particularly prestigious, but there were records and maps of the province. There were deeds to the land Gam Youngjae and his ancestors owned, and even a census on the population of this accursed place. This province was part of the kingdom for centuries, long before Gam Youngjae was born, long before his ancestor had even dreamed of ascending to the favour of the royal court. 

 

Of course, it would be mapped. The officials, dispatched and recalled to and from Surao would be given everything they needed to perform their tasks. 

 

It was no surprise that the Spirits didn’t find any. Surao was to be governed from the city of Chunnan, nominally, and previous Viceroy’s never bothered with the fortress which Youngjae deemed as much safer. There was never a reason to have the records moved. The moist grounds near the river would have them mould in months. 

 

It was a surprise that Hyun-Ki didn’t direct the Spirits to the city archives though - the Sage was the one who was supposed to be most familiar with them - but for the first time, Gam Youngjae wasn’t unhappy about the apparent oversight of his underling. It was for the first time where the incompetence would bear the fruit, instead of being the failure he as the higher ranked official would have to take responsibility for. 

 

For the first time, he was quite happy to let Hyun-Ki prattle on about the lost relics, and couldn’t help himself but smile as he thought of the ways to leverage that advantage to his benefit. 

 

The city’s magistrate was dead and would not tell any tales. The archivist and his apprentices would either flee the city or hide themselves in the building as long as there was a danger lurking outside. Their job was, unlike Hyun-Ki’s, not to know, but to keep the records undamaged. The Sage, however, was too distracted, obsessed with his search for the relics, and failed to consider all possibilities. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae  knew something the enemy needed, at least for the time being. 

 

They got as far as the palace. 

 

They were whispers in the walls. 

 

The Spirits would find out, eventually. 

 

Until then, the Viceroy could be the one indispensable to their efforts. 

 

Viceroy queried about the Scrolls and the obsessed Sage was only happy to give him the answers he needed. Apparently, the Evil Spirits did find out that the elusive relics weren’t all confined to the royal treasury and were ready to send their raiding parties to rob every tomb they could find. 

 

He understood that. There was no difference from what the Jin barbarians would have done. 

 

Disrespect towards the ancestors aside, it would quickly lead to a more directed search. It was only a matter of time before the warlord leading the spirits, or one of his lieutenants, would call for results, to narrow the search. The mysterious informant did certainly provide them with the landmarks to follow, ones which would also be drawn into the maps they needed, and it would allow them to narrow the search even if the final prize was kept out of all records.

 

Their outriders would skirmish with the Jin, or with the remnants of the royal army, and wouldn’t be ready to send their forces in blind, and Youngjae could bide his time.

 

The Sage rattled some more, referencing some battles that took place a century ago, or perhaps more. They were whispers in the walls. 

 

Viceroy focused and tried to collect his thoughts. 

 

The plan was indeed very simple.

 

The only thing he needed at the moment was the freedom of movement and the unrestricted access to the archives located very close to the palace’s main gate, and time to have the records sorted out, neither of which require soldiers, or resources, only the minor clerk to sift through the records. 

 

The Viceroy gave San Hyun-Ki a critical look. The Sage, albeit most suited, couldn’t be trusted in this, he would reveal it to the Spirits to get his hands to those accursed relics, but he wasn't the only person within the city that could read. 

 

However, before Youngjae managed to devise the plan on how to keep some findings secret from Hyun-Ki, a soldier had interrupted them both, albeit rather rudely considering he barged into the private meeting without being summoned.

 

“Speak.” 

 

“My Lord! The Spirits seek the audience with you.” The soldier barked out. It was not the best behaviour, but Gam Youngjae couldn’t allow himself to be picky about the company of late, especially when a loyal and reliable followers become something of the rarity, or nigh unto luxury even.

 

He stopped himself from voicing the offence he felt.

 

“Tell them I will see them soon.” He retorted, and stood up with the equal lack of proper decorum, dismissing the Sage.

 

“We will speak at a later date, Sage.” 

 

He ddin’t bother listening to the reply, he headed to the throne room where he would normally hold a meeting between the official, or receive an official plea and audiences. 

 

What once used to be a traditional ceremony that required decorum and respect was now nothing more than simply finding his way to the palace’s heart on his own and sitting down, alone, without the small assembly of lesser officials, without the honour guards, or even without the servants that cleaned the rooms and even opened the doors as he passed. 

 

As Gam Youngjae sat in his prominent place overlooking the room, he realised he was completely alone, abandoned by everyone.

 

Even this handful of men that remained within those abandoned halls didn’t dare to enter. 

 

Only the whispers in the walls that kept him company. Whispers, still lingering at the edge of his hearing. They were like the sound of the busy city behind the sedan’s curtains, or rather, a notion of the crowd his eyes couldn’t see. He swore the Spirits lurking within the palace halls talked behind his back.

 

He felt being watched.

 

It felt like the very walls had eyes, all unblinking towards him. 

 

It was eerie he didn’t see any of the Spirits' way to the throne room, despite the fact there were some here moments ago.

 

For several long moments, he stared into space, gathering his thoughts, formulating the strategy, but his mind, distracted, failed him. There weren’t further plots to weave, or further orders to give, or servants to carry them out. 

 

It was just him, and the unspoken question why the Spirits needed him. 

 

Did they acknowledge his skills, and would let him manage lands for them? 

 

Was Viceroy Gam Youngjae even a Viceroy where the only thing he had was his official attire? 

 

It wasn’t the clothes that made it official; it was the power - and for the first time in his life; he felt truly powerless. The uncertainty about his immediate future has become self-evident as his already few followers dared to even to stand guard, or even be anywhere close, almost as they awaited what the Evil Spirit’s verdict was .  

 

Maybe that was indeed the case. 

 

His life, in fact, depended on being useful. 

 

“We will see your warlord now.” He said to the empty hall. 

 

The actuality of such an act terrified him, yet he decided to tempt fate itself, to test whether the shifting shadows were in fact a mere product on his imagination, or the sign of something more sinister lurking within the walls  

 

He came to regret it immediately. 

 

In front of him, the empty air cracked open with the pure wrongness only the evil spirits could summon forth, like boils on the skin of the world itself, and the unspeakable, indescribable nature of the realms behind leaked out like the sanies from the wound. 

 

Youngjae shook a little. A perception of the thousand places all everywhere and nowhere challenged his senses, but he maintained a stoic posture as the disgusting portal spit out the inhuman creatures. 

 

He closed eyes for a while.

 

The words of the warlord spoken in the alien bestial tongue interrupted Youngjae’s attempts to maintain the focus, and unmoving expression. Then came the translation from the human they brought with them. 

 

“Lord…Viceroy…bargain make I come.” 

 

The man that translated was a former city guard - he still wore the armour - but the Viceroy doubted than anything reminded behind the dead, soulless eyes. The sight of the enthralled man was still less terrifying than the eyes of the leader of the Spirit army. That one was glowing with the power of the distant realms vastly beyond the comprehension of man.  

 

“What kind of bargain?” He asked, looking at the bat-Spirit who relegated the answer, quickly diverting the eyes away from her too. A creature with leathery wings for arms, dressed in an outfit that looked like it was made from human skin, was even more horrifying. Whether it was indeed a method of intimidation or it was a trick played on Youngjae’s struggling mind, he didn’t know. 

 

At least the warlord himself opted to dress like the Jin merchant, even if he clearly wasn’t one. 

 

Viceroy’s eyes wandered over the warlord’s personal retinue. 

 

The wolf-spirit, dressed in the armour of the royal guard, was one of the most reasonably attired of them, while the five tailed fox-like one dressed and acted rather like the rich courtesan. The horned rat-like spirit was, with the similar outfit to bone, skin and insect shards, equally nightmare inducing. 

 

Viceroy’s eyes briefly met the gaze of the rat-spirit. It felt like his very life essence could perish from looking into the ruby red, only his discipline prevented him from physically reacting. 

 

“A protection you asked for. Protection we offer. Under our. Military. Your current land will still be yours. We protect valley. You pay tax, in goods pay.” 

 

The involuntary translator enslaved by the Spirit’s magic spat out words seemingly at random, visibly struggling to bridge them between the expressions used by the warlord himself, or his half-bestial retinue, and the language of Hanulbeol. 

 

The leading Spirit himself was not a man of few words, that was certain, yet the meaning of most still eluded even those enthralled with his magic, or failed to find their counterpart in the local tongue, which would leave the Viceroy at the mercy of the Spirits should he agree to the uncertain conditions.

 

However, the Spirits themselves did not understand he was grasping for words, and forced their gruesome puppet to elaborate. 

 

“...we protect your lands and people. Taxes paid in gold and silver go all to you. Money we are not in need of. You remain an official. Viceroy. We receive payment in iron, steel, cloth, to armourer weaponsmiths make.” 

 

These were the terms he understood - the tribute he had to pay in exchange for his protection was an easy to understand, mortal term, not too different from what he would be subject to should he submit to the Jin themselves, and even the current king established a quota for what he expected from the provinces to provide. 

 

Not requesting the tribute to be paid in silver or gold was a generous term in itself. 

 

“And land I own? People that work that land? Who would be assigned as an official ruling the city?” He asked sharply, attempting to be as blunt as possible to avoid the misinterpretation through politeness. 

 

It was translated, and he didn't have to wait for the answer for too long, even though there was a brief exchange between the Spirits on the topic. What they disagreed on, or discussed, however, remained a mystery. 

 

“Form protect land, we suggest. Your lands stay yours. We govern the military. We are military. You govern… peasants. If they want, people can leave. If Jin comes, we will protect them if Jin comes. Peasants better leave than rebel. Peasants that stay better obey.” The soulless translator spat out the terms in the equal brashness. 

 

Viceroy hoped that the word they hesitated to use in relation to peasants did not mean anything else.

 

Demanding the tribute in slaves was, although unusual, a possibility, though Youngjae never recalled the slaves being an article of any trade or tribute. Fate of the prisoners of war, or the criminals, on the other hand …

 

He looked at the former member of the guard, its eyes empty, as it mechanically spoke the words.

 

“People leave we allow they want Leave they can. No need to spark rebellion. If rebel we punish. Better go.. ” 

 

The translation was, without a doubt, clunky, reflecting the innumerable differences between the way the Spirits communicated and the ones of the man, while some other expressions seem clear and easy to understand. 

 

Allowing the subjects to flee the lands under their rule was the step a very few lords would understand, let alone undergo, as it robbed the lands of its workforce, labour they did, and the taxes they paid, yet the Viceroy started to understand the wisdom behind it. 

 

It was, he assumed, the easiest way to get rid of the rebellious elements the Viceroy himself had underestimated twice already. Not only it implied that Gam Youngjae could leave, it created a situation that those who remained behind would be open to the more creative solutions should he choose to stay.

 

“You want to exile the people who don't submit to your rule?” He asked. 

 

“Yes. Self exile if not obey. Obey we treat well. Rebel we punish.” 

 

It was a dangerous idea. The people fleeing Surao in droves would rob him of a large portion of his income in the tax, as well cripple the farming and mining. 

 

Then Youngjae recalled being hit by the arrow when the entire garrison of his former fortress mutinied, and came to agree with the proposal. 

 

They would separate the wheat from the chaff for him. 

 

“We have ways for food. Share we can. Trade we can. Less farmer job way.” 

 

He wasn’t certain about that, however, it could not be ruled out considering the methods they used to raise the earthworks earlier. 

 

Other terms were, in fact, very reasonable. In exchange for their protection, they demanded tribute, as many rulers or raiders would, which was, in contrast to the unearthly powers they used to achieve it. Even demanding the local armourer to work for them was quite an understandable move for the needs of the army.

 

“You don’t want to be paid tribute in silver or gold?” He asked.

 

Silver meant money that could be spent in Jin’s lands. The gold would either be used to pay the officials here, or to trade with the merchants coming from overseas. It surprised him, since he had assumed that the Spirits actually arrived from the sea.

 

“No. The cloth. Need steel, or iron, or copper, or brass.” 

 

“We don’t have any silk,” Youngjae protested weakly. One of the main reasons the Surao remained rather a backward province in the kingdom was the fact that it did not and could not produce any silk or cotton - those were the domains of the southern provinces instead. In fact, part of his income came from taxing the merchants bringing the valuable cloth north through his province. 

 

He could, however, still hand over the tax itself. There were larger things at stake at the moment. 

 

“Cotton. Hemp.” The suggestion interrupted him - cotton was, in fact, also a problem. It wasn’t grown here.

 

“Province can pay 10 bolts of hemp cloth.” He offered. Rich southerners did pay this much in silk to the capital - he would struggle to deliver this, but it wasn’t nearly as costly. 

 

Hemp cloth was, however, cheaper. Some could be expected to pay even 10 times the amount, especially ones with the excess of the fertile land, and it was not unheard of for the kings to demand unusual amounts of goods. He was underselling it, to be certain he would not be held responsible for shortages. However, the fast answer surprised him: 

 

“Agreed.” 

 

He was surprised it worked. However, the Spirit however still pressed. 

 

“Hunting permit? Mine metal?” 

 

It made him pause. 

 

Should he undersell the metal production too? After all, even without the gold and silver, those hills were rich in making iron or brass weapons or tools in large enough quantities, and it was possible that the leader of the Spirits himself did know what he could reasonably demand from the city of Chunnan, or the Surao as the province. 

 

The Viceroy reminded himself that it wouldn’t be easy to rebuild the forces and he could easily sacrifice the ability to make more weapons and armour at the moment, as there weren’t any men to carry them. 

 

His plan, in fact, couldn’t and wouldn’t rely on fighting the Spirits off. 

 

And if he understood the terms completely, he would still maintain the control over the city, and its archives, bargain to exchange the information for favours once the Spirits’ search went stale.

 

He was about to form the proposal that would hopefully placate the Spirit's requests. However, first, he needed some assurance.  

 

“Would this one allow the free rein of Chunnan under your protection, in addition to the land I own?” 

 

He could justify it by their desire to re-equip their troops - they would struggle to find the skilled armourers and weapon smiths outside the city - and he could argue he could deliver on the promises only with direct oversight. A remote village blacksmith would struggle with certain orders. 

 

They already expressed an interest in his ability to govern the province, which would alone be a reason to agree with the proposal, although things changed slightly as there was an option to the greater benefit now he was aware what they were after. 

 

The archives, even if lacking in the details they sought, could be leveraged later on, although he would not reveal to the spirit a true value of them immediately. It would only lessen his value in the long term. 

 

Youngjae planned he would instead argue with quotas to arm men. Do they need a thousand spears, a thousand suits of armour? 

 

They would need to give him some leeway here. 

 

It even seemed the fearsome warlord did consider it. 

 

The Viceroy was about to explain it. 

 

However, he was interrupted by the brief exchange between the female Spirit, a result of which has been promptly translated in the jumble of words through the magically enthralled guard. 

 

“City people could riot. Many gather at gates. Talk to rioters calm or we bring troops.” 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae could, once again, be an official addressing the city. 

 

Should he do it, he would never be able to deny his involvement with the Evil Spirits. 

 

It was a path of no return.