Viceroy Gam Youngjae sat in his chambers in silent contemplation, his morning meal half finished. 

 

He could hear … no, he could feel the whispers, constant, unwavering, lingering at the edge of his hearing, and with them came a silent promise of the headache yet to come. Shadows, barely noticeable in the dawn’s light, strange, out-of-place. Then they too went still. 

 

Yet, despite all of this, none of it bothered him as strongly as the food he just ate. 

 

Youngjae washed the morsel down with a gulp of rice wine. 

 

The breakfast was simply unacceptable, unfit for a man of his standing, but there was something worse than the simple taste, or the cook's lack of skill that aggravated him. 

 

It was, however, not the matter of him raging against the person who prepared the food for him, like any other official or the wealthy gentry would. 

 

He was angry, furious even, but it was less the manner of pleasure, or lack of thereof, it was what this very meal represented for him in much greater terms. 

 

It meant the loss of face, one he might struggle with long after he forgot the food itself. 

 

Yesterday, he has been forced to make a personal trip around the city in a seemingly futile attempt to keep it running, and along the way, besides giving the personal guarantees and assurances to the wealthy, he had been forced to hire servants again.

 

It was expensive. 

 

Not expensive in a way he couldn’t afford, but painfully aware of the fact that his small army was gone, the guards decimated. It was necessary to spread the coin in a way he normally wouldn’t to somewhat soothe the worries of the uncertain times if he wanted something, anything, done.

 

It was a matter of image, of presenting himself.  

 

He needed to be a magnificent official that would provide prosperity, as he couldn’t rely on the support, or even the legitimacy, provided by the distant capital. Even the lesser clerks were missing. Some died, he knew of one or two, then some fled, and some simply didn’t attend to him as they should. 

 

The city was in shambles, and so was the rest of the province. 

 

Only the Spirits were keeping order. 

 

The servants were a seemingly trivial matter. The cooks and housemaids had nowhere to go.

 

He didn’t mind spending a few coins. Better paid staff would spread the word. 

 

Despite his effort, despite the fact he had personally paid them in advance, like one would the finest of artisans, they dared to run away with his money, leaving their tasks unattended! 

 

He couldn’t decide whether it was insolence, an insult, or even an attack. 

 

It was not about the money.

 

Gam Youngjae felt humiliated. Even basic servants like the palace once had required the Spirits' intervention, putting his ability to lead in question. It would endanger his position in the future. 

 

Yesterday, he had been walking the streets with the - too small - column of soldiers, dressed in his suit of armour, to show control and power, to show presence. 

 

No satin chair, as was customary for officials. He wanted to be seen as the commander, representing order and stability, and even though he admitted it wasn’t perfect, it was preferable. 

 

Except he was not! 

 

It was the Spirits who had to arrange security, their lumbering heavy infantry escorting him and his men. 

 

Small progress had nevertheless been made. The Viceroy had been forced to personally visit a few influential households in the city to measure their loyalty, and to appoint them for varying, new positions, assuring they would support and follow him in the future as the connection with the capital was severed. 

 

They pledged the men - the sons of the families - as future lieutenants in their army, and although those wouldn’t win him any battles, they were at least partially competent with a sword. Better than new conscripts would be, that was the idea. 

 

Yet in the end, even something as simple as hiring servants was impossible. 

 

Youngjae reined himself in before his fist hit the table, showing weakness, showing a lack of control. 

 

The voices whispered. They needed to cook for the regiment… 

 

Sometimes he thought he understood them, they gossipped like the court he was familiar with, yet sometimes they murmured madly about crabs and wasps, while the other day they were completely unintelligible in their rambling in the otherworldly tongue. 

 

The Viceroy was good at listening, normally; it had helped him get appointed in the past, knowing what was going on, but now, he struggled with focusing.

 

Another gulp of wine, slightly sour, helped him to push it away and gather his thoughts once more. 

 

It upset him greatly, but he hoped his other arrangements wouldn’t be as disastrous as the one with the palace's domestic staff, considering there were greater expenditures to be made. 

 

He despised it, but it was necessary to take action personally now as it had been before. Before the Spirits had invaded the province, he had been forced to lead his men in person to ensure the taxes, in metal, money and in supplies, had been collected. 

 

Now, he arranged for lesser things - commissioned suits of armour, ordered weapons, recruited future officers, promised posts to the sons of wealthy families. 

 

…and he disposed of those who couldn’t be trusted anymore - though it was the Spirits who did so. They were much more efficient in that, and no-one would find the bodies.

 

Submerged in his considerations, he didn’t even notice how bland the meal was now. It made sense to him - armies marched on their stomachs, and assuring they were fed didn’t coincide with making the meals tasty. 

 

Another gulp of the rice wine spread warmth across his body, dulling both his anger, and the annoying, pestering voices of the Spirits that pursued him every waking hour. 

 

He didn’t despise the Spirits, Gam Youngjae thought. In some regards, they allowed him to do more than he could before. 

 

If they wanted someone to disappear, those people were gone, making his reign much easier should he remain on their good side - after all, he was in office for life now.

 

It was, however, still a massive loss of face when he had to ask them to arrange for something small, like the servant staff for the palace, after he had failed to hire and retain the replacement for even a single day! That was the core of the problem - he couldn’t allow himself to look incompetent. 

 

He clapped his hands. 

 

A personification of his current trouble entered the room.

 

It was a woman, local, ordinary, that carried the tray away. 

 

While she looked like any other commoner in the kingdom, working the land, she wasn't truly one of them. She could speak in the local dialect, but her loyalties lay elsewhere, and she was not shy of displaying them either. Her presence as a maid was nothing more than a facade to please her new masters. 

 

The Viceroy gestured for her to take the bottle of wine away as well, observing her as she left the room. 

 

She observed the common customs as she left the room, but her courtesy was merely a skin deep. 

 

The three women the Spirits brought from other parts of Hanulbeol-guk may have been ordinary, unremarkable, indistinguishable from every other commoner, but deep inside, they were not. Not anymore. 

 

Youngjae could catch glimpses of it, more than the fleeting sanity in the woman’s eyes. Behind that, there was something else. Something foreign, something otherworldly, something that bound them to the Spirits. 

 

They, however, were not like the spectre of the woman he met yesterday, with glowing, icy blue eyes. That one had been a facsimile merely resembling a mortal, but in her presence, thousands of voices had screamed like a typhoon, and spoke through the possessed abominations like any other Spirit.

 

Ones that played servant weren’t that. 

 

Neither possessed, nor a Spirit, they weren’t the mere people of the province either. 

 

They were somehow…

 

…somehow, changed… 

 

Untrained, yet blessed with the strength of an Adept, and with the ferocity of a rabid beast, were the ones that ‘played’ the servants now. 

 

They were to play soldiers, too. 

 

He disapproved of this at first. It wasn’t a traditional role for a woman, yet the condemnation had been a mistake. 

 

One of them had mauled one of his soldiers when the man dismissed them as simple village women, revealing that the Spirits could make their own Adepts, a training of which he couldn’t have dreamt of before.

 

Yesterday, the Viceroy had let them supplement the men he took with him to the city. 

 

The three didn’t know how to properly wear armour, but he found it didn’t matter.

When one of the rich households took up arms to arrest him yesterday - him! - laughing at him, reciting he should have been recalled by that Secret Royal Inspector, he had needed the women to defend him.

 

The women tore the men limb from limb, and didn’t stop when they were stabbed. They were neither infallible nor unstoppable, they could bleed, and likely die, but that didn't quell  their fury once unleashed. 

 

The Viceroy knew that the healing magic of the Spirits hurt... 

 

He himself had experienced its effect, twice even, and the agony it unleashed was unbearable even though it saved him from certain death. 

 

…but those three. Those three welcomed it, sought it. Healing brought them closer to their masters. He could hear them muttering to themselves, praying to be blessed further by the Spirits. 

 

Almost as if the Spirits had combined the role of Priestess and Adept into one deviation from local tradition. 

 

And those… Those were only people the Spirits could arrange as the temporary replacement for his runaway servants, a subtle reminder that their agents weren’t only Quan, like the Witch was, but also people who appeared inconspicuous, local, yet still inherently changed, corrupted on the inside. 

 

There wasn’t a way to tell them apart from the normal people. 

 

They were perfect spies and assassins. In time, he would doubt which of his former subjects he could trust. 

 

He growled.

 

A slight consolation was that the Spirit had empowered one of the remaining guards, one of the handful of survivors who had stood by the Viceroy through trying times until the very end. 

 

A man he could trust. 

 

Whether they could - and would - change more, he wasn't certain. It was possible they could not, the number of people who would normally become Disciples to Adepts, and eventually, full Adepts themselves, was unfavourable at best. 

 

It was a possibility that Spirit’s success was merely given by the fact they considered women candidates … 

 

Enough of this, for now. 

 

The Viceroy stood up, and after a few moments regained the appropriate composure and headed out for the hallway towards the official throne room in expectation of today’s hearing, the first of the many, to remind the city he, Gam Youngjae, was in charge.

 

What happened was unfortunate, disturbing his plans and his thoughts alike, but he wasn’t quick to give up. 

 

There weren’t any guards outside, nor did there need to be. 

 

This, for a change, wasn’t an oversight of his or an irritating failure from his retainers, but a decision made to prevent the same or similar problems he had experienced from repeating. 

 

His remaining men, trustworthy, yet very few, had different tasks for the day. 

 

They were more indispensable as porters, welcoming the visitors at the gates of the palace, and escorting all guests to him personally, or, should the servants show up, towards the quarters where they were supposed to reside.

 

Gam Youngjae had no reason to worry about protection. Just as yesterday, they were creeping, shifting shadows everywhere.

 

He already learned that when the air itself shifted, there would be one of those black Wolf Spirits around, and their presence was guaranteed to discourage any intruders from daring to enter the grounds. 

 

Despite their infringement on his authority, he was greatly dependent on them at the moment to keep order. Their presence only served as a reminder to increase recruitment, so in the future, the Viceroy’s property would be solely protected by his chosen locals.

 

However, as it was now, even the city's miniscule garrison was in shambles, and the Spirits were, unfortunately, irreplaceable. 

 

The Viceroy couldn’t afford to say he couldn’t recruit people either, not now, so he didn’t show any sign of displeasure at the presence of spirits. Come the next few days, or perhaps even until the next full moon, it was going to be standard. 

 

Nevertheless, he rushed forward - there was a meeting, a hearing, to be held. 

 

The throne was well lit this time of day - while unneeded, the braziers blazed for effect rather than illumination, which he approved. After all, the Spirits that could become invisible did better incomplete darkness. 

 

Being slightly observant was paying off, Youngjae thought, though the whispers were still driving him crazy. 

 

The voices, too, babbled more intensely when he neared a Spirit of the highest rank, which was infuriating and distracting, but also very helpful in identifying important Spirits. 

 

Youngjae realised he feared the mortal followers more. 

 

There were two of the Greater Spirits in the room, accompanied by a small, skittering abomination, a possessed amalgamation of flesh he couldn’t even begin to describe, one that served as their disgusting translator. 

 

There were two of his guards at the entrance too, greeting the Viceroy with the proper military salute, while the Spirits’ envoys merely nodded,pointedly ignoring common etiquette.

 

Spirits did that often. 

 

He stepped up and took the official seat, making a point of not greeting them before as he would in normal circumstances with his subjects, maintaining a calm and collected expression. 

 

The Spirits did not bow, but Youngjae wasn’t foolish enough to take offence. 

 

They were creatures of agreements, not courtesy. They had fulfilled their bargains twice by saving him, and now it was he who failed to deliver instead. Whispers sang stronger as he looked at the two, but he didn’t let himself falter. 

 

Perhaps they even waited on him, wondering whether he would raise it as an issue.

 

Still, the Viceroy considered it a minor victory that the incessant winged spirit that had lounged on his throne had been dismissed and appointed elsewhere, even if it wasn’t through his own effort.

 

“General Ku-ma. Official Li-li” he said, nodding, finally acknowledging the two higher ranked Spirits. 

 

He was not entirely certain what their official positions had been called - he had guessed based on the fact one usually wore the suit of armour, but others preferred the robes - but made an effort to try to remember their names, assuming he pronounced them correctly.

 

It was necessary to play this carefully. 

 

The reptilian Spirit spoke first, and soon, the strange, disgusting fleshy thing they brought as their interpreter spat the line in the local tongue, though with a strange, soulless, genderless tone.

 

It was weird to hear that, but words as sound were preferable to the constant murmur of voices at the back of Youngjae’s skull, muttering without cease, or even the Spirit’s own language -offensive to the ears, alien like reflections of distant realms. 

 

“We need the plots of lands to grow new crops for your people,” she demanded, through the thing, and then arrogantly boasted: “I can assure there is enough food for everyone.” 

 

The Viceroy disliked her already. 

 

This Spirit, this Li-li, was strange to look at. With her bird-like feathers, scaly lizard-like features and distressing eyes, she was already being quite obnoxious to deal with and was very likely keen to see to his failure. 

 

He would not sign away any lands, not before the harvest, only for the Spirits to take credit for keeping the granaries full. 

 

The purpose of the great granaries, present in every city, including the less prestigious locations like Chunnan, were twofold: to feed the marching armies in the event of war, and to sustain the city during a siege. 

 

They were massive. 

 

In truth, even the riot the Spirits had suppressed hadn’t  touched the stores of food or water. The walls wouldn’t hold, but the provisions… The provisions were still there, untouched, waiting for an army that never arrived. 

 

Gam Youngjae may not need to fight a truly lengthy campaign. His concern was purely to secure his rule over his holdings, still expected to benefit from the stores. 

He would either wait out the war, as was the original plan, or otherwise use them for his advantage. Selling them came to mind. In the right moment, they would prove invaluable, as it was quite clear the Spirits intended to keep their armies here through the winter. In time, they would appreciate that the larders were still stocked. 

 

He will not allow this Li-li to take credit for it. 

 

The granaries were full from the efforts of himself and his predecessors in copying the king’s policies. If he had to surrender them, he expected to do so to grant a favour for their leader. Especially now that this Li-li could blame him for not even staffing the palace as the seat of the provincial government. 

 

It was unlikely he would get rid of her, though. 

 

The winged one was gone only because the Waegu had resumed their raids. 

 

Youngjae didn’t envy the Viceroys responsible for coastal provinces, as there was always a chance that their wealth, and their reputation, would suddenly crumble. It was a twist of fate that his somewhat detached mountainous province was invaded by the Spirits many men didn’t believe in, but it was something he couldn’t bemoan right now. 

 

“We are not going to decide that now,” he replied, remaining calm, his sitting posture strengthened and perfect, pretending he considered the request to rent the land, which would certainly be followed by the request for workers. 

 

“My Master has ordered…” the Spirit argued through the other-thing, but the Viceroy paid her no mind. 

 

She was, as far as he understood, the one responsible for bringing the supplies to the city, was the one who could, and would, certainly point out that without her the palace would have no staff. 

 

While Youngjae refrained from antagonising her, he couldn't let her believe she was in control. 

 

All officials which realised they were indispensable were dangerous, and the Viceroy didn’t forget that it was she who had supplied his guard with alcohol and intoxicating fruits, likely to point out his inability to reign. 

 

Or was it a different one? The scales were of different colours. 

 

She was the one who had appropriated the gardens, most likely. There were many kinds of spirits, and the strange scale and feather ones were not to be trusted, even less so than their other, equally odd kin.

 

“We have arranged the payment of the tribute your … “ he paused, unsure what the leader of the Spirits expected to be called. 

 

The choir in his head sang “master, master, master”. He ignored the distraction.  

 

“...your leader demanded from the stores of the local craft-workers. It will be delivered in full.” 

 

Fortunately, silk, a demand his mountainous province would struggle to meet, was not required. 

 

Thinking of it now, with the continued Waegu threat,he could convince the Spirits to demand the tribute from the southern provinces instead, while providing only what was agreed upon. 

 

After all, the king’s armies were supposed to fight the Jin barbarians, invading from the northeast, leaving the south sparsely defended. They could, and would, be sacrificed.

 

Youngjae was, of course, willing to pay more, to assure his position was secure for life, but he wouldn’t do it immediately.

 

He, first, needed to make himself irreplaceable - that wouldn’t happen overnight, as the city was all but crippled. 

 

“The deeds for the lands can be arranged later.” He said, “None of the clerks work as is customary, and you took away my advisor who was appropriately trained. The law demands…” 

 

San Hyun-Ki, the sage, and the advisor, was educated to be a bureaucrat, but his single-minded obsession with the relics made him more of a nuisance than he was worth. 

 

It was most unfortunate that the Spirits had chosen to appoint such a person as the City Magistrate, likely to support them in their treasure hunt, only to further cripple the governance with no tangible benefit in sight. 

 

Youngjae had already given up on searching, and selling, some elusive artifact himself. 

 

The Viceroy knew the Spirits were looking for them though, and he could use their goals and ambition to his own advantage. 

 

“Magistrate San Hyun-Ki was preoccupied with the tasks your warlord placed on him, and the city was effectively ungoverned. Any reforms would have to wait until we send messengers to other towns….” 

 

“Master. Master. Master!” The voices from nowhere reminded him, but the reptilian Spirit kept silent and blinked in surprise. The strange yellow eyes never failed to set Gam Youngjae’s senses off. 

 

“We can arrange that…” 

 

He expected her to run off, but she instead went silent and gazed away, either giving up on her demands, or thinking of the other way to get her way. 

 

Her counterpart, the metal-clad bear spirit, said nothing. 

 

His eyes met hers. 

 

With her towering height and sheer size, she dwarfed even the tallest of men, but cared very little or not at all for circumventing his orders. Youngjae thought he liked her, not to mention she - again, as far as the Viceroy understood - commanded the Spirits’ heavy infantry, very useful in maintaining order. 

 

They terrified the people, but they were preferable over the sneaky, shadowy-types, or the boisterous winged ones or those strange half-bird, half-lizard ones that brought the weird items into the city. 

 

Order was, indeed, preferable. 

 

Ku-ma, the Bear Spirit, still said nothing. The Viceroy preferred the silent soldiers, uncaring for schemes. 

 

Youngjae liked that. 

 

However, dealing with the Spirits and their envoys was not the purpose of this sitting. He wanted, and needed, to establish his new reign here. 

 

“We will begin the hearing now.” 

 

The Viceroy declared.

 

And waited.

 

One of his guards rushed out in confusion, or perhaps even panic, as he likely realised that there wasn’t any lesser official or clerk present to go through the ceremony, but was soon forced to back out as another of those bear-spirits led the people in. 

 

Some Spirits were more useful than others. 

 

The petitioners kneeled, as was proper, including the handful of his remaining soldiers, while the bear spirits took the position of standing vigilance. It didn’t seem as if they questioned his authority, which was crucial at the moment, though a few petitioners nervously, and somewhat awkwardly, eyed them,

 

All his remaining soldiers were present too, either to stand guard along the walls or outside the room.  

 

They weren’t expected to get used to the Spirits. 

 

In the end, new officers and lesser clerks were merely to carry out the Viceroy’s orders and trust his judgement. 

 

None of them were expected to love the Spirits’ presence, but to tolerate them.

 

The Bear Spirits and the like were not meant to be a threat of something unholy, but a foreign army. 

 

After all, all occupiers - and allies, too - eventually left, and what mattered was what they left behind.

 

And what would be left behind was what Viceroy Gam Youngjae was about to lay the foundation for. 

 

It would start with the chief enforcer, an entirely human one, that would take the place of whatever duties the brutish Bear Spirits carried out. 

 

“Kim Cheol-soo.” The Viceroy said, raising his voice, overlooking the group. 

 

It surprised all the men, but that was expected. 

 

Two days ago, the Viceroy himself didn’t know the name, but now, he had burned it into his memory. 

 

The Spirits empowered the wrong man - or right one, from Youngjae’s perspective. 

 

One of his own, one of his best. 

 

The local cavalry unit was small, but trustworthy, composed of the men handpicked for their uncompromising loyalty and their willingness to follow orders without question, was going to serve as the Viceroy’s personal bodyguards rather than the force to win wars. 

 

They were the men who Viceroy could vouch for, unlike the virtually unknown strangers the Spirits had brought from the other parts of the kingdom.

 

A man who stood by the Viceroy’s side through two mutinies was very unlikely to betray him should a third opportunity show itself, and now, now, he became more crucial than the original unit had been. 

 

He couldn’t be a spy. By being here, he passed an unintentional, but ultimate test of one’s trustworthiness, something which couldn’t be said of others. 

 

“My Lord!” 

 

The man kneeled in front of his lord, eager, and proper. 

 

Youngjae was satisfied, and proudly announced his decision. 

 

“We hereby declare that you be appointed as the captain of the guard and the city garrison. Rise, Captain Kim Cheol-soo.”

 

The Viceroy gestured for the man to take the other seat presiding over the throne room, currently vacant. It was customary for the Captain of the Guard, and the Magistrate, to be present at these proceedings, and though the commander of the Viceroy’s bodyguards had survived, he was never appointed in the official capacity after the city briefly turned against them. 

 

While the Magistrate was beyond his control - the Spirits took the initiative in this - appointing the commander of the local militia and guard, that was his prerogative, one not even the Greater Spirits and their leader could question. 

 

Now, Viceroy Gam Youngjae had a perfect candidate for the position. 

 

Without the experience to command, to lead, yes, but an Adept - or close equivalent of one - the Viceroy could command. 

 

The Adepts were of considerable rarity in Hanulbeol-guk, and though the Viceroy was the official tasked with governance of the entire provinces, it didn’t mean they - including the recently appointed Gam Youngjae himself- got to command the Adepts, or even the Disciples. 

 

Some did, yes, but not all. 

 

The province of Surao may be large enough to warrant a viceroy position, but not important enough to have Adepts present… 

 

Now that had changed. 

 

Viceroy Gam Youngjae had a personal Adept to execute his will, not the one appointed by the distant rulers, but one chosen by him, and him alone. 

 

Once the newly promoted commander assumed the position, the collection of other important city dwellers shifted nervously. 

 

The official announcement was going to be made, though this time, it would be done to the future inner circle, rather than the gathered mob. The wealthy and influential, some who already held minor offices, the merchants, and even the master armourer, were all required for the future the Viceroy had planned. 

 

“Subjects of Surao.” He continued, voice raised, “We are entering a new era…” 

 

He pointedly did not use the name of Hanulbeol-guk this time. 

 

A lengthy  speech he didn’t quite prepare flew naturally, and none of his subtle references to the current king’s control, or lack thereof, and the war with the Jin Empire, were disputed by the audience. 

 

He still referred to himself as the Viceroy though. This wasn’t necessary to denounce the current ruler, even if it was done by the document the Spirits had produced either. 

 

It was about the difficult times he, and only he, could lead the province through. 

 

None objected to it this time. 

 

Gam Youngjae was caught in his moment of triumph, with his new declarations and appointments he made… 

 

He was even met with thanks and praise, once the gathered people were given the chance to speak, some hollow, but still very welcomed. After all, the Viceroy didn’t expect his future officials to generally admire his choices, as long as they respected them. 

 

They would understand his choices in time. 

 

For now, it was enough if they prevented another open rebellion, another mutiny. 

 

He looked at his new captain of the guard. 

 

This should be easier with an Adept at his side. 

 

Until the petitioners came to make a request… 

 

“Does anyone want to address the Viceroy of Surao?” he asked. “Your plea would be heard now.” 

 

An unconventional approach, as there was normally would be an usher, or herald. The royal court would have a master of ceremonies, but none of this was desirable at the moment. 

 

There couldn’t be an impression that the Spirits controlled who could address the Viceroy. 

 

This would have unfortunate implications - that was why about a dozen of his remaining soldiers he trusted had a duty to escort the visitors in and out, not the Spirits. That’s why he always spoke for himself, even if it was beneath the man of his standing, to show he was the one still in control..  

 

The Spirits were there, true, but that’s why the Viceroy preferred to have this ‘Ku-ma’ here. 

 

She, very clearly, did not care, and had no ambition in this court.

 

Her presence felt more like a formality, which, admittedly, worked perfectly. 

 

Thankfully, he didn’t expect to make any ruling this time either, considering the turmoil within the city, and he had the right to refuse. However it was wise, if not necessary, to give the impression that having the ear of the Viceroy was now easier than ever… 

 

“My Lord!” A sudden voice interrupted his thoughts the very moment he expected there would be silent compliance.

 

However, this was acceptable, particularly if those invited were deemed essential for Viceroy’s future rule.  

 

“My Lord! May this one make a request…” someone said, suddenly gathering the attention of all assembled individuals. 

 

A local rich merchant, whose name Youngjae didn’t bother to remember, shook visibly, visibly restless despite his heavy, rounded figure. He scuttled forward and fell to his knees, bowing deeply. 

 

“My Lord.” The merchant spat up with almost uncharacteristic energy for nervousness, “This one humbly begs your grace for a small favour in these trying times of war…” 

 

Money - he wants money, Youngjae thought. 

 

Though understandable, the war was not kind to any kind of trade, especially one that satisfied the demand for luxuries in the provinces that didn’t produce them themselves. Neither the kingdom nor the provincial rulers could compensate merchants for their losses. 

 

The treasury wasn’t bottomless and every trader, from the lowest peddlers to the rich merchant, knew the risks. 

 

It should, and would, be refused… 

 

“Speak. This court would consider your plea,” Youngjae said.

 

It was against his better judgement to lend or give money without any tangible benefit in sight, but even he had to admit that his current predicament - an isolated province with a little to no trade comparable to coastal regions - would demand some kind of trade. 

 

This was even more so true with the Spirits present, as this was occupied territory and the usual connections would no longer apply. 

 

He had to admit he needed the merchants.

 

“This one humbly requests your grace for the concession to trade with your most gracious allies for their most miraculous berries,” the merchant spat out, shaking and sweating, but very much filled with energy, abnormally restless, almost as he was about to jump forward, or run away. 

 

“Berries?” The Viceroy raised his voice. “What is the meaning of this?” 

 

“My Lord! This one would explain…” 

 

The merchant pulled the piece of silk from his sleeve with the trembling hands, spreading the content in front of him. 

 

“Those!” 

 

A strange, colourful, most unnatural looking drupelet lay on the white cloth. 

 

“A miraculous cure! This one never felt so young, so full of life for a long time!” The merchant continued, “Grant this one concession to trade these. This one could make your grace very rich!” 

 

The Viceroy didn’t answer. 

 

Where did he get those? 

 

“The Evil Spirits just hand them for free, but …” The merchant started rambling, …this one knows people who would pay a talent of silver for just a few of them!” 

 

“We can grow them with ease.” The scaly Spirit suddenly interrupted, “We just need land to grow them…” 

 

Li-li, or whatever was the creature’s name, would certainly go the extra length to just spite the Viceroy.

 

Most were startled, if not terrified, by the abomination's translation of her strange, otherworldly speech, but the merchant was not. Instead, he rambled on, much to the unease of the rest, until he realized what was expected of him. 

 

“Land? How much land? How much could you grow?” 

 

“I can provide a basket of these today…” 

 

“A basket!” The merchant jumped up,and rushed the annoying Spirit.Youngjae realized he wouldn’t be able to stop those who were less scrupulous about dealing with the Spirits from doing business behind his back. 

 

“Enough!” The Viceroy boomed, “You are hereby allowed to trade with the Spirits. However, we decree that any trader selling the Spirits’ goods would be taxed half of their earnings!” 

 

No merchant would conduct business, which takes away that  much of their earnings, especially with the risks the war brought to the land. 

 

The roads weren’t safe at the moment.

 

“This one is allowed to trade? This one could arrange for a caravan immediately. To the capital? To the west, maybe? It doesn’t matter!” 

 

The merchant beamed. How many of those … berries… was he expected to sell? And where? 

 

“This hearing is over.” 

 

He declared, and soon, everyone but the bear spirit, Ku-ma, retreated from the chamber, even the annoying scaly and feathery one left with a far too eager trader ready to drive a  bargain for … 

 

… for what exactly? 

 

He looked down.The silky handkerchief with the colourful berries was still there on the floor, abandoned, forgotten. 

 

The trader, so enamoured with the idea of receiving more, forgot his original ‘treasure’ on the floor 

 

The Viceroy was very interested in why they were so valuable. Was it some kind of scam? 

 

He certainly wasn’t going to the berries himself - they were, without a doubt, dangerous - but he would certainly have to investigate where they came from. 

 

They could have come from anywhere, as the Viceroy was aware of the cat-like spirits and the way they popped in and out of existence, but it did not discourage him from investigating how, or why,the strange, outlandish fruits were so important, and where they came from. 

 

A trip to the hills where most of the Spirits currently camped was out of the question. However, he might not be forced to travel as far and as wide to see their work for himself. 

 

Previously, he had overlooked that the Spirits had seized parts of the palace for themselves, making all kinds of ruckus. 

 

Though he had assumed they intended to turn the useless shrine and the garden into the barracks the palace lacked, it was possible they wanted it for another, less obvious purpose. 

 

They said they wanted the land for their special, likely alchemistic fruit, and were interested in the merchant proposal. It was possible they had already started their work in the gardens they cut off. 

 

Should he object? Refuse, try to repel them? 

 

No. 

 

He should find out how it worked, the Viceroy decided. Though he did not understand how the magic worked, he was no stranger to the fact that odd, both powerful and dangerous mixtures existed. Not even the royal court was a stranger to poisoning. 

 

It could be of use to him in the end. 

 

Gam Youngjae picked up the piece of silk and the colourful drupes within, careful to not touch them. If only he had a way to test how they worked without endangering himself.

 

“Will you let me inspect the parts of the palace you are rebuilding?” he asked, looking up at the bear spirit. She was uncomfortably big, but Youngjae realized he didn’t mind that much. 

 

 As much as unpleasant it was, he could feel the answer before the little, many-legged thing spat the single word: “Yes.”

 

“Excellent,” he replied. 

 

Perhaps he should investigate what they did to the garden first?