Blood Moon Rising Over The Plains - Chapter 4: Overpowered (3)

Since I had never truly experienced pain before, this was the first time I’d ever received an alert. Back in the village, when I probably would have felt it the most, Noah hadn’t been active.

Alerts from levels 4 to 9 were activated through my personal device, while levels 1 to 3 required satellite assistance. Since there were no satellites here, I could only trigger alerts from level 4 and above.

I had been planning to check how the system worked anyway, but now I had confirmation: my safety was practically guaranteed.

Still… this was troublesome. The threshold for a 9th-tier alert was too low. It had hurt, sure, but if this was the standard, the system might activate just from tripping over a rock.

“Disable 9th-tier emergency alerts.”

<This is dangerous. Disabling is not recommended for master’s safety.>

“Only cancel the 9th tier.”

<9th-tier emergency alerts have been disabled. You can enable them again through settings or voice command.>

Good. That should be enough for now.

After a final check, I closed the screen.

“Yeo-jin.”

“Hm?”

“This… can only you display it?”

“Display?”

“Hmm… Can you make me appear on it?”

Oh, he must be talking about scanning.

Lifting my wrist, I placed my palm over the left side of his chest, where his heart was.

“Noah, scan Temujin.”

<Scanning in progress. Name: Temujin. Estimated time: 19 seconds. (Progress: 12%)>

Ding!

<Scan complete. ‘Temujin’ has been added to the map.>

I pointed to the blue dot labeled in Hangul.

“This one is you.”

“How many can you add?”

“A lot. A whole lot. But I’m not telling you how. I don’t like fighting.”

I answered without much thought, but a sudden realization made me furrow my brows and shake my head.

Temujin, watching me with amusement, chuckled and reached out to tap my forehead lightly.

“I’m not weak enough to need a woman’s help in battle. This is enough. If I ever lose my way, I can use this to find you.”

“Mm, okay.”

I doubted he’d ever get lost, but it was good to have a backup plan—just in case.

* * *

I rolled my eyes toward the boy they called Hwangja and observed him quietly. The atmosphere was tense, and I had no idea why I was even here. Did I really need to be in this conversation…?

Every time I shifted, trying to slip away, Temujin noticed and tightened his grip around me, keeping me seated on his lap.

Resigned, I turned my gaze elsewhere, nibbling on the small fruit he pressed to my lips.

“…Is it appropriate to have a woman present for this discussion?”

The Hwangja shot me a glance, his discomfort barely concealed.

Half the people here clearly wanted me gone, yet Temujin, amused by something only he understood, simply brushed off the objection with a laugh.

“If I take my eyes off her, she might disappear somewhere.”

With one arm occupied holding me in place, Temujin couldn’t pour his own drink. So, I reached for the wine jug and filled his cup for him.

Even though the language patch was improving, at only 42% completion, I still struggled to follow parts of their conversation.

“Then I’ll proceed as if this is acceptable,” the Hwangja said with a sigh, glancing warily at me before turning his focus back to Temujin.

Temujin only smirked, nodding.

The scent of the strong wine filled my nose as I poured. I had noticed before—this place’s rice wine had an especially potent aroma.

“Currently, Zhongdu has around 40,000 troops, and Dadu has about 30,000.”

“Oh? That’s more than I expected.”

“As a result, there aren’t enough workers left for farming, and soon even the soldiers’ food supplies will run short.”

“Which means they’ll be desperate to end the war quickly.”

“…Since we’ve agreed to an alliance, I won’t hide the truth. Jin is pushing this war recklessly. The Emperor was too greedy—he tried to seize Southern Song (南宋, the state south of Jin), and now, because of that failure, even they refuse to support us in this conflict.”

“Ahh, so that’s why the Southern Song has been so quiet.”

“Indeed. Mongol and Song are geographically too far apart for news to travel quickly. But now that you know, it doesn’t change much.”

Mongol? Song?

I silently committed those unfamiliar words to memory.

I’d have to ask Temujin about them later.

Since arriving here, I had slowly been picking up more words, and now I could recognize a lot more than before.

“Well, if Song is out of the picture, that just makes things easier for us.”

“Then I suppose the extra reinforcements we called in were unnecessary.”

“Better to have them and not need them than the other way around.”

Temujin drained his cup and held it out to me again.

Once more, I poured the clear wine until it filled to the brim.

…Wait.

Why was he the only one drinking?

I wanted to try some too.

I glanced at the dish of fruit in front of me.

“…….”

Temujin, having just lifted his cup, paused, then set it down.

Without a word, he picked up a fruit and handed it to me instead.

Satisfied, I bit into it, nodding contentedly.

The pyracantha fruit wasn’t as large as arangku, but it grew in small, clustered bunches, much like grapes. The tiny, round, scarlet-colored berries were sweet and tart, making them strangely addictive.

“Great Khan, does your urgency to end this war quickly… have anything to do with her?”

“Yes.”

“…And if I were to report this to the Emperor? Are you really fine with revealing such things so easily?”

Temujin let out a short, sharp laugh.

“And what difference would it make if that fool of an Emperor knew?”

“…….”

The Hwangja pressed his lips together in silence.

I was sure Temujin hadn’t been this arrogant when I first met him. But now, he carried himself like a man who had gained an army overnight.

…Wait.

Did he think I had magic and was planning to use me?

I narrowed my eyes in suspicion.

But after a moment of thought, I dismissed the idea.

In this world, a woman’s status was far too low for a man like him to rely on one. If nothing else, Temujin’s pride wouldn’t allow it.

Plop.

A pyracantha berry brushed my lips, and I instinctively opened my mouth to take it in.

As I bit down, I felt his fingers lightly graze my teeth before pulling away.

My gaze flicked up just in time to see his lips curl into a smirk as he lifted his hand to his mouth—his tongue flicking out to lick the crimson-stained juice from his fingertips.

“Ahem, Khan…”

“Hm, still no reaction?”

Despite Buka’s urging, Temujin clicked his tongue as if displeased and sullenly tilted his liquor cup.

“What kind of reaction do you expect…?”

“Don’t you ever feel like breaking that [expressionless face] of yours?”

Temujin lightly tapped my nose with his fingertip. Even as my head tilted slightly, I quickly regained balance, like a tumbler doll, thanks to the hand supporting my back.

“Not at all. For now, you should focus on what this [prince] is saying.”

“Ah, well. I doubt there’s anything more worth hearing.”

“…The Great Khan is even more—”

The [prince], as if startled by his own words, abruptly shut his mouth. Noticing this, Temujin narrowed his eyes and pressed him further.

“Go on, then. I’m curious to hear the rest.”

The [prince] hesitated, his lips parting slightly before letting out a sigh at the sight of Temujin’s furrowed brow.

“It’s just… the Great Khan is widely known to be quite [temperamental]…”

“Ah, you mean the rumors about me being [reckless]? Or perhaps [arrogant]? Or maybe even a [tyrant]?”

Temujin let out a dark chuckle, and the [prince]’s expression darkened. What kind of rumors? The most crucial details in their conversation were missing. I mentally added another question to ask Temujin later.

Oh, and this time, I shouldn’t forget to ask about the difference between ‘Khan’ and ‘Great Khan.’

“If I have offended you…”

“Not at all. There are plenty of rumors about the Khan. This much doesn’t bother me in the slightest.”

“…Buka, I was the one being spoken about. Why are you answering?”

“You’re in a good mood. Let’s not [tease] the [prince] too much.”

“Hmph.”

At Buka’s words, Temujin sharply turned his head and shook his empty cup at me. I poured the liquor in a steady stream and set the bottle down with a soft thud.

It seemed about time for him to let me go. But when I looked up at Temujin, he averted his gaze.

They spoke in riddles, using words I couldn’t understand, and I wasn’t allowed to join the conversation either. In this dull and suffocating space, all I could do was pour drinks.

“Well, at dawn on the second day, we will strike Daedong.”

“…What?”

“…What?”

Both the [prince] and Buka blinked in shock at Temujin’s words.

“I said, we will attack Daedong.”

After downing his drink in one gulp, Temujin set his cup down and held out a pyracantha berry to my lips. Each time I chewed and swallowed one, another followed, and then another.

“…This is the first I’m hearing of this.”

“Of course. This is the first time I’m saying it.”

“Khan…! Didn’t we agree to discuss [strategies] together?”

Buka raised his voice, running a hand through his hair as if Temujin had just said something utterly exasperating.

“If I didn’t mishear, you just said you’re attacking Daedong?”

“Good ears.”

At Temujin’s reply, the [prince] wavered, nearly collapsing before barely managing to steady himself.

“…With all due respect, doesn’t the Great Khan only have around [400 troops] at the moment? Daedong’s [army] numbers 30,000. No matter how formidable your forces are—”

“Ah. [Prince], that’s a flawed perspective. Our numbers may be small, but these are the Khan’s forces. And not just any forces—the elite troops of the Great Khan.”

Temujin wiped a drop of fruit juice from my lips with his fingertip, his grin sharp as a beast’s.

“So, I take 300, Buka takes 300, and the rest… well, let’s say about 100. If each of us handles that many, that should do, shouldn’t it?”