Chapter 2
People passing through Samgaksan—what is now called Bukhansan—had begun to mysteriously disappear in recent months. They were labelled “missing”, but only because no one could confirm their deaths. In truth, no one believed those who vanished were still alive.
Those rare few who returned spoke of a monster dwelling in the mountain. They described an eerie creature that hissed ‘shik‑shik’ in a spine‑chilling rhythm, a beast with hundreds of legs that devoured humans whole.
Officials, alerted by the reports, searched the area thoroughly but found nothing. Still, the disappearances continued as if taunting them, and dreadful rumours spread like wildfire among the people.
At the Guksadang shrine in Samgaksan’s Bamgol Valley, shamans held ritual after ritual to ward off calamity. They presented rare offerings—luxurious foods nearly impossible to procure during years of famine. Yet nothing worked.
Then one day, the shaman performing the sacred dance suddenly spat blood and collapsed. With her last strength, she declared that unless an unblemished maiden was sacrificed, the disaster would not end. Her words threw the entire capital into chaos.
“Quite a convincing justification, wouldn’t you say? ”
The high monk spoke to the matriarch, sipping tea inside the inner quarters at her invitation.
“Even so, if anything goes awry, people may point fingers.”
The matriarch enjoyed the idea of removing Heeyeon from her sight, yet she remained wary of public opinion.
“Hardly. On the contrary, people will praise the sacrifice made by the Left Chancellor’s household to save them from calamity.”
The atmosphere in the city was suffocatingly tense. Parents of daughters were terrified their children might be abducted and offered as sacrifices.
In such a climate, whoever became the sacrifice would be exalted as a saviour. Such was the selfish psychology of the masses.
“But one condition must be met,” the monk added.
“And what is that? ”
His eyes gleamed slyly as he answered.
“It must appear as though she volunteered.”
“I see.”
Yes, if it appeared voluntary, there would be no fault to find. The matriarch’s eyes flashed as she finished her calculations.
A noble maiden who willingly gave her life to save innocent citizens… such a story would spread quickly. The king himself might reward the household for such noble devotion.
“Can you accomplish it? ” the monk asked.
The matriarch snorted.
“Of course. Leave that part to me. You simply prepare for the ritual. I will compensate you handsomely.”
“As you command, madam.”
With the conversation settled, the monk left the mansion.
Once he had travelled far enough to reach a deserted mountainside, a figure approached him.
“Did the task go well? ”
“Too well. Almost disappointingly so.”
The monk chuckled—a deflating pshh—as his face shifted, transforming into that of a young man. Tall, broad‑shouldered, with sharp eyes and a cold aura.
“That is because Lord Cheongang possesses unmatched skill,” the subordinate said. “Soon, our jackal clan will finally wipe out those wolf bastards.”
At those words, Cheongang—the leader of the jackal clan—nodded.
Humans believed only what they saw, but the world had long been shared by many tribes. The beast clans lived disguised among humans, maintaining their forms carefully.
Most clans avoided conflict for survival’s sake. But there were exceptions—wolves and jackals.
Humans, ignorant and careless, lumped them together as silang—wild beasts—and both clans considered it an insult. Especially the jackals, who despised the wolves’ pretentious pride.
“Yes. That household may prove useful.”
A thin smile curved Cheongang’s lips as he thought of the Left Chancellor Jeong Jaehyun’s mansion. He had been searching for a human with enough influence to manipulate—someone who could be steered easily.
Righteous men, or those with strong morals, were useless tools.
But the chancellor’s household was perfect—greedy, self‑serving, and willing to disregard the safety of others for personal gain.
“Lord Cheongang always sees true worth,” the subordinate flattered.
The compliment sounded especially pleasant today—no doubt because the plan to bring the wolf clan to its knees was finally taking shape.
The Jeong household employed countless servants, yet none dared help Heeyeon.
Some pitied her in secret, but after one person had tried to stop her from doing chores—and was punished harshly by the matriarch—everyone chose to look away. Only Gopdan helped her and cried on her behalf.
That day, Heeyeon was once again dealing with the heavy labour Madam Dongsu had set out for her.
“Enough of that. A grown girl should know to care for her own body…”
The matriarch, passing by, clicked her tongue at the sight. Heeyeon flinched, unable to believe her ears.
“Do not do such rough work anymore. Understand? ”
Unable to immediately trust those words, Heeyeon stared blankly at her. The matriarch clicked her tongue again and turned to Gopdan.
“Make sure your mistress never works again.”
“Yes—yes, of course, madam! ”Gopdan stammered, bowing with tearful gratitude.
The matriarch watched impassively, then strode away.
“My lady! It seems the matriarch has finally recognised your devotion! ”
Gopdan was overjoyed, but Heeyeon could not share her excitement.
Could that truly be? That the grandmother who had never treated her as human—who had constantly spoken of her as useless—had suddenly changed?
If so, it would be wonderful… but a chilling unease twisted inside Heeyeon’s chest.
Three days later, the matriarch summoned Heeyeon to the inner quarters.
“You called for me.”
Heeyeon bowed and sat quietly.
“Eat.”
On the tray lay hot tea and sweets—an unimaginable sight. Heeyeon stared in disbelief, unable to guess the matriarch’s intent.
“What are you waiting for? ”
Despite the unfamiliar kindness, the matriarch’s tone was as cold as ever. Heeyeon lifted the teacup and took a careful sip.
The matriarch watched her in silence, then finally spoke.
“Have you heard of the disappearances at Samgaksan? ”
Heeyeon blinked in surprise before replying.
“Yes, I heard that the people are frightened.”
“Then you must also know that as a proper noble maiden, you have a duty in times like this.”
A duty? Heeyeon grew more confused with each word.
“If there is something this humble girl can do, please tell me,” she said politely.
A faint smile curled at the matriarch’s lips.
“You must have heard the rumour about needing a maiden sacrifice to end this calamity.”
“Yes? I have heard it, but…”
Was that not just nonsense? Even if saving people was important, offering a living girl’s life seemed unforgivable.
“If you have heard, then there is no need for further explanation. You shall volunteer. By sacrificing your life, you will save many and bring honour to our family. What a noble death it will be.”
The moment the words left her lips, Heeyeon understood everything.
All of a sudden, kindness. The command to stop working. It had all been preparation for this.
Her hands trembled as she clasped them tightly together.
The matriarch—who had called her cursed, useless, and unworthy of existence—now wanted her dead.
Of course, Heeyeon could not say yes. She had endured all the insults, all the hardships, just to survive. To live. She did not want to die like this.
Her breath wavered, but she forced the words out.
“I… I refuse.”
I don’t want to die.
She shook her head desperately. The matriarch’s expression turned icy.
“Refuse? I always knew you were selfish and spiteful, but I never imagined you would discard the honour so shamelessly.”
Nothing Heeyeon said would reach her. Still, she grasped at hope, begging:
“How does becoming a sacrifice protect the family’s honour? Please… withdraw your command.”
But the matriarch’s face twisted with contempt.
“You insist on making things difficult. It would have been better for you to obey quietly. Foolish girl.”
