Kumiho Na - Ri Demon War II
Copyright© 2025 by Jepasch
Chapter 2: Family Bond
De-Yong pulled his torn jacket tighter around himself. The violent monsoon rain had already soaked him through. Thoughtfully he studied his troop: five young lads who had survived their first battle against the samurai. Even though they had to mourn the loss of two comrades, the outcome was surprising: they had not only defeated a numerically, technically, and experientially superior enemy, but annihilated him completely. Now they crouched under the shelter of an improvised lean-to of branches and leaves to wait out the midday monsoon squall.
However, it was not the recruits who had earned this victory, but entirely different forces. De-Yong’s gaze drifted toward a large tree against whose trunk two supernaturally large vixens were crouched. One with silvery-white fur, the other with black-red. Apart from their size, something else about them was striking: the light one had nine tails, the dark one seven.
The kumihos seemed annoyed—and they were. In their fox form they could not speak, but Yun, the younger of the two kumihos with the seven tails, was mentally linked to De-Yong.
“Have you finally decided how we’re going to proceed?” her question pressed into his mind once again. Yun was not a particularly restrained demon. Humans were her toys—sometimes food, usually just servants, not equal beings.
By now, De-Yong was thoroughly familiar with Yun’s moods. She had lived among humans for so long that she had adopted many of their traits. She loved beautiful clothes, refined dishes—and fresh human blood during lovemaking. Quite unlike her wild sister. Na-Ri had mostly avoided civilization and preferred to live alone and naked in the jungle. Contacts with humans were sporadic, not infrequently with an unpleasant outcome for one or both sides. If it had been up to Na-Ri, the kumihos would have accompanied the humans not in their fox form but in their human form—regardless of the fact that they had lost all their clothing during the battle. But both De-Yong and Yun had convinced her that this was better for everyone. Reluctantly, she had given in.
But De-Yong, too, was irritable. He hated being bound to Yun. Not only was she constantly present in his head—there was also that other thing...
“By the way, we should unite again now. You still stubbornly refuse to drink blood!” came her demand for the “act of love.”
De-Yong forced himself to keep his emotions under control and not let them seep through to Yun. Yun was very easily provoked. However, when it came to irritability, the two sisters were frighteningly similar.
“When the rain has stopped, we can withdraw for a moment. And please tell Na-Ri not to watch us again,” De-Yong phrased his reply.
“Explain that to her yourself, please. I don’t feel like having a discussion through my head!”
This time De-Yong could not suppress a deep sigh, which earned him puzzled looks from the recruits around him. Embarrassed, he turned his head away. With a faintly reddened face he continued the deadlocked discussion: “Coming back to your question—no, I haven’t. I can’t simply accompany you to the court in Pyongyang. Apart from my duty as an officer to return to my commander, I now also have responsibility for these boys here. And I won’t leave them under Na-Ri’s leadership.”
“In war, priorities change. At court you can, with my help, achieve far more for victory than if you throw yourself into battle. Even with my power, you are not invulnerable—let alone immortal. And with your troop I cannot accompany you. You see the problem?”
De-Yong was only too aware of it. Had he known from the beginning what it meant to be bound to a kumiho, he would never have agreed. But now there was no turning back. Perhaps he could at least solve the problem.
“Yun, can I give you the pearl back and take Na-Ri’s again directly?”
Yun took an unusually long time to answer. When she finally did, she sounded very hesitant.
“As soon as you give my pearl back to me, you will fall into a coma. Na-Ri won’t be able to give you her pearl then.”
De-Yong grew suspicious. In a thought-dialogue, lying was impossible—but one could still omit things.
“I have already surrendered a pearl—when I carried both your pearls inside me!”
Yun did not answer.
“We can do that again, can’t we?” he pressed.
“Yes—if Na-Ri agrees!” Yun finally admitted.
De-Yong sprang to his feet. The recruits looked at him curiously.
“I have to speak with the women. Won’t take long!”
Here and there, a knowing smile played around the young men’s mouths.
Cursing softly, De-Yong stepped out into the rain and went to the foxes. It was time anyway to speak with Na-Ri thoroughly.
When De-Yong approached the foxes, they rose and shook the wetness from their fur. De-Yong walked past them, deeper into the forest. Soundlessly they followed him. When they were out of earshot and sight, he stopped beneath a broad-spreading tree and searched for a spot where it was relatively dry. Na-Ri and Yun joined him in their human shapes—both of course naked. Expectantly they looked at him.
What De-Yong had to say, he would have preferred to discuss alone with Na-Ri; but given the mental bond of these beings, that was pointless. Na-Ri’s new hair color still irritated him. Since her rebirth, what had once been long, black hair had become very short and silvery-white. But her other appearance was unchanged. Embarrassed, he cleared his throat, averting his eyes shamefully from their seductive bodies.
“Na-Ri, since your return we haven’t been able to speak in peace, even though we have communicated through Yun. I’m very glad that you’re back in our world and not dead!”
Na-Ri tilted her head slightly, but said nothing.
De-Yong could practically see her mocking thoughts: ‘Why are you stating the obvious, human?’
He hurried on.
“We entered our bond through a mutual misunderstanding, but by now it is no longer a burden to me—it is an honor. I thank you from the depths of my heart for choosing me! Na-Ri, I love you—and I want to be bound to you again!”
He bowed deeply.
Both kumihos seemed genuinely stunned.
Na-Ri was confused. Not only by De-Yong’s confession, but by her own feelings. It was as if her heart made a leap as she heard his words.
“That feeling is called love!” her sister’s thoughts cut into her mind.
“Even if I don’t know it myself, I know it all too well among humans. I wouldn’t have expected you to be able to feel something like that too, big sister!”
The truth was that Na-Ri herself had changed—not only her hair color. The shared fight with De-Yong against the Great Devourer had created a bond that was almost as strong as with Yun. But then it broke when De-Yong lost the pearl, leaving behind a sense of loss and emptiness.
And since she had been back in this world, she felt emotions that had been completely foreign to her until then. Where she had previously weighed things coldly and indulged only her momentary whims, doubts now appeared. For the first time she felt the passage of time and mortality.
But what was she supposed to answer now?
Mentally she all but screamed: “Why are humans and their feelings so complicated?”
“That problem, dear sister, you have to solve yourself. I have no experience whatsoever with such feelings. And frankly, I don’t want any. I’m withdrawing!”
Abruptly the connection to Yun broke off. Confused and trembling, Na-Ri stood in the rain. De-Yong watched, astonished, as Yun transformed back into a fox and ran back to the recruits. Na-Ri didn’t look after her; she stood there, still and trembling. Was she freezing? No—that couldn’t be. Until now Na-Ri had shown herself unaffected by any weather. So there must have been a quarrel between the two. Embarrassed, he looked away.
The patter of rain slowly grew weaker, while their silence became ever more oppressive. Finally De-Yong could not bear it any longer.
“It’s all right, Na-Ri. I can understand that you can’t love a human. And you had already made it clear to me that you considered our bond a mistake. Still, I wanted to tell you. I’m sorry.”
Determined, he too started back toward the camp.
“Wait!” Na-Ri stopped him.
De-Yong had already walked past Na-Ri; now he halted, but did not turn around, so that they stood back to back.
“Yes, it’s true that I hated our bond. In fact, I would have killed you if the goddess hadn’t forbidden it. But you already knew that. Yet...” Na-Ri turned around, “I am not the Na-Ri of back then anymore. That Na-Ri died when her head was cut off and she had to return to the demon world. I am standing here only because of you, De-Yong! Since I came back, I’m different. I can’t put it into words, but it’s as if I had gained a tenth tail— as if the goddess had given me something new. And it scares me. And fear is a feeling we kumihos don’t really know. De-Yong, I’m also afraid of losing you!”
Slowly he turned around. Were those tears on the kumiho’s face—or was it the rain? He didn’t understand what she meant, but he recognized that she truly was afraid. Following an impulse, he stepped up to her and wrapped his arms around her. Hesitantly she raised her arms as well and returned the embrace, resting her head on his shoulder. The rain stopped completely.
When Na-Ri and De-Yong returned to camp soon afterward, everyone was already ready to depart. Na-Ri and Yun were back in their fox shapes and deliberately kept a little apart. The recruits were still afraid of the demons, even though they knew they were allies.
“All right, men—we will reach my family this evening. There we will stock up on supplies and equipment before we fight our way south to Admiral Yi. Unfortunately we don’t have much time to rest, because the war is not over yet. The route through Seoul is barred to us by the Japanese, so we can’t take a ship either.”
De-Yong gestured toward the two foxes. “With their help we can avoid Japanese patrols. Still, incidents may occur. But: I am sure we will be able to defeat any samurai troop that gets in our way! You passed your first fight with flying colors and can be proud of yourselves! Now let’s move out.”
De-Yong grabbed his bundle with his scant belongings and the captured weapons. Each of his recruits carried Japanese weapons taken as spoils. The valuable arquebuses were among them. However, they were not usable because they lacked the necessary gunpowder. In addition, the constant rain made the use of firearms difficult. As ranged weapons they had a crossbow and a few bows. The captured swords were suitable for defense, but against well-trained samurai the recruits had no chance in close combat. Should it come to that, De-Yong and the kumihos would fight the main battle.
Together with Na-Ri he took the lead, while Yun stayed noticeably farther back to cover the rear. De-Yong did not want to be surprised by a mounted patrol again. Na-Ri’s sense of smell had been fully restored since her rebirth, and together with her excellent hearing she could scout ahead well. The only annoyance was that they could not talk.
As they approached his home region, De-Yong knew the area well. They kept to side paths that meant a detour but largely avoided encounters with other travelers and soldiers. Encounters could not be avoided entirely, though. Mountain farmers, hunters, and woodcutters were everywhere. Whenever Na-Ri noticed something, she signaled by stopping that an encounter was imminent. Then she quickly withdrew into the forest, where she hid and could observe what was happening. It was up to De-Yong to dispel the locals’ distrust.
When they ran into a wood gatherer, he immediately tried to flee. De-Yong called after him at once that they were Koreans and fleeing from the Japanese, that he had nothing to fear. Then he laid down his weapons and went to the man while the others waited. De-Yong identified himself as a nobleman, spoke with him, asked for news and whether Japanese had been seen in the area, then dismissed him with a friendly greeting.
But the main problem occupying De-Yong the entire time was arriving at his family’s home. How in the devil was he supposed to explain that he was traveling in the company of two women—who were, moreover, unclothed? Nearby there was no market where he could buy clothing. Around the family estate there were only rice fields, in which the kumihos could not hide either. At the very least, Yun would always have to stay close to him. That was advantageous, because Yun had experience with etiquette as a gisaeng—quite unlike Na-Ri. Even if the sisters could share knowledge and experience, that did not automatically mean they also adopted it. Suddenly De-Yong had an idea. Jae-Sung, his former teacher, could help him. Still, the problem remained of how he was to get into the village.
“Yun,” he called to her through the mental link. “How far can we separate from each other? Na-Ri said we mustn’t be more than a hundred paces apart. But that isn’t true. I’ve already been much farther from her.”
Hesitantly the answer came: “You must understand that there is no fixed boundary. The farther the pearls are separated, the more chi they consume. You know what happens when we have no chi left. Separating briefly—say, half a day’s march—is possible. At that distance, the separation can be maintained for two or three days. Immediately afterward, compensation is mandatory, and a few drops of blood won’t be enough. We can even fall into blood frenzy! That’s why the hundred-pace limit!”
De-Yong swallowed. He knew only too well what a kumiho in blood frenzy was like. The events of the last full moon would be burned into his memory forever. If he had not been protected by the barrier, Na-Ri would have attacked him and the recruits as well. But at least it was possible that he could enter the village alone first.
With slightly quickened steps, he followed the path home.
When they neared his home village toward evening, De-Yong had his group rest hidden. He wanted to go into the village alone first and seek out his former mentor.
From the edge of the forest he looked over the rice fields and the village. What he saw did not surprise him—yet it frightened him. The rice fields were only half planted. Although it was already evening, he still saw women setting seedlings into the flooded fields. Children no older than twelve, with simple wooden spears, stood guard. Around the village they had begun to build a fortification: a simple earthen rampart, barely two meters high. But it was finished nowhere. There was no sign of the necessary palisade logs. At the entrance stood a watchtower of bamboo, protected only by a reed roof. Bamboo served as an improvised bell. Even the guard on the tower seemed to be a child.
With a worried look he walked the main path to the village entrance. The women hastily covered their faces with cloths while the child guards eyed him distrustfully. His tattered clothing and the weapons he carried visibly frightened them. Uncertainly they glanced at one another. Finally one boy took heart and stepped into his way.
“Halt, stranger—what do you want here?”
De-Yong stopped and smiled kindly.
“Is that you, Pak? Don’t you recognize me? I’m Na De-Yong. Step aside and let me pass!”
Uncertainly Pak stepped back and let him through. Only belatedly did it occur to him to bow before the nobleman.
Without paying him further attention, De-Yong strode past.
At the watchtower he stopped again. To the alarmed boy he called: “I am Na De-Yong and I have come home for a visit. But first I wish to see Jae-Sung. Is he at the school?”
After a brief hesitation, the addressed boy nodded.
As De-Yong walked through the half-finished gate, the boys looked at each other in bewilderment. They were curious, but they could not leave their post. Besides, it would not have been proper to meddle in the affairs of noblemen.
The village school was a typical long Hanok house with a thatched roof. At the same time it also served as the teacher’s home for him and his family. During lessons, the school area was separated from the rest of the living quarters by a paper wall so that the teacher’s wife and children would not disturb. Women and girls were not taught at the school.