Even My Life Is Yours Chapter 1

The glint in the yellow eyes was chilling.

‘A tiger.’

Gamyoung couldn’t even breathe properly as he faced the tiger before him. It was the first Gangmu (military exercise) held since his older brother, Kyungrak, ascended to the throne as the new emperor. In the first state event following a new emperor’s enthronement, it was imperative that only animals shed blood. Hence, it was customary not to release potentially harmful beasts like tigers. Yet, the beast clearly standing before him was a tiger, its yellow eyes gleaming menacingly.

‘Never show your back.’

The tutor who educated the princes had said so when dealing with beasts. However, theory and practice were different. Maintaining composure while facing a beast capable of shredding flesh with a single claw was easier said than done. The only reason Gamyoung could maintain his composure enough to steady his breathing was because this wasn’t his first encounter with a tiger.

Then, as now, the tiger’s eyes, fixed on its prey, held Gamyoung captive while simultaneously searching for an opening. Gamyoung did not avoid its gaze. The slightest flicker of his eyes would provoke the tiger to bare its fangs and charge. His legs, barely standing, felt rooted to the ground.

Watching the tiger prowling and assessing the situation, Gamyoung drew an arrow from his quiver as if it were his lifeline. He aimed at the tiger, pulling back the bowstring taut. His fingertips tingled from the intense tension.

One chance.

The moment it saw an opening, the beast would pounce, and his only option was to aim for a vulnerable spot and wound it. He never intended to kill it. Ending a tiger’s life with a single arrow was absurd. But if he could inflict even a small wound and hinder its movement, he wouldn’t meet an unfortunate end here.

He couldn’t allow his brother’s first act as emperor to be stained with his younger brother’s blood. Moreover, there was a face lingering in his mind that made dying too soon unacceptable.

Even as he stared, unblinking, raindrops clinging to his eyelashes streamed down his face incessantly. The sky, completely covered by dark storm clouds, growled ominously. Even through the pouring rain, the yellow eyes menacingly searched for an opening. Gamyoung slowly lowered his stance, raising his bow-holding arm and drawing the string in sync with the tiger’s movements. The tiger’s snout twitched, revealing its large canines, poised to pounce.

The torrential downpour, the damp smell of grass, and the tiger about to spring… It was just like that time, years ago, when he, a naive thirteen-year-old, encountered a tiger on a solitary hunting trip. The difference was that the thirteen-year-old’s body had grown to nineteen, strong enough to draw a bowstring properly.

Suddenly, lightning struck. The world was bathed in white, and then, from afar, the beast charged. The distance between them closed in an instant, and the tiger’s growl echoed nearby. As the arrow left the bow, flying towards the tiger’s shoulder, an unavoidable look of fear appeared on Gamyoung’s face. A single arrow to the shoulder wouldn’t be enough to stop the starved beast.

Death was imminent. Life and death were separated by a hair’s breadth. The tiger’s shadow, increasingly dark above him, took shape in the flashes of lightning.

Then it happened.

An arrow, shot from behind him, pierced the yellow eye with precision. As if aiming for the center of a target, the accurately placed arrow elicited a chillingly loud roar that resonated clearly even amidst the thunder. Instinctively, Gamyoung tried to turn and look back. In this country, only two people he knew could shoot an arrow with such skill.

“Hongyo….”

“Stay still.”

The voice beside his ear, a voice he heard almost every day, felt strangely unfamiliar. Hongyo’s voice, sometimes teasing, sometimes foolishly cheerful, sometimes dejected, sometimes innocently laughing like a child, now resonated low, like a whisper. However, beneath the pretense of calmness lay an unconcealable tremor of fear.

“Don’t breathe.”

Another arrow left the bow, whistling past his cheek with a chilling whoosh, piercing the soft chin just below the eye. The tiger, thrown off balance by the impact, stumbled as it landed. This was his only chance. His chance to escape.

Before Gamyoung could reach out to Hongyo, a firm hand grasped his. The hand was colder than the downpour soaking his body. Calloused fingertips brushed against his knuckles, and slender fingers gripped his tightly. They ran. As if they were the only two people left in the world.

Gamyoung looked at Hongyo’s back as he led him. A quiver, as always, hung on his back, clad not in his usual cotton training uniform, but in armor bestowed by the royal palace. Hongyo was a head shorter than him, but his back always brought a sense of reassurance.

When he first met him at thirteen, lost on a hunting trip, when they walked side by side through the marketplace, and even now.

However, in a situation where a tiger could catch up at any moment, such sentimentality was a luxury. Twigs and small stones crunched under their feet as they ran. This terrain was treacherous. Running through a ravine, where every step required caution, was only done when one’s life was on the line. And as expected, despite losing an eye, the tiger wasn’t giving up easily.

A loud roar echoed from behind, close enough to be caught. It felt as if the tiger’s outstretched paw would snatch his head at any moment. Suddenly, Hongyo changed direction, veering into a dense thicket. It wasn’t a place easily visible. But their pursuer was a beast. Even if the rain had washed away their tracks, the faint scent of blood would surely give them away. Gamyoung looked at Hongyo quizzically. Hongyo, who hunted daily, couldn’t possibly be unaware of this.

“Stay here until I come back.”

A chill ran down Gamyoung’s spine. Yeo Hongyo seemed determined to die. He wouldn’t say such a thing otherwise.

“Are you crazy? Even if you’re a skilled hunter, you can’t take on a tiger alone!”

“Then what do you suggest? That we both die here?”

“Yes! I’d rather we both die. No, we don’t both have to die. You have to live, Hongyo. If you die….”

I might as well be dead too. My life was already saved by Yeo Hongyo once, so I can’t push you into danger out of shame, can I, Hongyo? You’re my closest friend, aren’t you?

However, instead of saying those words, Gamyoung used the only tactic that worked on Hongyo.

“What about your grandmother? If her only grandchild dies, how am I supposed to bear her resentment?”

Indeed, it was the only tactic that worked. The light brown eyes, previously resolute, wavered. Seizing the opportunity, Gamyoung adjusted the grip on the sword at his waist. However, Hongyo was unnecessarily agile, even at a time like this.

“You sure do have a silver tongue. You’re a pampered young master, so your mind works fast.”

Before Gamyoung could react, Hongyo reached for his neck and pulled him into an embrace, which Gamyoung instinctively returned. His mind went blank as the small body pressed against him. A familiar sweet scent wafted through the damp air, amidst the smell of rain. Then, his body was pushed to the ground, and Hongyo pinned his shoulders firmly. He tried to sit up, but Hongyo’s grip was incredibly strong.

“Don’t worry. It’s not like this is my first hunt. I won’t die.”

“You really…!”

“Hey, Cha Gamyoung. Have you forgotten why I’m here?”

How could he forget? It was Gamyoung himself who had asked Hongyo to come as his bodyguard for the Gangmu. If he had known he would regret it this much, he would never have asked. But regretting it now wouldn’t change anything. So he had to protect him even more. He had to return Hongyo safely to his grandmother, as promised.

As if reading his mind, Hongyo pressed down on Gamyoung’s shoulders again as he attempted to sit up.

“My job is to protect you.”

With his usual bright smile, Hongyo acted as if it were nothing. But seeing that face, his heart pounded uncontrollably, unlike usual. He couldn’t tell if it was fear or the inexplicable fluttering he’d been feeling lately whenever he looked at Hongyo. He was momentarily lost in thought, as if he could hear his own heartbeat.

Sensing his weakened resolve, Hongyo lightly punched his shoulder with a loosely clenched fist.

“I’ll just distract it. Hide well, and if you don’t hear anything anymore, run. I’ll be right behind you.”

Then, before Gamyoung could grab him, Hongyo stood up and vanished from sight. All that remained was the brush of fabric against his outstretched fingertips. The tiger, pursuing them, followed the deliberately loud noises Hongyo made. Gamyoung jumped to his feet. His body moved faster than his mind. He gripped his sword and immediately followed.

He was pushing through the stones underfoot and the leaves brushing against his face when he saw Hongyo, drawing his bow again towards the tiger, which was still charging despite being hit by several arrows. Hongyo’s heel caught on a small rock as he backpedaled to create distance, and he tumbled down the slope behind him, with the tiger in pursuit.

His legs moved before he could think. The sword at his waist was now gripped in both hands. Just as the tiger’s hind legs propelled it to pounce on the unconscious Hongyo, Gamyoung’s sharp blade flashed, spraying blood around them. Losing its balance from the sudden attack, the tiger turned. He met its remaining menacing yellow eye head-on.

His grip on the sword hilt trembled violently. Thunder mingled with roars. Gamyoung braced himself, facing the tiger charging straight towards him. Even if he died, he had to take this beast down with him to the underworld.

Then it happened.

Whoosh.

An arrow flew from behind, piercing the tiger’s throat with precision. Dozens more arrows followed, finding their mark. Gamyoung turned. Amidst the guards stood a man in blue armor embroidered with a dragon. Above the armor, bearing the embroidery that only one person in this empire could wear, was a familiar face.

“Brother Kyungrak….”

Forgetting even the emperor’s honorific, Gamyoung hastily corrected himself, recognizing Kyungrak, and immediately ran towards Hongyo, who lay nearby.

Unconscious, Hongyo’s body followed Gamyoung’s pull. His limp arm dangled in the air before he was laid flat on the ground. Gamyoung knelt, cradling Hongyo’s head on his lap, and leaned over him. A faint breath could be heard between their faces, now close enough to touch. His clean cheek was smeared with blood and dirt. Gamyoung cupped his cheek and pressed their foreheads together.

“Thank goodness. Thank goodness, Hongyo.”

The name, uttered like a sob, escaped his lips repeatedly, carried away by the rain.