As we soared through the sky heading downstream, the one moment we’d hoped wouldn’t come... arrived.
Yeondu started to falter from exhaustion.
Though Yeondu was older than Cho, perhaps due to the difference between a Ten Great Poison Beast and a Twenty-Four Poison Branch Beast, Yeondu’s stamina gave out first. As her body dipped and her pouch brushed against the surface of the water, Seomi and Byeogi screamed in terror.
–SPLASH!
–“Whyyeee! Whyyy!”
–Shaaa. 『S-Sorry...』
Yeondu quickly recovered and pulled herself higher, but not long after, Cho started drooping and skimming the water too.
It seemed the difference between the two didn’t matter after all.
This was simply pure exhaustion.
–Splash!
–“Whyyeee! Whyyy!”
Seomi and Byeogi let out another round of panicked shrieks.
But Cho was so out of it she couldn’t even apologize. She was completely dazed.
I looked back and forth between them, heart aching. Yeondu’s gaze had lost focus, and Cho’s antennae were hanging limp.
We needed to stop and rest immediately—but if they landed now, they wouldn’t be able to take off again.
It was like hiking: if you stop to rest when your body is pushed to its limit, it becomes ten times harder to move again. Their bodies and minds were pushed to the brink. If they rested now, they'd crash completely.
I quickly called out to Hwanji and Hwana, whom I’d summoned earlier.
‘Hwanji, Hwana! Where are you!?’
Their voices replied almost instantly.
–Shua. 『We’re here, Master So-ryong!』
–Shii. 『Right here!』
‘Where is “here”?!’
Just saying “here” doesn’t help—how was I supposed to know what that meant?
But then I realized—they weren’t human, so they probably had no sense of landmarks.
Snakes wouldn’t use things like cities for orientation.
As I was puzzling over how to get their location—
–Splash!
I heard the pouch brush water again and glanced down.
From below, two massive snake heads cut through the current and rose to the surface like periscopes.
The water parted—one head white, the other red.
With cheerful voices, the two greeted me.
–Shua. 『Of course we’re here.』
–Shii. 『Hwanji and Hwana, reporting in!』
The two had apparently already arrived and were trailing us.
I’d never been so happy to see someone in my life.
Now I understood what it meant to feel joy like meeting one’s ancestors in the afterlife.
I felt like hugging them and showering them in kisses.
“Kids!”
Overcome with joy, I shouted emotionally. The two smiled at me, concerned for their little siblings.
–Shua. 『First, place the little ones on our heads.』
–Shii. 『That’s right, Master So-ryong.』
“Okay, got it. Kids! Wake up—Hwanji and Hwana are here!”
I tried to tell Yeondu and Cho to wake up because Hwanji and Hwana had arrived, but Cho couldn’t even distinguish between “sister” and “mother” anymore.
–Shaaa? 『S-Sister?』
–Tzrrr... 『M-Mom...』
They’d done enough. They could finally rest.
“You did great. Let’s go down now.”
I gently coaxed them to descend, and slowly, they began to lower their altitude.
But they couldn’t go low enough on their own.
They were too far gone to manage the descent properly—it was clear their last bit of awareness was telling them not to lose altitude too quickly.
“You need to go lower!”
I shouted again, trying to jolt them back, but their bodies were already limp. They were flying on instinct alone.
I had to press down on their heads to force them lower.
As their pouches reached the height of Hwanji and Hwana’s mouths, the two snakes bit down on the pouch straps.
They pulled tightly and lowered them further, finally guiding Cho and Yeondu onto their heads.
The moment their bellies touched down on the snake heads, they flinched—then collapsed, completely asleep.
It was like their minds finally shut off the moment they felt something solid beneath them.
–Shuaaa. 『Oh my, look at them... they must’ve been exhausted.』
–Shii. 『No kidding.』
Hwanji and Hwana looked pitifully at the two sleeping beasts.
I felt bad too—but there was no time to dwell on it.
“We need to go as fast as possible. If we’re late, we’re in trouble.”
–Shuaaa. 『Understood, Master So-ryong!』
–Shii. 『Let’s go!』
The massive twin-headed snakes skimmed across the river surface, moving at high speed. Occasionally, fishing boats or ferrymen caught sight of them—and screamed.
“Hiieeek!”
“Sn-snakes?!”
Normally we’d move stealthily to avoid detection—but not now.
If the threadworms escaped into the Lancang River, it would become a river of death.
If that happened, the Mekong River—the lifeline of Southeast Asia—would be ruined.
So I yelled at them to ignore everything and just move downstream, fast.
We were seriously running out of time.
If the threadworms got loose, it might spell the end of Southeast Asian history.
“Forget everything—just run!”
–Shuaaa. 『Roger that, Master So-ryong! This is fun!』
–Shii. 『Kyaaa! So exciting!』
Their cheerful voices echoed behind me.
I was frantic—but Hwanji and Hwana were just happily zipping along, thrilled by the ride.
***
About two hours had passed when the dock of the Beast Palace came into view ahead.
But there was no time to stop there.
Our destination lay further downstream—at the mouth of a tributary near the border.
“Just pass it!”
–Shua. 『Yes, sir!』
–Shii! 『Got it!』
The Beast Palace was nearly empty, most of its warriors having been deployed. We passed by and headed toward the border.
From here, the border was about thirty minutes away.
I was too anxious to ask for updates and could only keep my eyes forward.
Riding atop Hwanji and Hwana past the Beast Palace, we pressed on for quite some time.
Finally, the tributary leading toward the border came into view.
“There! We’re here!”
As we neared the tributary’s mouth, I spotted our boat docked there.
But Geumdo was nowhere to be seen—meaning he had likely been deployed to block the current too.
I had told them to use Geumdo if it got urgent.
“As expected, even Geumdo was mobilized.”
Only a few boatmen remained; «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» the children were nowhere to be seen.
–Plip. Plip-plip.
As we passed the boat, raindrops began to fall.
Just as Hwa-eun said—it was raining here.
When we reached the tributary’s mouth, Geumdo’s enormous body was there, turned sideways to block the waterway.
His golden shell gleamed in my vision.
As I had expected—they’d used him to block the current in a hurry.
Water was surging through the gaps between Geumdo’s head and tail.
Just as we were about to pass over Geumdo’s tail on Hwanji and Hwana’s heads, I saw a group of warriors spearing threadworms over the net with long bamboo poles.
Baby Poison Larvae skewered like candy sticks—too many to pierce more, the warriors were frozen in place, unsure what to do.
And up front—
Yo-hwa was desperately trying to hold the net together, clutching at it with her legs, unable to produce more web.
In her condition, anyone else would’ve given up—but we had made a promise, and she was fighting to keep it, hanging onto the web with all her might.
Yo-hwa, that girl! She’s hopeless—except for the fact she loves her brother way too much!
Choked with emotion, I yelled to Hwanji and Hwana.
“Yo-hwa! Guys, drop me off there!”
Hwanji and Hwana quickly veered and lowered me beside Yo-hwa.
–Ksssh! 『Brother!』
Yo-hwa, still pulling the web, called out joyfully the moment she saw me—and I quickly stuck a finger into her spider mouth.
“Here, Yo-hwa—eat up!”
–Kishishi! 『Okay, Brother!』
At the same time, I called out to Seomi and Byeogi.
This spot needed clearing first.
“Seomi! Byeogi! If you use electric shock too strongly here, you’ll hurt people! Hit the threadworms directly!”
–“Whyyy! Whyyy!”
As soon as I let them loose in front of Yo-hwa’s net, they zipped through the swarms, flipping Poison Larvae onto their backs with precise shock strikes.
Come to think of it, nothing was more of a natural predator to these things than Seomi and Byeogi.
Their bodies were coated in a sticky secretion that prevented the threadworms from latching on, and they were fast and agile enough to deliver targeted electric shocks.
I planned to stabilize Yo-hwa and then move forward—but suddenly, I felt vitality drain from my fingertips.
The kind of post-drain fatigue I’d only experienced two or three times with Hwa-eun hit me all at once.
‘Whoa... this is serious.’
Yo-hwa had never sucked me this dry before—it was surprising.
Only now did I realize how much she had been holding herself back all this time.
And with that exhaustion came the inevitable: the Sage’s Time.
My mind cleared in an instant, sharp and utterly rational.
At this rate, I could probably solve calculus or factor polynomials in my head without hesitation.
‘How can I be having Sage’s Time... when I didn’t even do anything!?’
Amazed that I was feeling this way despite doing absolutely nothing, I spoke to Yo-hwa.
“Yo-hwa, your hunger’s taken care of, right? The inner side’s in worse shape—I need to go there next. Can you manage now?”
–Ksssh! 『I’m full, Brother. Don’t worry about this place. Just trust Yo-hwa!』
–FWOOM!
After telling me to leave it to her, she immediately began firing webs in every direction.
With the net stabilized again, and Seomi and Byeogi flipping Poison Larvae onto their backs with electric shocks, this area was now under control.
That’s when it happened.
From atop Hwanji and Hwana’s heads, Cho stirred, her antennae trembling as she woke.
–Tzzrrr 『D-Dad...』
“Cho, are you awake? You can sleep more.”
It would’ve been ideal to have at least one of them flying again, but I couldn’t force them.
They had flown without rest for two and a half days.
That’s why I told her to sleep more—but Cho shook her head and got up.
–Tzzrt. 『Cho is okay, Dad.』
She wrapped around me and flew upward.
I was worried, but at this point, she wouldn’t listen to reason anyway.
This area would soon be under control—so I’d have to borrow her strength a little longer.
I called out to Seomi and Byeogi.
“Guys, let’s go!”
–“Whyyy! Whyyy!”
They answered like wailing sirens.
Then I shouted to the people nearby as well.
“Everyone! Get out of the water! You don’t need to hold position anymore—just fall back from the water’s edge! Quickly!”
I also shouted to Hwa-eun and Gun Hye-rin, who I knew had to be nearby.
『Everyone out of the water! Get away from the shore!』
“So-ryong! You’re here!”
“You’re here, Master!”
Hwa-eun’s delighted voice was quickly followed by Gun Hye-rin’s calling me “Master.”
She wasn’t even a pet, yet she was calling me that. Must be a side effect of the Registration.
They say if registration continues, affection toward the registered person skyrockets rapidly.
If I made a fuss about it, she’d only get angry at me—so I ignored it and adjusted Seomi and Byeogi’s trajectory from above.
“Guys! Three big ones ahead!”
Whatever had happened, there were now several big ones. Near Gun Hye-rin, whose body was flying through the air, the remains of threadworms were twitching and regenerating.
But as Seomi and Byeogi sliced through the water like fish, all the threadworms in their path flipped belly-up.
Their nervous systems shut down completely—no post-death stiffness, just slack bodies floating in the water.
“Guys! Let’s head upstream now!”
Everywhere the two Ho-ye passed, threadworms turned belly-up and floated lifelessly to the surface, one after another without end.
