With strength returning to his limbs, Mulgeza rose from the underbrush.
To die in this backwater— The thought curdled in his throat.
Better to have died taking that bastard prince's head than to perish like a stray dog.
His father's words haunted him again: "The humble may survive, but the arrogant always fall."
He exhaled slowly, watching as the armed ascetics closed in around him, weapons drawn. He did not flinch. He did not flee. Instead, a strange calm overtook him—like a boy who had grown old overnight.
With a dry laugh, he muttered, "So… the great sage of the forest can't handle being called out. And this is how they answer criticism?"
One of the robed attackers—a man clad in ash-grey—lunged with his sword. Mulgeza slipped half a step back and brought his own blade down across the man's back.
The man crumpled—then stood, unharmed.
Mulgeza narrowed his eyes. "Thought so... You don't die when cut."
They came at him together now, swift and coordinated, their strikes aimed at his throat, his heart, his spine.
Mulgeza danced between death and inches. He countered with precision—every riposte striking a place that should have ended a man. And yet… not one of them fell.
His breath caught in disbelief.
"Why don't you die? How is this possible?!"
A voice answered—not from the ground, but from above.
"Because they're not human."
All movement stopped.
Swords froze mid-air. Eyes turned upward, following the voice.
Perched lazily on the branch of a tall pine, a man sat cross-legged, looking down with a grin.
Goi.
"What's with the shocked faces?" he called down, as if he were commenting on the weather.
With the grace of a breeze, he stepped off the branch and floated gently to the forest floor—like a sage descending from the heavens.
"If monsters are startled by a man," he said, unsheathing his bronze gladius with a low, metallic whisper, "isn't that a little embarrassing for the monsters?"
Mulgeza's strength finally gave out. He collapsed to his knees, breath hitching as he stared blankly ahead.
"There's always a higher sky above the sky…"
Goi moved like a painter gracing the heavens with strokes of golden light—his bronze gladius sweeping through the air as if dipped in luminous ink. Enemies touched by that golden arc fell like lifeless puppets, crumpling where they stood.
Mulgeza watched, eyes wide, refusing to blink for even a heartbeat.
How high above mine is his sky…?
There was no hesitation in Goi's movement, no gap between thought and action. It was like watching a divine calligraphy performed in the clouds—a dance of pure stillness and precision. In that moment, Mulgeza fell utterly, helplessly in awe.
As Goi slid his gladius back into its sheath, the golden glow dissolved into the air. The invincible enemies who had withstood blade and blood now collapsed, one after another, with dull, final thuds.
Then Goi knelt beside him, pulling a cloth from his robe and pressing it firmly to the left side of Mulgeza's ribcage. Pain made the boy flinch, but his gaze stayed fixed on the man above him.
"Thank you… swordsman… or maybe... sage? Priest?"
Goi chuckled. "Call me whatever you like. I won't complain."
He passed Mulgeza the cloth, and the boy pressed it to his own wound. Goi opened a small bundle and took out a handful of dried herbs.
"This'll help. Dried Baegeup. It's good for bleeding."
Mulgeza's face twisted as the herb touched his wound. Goi gave a crooked smile.
"Stings, huh? That's how you know it's working."
The boy groaned again, but he couldn't look away. "Are you… a celestial being? How did you defeat them so easily…?"
Goi smirked faintly. "Me? Just a passing vagrant. Nothing divine about me."
Then his tone softened. "But really—what happened here?"
Mulgeza hesitated, wincing again. "I was… wandering for my training. I heard of a sage said to dwell in Yimul Forest. I only meant to observe…"
He clenched his jaw against the pain. Goi leaned forward and gently slipped a few dark pills into the boy's palm.
"Myrrh pills. Swallow them—they'll dull the pain a bit." He handed him a gourd of water.
Mulgeza drank. As the pills went down, Goi placed his hand lightly on the boy's chest, letting a warm pulse of energy spread into him. The pain dulled, and Mulgeza finally exhaled.
Raising one hand, he pointed weakly toward the monastery nestled in the forest.
"That's where it started… the Mingrang Monastery…"
As Mulgeza began recounting the tale, Goi listened in silence, steadying the boy with subtle waves of calming force. Once the story ended, he stood up slowly.
"You stay here and rest. I'll go have a word with that sage."
With a single effortless leap, Goi soared up to a high pine branch overhead. The leaves rustled as he vanished into the distance, his footsteps fading like a breeze among the trees.
Mulgeza watched the treetops for as long as he could.
"Will I ever reach that sky…?" he whispered.
"Even if only once… in this lifetime?"
And with that, he closed his eyes again—and began to breathe.