Chapter 619

The mask originates from Cham.

The being this mask represents is a spirit and the God of Auspiciousness.

Long ago in Tibet, there existed an evil spirit that committed vile acts. At that time, Padmasambhava appeared, melting the snow to create a lake, boiling the lake’s water to shape it into a skull-like form. The wicked spirit, unable to endure such horrific pain, surrendered, becoming a protective spirit of Heaven’s Platform, guiding the spirits of ghosts and transforming into the God of Auspiciousness.

In Tibet, there is a funeral rite performed on Heaven’s Platform where the corpse of the deceased is cut into pieces and fed to eagles. This ritual is meant to offer the body to the sacred eagles, allowing the soul to ascend to the sky.

Moreover, the protective spirit of Heaven’s Platform prevents the souls and bodies of the deceased from suffering harm from evil forces and aids the soul in ascending without issues. When the eagle wanders, it is said to even take the deceased’s body along with it, making it a spirit that, despite its bizarre appearance, provides help to many.

However, the boiling lake water disfigures its face into a ghastly skull form, and the five small skulls atop its head symbolize divinity and auspiciousness, adding to the bizarre nature of its visage…

Children have been known to burst into tears upon seeing this mask during religious mask plays.

The face that Jinseong wore was this very being’s mask.

Known as the Sitārīm, it is one of the true masks from Tibet.

Of course, since it was hastily made, upon closer inspection one might feel its clumsiness…

But really, who cares about quality when there is no actual performance planned?

What matters is the reason for wearing this mask.

‘Ancestors believed that donning a mask allowed one to become that being. This is why a mask is always present wherever people exist.’

Wearing a mask means concealing one’s face and transforming into another’s visage. Unlike a mirror reflecting one’s true self, a mask hides one’s appearance while revealing another.

In the West, the etymology of mask is infused with the desires of those wanting to become supernatural beings, while in the East, it is viewed as concealing one’s face to present a false one… Our ancestors believed that by wearing a mask, they could become someone else. They embraced this significance to enact plays and perform, offer blessings, curse others, mock, or worship as needed.

Thus, in this moment, Jinseong has transformed from Park Jinseong into a supernatural being. The history, the legends, the tales have imbued him with supernatural power.

Woooosh.

Just as Padmasambhava melted the snow, he melts the surroundings. Steam spreads as the frozen ground thaws, transforming here and there into a moist landscape. Drops of water form, and the earth becomes murky. The temperature rises, causing evaporation, and the once damp ground turns into a muddy quagmire. Water, seemingly from nowhere, seeps up to create puddles that soon bubble and release steam.

And there stands Jinseong in the center, completely unharmed.

It’s because his flesh had already been boiled away, leaving no more skin to peel off.

Wearing the porcelain-white skull form, he has no flesh, and it’s hard and unyielding; hence, he’s devoid of any remaining tissue. Only the hollow eye sockets deep within are tinged red, reflecting the agony of the boiling water, revealing a body that feels the heat of being cooked alive, yet having surrendered, feels no pain whatsoever.

And thus, Jinseong stood above the roiling water.

The hollow eyes of the mask directed toward the place Kenneth disappeared, while the eyes within the mask tightly closed in effort to sense the surroundings.

Between the bubbling of water below and the noise of rising steam, distant sounds of beasts and insects, the rumblings of lava flowing down the slope, the vibrations of a heart pounding from the effects of magic, and the panting breath escaping from inside the mask creating that disturbing sensation…

And.

It was felt.

‘I have died.’

*

The sled sinks.

The sled, racing downward ablaze, soon saw the vines binding the wood reduced to ash, the burning wood splintering and twisting, distorting the shape of the sled. Subsequently, the sled, unable to fulfill its purpose, was swallowed by lava, dragging Kenneth down with it.

Sssszzz.

Thus Kenneth descends into the lava.

Swallowing flesh… or rather, burning flesh in that horrendous lava.

The pain is something that defies description, a level so profound it struggles to convey even a tenth of it.

Nerves go haywire, life squeezing tightly for relief, secreting every conceivable substance.

Yet, the excruciating sensation of being incinerated alive cannot be forgotten; thus, Kenneth must feel the agony of his body roasting.

Yet amidst the horrifying heat akin to burning sulfur, a small mercy allowed him to maintain his sanity.

The obsidian dagger lodged in his abdomen kept his mind clear, preventing him from fainting.

To feel this pain until the point of death could be deemed a dreadful curse, but the obsidian dagger, while remaining intact within Kenneth’s belly, did not worry whether it was a curse or a blessing; it continued fulfilling its role.

Accepting the ghastly heat of the lava, it relayed that heat to its edge embedded in Kenneth’s body. And without melting, it pressed that heat directly into Kenneth, cooking and turning his insides to ash.

If one were to open Kenneth’s belly now, it would be horrifying.

Far worse than meat overcooked to ashes… a mass akin to charcoal would fill it completely.

Yet, the fact that, despite having become charcoal, his breath does not immediately cease is indeed a curious matter…

I understand.

‘Mind, body, and soul are one… Even if one is damaged, if the other two raise it, such miracles can indeed be possible.’

Kenneth realized.

That he can still think with this body that should have died already is a miracle crafted by his soul and mind. And this miracle, truly a miracle, cannot persist indefinitely, making it such that he can only think for a fleeting moment.

Ah!

To die as if falling asleep is a blessing.

If death is a long sleep from which he knows not when he will awaken, then the start is surely within drowsiness as he closes his eyes.

But can being awake until the very moment of death be the opposite of that?

Even if he suffers from pain, to be able to think up until the final moment—could that indeed be a curse?

Cogito, ergo sum.

Now, at this very moment, he exists.

More clearly than just breathing without thinking, he exists.

Should he be able to feel existence while thinking and contemplating.

Then, was I truly alive?

In the past, when he merely existed, aimlessly wandering without purpose as if caught in a warped image of his goals—was that indeed living?

What is it, in the first place, to be alive?

If life is the journey to achieve a purpose or goal, what significance did his life hold?

If just breathing counts as being alive, then did his life hold any value at all?

‘It did. My life surely possessed clear value.’

Evaluations are made by others.

But facing death, now capable of discerning himself with clarity, he could explicitly declare it.

That his life had value and that he would not die without accomplishing anything.

‘I left my footprints in the world through my thesis.’

Finding joy in learning, he attended university and then graduate school.

Learning under a professor, he earned a degree.

Through continuous research, he gained fame as a scholar, and some of his papers received recognition, influencing the world.

‘I witnessed calamities and set great ambitions.’

A change occurred in a life that could merely end as a scholar.

Desiring to mend the deteriorating world, to restore it, he endeavored.

Fearing calamity and grieving for those suffering beneath it, he resolved to protect people from disaster, overcoming his fears.

‘I learned magic and averted disaster.’

Yet the movements of scholars are often slow, which can be a flaw.

Thus, to save those suffering before his eyes, he learned magic.

He did not fear the destruction of his body but sought to save them from the pains of calamity.

No.

It was not salvation.

He merely helped his neighbors whom he could see.

Giving a slice of bread to a famished child next door.

Throwing a tube to someone drowning.

Calling 911 for someone injured.

Offering a fare to a traveler weeping because they couldn’t return home after a mugging…

His actions were essentially no different from that.

He felt compassion and simply helped because he was capable of lending a hand.

To call this grand act of salvation was too much.

He was no hero; he merely wished to extend a helping hand to those poor souls…

‘Those who wish to be treated well must first treat others well; this is the golden rule…’

How did treating guests generously begin?

How did the belief that treating guests would bring blessings persist?

Those who were favored as guests also repaid kindness when guests arrived. And thus, the cycle continued, benefiting everyone.

Ah.

How could this be deemed meaningless?

The kindness bestowed upon the needy will continue.

Those saved from calamity will aid those in need.

Whether large or small, they will act just as they were helped.

And it will continue, making the world a better place.

Of course, there will be villains.

Those who repay kindness with malice may exist.

Many will likely live herewith no memory of the aid they once received.

Yet, he knows.

He is capable of believing.

Is there not a precedent for such?

Our ancestors were no different.

There had to be instances where those welcomed as guests turned into robbers.

There had to be those who, upon receiving kindness, refused to return it.

Undoubtedly, there were those who treated guests poorly.

Yet even so.

Despite the existence of such individuals, we have continued to host guests to this day.

When guests arrive, we offer food and provide rest.

Even when resources are scarce, we offer them a cup of tea or water, leaving them with kinds words.

Even if that is impossible, we may offer them a smile.

And thus, it will continue.

The kindness that sought to save people from calamity will persist in this way.

Just as with the Great Ritual of Magic that averted disasters, it may not be tangible, nor leave a written mark like a thesis, yet it will remain in the hearts of people, continuing to improve the world.

‘My life has held value…’

It is so assertive because of him.

So it shall be for those he aided.

And thus, it shall manifest in the hearts that continue on.

‘And here lies my final goal.’

Ah, I feel no pain.

I feel no horrifying agony.

The horrid stench and sounds of my flesh burning are absent.

The distorted vision masked by pain has faded away.

Yet curiously, through the mind, he could feel the five senses.

With the heart, he could recognize that one last breath remains…

Therefore, he wishes from his heart.

‘Please, stop this volcano. May people not suffer from disaster. May their hearts be filled with happiness, and may they reach for those in need. Thus, may their hands connect…’

With that last breath…

‘Let love abound in this world…’

…He hoped.

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