---

“Is the number of people really that important?”

It was a short question that could leave an ordinary person puzzled, questioning the intent behind it.

But Ashtosh’s reaction was different from what one might expect.

His yellow eyes shifted towards Jinseong, flickering with flames within them.

Those flames danced, stirred up by emotions once contained.

“…The life of a person is precious.”

“Is that so?”

Park Jinseong chuckled.

“O Flame Sage, do you believe there is a hierarchy to human lives?”

“Haha. How could there be a hierarchy to life? Each person is precious and deserves respect. That said, respect must be given, and as independent beings, individuals must bear their responsibilities for their actions. Everything, including myself, is valuable.”

Every life is precious…

“A person who claims to love everyone loves no one at all, and someone who claims to like everything truly likes nothing.”

If something exists, its opposite must exist as well. Ashtosh’s words rang true.

“Then let me ask again. Do you think there is a hierarchy within the human spirit?”

“Light and heavy are similar to what I’ve just mentioned.”

“Then what about value?”

“….”

As Park Jinseong’s question lingered, Ashtosh fell silent.

And that silence spoke louder than words.

“Everything in the world has its purpose. The divine creates nothing without value.”

“….”

“The purpose of the seemingly useless; it is said that everything in the world has its reason for existence.”

“….”

“Just like these words, everything in this world has its purpose, and distinguishing between light and heavy is quite a challenge.”

But you see,

“Value is indeed subjective. What may be a treasure worth millions to one person may be trash to another.”

Imagine a beautifully crafted hammer made by a renowned designer and jeweler for a blacksmith’s use.

It would surely be elegant and breathtaking.

For decoration, it would be overflowing with value as a collectible.

But is it a treasure to the blacksmith?

It is merely a hammer to be hung on the wall, admired but not truly usable.

When it clashes against the anvil, the ornamentation shatters, incapable of striking metal properly, becoming just a cumbersome object that can’t withstand heat.

That is how value works.

It varies depending on one’s perspective and is ultimately subjective.

Therefore, to Ashtosh, the value of a human spirit is not the same.

How could innumerable similar visions and a singularly unique vision hold the same value?

“A person is moved by unfamiliar landscapes. Within that emotion, they gain the wealth of experience. That’s why people embark on journeys, hoping to witness unfamiliar cultures.”

“That’s true.”

“And the more people there are, the more those unfamiliar landscapes and cultures tend to multiply, wouldn’t you agree?”

The collective unconscious grows larger as the number of people increases; it’s a network that expands in proportion to its numbers.

“In that sense, let me ask you, Ashtosh Singh, Flame Sage: you,”

“….”

“What made you so sure that I sought immortality?”

What kind of conviction did you hold for attempting to negotiate my passage into China using immortality as a means?

Park Jinseong chuckled as he posed the question.

…

…

The silence stretched on.

The entanglement of hollow gazes.

In the stillness, the crackling of burning firewood could be heard, as if something was sizzling away.

Crackle, crackle.

It burns well.

Sparks fly and embers scatter.

The sound of burning wood plays on.

Is it heard by the ears?

Or by the eyes?

Perhaps it’s heard within the mind.

Or maybe by the soul.

The five senses meld into the sixth.

The sixth transcends to the seventh.

And within that noise-filled silence,

“Do you know?”

Ashtosh began to speak slowly.

“Seeker. You. Your scent of blood is quite strong.”

“Haha, is that so?”

“And at the same time, it’s strangely absent.”

Eyes.

The curtain obscuring his pupils begins to lift.

The white-washed irises move as if trying to focus, and amidst the stark whiteness, he feels another gaze piercing through him from a tiny hole.

It’s akin to pressing a finger against a foggy window to create a peep hole or blowing breath against a frosted glass to get a glimpse outside.

A gaze.

Not a view from one eye, but a gaze that sees through both eyes settles on Jinseong’s face.

“Strange, isn’t it? Even if one living a dual life encounters contradictory fates that converge, it wouldn’t be as you are.”

“Is that so.”

“This person has no concept of what it is you’re truly seeking. No, it’s impossible.”

How could one glimpse a seeker’s spirit?

Even this aged body, roaming through the spiritual world, could not begin to fathom the essence of another.

How could one comprehend a being that seems to embrace contradiction?

“Yet the seeker’s purpose is often reflected in their actions. Their deeds convey a story.”

Park Jinseong’s narrative unfolded.

He delighted in sorcery, but did not actively seek to wield or experiment with it.

He intended to build connections and grasp power, yet he does not use it beyond mere means.

He possesses a cruel, cold hand, yet demonstrates little resistance in bending it.

Ashtosh could not help but think of Jinseong’s actions.

As if he were a traveler preparing for a long journey, or a climber set to scale a high and perilous mountain, or an ambitious person gearing up for a monumental task.

And for that long trek, a lengthy lifespan is requisite.

Thus, Ashtosh found assurance.

This was surely one of the things he desired.

“Isn’t that so?”

“Hahaha.”

Park Jinseong laughed in response to his words.

“This is amusing. I wonder what convinced you that I would expect death upon going to China… If you could provide a clue, it would truly bring me such joy. Yes, it would indeed!”

“Yes, it would bring you joy…”

Ashtosh echoed Jinseong’s statement, “it would bring joy.”

It would indeed be intriguing, wouldn’t it?

Not gratitude, but “it would bring joy.”

Haha.

“The scales are balanced.”

Yes.

There is no reason not to feel joy when a favorable deal is in the works…

“However, do not be disappointed. As I mentioned about clues, what I know is but trivial.”

“It’s alright. That’s just how clues are, aren’t they?”

“Is that so? Then… fine. First, I must indicate where the clue resides.”

Ashtosh moved his bony arms to stroke his beard.

Then, with his eyes closed, he slowly sought to recall.

The sights he’d seen while exploring the spiritual realm.

He pieced together what he had gathered, assembling them like fragments.

And when he placed that meticulously crafted taste into his mouth,

“Seeker. Matters pertaining to immortality stretch across the globe.”

“Hmm.”

“And,”

Ashtosh recollected the unconsciousness of someone who was nothing short of greedy.

“…what is closest to you is in America.”

Park Jinseong departed.

Unable to contain his joy, he wore a bright smile.

“Haha. Seems the clue resonated well with you…”

That bright grin resembled the smile of a ship’s captain spotting the North Star while lost at sea…

Ah.

“Yet, that is not the true aim. It is merely a means to an end…”

From Ashtosh’s perspective, that joy was not one of fulfillment of aim.

It was the expression of having acquired an excellent tool to achieve one’s goal.

To clarify, it’s as if a blacksmith, wishing to craft a ‘work that would go down in history’, discovered the location of a superb hammer that could be manipulated like molding wet clay…

“Seeker, seeker. What is it that you truly desire…”

Ashtosh sighed, pondering Park Jinseong.

‘The Forest of Wisdom.’

He recalled a story told by his master long ago.

Somewhere in the world, there lies a forest of wisdom, where at its center, lies a treasure that bestows all knowledge. But reaching that center is so difficult that many wander endlessly in that forest, and those who wander too long risk becoming monsters, rather than people.

After hearing that tale, Ashtosh asked his master,

“Master. Why is the forest named the Forest of Wisdom and not the Forest of Knowledge?”

To which his master replied,

“Knowledge without wisdom creates only monsters; one must gain wisdom to acquire knowledge.”

But is that truly the case?

Was it merely a lesson proclaiming the need for knowledge and wisdom to coexist?

‘No. Perhaps wisdom lies in avoiding wandering through that forest; hence its name is the Forest of Wisdom.’

The wise would not covet futile knowledge nor lose their way.

The wise do not crave, do not wander, and perhaps they do not even approach that forest at all.

Thus, the forest may indeed bear that name.

Then what about himself?

And what about Park Jinseong, who just received clues about immortality?

‘Haha. Those fixated on a singular goal, obsessed with their aims, are foolish and dull.’

We are truly without wisdom.

But what can be done?

It has already been this way.

Enchanted by that dazzling light…

‘Flame. Or something akin to, or close to the flame.’

That is why he sent Park Jinseong away.

An entity unperturbed by the sight of blood, unfazed by using human life as a means to craft tools for his journey.

More dangerous and powerful than other shamans.

Perhaps even more twisted— or closer to the essence of a shaman than they are.

‘Although it would surely flow less blood. That is just.’

Yet he firmly believed it was the right choice, a path beneficial to him.

Ashtosh slowly closed his eyes.

Lighting a flame rising from within his heart as a lantern.

To once more explore the mind.

To see, feel, and experience the precious before the number of people dwindled…

 

---