Still, if he takes this many elixirs so early, his internal energies could clash and backfire… I’ll mix small amounts into meals so he absorbs them gradually. My kids aren’t picky, and this amount should last for years. Then I’ll teach Cheon-oh breathing and circulation first…

They say the greatest joys of raising a child are dreaming about what they’ll become, and the overwhelming reward of witnessing the smallest moments of growth.

Currently indulging in the former, Cho Yoon’s steps felt feather-light. Despite the torrential rain soaking his hair and robes to the bone, he didn’t feel even the slightest irritation.

It didn’t take him long to cross the mountain from Mount Cheongwe back to Mount Dumang. But as he neared the Estate of Deep Mists, the voices drifting to his ears, even without trying to listen, made his expression harden at once.

“…It’s my responsibility, so I’ll go! You stay here. Do not follow me!”

“B-but Noona! You c-can’t go right now. It’s pouring rain…!”

“…He has that too, so nothing bad will happen. I said I’m going to look for him, so stop whining! What if Master comes back and…!”

“What if I come back?”

Landing soundlessly in the courtyard of the Estate of Deep Mists, Cho Yoon spoke. The two children, who had been gripping each other’s clothes in a heated argument, froze and stared at him like kids caught doing something terrible.

Looking at the siblings’ deathly pale faces, Cho Yoon repeated himself.

“What if I come back? Finish your sentence.”

“M-Master…”

Whatever they’d done, it was no excuse to leave children standing in a downpour like this. Taking the two drenched siblings by the arms, Cho Yoon ushered them into his room to escape the rain.

And exactly as he’d sensed from outside, the person who should have been there was nowhere to be seen.

Swallowing down his rising anxiety, Cho Yoon set his sack on the floor and pulled out a few folded, dry towels.

“Where is Cheon-oh?”

“T-that’s…”

Sa-hyeon hung his head, fidgeting with his clasped hands and darting his eyes away in guilt. His inability to answer suggested a reason compelling enough to hide the truth. But Sa-yeong, looking like a drowned rat, quickly stepped in front of her brother.

“I left him at the waterfall. I thought he’d follow right behind us, but he still hasn’t come back, so I was just about to go look for him.”

“…You left him at the waterfall?”

“…He couldn’t catch a single fish on his own. So Sa-hyeon and I came back first. He said he knew the way back, so I thought it would be fine.”

Sa-yeong spoke clearly and firmly, like a child bracing for a scolding. Grasping the sequence of events, Cho Yoon prayed he wasn’t visibly frowning. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut again.

What was he supposed to say? I trusted you? I’m disappointed in you? You’re the oldest, yet you can’t even look after your little brother?

No.

Sa-yeong was only eleven.

And it was obvious she still harbored resentment over the incident the other day. It was his fault for knowing that and still expecting a young child to look after an even younger one. His fault for leaving these emotionally unsteady kids alone for so long.

“Take off your wet clothes and use these to dry your bodies and hair. Then put on a fresh change of clothes and wait here quietly. Do not step outside, no matter what. Catching a cold in this weather would be disastrous.”

They also say that when a second or third child is born, the oldest suddenly seems all grown up, no matter how young they really are.

I have so many years left to raise them. What am I going to do if I’m already making mistakes like this? With a self-deprecating sigh, Cho Yoon handed the towels to the children and turned to the door.

“Did you hear me? Do not step outside. We’ll discuss the rest when I return, so light the brazier… no. Don’t touch the fire recklessly. Just wrap yourselves in your quilts.”

Without waiting for their reply, he launched himself outside. He could feel their gazes clinging to his back from the rapidly receding estate, but he had no time to spare. Cho Yoon’s mind was consumed by a single, terrifying thought.

What if he’s hurt?

His heart hammered.

First, he sprinted straight for the waterfall where the children said they’d been. The torrential rain battered his cheeks and body like iron beads. The tempered body of a martial artist let him blitz across the slick, treacherous mountain paths at unbelievable speed, yet in this moment he felt agonizingly slow.

Being alone in the mountains was dangerous enough, but where were they?

This was the Point of No Return Mountain Range, infamous as a gathering ground for all manner of demonic beasts and evil spirits.

Jaw clenched, he finally reached the waterfall. The deafening roar of the swollen river crashing into the muddy pond drowned out everything else. He found the remains of an extinguished campfire and discarded fish bones scattered on the ground, but there was no sign of the child.

In that instant, Cho Yoon felt as though his mind had been wiped blank. He froze.

He’s not here. I lost him.

Fragments of a buried past rose like a tidal wave, crashing over him. Lifting a pale, shaking hand to his mouth, he bit down hard on his fingernails. His entire body trembled so violently it was almost pathetic.

No. Snap out of it. A seven-year-old can’t have gone far. I can find him.

The only reason his rationality returned so quickly was the immense mental fortitude cultivated by the profound master, Cho Yoon.

He slapped both cheeks hard enough to sting, then closed his eyes.

Now that it had come to this, he had to trust his abilities and focus.

Finding Sa-yeong and Sa-hyeon had been relatively easy. They cultivated internal energy using the same mental techniques as Cho Yoon, giving them similar signatures. But Cheon-oh was different.

Having learned nothing yet, Cheon-oh possessed only the meager internal energy of an ordinary seven-year-old boy. Finding such a child in the Point of No Return Mountain Range, where even the trees held mystical energy, was like searching for a needle in a haystack.

Ultimately, his only option was to focus to the absolute limit, honing his senses until he could detect even a single crawling insect. The torrential rain and the roaring waterfall smothered every other sound, but that only sharpened his remaining senses.

I can do this. I have to believe I can do this.

The Profound Realm was a state beyond even the pinnacle of martial arts, often described as stepping into divinity. Even if he was only borrowing this body, in this moment he had to truly become Cho Yoon.

Internal energy, crisp with the refreshing aura of the mountains, began to swirl in his danjeon, surging through his meridians. It flowed fiercely, filling the delicate acupoints in his head where the senses converged.

His qi-sense spread beneath his feet like a finely woven net. The vibrant pulse of life, awakened by the long-awaited rain, transmitted vividly to his mind.

Systematically verifying and eliminating the presence of every living creature, Cho Yoon rapidly expanded his search. Before long, his senses snagged on an energy signature that made him think, Is this it? But the moment his expanded awareness detected what lurked beside that faint presence, his eyes snapped open in horror.

Before his mind could form a thought, his body had already launched itself down the mountain path.

Oh, my god!

***

Crouching just inside the mouth of the earthen cave, Cheon-oh stared blankly at the rain pouring down in sheets. When he realized he could barely feel his fingertips, he looked down. His red, numb hands were caked in mud and rainwater. Fresh cuts had split open over hard-earned scabs, seeping faint traces of blood.

He scrubbed his hands absently against his soaked clothes and looked back outside.

Just beyond the cave’s small ledge, the terrain dropped into a perilously steep slope. It was a miracle he’d snagged on a tree when he fell from above. If he’d kept tumbling, he would have died, or at least suffered a fatal injury.

The lush, towering trees standing silent in the pouring rain looked as grim and ominous as tombstones.

Just this morning, they had seemed like beautiful parts of the mountain scenery.

Now, huddled alone in a frail, injured body, he couldn’t comprehend how he’d ever seen them that way.

As the sun fully set, his plummeting body temperature triggered violent, uncontrollable shivering. Crawling deeper into the cave, he wrapped his arms tight around himself. His hands and feet no longer felt cold. They felt burning hot.

A localized, feverish heat radiated from his swollen, throbbing ankle.

With that ankle, he didn’t even dare try to stand, much less put weight on it. Even if he managed to leave the cave, he would have to spend hours dragging himself up the slope, clinging desperately to tree roots and jutting rocks. Waiting here until the weather cleared was the most logical choice.

Will he come?

He’ll come. The answer sprang to his mind before he could consciously form the thought.

When?

If I just wait a little longer. So… maybe if I count numbers, he’ll come.

No. He didn’t want to count. Just thinking about it made it feel as though spiders were crawling down his spine. The space around him felt suffocatingly tight, utterly devoid of light, and he could almost hear crows cawing in his ears.

In the end, all a young child left alone in a desolate, silent place could do was think. Naturally, Cheon-oh found himself retracing the sequence of events that had led him here.

How did this happen?

What should he have done differently?

—Therefore, do not even entertain the thought of wandering out here alone.

His master had told him that not long ago.

He’d heard that demonic beasts and monsters roamed freely, but today was the first time he’d ever seen one in the flesh. And since his master had said he cast formations around the estate, that had to be what kept them away.

If so, the deer beast was powerful enough to tear through those formations and intrude. Considering how his sense of self had been crushed the moment he locked eyes with it, it certainly had the power.

And since it hadn’t shown itself while the siblings were present, only appearing at the waterfall the moment he was left alone, perhaps the siblings had some sort of preventative measure against it.

After all, they had lived with their master far longer than he had, and his master was a deeply considerate, meticulous person.