Chapter 617
Kenneth posed a question to Jinseong.
“Offer your most precious thing.”
That answer was one befitting ancient peoples.
“Return your most precious thing.”
Truly, it was a faithful statement.
“By sacrificing your most precious thing, be grateful for everything.”
How could one refute such faithfulness?
“Be grateful for everything. From the trivial to the precious, feel gratitude for all. Experience happiness and feel life. In doing so, humble yourself to everything.”
So, offer it.
“What is your most precious thing? What is that which makes you, you?”
Prepare to offer it.
“Have you thought of it? Have you recalled your most precious thing? From the memory of feeling happiness after taking a sip of water while wandering in the desert to the memory of picking up a kernel of corn that fell to the ground. Have you reminisced about life and thought of your most precious thing among all of that? Have you remembered the most valuable thing you possess that exists, not as a concept or an idea? Have you recalled something precious, and are you ready to offer it? Are you truly ready to give it up?”
“….”
“The most precious thing is irreplaceable. Just as a sip of water while sifting through sand under scorching sunlight cannot be substituted, that feeling of biting into a fruit discovered after suffering from hunger in a stifling jungle is invaluable. Do you remember?”
“….”
“Have you walked on high mountains? Have you felt the cold air clinging to your skin as you ascend? Have you realized the worth of a single layer of cloth that protects you from that chill? Have you felt the texture of the earth at your feet, the sensation of walking on a stone surface that would harm no part of you? As you hike upward, with a kernel of corn in your mouth, did you savor that sip of water after sweating profusely? Have you reached the peak, feeling that small happiness? Step by step, climbing through the cold and humid clouds until you finally hit the summit. Have you ever cried tears of joy at that breathtaking view and the warm sunshine pouring down upon you? Have you ever captured that moment with your own eyes?”
Even if you haven’t experienced it, it’s okay.
As long as you have called that scenery to mind.
If you’ve indirectly experienced that, and now have that peak scenery in your mind…
“Make the offering. Yourself!”
You must have truly realized what is precious!
Puff!
Now, with the obsidian dagger plunged into your belly, make your offering!
* * *
“Hahaha….”
Kenneth laughed.
He laughed at the pain in his belly, at that chilling sensation running down his spine.
The sharply broken obsidian dagger was lodged in his stomach, and his muscles contracted to expel that foreign object. Blood, trying to ooze from the severed vessels, was held back instinctively—not wanting to spurt out, instead oozing slowly.
Yet that only heightened his awareness of the dagger buried in his belly.
Thus, the movements of his wanting body and the pain made him feel alive.
Is life described as pain?
Is living but an endless sequence of suffering?
Conversely, one might say pain is life.
If so, it wouldn’t be strange for Kenneth to feel his life so vividly now.
It’s truly a paradox.
With the obsidian dagger lodged in his belly and bruises all over his body.
Even bound to a sled, marking the start of a countdown to death.
“Hahaha….”
Where there is bright light, shadows also grow darker.
In deep darkness, a single light feels brighter than the sun; just so, the sensations he felt were akin.
Facing death, the reality of being alive and an intense sensation of life began to awaken. Furthermore, his brain, which had been malfunctioning, seemed to recognize the crisis, spinning in a surge, conjuring countless ways to escape this state.
Even in that moment, growing chilly and dazed from the pain and blood loss.
He blinked.
With blurred senses from the pain, his vision became clear.
It felt as if he had cast a spell upon his eyes, able to see far into the distance.
Far away, in the sky, there was a star…
No. It’s not a star.
That is a man-made object shot up by human hands, carved by human hands.
That is a satellite pretending to be a star.
It is gazing at him.
He realized his eyes met the lens of that satellite.
Kenneth looked at the satellite, and the satellite looked back at Kenneth.
That gaze was transparent and inorganic, reminiscent of a frozen winter lake.
That gaze would be converted into electrical signals and capture him on video, recording his final moments.
Thus, would it also document the shaman who would take his life?
Would it record the being that whispered sweet words, promising to fulfill its purpose while dragging him toward sacrifice? Each of those words felt sweeter than any demon’s, making him contemplate the beasts of hell—even that strange entity, veiled in the skin of a young shaman, which wandered into his life uninvited.
No.
Is that even possible?
“….”
Kenneth quietly gazed at Jinseong.
Jinseong was also looking at Kenneth.
Their eyes intertwined.
As that happened, the flame within Jinseong’s gaze began to move slowly.
Fluttering and dancing, the sparks flaring up and rising.
It spread like wings unfurling, shooting towards the sky as if dandelion seeds were sown, pouring down like a waterfall. It spiraled upward furiously and circled around like planets in motion.
And with each movement, the surrounding energy of that shaman shimmered subtly in response…
“You will not be recorded.”
“Indeed.”
Kenneth understood that the shaman was weaving magic to avoid being captured by the satellite.
“Flame-like one, do you know the mirror?”
“….”
“In the East and West, it is said to beware of what is not reflected in the mirror and what reflects differently….”
“….”
“Do you know the being that can only step inside a house with permission from the master? A being that cannot cross flowing water while fearing the symbol of the master and does not reflect its own image in the mirror?”
“….”
“Do you know the existence unseen in reality? One that cannot be seen with two eyes but is mirrored in the glass? That being exists between reality and unreality, and only the mirror can warn about it; do you know that being?”
“….”
“You are…you are like that.”
“….”
“Though fire, you do not emit light, and you consume like fire. Yet if that does not reflect in the mirror nor is recorded, then what are you?”
“….”
“Hahaha….”
Kenneth looked at Jinseong and smiled.
“You are neither confirmed nor recognized, yet you seek to savor the fruits and devour the sweetest parts. Ah, you are no different than the bug in my belly. You fatten yourself without being noticed. How could this be called a beast? You are truly akin to that. You are fire, yet a fire within your own body….”
What emotions are contained in those words?
Is it goodwill towards Jinseong, who promised to fulfill his purpose?
Or is it resentment towards the one who would lead him to death?
A cold evaluation of the shaman who brought about his current state?
Or perhaps fear of the true essence of that shaman?
He doesn’t know.
He can’t know.
Emotions are like paint.
Once mixed into black, how can one discern what colors were combined to produce black?
Kenneth’s ramblings too were like black paint, filled with countless emotions but become indistinguishable once mixed, encapsulating how exactly they were.
Therefore, Kenneth closed his eyes after leaving those words behind.
Then, as if resigned, he let out a long sigh and began to chant the invocation.
It was the invocation Jinseong had shared with him after plunging the obsidian dagger into his belly.
“In the east of Mauna Kea, there exists the most beautiful goddess, her beauty resembling that of the eye, and as I took steps to pay my respects, I said, ‘O most beautiful goddess, I have heard tales that I have made this journey, knowing that the most beautiful goddess possesses extraordinary skills in lava sledding just as she does in appearance. Therefore, do not refuse the traveler who has come a long way to witness your abilities; let us have a match.’ Alas, I could not carry a heavy burden to travel far, so Poliah should have compassion and provide a sled, its length equal to the height of two people and the width matching the span from wrist to fingertip, making it perfectly suitable for a sled race….”
The invocation flows forth.
The words spill from Kenneth, the one bound to the sled.
That spectacle was a blend of resignation and resolve.
Ah, how pleasing it was for Jinseong to see.
Truly delightful…
