Chapter 735 – The First Wish, Kim Sanghyun (2)
—
– Kim Sanghyun
As the shackles of virtue fell away, my body and spirit felt raw and exposed.
Overwhelmed by unbearable fear and pain, I curled up, and someone offered me a plush fur coat.
A wave of abundant grace washed away the terror and suffering.
In that moment, I dazedly lifted my head and asked, “What in the world is this?”
The response came, not from the sky, but from beside me.
It was as if from now on, rather than a distant ascension, this being was watching over us right here.
“Rejoice. You have been granted the first blessing that all will soon accept.”
A chillingly white figure smiled next to me.
Suddenly, I thought the pure whiteness embodied by the Son of Dawn resembled that of Astear’s.
Maybe Astear had shared a part of that power during his service to the Son of Dawn.
“I… don’t understand what you’re saying right now.”
The pale angel smiled.
To the great one, humanity was foolish yet lovable beings.
“Look.”
“What am I supposed to look at?”
“Understand that virtue is but an illusion. Know that virtue is a shackle. Know that virtue is a deficiency.”
According to the pale angel, human-made virtues were illusions, shackles, and deficiencies.
For that reason, the angel desired to strip humanity of their virtues.
Soon, a massive wave of illusions engulfed the area.
*
The cool breeze blew over the green meadow.
A scarred hunter, gleaming with fierce eyes, set out on his path.
As he moved closer to the traps he had set, a long-anticipated sound reached him.
— Grumble! Oink!
The rough cries of a boar caught in the trap.
The hunter could not hide his smile as he drew a sharp spear.
“Ha!”
In a flash, the lightning-like spear severed the boar’s breath, providing enough meat for a week for him and his family.
After butchering his catch right there, he loaded it onto a cart and headed back to the village.
Soon, people gathered around, their eyes on him.
With a proud expression, the hunter bragged about how perfectly he had placed the trap and how exceptional his spear skills were.
Then, suddenly, the wise instincts of the hunter warned him.
If he continued like this, he would die.
“…”
In the brief silence, the hunter scanned his surroundings.
Anger, jealousy, greed.
Some viewed the hunter’s demeanor as arrogance.
Some envied his outstanding skills.
Some cast greedy glances at his meat.
The hunter was strong.
He could probably handle about three average men.
But ten men would be a challenge, especially since he had a young wife and a newborn at home.
Fortunately, the wise hunter knew how to act in such situations.
Soon, a different kind of talk began to emerge from his lips.
“The meat was a gift from the sky gods, and I’m merely the one skilled enough to have brought it in.”
“Are you curious about where I set my traps? There’s a forest filled with hazelnut trees beyond the western hill, right?”
“There are always beasts there, so if you dig a pit in their path, they’ll surely fall in.”
“Oh, on such a joyous day, how can I eat all this meat alone?”
“I’ll share it with you all, so everyone bring your bags!”
He exhibited humility.
He showed kindness.
He practiced charity.
Soon, the shaman loudly praised the hunter.
The jealous warriors were moved by the hunter’s kindness.
The starving would-be raiders bowed their heads to the hunter as they received a piece of meat.
Thus, humility, kindness, and charity were not noble virtues.
They were choices made for survival.
…
As time passed, there was no mercy in the flow of the years, and even the competent hunter began to grow dull.
At some point, he developed a great worry—it was about his wife.
The hunter had aged and grown weak, unlike her, who was still young and beautiful.
One day, while selling deer hides in the village, he heard strange tales.
There was a young hunter, skilled with a bow, who was said to have his eyes on the hunter’s wife.
He tried not to believe it, but once the seed of doubt was planted, every action seemed suspicious.
Whenever the young hunter passed near his home, his gaze would sharpen, and when he heard that his wife was going out, his grip would tighten.
Doubt turned into conviction.
Conviction transformed into rage.
Rage morphed into revenge.
Like a beast, he burst into the young hunter’s house, and chaos erupted in an instant.
Profanities exchanged mercilessly.
The deadly sharpness of a gleaming spear and the terrifying flight of arrows.
At one point, the old hunter realized.
Could a worn-out man like me defeat that young buck?
The fear of death suppressed his anger, and he called it endurance.
…
As he was enduring his anger, the old hunter suddenly realized.
His trembling hand was mirrored in the young man’s shaky fingers.
The fear contained in his eyes reflected in the young man’s gaze as well.
Yes.
While the old hunter hesitated to fight the young man, the young man also hesitated to fight him.
Fear.
Scared.
Not wanting to die.
Then, a priest appeared.
In the dawn of civilization, priests were judges, intellectuals, and historians.
The priest of the sky god contemplated.
The skills of the old hunter still shone, and he had many teachings to offer to the younger hunters.
The young hunter would bring countless boars and deer to the village in the future.
They couldn’t afford to lose either of them.
They had to stop the clash without sacrifice.
What needed to be done?
The priest thought that the issue started from the young wife’s interactions with the young hunter.
So the priest boldly declared in front of everyone.
The sky god decreed that purity is a virtue.
Therefore, the young woman should not step outside and must keep her distance from strange men.
Those who lack purity will incur the wrath of the sky god.
From suspicions about a spouse, the virtue of purity was born.
…
Years passed, the old hunter died, and the young hunter started a family.
Then one day, when the nights got longer and a snowstorm began to swirl—
— Aaaah!
The hunter’s children cried incessantly, begging for food.
They pointed to the grains on the shelf and pleaded for porridge made from it.
The hunter yelled, scolding his children.
He warned that if they touched the shelf, it would break their shins.
It wasn’t because the hunter was cruel or sadistic.
The grains on the shelf were seeds for the next year’s harvest.
After an entire day of starving, the hunter too was hungry.
He wanted nothing more than to cook the seeds on that shelf immediately.
But if they ate the seeds, there would be nothing left to plant in the garden come spring.
There wasn’t enough food.
That had always been the way of life for the hunter.
Thus, he could only teach his children via punishment to practice restraint.
The virtue of restraint was born from poverty.
…
Even restraining from hunger has its limits.
On a chilly winter night, the hunter finally cooked the last seeds he had been saving.
He didn’t give a single spoonful to his wife or children.
He swallowed it all himself.
Because sharing it would only leave one person satisfied.
So, the hunter had to eat it all.
After all, he was intending to scale the winter mountain from then on.
The blizzard roared on.
His fingertips grew numb, and frost formed on his eyebrows.
He could feel nothing in his feet.
The hunter thought that no matter how successful his hunt was, he’d probably lose a few toes.
However, the hunter silently climbed the winter mountain.
He thought of his wife.
He recalled the moment, twelve years ago, when he had first met her while learning where to set traps, a moment filled with emotion.
Time has shown no mercy to her either, but she was still as lovely as ever.
He thought of his children.
Two were the old hunter’s, and the other two were his.
No, there were no distinctions among his children; they were all his.
That was the reason the hunter lived in this world.
Thus, the hunter had to climb the winter mountain.
Even if his fingers fell off and his skin froze, he needed to catch a wild boar today.
He endured the pain and never stopped for a moment.
To conquer the trials of winter, he had to be diligent.
— Fwoosh!
*
When the visions ended, I felt my identity teetering on the edge.
I couldn’t tell if I was the old hunter, the young hunter, or just Kim Sanghyun dreaming about both.
It was only a moment of confusion.
Soon, the pale shining angel looked at me.
“Do you understand now?”
“…”
“Virtue is an illusion. It is a shackle and a deficiency. It is not a noble value. It exists merely because the world is troubled, so you have crafted illusions to endure that pain.”
At that moment, I noticed tears like pearls flowing from the angel’s eyes.
He truly loved humanity.
That’s why he sorrowfully regarded the shackles of virtue humans created to endure their miserable lives.
“You need not fear your kin, so humility, charity, and kindness become unnecessary. If there’s no death for you to fight against, what need is there for patience and purity? If food is always plentiful, what meaning is there in moderation and diligence?”
I was bewildered.
I had never imagined that human morals could look so trivial in the eyes of a great being.
“And so, I wish to save you. I shall free you from your fears. Thus, the masks of humility, charity, and kindness are unnecessary. Death shall be erased from human vocabulary. Thus, you will no longer need to hide your natural emotions. You will never suffer hunger again. So, eat your fill and play to your heart’s content.”
In that moment, I truly understood the Bureau and its agents.
The Son of Dawn was a god.
He was the savior who descended from the heavens for suffering humanity.
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