Chapter 5: I became a teacher

Lately, the relentless training that once consumed my days from dawn till dusk had been split into two distinct sessions.

The reason for this change… would soon become apparent.

Ah, there he was.

“Master, it’s time for your meal.”

“Have I not already told you that I have no need for meals?”

I retorted, my brow furrowed in protest.

Yet, a counter-argument was immediately launched, and in the most inconvenient form imaginable.

“Did Master not tell me that one must eat heartily for training to proceed effectively?”

“…”

As those very words had come from my own mouth, there was no retracting them.

With a soft sigh, I allowed myself to be led by him towards the small hut.

“Are you sighing again, Master? Did you not once say that sighs would chase away good fortune?”

“…”

How had things come to such a pass?

A sudden thought sparked a memory, pulling me back to three years prior.

To disabuse the child who had mistaken me for a witch, I had demonstrated my swordsmanship.

The child, gazing at me with a somewhat dazed expression, had inquired about my identity, and seeing no reason to withhold, I had simply offered my name.

‘Hmm, up to this point, there seemed to be no issue.’

Afterward, swept away by an inexplicable impulse, I had divulged my ambition, though it hadn’t even been inquired about.

The small child, observing me, had inexplicably brightened their eyes, displaying a newfound resolve before them.

They had immediately prostrated themselves on the ground and uttered these words:

“Would you be willing to accept me as your disciple?”

Upon hearing those words, I lowered my gaze to the child, who remained prostrated on the earthen ground, their head slightly raised, their eyes fixed on me, utterly still.

Just like me, they possessed deep black hair and eyes the color of thick, dark blood—a rich, crimson hue.

Though I couldn’t ascertain their precise age, their small physique and youthful features suggested a child no older than a lower elementary school student.

Yet, their exquisite handsomeness was such that I surmised they would one day break many a heart.

If this place truly existed within the pages of a novel, then this child was undeniably a protagonist.

Indeed, they might even be the very hero of this world.

Having reached that conclusion, I prepared to refuse.

For it was a burden far too weighty for me to bear.

As you well know, I was perpetually afraid of how my actions might ripple through time and affect the future.

I was a coward, incapable of acting rashly.

And assuming this was indeed a world within a novel, I was clearly an outsider, yet so utterly ignorant that I had failed to ascertain its true nature even after years of residing within it.

Could such a one as I ever hope to become a master, a parent, or even an entire world to another?

‘Utter nonsense.’

I knew my limitations.

Despite harboring the grand ambition of cleaving the very heavens,

I was merely a braggart, whose grandiose pronouncements were confined to this narrow, isolated mountain, without even a thought of ever venturing beyond it.

I was not virtuous enough to display the humanistic qualities of a righteous protagonist, as so often depicted.

Nor was I wicked enough to harm others in pursuit of my own objectives, as some protagonists might.

I was merely a coward, a simpleton.

What help could I, such a person, possibly offer this boy, who might well be the protagonist of this very novel,

Or one burdened with a destiny so momentous that he was fated to ally with the protagonist to safeguard the world?

What aid could I possibly render? Surely, I would only be a detrimental influence.

Having concluded my deliberation, I conveyed my refusal.

“I am truly sorry.”

The child, their expression utterly forlorn, gazed up at me and spoke.

“Could you… tell me the reason?”

Being a coward, I couldn’t even bring myself to explain the reason, fearing that merely exposing my selfish underlying motives would cast a detrimental shadow upon this child.

To impart words you couldn’t possibly comprehend, simply because you might be a main character…

I, a coward, was utterly incapable of such a thing.

“I am truly sorry,” I reiterated.

In that state, I turned to retreat to my dwelling, but

From behind me, the very protagonist of this novel, the child, continued to speak.

“Please, I beg of you… I will undertake all the arduous tasks myself…”

The child, as if acutely aware of their own shortcomings, bit their lip so fiercely that it seemed on the verge of drawing blood.

“I vow not to become an impediment on your path as you strive toward your ultimate goal, Cheon Harang-nim…”

Tears welled in the child’s eyes, as if in furious resentment of their own helplessness, of being but a mere child incapable of anything.

“Though… I, who possess nothing but this stubborn will, can offer you nothing of immediate value at this very moment…”

The child paused, as if to steady their breath, before continuing.

And then, with a force that threatened to draw blood from their forehead, they struck their head against the ground, declaring:

“Please… I implore you, bestow your mercy upon me…”

I gazed upon the child, who, with tears streaming down their face, continued to plead for mercy.

A sudden question welled within me, and I voiced it.

“Why, of all people, me?”

“Because the aspiration you possess, Cheon Harang-nim, closely aligns with my own.”

Unlike my own ambition, which seemed to exist only in my boasts, perhaps this child truly possessed the capacity to achieve theirs.

“To cleave the heavens? Very well, then, tell me, why do you harbor such a formidable ambition?”

This still-young child continued their tale, as if pouring forth the pent-up resentment of their life thus far.

“I am…”

And so, I came to hear the poignant tale of this young child, a story that had led them to this remote corner of the mountains.

It was a narrative no child of such tender years should ever have endured.

As the child’s words unfolded, my eyes widened, filled with dawning horror.

By the time the narrative reached its conclusion, I had closed my eyes, lost in thought.

I was still a coward, still a simpleton.

I could not become this child’s master; I could not become this child’s parent.

I could not become the entire world for this child, burdened as they were with such a heavy destiny.

However, even if I was not destined to be the protagonist of this tale,

Could I not, perhaps, be a supporting character, making but a brief appearance in the grand narrative of this child’s fate?

This child who had endured such a pitiable life, this child who bore such a heavy destiny—

Could I not, at the very least, offer them a brief respite, a moment to breathe freely?

I was not virtuous enough to sacrifice myself to save the world,

But neither was I wicked enough to cast away this small, pitiable child who had endured such a wretched existence.

Thus, I acquiesced to the child’s earnest plea.

I simply prayed that my presence would not become a detrimental influence upon this child.

And that my existence might serve as but a temporary waystation, a brief pause in the journey of this child’s life.

This was my sole wish.

I ceased my contemplation of that day, which had, in its own way, become a turning point in my life.

Opening my closed eyes, I found myself gazing at Moomyung, who was carefully placing a portion of namul (TL Note: A Korean side dish made of seasoned vegetables.) onto my spoon.

Cheon Moomyung, that was the name I had given him.

Three years prior, when I had inquired about his name,

He had expressed a desire to bury his former name within these mountains, so I had bestowed a new one upon him.

In truth, it held no profound meaning.

As master and disciple were akin to parent and child, I had granted him my surname.

And since he was now without a name, he was Moomyung (TL Note: A Korean word meaning ‘nameless’ or ‘obscure’.).

And yet…

Honestly, I found it to be quite a striking name.

‘I should have claimed that name for myself.’

After all, Moomyung? Did it not sound like the moniker of a hidden, reclusive master?

The name of a benevolent savior who would rescue those in peril, only to vanish without even revealing their identity.

Though it was a name I had personally bestowed, I found myself inexplicably envious.

Tsk.

As I let out a soft click of my tongue, Moomyung subtly glanced at me, as if sensing my mood.

‘That insolent boy… Hmph!’

Of course, I didn’t voice my thoughts aloud, merely pouted my lips and indulged in the fantasy of reprimanding him.

He hadn’t always been such a mischievous child…

While a close bond between master and disciple was desirable.

‘This, however…’

I thought otherwise.

‘My authority had plummeted to rock bottom…’

For the initial few months, he had followed me diligently, expressing nothing but profound respect.

But after living together, he seemed to have discerned my true nature, acting with such insolence that it made me wonder if he was, indeed, a male protagonist.

Nonetheless, seeing him care for me in such a manner, he likely didn’t harbor any ill will.

At least, I hoped not.

Indeed, after accepting this boy as my disciple, many facets of my life had considerably improved.

As I never contemplated descending the mountain to visit the nearby villages,

Moomyung, seemingly perplexed by this, had once inquired of me:

“Master, why do you choose to remain solely within the mountains?”

And to that, to my disciple,

I couldn’t very well confess, “Because I am afraid.”

So I simply averted my gaze in silence.

He, in turn, let out a sigh, then proceeded to skin a hunted animal before departing with a declaration that he would visit the village.

He would invariably return with various conveniences, such as spoons and blankets.

Thanks to his efforts, my quality of life had improved to an astonishing degree of comfort.

‘Hmm, when viewed through this lens, even his impudent behavior possesses a certain degree of excusability.’

Nodding subtly to myself, having reached this solitary conclusion,

Moomyung, as if accustomed to my quirks, naturally disregarded my actions and continued with his meal.

After our meal, I observed Moomyung as he washed the dishes.

‘When had he grown so tall?’

Though only three years had certainly passed, Moomyung, now sixteen, stood a full head taller than I.

Consequently, whenever we stood face to face, I found myself looking up at him.

And each time, I would feel an unwarranted sense of injustice at having been transformed into a woman.

‘Given that this body’s height was in the low 150s, had that boy truly surpassed 170 centimeters at merely sixteen years of age?’

A pang of bitter resentment twisted in my gut.

When I had been a man, my height had been in the 160s,

But upon becoming a woman, I had, regrettably, grown even shorter.

‘Damn it…’

Even if my stunted growth in childhood was attributable to poor nourishment,

Had he not grown far too suddenly within the span of merely three years?

Soon, the difference would likely exceed a full head.

‘My dignity as a Master…!’

It was on the verge of crumbling entirely.

“Moomyung,” I called.

Moomyung, who had been diligently washing the dishes, set them aside at my summons and turned his gaze upon me.

“Yes, Master?”

“Do stop growing so tall.”

“Pardon?”

Tsk, he could have at least humored me with a simple affirmation,

Yet, he merely furrowed his brow sharply, as if something deeply displeased him.

“It is nothing.”

“Yes, Master,” he replied.

Moomyung offered a light affirmation and resumed cleaning the dishes.

It was, in essence, just another peaceful day in our lives.