---
The moon hung high over the Wailing Bamboo Forest, its silver light filtering through the swaying stalks. The air shimmered faintly with qi, and every breath Tae-hyun took felt sharp and cold.
He had pushed himself for hours after the trial with the Corrupt Beast. His body still bore the bruises, but something within had changed. He could feel it—not just the growth of power, but a kind of clarity. A storm had passed, but its thunder still echoed in his bones.
"You're not from here," said a voice.
Tae-hyun froze.
From the shadows emerged a tall man clad in flowing grey robes embroidered with cloud motifs. His long black hair was tied back, and his eyes were sharp—too sharp. He radiated cultivation, but it wasn't just pressure. It was refined, ancient.
Tae-hyun straightened, keeping his hand close to his dagger.
"I didn't expect you to awaken the core so soon," the man said, his gaze analyzing Tae-hyun like a puzzle piece. "Tell me, what is your name?"
"…Tae-hyun," he replied cautiously.
"No surname?" the man asked.
"I had one once. It doesn't matter now."
The man's smile was thin. "Names carry weight in this world. Without one, you'll be dismissed—or devoured."
He stepped forward. "I am Elder Wu of the Floating Cloud Sect. I felt the shockwave when you awakened. That much energy doesn't go unnoticed."
Tae-hyun's mind raced. A sect. A real sect. A potential source of answers—or danger.
"Come with me," Elder Wu said. "You're unrefined, but not unskilled. We'll train you. Shape your strength. Or," he added, eyes gleaming, "you'll be crushed by the next beast that comes for your life."
Tae-hyun hesitated. The system inside him pulsed softly, as if watching.
> [System Prompt: A pivotal choice is before you. Join the sect or continue wandering. Choose.]
"What do you want from me?" Tae-hyun asked. "Why help me?"
"Because the heavens are shifting," Wu said. "And when a storm is coming, you either gather strength under a banner… or you get swept away."
Tae-hyun looked to the sky, then at his bruised fists.
He remembered his monologue from before: Freedom is forged, not given. The weak dream of it. The powerful live it.
He exhaled slowly. "Fine. I'll go with you. But I don't follow blindly."
Elder Wu chuckled. "Good. The Floating Cloud Sect has enough sheep. We could use a wolf."
As they walked through the bamboo, Tae-hyun felt something new brewing inside him.
Not just power. Not just survival.
Purpose.
---
---
The campfire crackled softly beneath a canopy of stars. Shadows danced along the trees as silence stretched between them—thick, heavy. Yul sat with her knees drawn to her chest, her eyes fixed on the flames.
Tae-hyun sat opposite her, sharpening one of his daggers with slow, deliberate strokes.
Yul broke the silence first.
"You trust too easily," she said, her voice low. "That's going to get you killed."
Tae-hyun didn't look up. "You think trust is weakness?"
"I think trusting someone with your life is surrendering your most primal instinct—self-preservation. You're handing control to someone else and hoping they won't fumble it. That's not strength. That's recklessness."
He stopped sharpening. "Or maybe it's knowing when you can't survive alone."
Yul scoffed. "We're cultivators. We don't get the luxury of depending on others. People are fallible—scared, selfish, uncertain. Trusting them is like standing on a rotting bridge and pretending it won't collapse."
Tae-hyun met her gaze. Calm. Steady. "That's where you're wrong. Trust isn't about pretending it won't collapse. It's about stepping forward knowing it might—and doing it anyway."
"You're saying we should just leap blindly?"
"No," he said, setting the blade aside. "I'm saying trust exists between reason and faith. Reason tells you all the ways people might fail. Faith accepts that... and still chooses to believe. Not because it's safe. But because sometimes, it's necessary."
Yul's eyes flickered. "Necessary?"
"We're born into interdependence," he said quietly. "Whether we like it or not. You think strength is being self-sufficient, but the truth is—the world's too complex to face alone. There will be moments where your skill, your power, your will... won't be enough. And when that moment comes, you'll have to trust. Not because you want to. But because there's no other way."
She didn't answer for a long time. The fire crackled, casting flickers of light on her sharp, thoughtful expression.
"And if they betray you?" she asked at last.
"Then I survive the fall," Tae-hyun said. "But I'll never stop believing in the possibility of shared strength. That, together, we might become something greater."
Silence fell again—but this time, it was gentler. Not agreement, perhaps, but understanding.
And maybe, just maybe, the first thread of trust.
---