Guangdu descended slowly from the crest of Woonrak Falls, his figure shrouded in rising mist, as if borne on clouds. With a practiced flourish, he landed gracefully at the base and immediately opened his arms to receive the small dog that leapt into them with uncontainable joy.
"There, there… My sweet Bitkong," he murmured, cradling the creature. "Your papa is a god now."
Bitkong licked his face enthusiastically, tail wagging like mad.
It had been sixteen years.
Sixteen years since Sangwoo had first fled to Mt. Hogok. Sixteen years since he had met the only living thing that had not betrayed him.
Betrayed by Yuaki—that treacherous bastard—Sangwoo had escaped to the mountains, wounded in both body and pride. Who was it that had truly ensured Prince Baram's fall from grace? It was Sangwoo. He had served as a palace eunuch, and it was he who had discovered that the youngest royal concubine had fallen desperately in love with the prince. It was he who advised her to pour those feelings into poetry, hoping to keep her from acting rashly. And it was he who relayed those very writings to Yuaki, thinking it would win him favor.
Yuaki had promised him everything—an estate of his own, honors for his descendants, a life of ease. But once Prince Baram had been exiled, Yuaki began treating Sangwoo like an afterthought.
At first, he had told himself it was caution. After all, Gahn's love for Baram had not yet fully faded, so perhaps Yuaki was simply being discreet. But when Gahn died and the crown prince, now enthroned as Shin Guigan, took power, Sangwoo approached Yuaki boldly.
"You promised me Chooshin Prefecture. You said it would be mine and my family's forever," he had said.
Yuaki smiled, poured him wine, and replied, "You'll have it soon. I'll be summoned to the capital any day now. Once I'm gone, Chooshin will be yours."
But Sangwoo had seen through the lie. He pretended to drink, feigned sleep, and that night—still "asleep" in the guest room—he heard Yuaki call assassins.
He ran.
Day and night, barely stopping to breathe, he fled to Woonrak Falls and hid there, ready to vanish from the world like the spray of water that misted the rocks. When despair nearly consumed him, Bitkong had appeared—starving, trembling, whining. The pup had looked at him as if to say, "Don't disappear yet."
Sangwoo held him and cried until he could cry no more. He caught fish with his bare hands, shared them with Bitkong, and found something like hope.
Bitkong fattened up quickly, and Sangwoo noticed strange changes in himself as well. He could swim longer, dive deeper. His endurance increased. Holding Bitkong, he could run without losing breath. Then he remembered the fish—massive golden carp from the falls. He had eaten several over the weeks.
Soon after, assassins tracked him to Woonrak. Five of them. He killed them all. With his own hands.
He was certain—he had awakened magical powers.
And with those powers came a desire for revenge.
He wanted to kill Yuaki himself, to look him in the eyes and see fear. He traveled toward Chooshin County, but when he reached Hosan Village, his strength suddenly faded. Not physically—he was healthier than he'd ever been—but the power wouldn't come. No magic, no strength, no aura.
Deflated, he made an excuse about missing Bitkong and returned to Woonrak Falls.
Bitkong ran to greet him, tail wagging madly, eyes bright.
But behind Bitkong were men—bandits—carrying cooking tools and spices. They had come to eat the dog.
That's when his power returned.
With a single bound, he rose above them. The bandits fell to their knees.
"A divine one! A holy master!"
And thus, Hojung Teaching was born. The bandits became followers. Their mountain hideout became Hojung Village. And Sangwoo changed his name to Guangdu—a name that sounded worthy of a prophet, a title fit for a god.
He showed them a few "miracles." They brought treasures, livestock, gold. And soon… they brought blind devotion.
Vengeance? What for? This life—feasting, resting, being worshipped—was far better.
Even the boy monk, what was his name? Nogani? Or was it Onani?
Didn't matter.
He offered to bring Guangdu the Golden Maitreya statue—no persuasion needed. A treasure of Hyundo Temple, no less. And Guangdu hadn't needed to lift a finger.
His "cloud descent" technique had grown quite convincing. After a few displays, the people called him Buddha, Immortal, Saint. Called him anything he pleased.
He was clever, too. He knew better than to be caught stealing the statue outright. He had his men pose as bandits, made it look like a theft, and told them to deal with the monk however they saw fit.
It was clean. The Hojung Teaching had no connection to the crime.
Thanks to Woonrak's power—or maybe his own growing magic—even Bitkong hadn't aged a day in sixteen years. Strong. Loyal. Eternal.
In the end, how different was he from Gahn Shingui?
He ruled. He ate well. He schemed. He crushed dissent.
That was the way of rulers.
Wait… is that Nogani? Alive?
That black bundle—could it be? The Golden Maitreya.
Fools. What were those idiots doing?
Well, no matter. He'd just sell it to Baekje now.
The boy would become a zealot anyway. Young men were so easy to win over.
But the one behind him… a friend? A brother?
No matter. After one or two skywalks, he'll be calling me 'Divine', like the rest.