The Path to Becoming a God
"Look at them — trembling in terror, every last one."
Virudhaka sat in his palanquin and sneered at the soldiers of the Shakya Kingdom, who were steeling themselves for what was to come.
Two years ago, he had ridden out half as a pleasure trip to his mother's homeland — and suffered a humiliation he never saw coming. He had ground his teeth over that disgrace ever since, driving himself through relentless martial training. He had raised more troops. He had overhauled the military system. At the very least, he would never again be overpowered by some sage who appeared out of nowhere and forced him to flee.
"All forces — charge."
At his low command, tens of thousands of Kosala Kingdom soldiers surged toward the gates. The defenders swallowed hard and tightened their grips on their spears — and then something strange happened.
— Kuuung.
Something crashed down in front of the Kosala ranks. The ground shook as if an earthquake had struck, and every man froze in confusion.
"Wh-what was that?"
"What just fell?"
"That is…?"
What stood before them was a man. A young man with silver hair — the Sage.
"So you've come here again after all."
That was all he said. And yet the Kosala soldiers were too afraid to take another step. It was as if they had come face-to-face with a lion barehanded, or spotted a raging elephant thundering toward them — an inexplicable urge to turn and run seized every one of them.
"What are you doing, you idiots? Do you want to die by my hand?"
Virudhaka's bellow finally forced the soldiers to crush down their fear and push forward.
"Haa…"
The Sage sighed as if the whole affair were a nuisance, then threw a fist toward the oncoming ranks. Nearly a hundred soldiers went flying like autumn leaves in a gale.
"What?"
Virudhaka, watching from the rear, gaped in shock. The Sage paid him no mind. Another sweep of his fist, and more soldiers lifted into the air and slammed back to earth. The impact left them unconscious or broken in some limb, writhing in pain, unable to rise. More astonishing still — not a single man among them was dead.
The Sage repeated the motion a few dozen times. Before long, every soldier who had stood between him and Virudhaka was out of the fight.
"This is…"
"Why have you come here again, Virudhaka?"
The Sage walked up to the speechless king and asked the question.
"What courage does a man who ran away in fear have to lead an army back to this place?"
"Shut up!!"
Rage flooded Virudhaka. He drew his chakrams and leapt at the Sage, bringing two down with both hands while hurling the other two to strike from behind. The blazing chakrams were genuinely threatening — but the Sage remained unmoved. A wave of force radiated from his body, and every chakram flying toward him was flung aside in an instant.
"Ghk?!"
The Sage seized the airborne Virudhaka by the throat and drove him into the ground. Even then Virudhaka swung a chakram at the Sage's neck — only for the blade to bounce off as if it had struck solid rock.
"Useless. You've trained reasonably well in Sasang-muye, I'll grant you that — but the mere fact that you thought this level of skill could touch me is almost enough to make me angry."
"Krrgh!!"
"Come back when you've trained more."
The Sage kicked Virudhaka hard enough to produce a wet, meaty thud. That single blow left the king coughing blood, unable to rise.
"Kh… kh-kh-kh-kh…"
Even so, Virudhaka burst into laughter. It was not bluster. It was closer to a sneer.
"You fool! While you've been dawdling here, the place you were trying to protect is already burning!"
"If you're talking about the troops you sent to the other gates, I've already dealt with all of them on my way here."
"…What?"
"You split your forces and sent them to each gate, didn't you? I've already subdued every last one. This was the final stop."
"Don't give me that crap! If that were true, there's no way I wouldn't have known by now!"
"I struck from the rear. None of them had time to send a messenger. They probably couldn't even grasp the situation properly."
"…"
Virudhaka had nothing left to say. When entire units were being blasted skyward from behind, how many men could accurately assess the battlefield and respond?
"I have no hobby of slaughtering the weak. Go home quietly."
In his mercy, the Sage spared Virudhaka's life once more. The Kosala army, having achieved nothing of substance and suffered only heavy losses, had no choice but to withdraw to their own kingdom.
"Waaaaaah!!"
"The Sage won!!"
"I can't believe it!"
The people erupted in cheers the moment they realized they had survived without a scratch. When the Sage stepped through the gates, so many citizens thronged forward to welcome him that the streets were packed.
"The Sage is a hero among heroes."
"A single man driving off an entire army!"
"Siddhartha! Siddhartha! Siddhartha!"
They chanted his name without end. The Sage raised a hand to quiet them and spoke.
"I merely fulfilled the duty of this kingdom's royal blood. Just as you pay taxes to the crown and labor to support your families. My method simply happened to be a little more conspicuous."
He was not trying to sound humble. He was simply saying what he meant. The Sage thought little of what he had done. He told the gate commander to report the situation to his younger cousin, then rose into the air. More precisely, he stepped on empty space — but to everyone watching, it was indistinguishable from flight. Naturally, the sight of a bare-bodied man soaring into the deep forest left every citizen with their mouths hanging open.
"Mama. Is the Sage a bird?"
"W-well… I don't know?"
From that day on, the people no longer felt that the Sage was the same kind of being as themselves. And perhaps that was when it began — the slow birth of faith in the Sage, spreading through every corner of the kingdom.
Lately, the Sage had been feeling strange. During meditation, his body kept prickling. Some unidentifiable power kept flowing into him.
What… is this?
The Mind's Eye alone was not enough to grasp the nature of the force. So the Sage opened his true eyes and examined the power arriving from outside. In time, he understood: it was a peculiar form of Prana born from faith.
So even mere belief held this kind of power?
Come to think of it, the gods of old had supposedly taught humans the Astras precisely to harvest this force. Experiencing it firsthand, he understood why. It was dozens of times more efficient than gathering Prana through personal cultivation. If he accepted this power fully, he would grow several times stronger overnight.
But…
Far too unstable.
The moment that faith vanished, the power would dissolve like a mirage. A force that depended on the whims of other people's hearts did not suit the Sage's tastes. For that reason alone, he rejected the faith. He did not care how others saw him — but he had no intention of taking anything from it. He continued his training solely to reach the ultimate through power he had built with his own hands.
— Shaaaaa…
Then, without warning, rain began to fall from the sky. It was no brief shower; the downpour showed no sign of stopping. Inside the cave, the Sage drifted into a quiet mood and listened to the rain. Countless droplets struck the earth and rebounded. In principle, the same substance should produce different sounds depending on what it hit — yet rain, with its peculiar breadth and continuity, sounded nearly the same no matter where one listened.
— Step. Step.
Even so, the Sage sensed someone approaching.
Three women… all Kshatriya — the noble class?
Their footsteps were nothing like those of the disciples who served him. They were far lighter, with a subtle clumsiness that suggested they had never truly run in their lives.
"We're here! Let's rest for a bit."
"Huh? Unnie, there's someone here."
Three unfamiliar women appeared before the Sage.
"Wh-who are you?"
"I believe that's my line."
When one of them asked, the Sage answered with a question of his own.
"A-are you a sage who lives here?"
"We only need to get out of the rain. Forgive the intrusion, but may we take shelter here for a while?"
"We'll pay you, of course. It won't be long…"
"I don't particularly mind. Stay as long as you need to rest, then go."
The Sage readily welcomed the three women into the cave.
"Thank you so much."
"Thank you."
They stepped inside. Their clothes were fine, but they had clearly met with some misfortune along the way — no attendants accompanied them, and their garments were badly torn. Their faces were similar enough to mark them as sisters, yet each carried a distinct presence, a charm all her own.