The Wheel of Teaching
In a way, there was nothing particularly special about the words.
Growing through trial and error was the most ordinary truth in the world.
But no one had ever spoken that ordinary truth to Ninala.
Anyone could say it — yet saying it aloud, at the moment it was needed, was an entirely different matter.
And more than that: there was sincerity in Sunya's words.
He was not offering hollow comfort. And that was what moved Ninala's heart.
"Besides, following a predetermined path doesn't guarantee perfect peace either."
"Um… what do you mean by that?"
"Even the most comfortable and safe road can fail you, depending on the circumstances. A sudden flood might swallow it. A hungry lion might appear. Or the person walking beside you might suddenly go mad and start swinging a blade."
"That's…"
"In practice, such things rarely happen. But someone who has been forced off the path by an unexpected accident — someone who has found a path of their own — would still be able to move forward even in a situation like that, wouldn't they?"
"…"
"Perhaps the husband your father has chosen for you will turn out to have a rotten character. He may have hidden it well until now, but that possibility is never zero. Of course, the same would be true if you chose your own husband. Still — the fact that you were able to choose is what matters."
"…Then what am I supposed to do?"
"I already told you. I can only light the way ahead. Don't lean on me — think for yourself, Ninala, and rely on yourself."
"But that's exactly why I feel so ignorant and helpless."
"Helping with that is my job."
He wanted her to know that even if she fell, she could rise again — that no matter what hardship or adversity came, she could endure and keep going. That even if the process was grueling and painful, it held value in itself. That was what Sunya told her.
"Of course, for all my grand talk, at the root of it I'm just satisfying myself. Haha."
Once again, out of habit, Sunya scratched the back of his head.
It was a far less reliable look than the one he'd worn a moment before — but he had already stirred something deep in Ninala's heart.
It was like a single thread of light illuminating the road ahead.
Like the first pale dawn breaking over a darkened world.
Even after all he had said, she could not fully understand. And yet she wanted to receive more of this man's teaching.
She felt that her salvation might lie there.
From that day on, Ninala became, for all practical purposes, one of Sunya's followers.
She learned what he taught, reviewed it, and cultivated herself.
The rest of her party, sensing something gradually changing in her, followed their mistress in silence and devoted themselves to Sunya's lessons as well.
She would wander many more times. Even so, she would keep moving forward.
She would not stop.
"…sob…"
Then, one day, Ninala found a man collapsed by the roadside, weeping.
He was crying so wretchedly that not only she but every passerby glanced at him at least once.
"Why do you weep so bitterly?"
Ninala approached and asked.
The man seemed to have needed someone to confide in. After a few sniffs, he opened his mouth at once.
"The person I loved has died. I meant to spend forever with her — but she fell ill and was gone. Just thinking that she no longer exists is unbearable. I want to end my own life right now."
Having finished speaking, the man broke into tears once more.
Some looked on with open contempt. Ninala did not.
She believed that the man before her also needed comfort and encouragement.
"I know someone. He might be able to ease even a little of the pain you're carrying."
Ninala met the man's eyes as she spoke.
And so the number of those who attended Sunya's lessons grew by one more.
Sunya did not spend his entire day teaching the students who sought him out.
When the lessons ended, he returned home at once and devoted himself to his family.
Of course, unlike ordinary human households, a household of gods had few duties that could truly be called obligations.
So what Sunya did upon returning was simply exchange affection with his family.
"Dad, is it really true? The people of the Mount Hua Sect swung their swords and made plum blossoms bloom?"
"Of course. Would you like me to show you?"
"Yes!!"
Just as he once had with Inanna, Sunya often told stories to his son, Kalam.
In the past he had told them at bedtime; lately he more often told them during meals.
Kalam's growth was astonishingly fast.
Not yet two years old, he already looked, outwardly, about seven or eight.
His mind was sharp as well, and he grasped things quickly.
"Whoa!"
Sunya casually picked up a skewer and gave it a light shake.
He did not set his stance or swing properly — he simply waved it, nothing more.
Even so, a pink haze rose from the tip of the skewer, spread outward, and took the shape of plum blossoms.
"Wow! So these are plum blossoms!!"
Kalam sniffed at them, inhaling the scent.
"And this is what plum blossoms smell like!"
"Amazing, isn't it?"
"Yes! So if I do this, can I defeat all my enemies and become a powerful god?"
"No. That would be impossible."
"What? Impossible?"
"Yes. Impossible."
Sunya was honest.
Even if he could not lie, he could have softened the truth with vague phrasing — but he deliberately chose not to.
"Even if you swing a sword and make flowers bloom, you're only clumsily imitating the authority of the gods. To become a truly strong god, you must show something beyond that."
"…Then why did you talk about it like it was so incredible at first, if you were going to say that?"
Kalam pouted, looking dejected.
"Because that is a story of humans. They imitated the authority of the gods in order to wield great power — and that, you could say, is the origin of the 'martial arts' I just mentioned."
"…So in the end, martial arts are just a cheap knockoff of the gods' authority. Basically useless in the society of gods, right?"
Where on earth had he learned the word knockoff?
The old saying about watching one's language in front of children had never felt more real to Sunya.
"It isn't quite like that."
"Why not?"
"Martial arts are an act of accumulating karma. Cultivating a person to completion doesn't require martial arts alone — but training in them is, in itself, a thing of real value."
"I don't really understand what you're saying, Dad."
"You don't have to. When the time comes, you'll understand."
"…But Dad. Can't I go to the murim?"
Kalam asked, his face alight with excitement.
"Why do you want to go to the murim?"
"If martial arts are just imitations of divine authority, then if I go to the murim I can sweep everyone aside and become king!"
Already chasing the easy, satisfying answer.
Even over something so small, Sunya found himself fretting over his son's education.
Even so, he answered the question straightforwardly.
"I've never been there myself, so I don't know for certain. But if you wait a few thousand — or tens of thousands — of years and go near a river called the Yellow River, at the far eastern edge of the world, it might exist by then."
"Why does it take so long?"
"Because the murim doesn't exist now. It will arise far in the future."
"What? Then how do you know about it, Dad?"
"…This is a secret, but Dad came from the distant future. Otherwise I couldn't possibly know so many stories, could I?"
Sunya whispered it to Kalam as if sharing a confidential truth.
"Is that really a secret? I already know."
Inanna, sitting beside them, cut in with a look of pure mischief.
For some reason she had been watching the two of them with her lips pushed out in a pout, as if nursing a grievance for some time.
"…Ah! Come to think of it, I have something to do — I'll be going now."
Kalam was every bit as sharp as Sunya when it came to reading a room.
He immediately understood why his mother was in a foul mood and vacated the premises without delay.
"Haha…"
"What are you laughing at?"
"Nothing. Just that you're adorable, Lady Inanna."
"…You think that'll get you off the hook? Lately you've only been paying attention to Kalam and those students of yours. Are you already neglecting your wife?"
"Neglecting is a bit much, don't you think?"
"If I say it's neglecting, it's neglecting."
"Haha…"
After a stretch of that idle banter, Inanna glanced around.
Confirming that no one else was nearby, she cleared her throat and leaned her body against Sunya.
"Aren't you being a little too indifferent to a wife this beautiful?"
"Hmm. It seems I've made you feel insecure, Lady Inanna. How might I ease even a little of that hurt?"
"How, you ask?"
Inanna pulled her clothes down.
Her full, pale breasts filled Sunya's vision.
"Do I really have to say it out loud?"