The Heavenly Palace
The sky was shrouded in thick fog, and through it, someone walked with leisurely grace.
Parting the mist and stepping beyond the clouds revealed a supreme realm unreachable by any human.
With every footfall, the air thrummed with the sweet scent of peaches.
The sky was a brilliant blue, the sunlight warm and generous. In the vast meadow, insects sang in perfect harmony while butterflies danced on fluttering wings.
Venture a little farther, and these pleasantries would seem utterly trivial compared to the breathtaking vista that unfolded.
From a sheer cliff of jagged stone, a cascade of vivid blue water plunged downward. A single sip from that spring could heal any wound. Scattered throughout the grounds were sacred peaches—fruits so precious that eating one would grant humans enlightenment and bestow upon gods skin like white jade and bodies brimming with vitality.
Ancient humans had often called this place the Peach Blossom Paradise or the Land of Immortals. The gods referred to it as the Heavenly Palace, the ultimate ideal of all creation.
As the clouds parted, a colossal golden palace stretching a thousand li in every direction came into view.
At some point, many gods had begun calling it the Celestial Palace or simply the Heavenly Palace. But before that name took hold, it had another.
Manyeobgung.
This verdant sanctuary had, since time immemorial, been a mythical palace where only the Heavenly Deity and her closest attendants were permitted to set foot.
And now, someone had trespassed upon that sacred ground with filthy feet.
Reeking of the foul stench that clung to beasts who had taken root in the mortal realm.
[Halt right there!]
A thunderous voice rang out from afar, accompanied by golden lightning that stitched itself across the sky. With a deafening roar, a colossal man appeared—easily twelve cheok in height.
“That voice belongs to Nak-mae. The child born of lightning has grown so much already.”
The gods who had been born from lightning across the generations served as the gatekeepers of the Heavenly Palace, shouldering the grave duty of repelling intruders.
Nak-mae flinched at the unexpectedly gentle tone, but his expression quickly hardened.
“It has been a long time, Lord Shin-wol. I am truly glad to see you again after a thousand years, but we must save the pleasantries for later. I must ask you to turn back today.”
Though Nak-mae’s words sounded courteous on the surface, his demeanor was anything but. Shin-wol’s smile deepened.
“I have business with the Heavenly Deity. I merely wish to deliver my reply to her letter and leave. Step aside.”
“You were not invited. Moreover, you know full well the conditions required to enter the Heavenly Palace, do you not?”
When Nak-mae’s face twisted into a deep scowl, Shin-wol wore an expression of exaggerated pity.
“To treat your old master like an uninvited guest. How heartless time can be. It feels like only yesterday that I taught you how to wield lightning in the training hall.”
“I merely follow the rules. Anyone who breaks them—be they my master or an intruder—will be punished without exception.”
He slammed the butt of his spear into the ground in warning. Lightning crackled menacingly from the weapon, leaping upward with sharp snaps.
“My, my. You really are just as stubborn as your predecessor.”
“Out of respect for our past, I will speak to the Heavenly Deity on your behalf. I will even create a path for you down the mountain, so please, return now.”
The moment he finished speaking, Nak-mae raised his spear. As he thrust the heavy weapon straight forward, clouds gathered in the direction Shin-wol had come from, forming a massive bridge.
“Our past, you say.”
Shin-wol murmured softly, tilting his head. He appeared to be contemplating something.
Nak-mae tightened his grip on the spear.
He was no longer the newborn Nak-mae that Shin-wol had once known. A full thousand years had passed. He was now regarded as the most upright and impregnable gatekeeper in history.
His reputation was well-earned. If Shin-wol refused, Nak-mae would gladly use force to subdue him.
Just as he finished steeling his resolve, Shin-wol suddenly smiled.
It was a smile so different from the one he had worn moments ago that it sent chills down the spine—an eerie, ominous grin.
Nak-mae instinctively switched his stance, adjusting his grip on the spear.
“Very well. Out of consideration for our past, I shall give you one warning. If you do not wish to be reduced to a pile of charcoal, step aside.”
Despite his serene expression, Shin-wol’s words were utterly chilling. Nak-mae’s face flushed crimson and then paled. He roared.
“You truly intend to go this far…!”
Before he could finish, a massive pillar of flame engulfed both Nak-mae and Shin-wol. The blaze was so fierce it seemed capable of scorching the eyes themselves. In that instant, Nak-mae understood.
Shin-wol had deliberately missed. If he truly wished, hundreds of hellfire would devour his body without leaving a single trace.
But that was not the only thing that held Nak-mae in place. Something had wrapped around his ankle. It was colder than a midwinter frost and more ominous than a swarm of locusts blotting out the sky.
“There will be no second warning. Step aside.”
Beyond the wall of flames, Shin-wol’s face appeared. Those golden eyes, shining like a noble moon, and those perfectly curved lips forming a flawless smile—they were so horrifying that Nak-mae could barely stand to look.
Nak-mae knew something like this all too well.
“Lord Shin-wol… how did you come to be like this…”
He muttered in despair, then bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, his face twisted in anguish.
The way he struggled to suppress his emotions was no different from a thousand years ago.
In an instant, the surroundings darkened, swallowed by storm clouds. Even as he felt the overwhelming difference in power, Nak-mae refused to yield.
What a stubborn, obstinate child. Shin-wol chuckled softly.
A tremendous rumble echoed from above. At the deafening noise, Shin-wol wore a fleeting, bittersweet smile before tilting his head back to look at the sky. Only the clouds directly above him were pitch black.
“I suppose watching a disciple’s growth is also a master’s duty.”
Shin-wol lowered his head again, directing that soft chuckle straight at Nak-mae. The gatekeeper ground his teeth in fear. How could a man radiate such pure malevolence?
“Come, then.”
The tone was like that of an adult watching a child’s adorable antics. Nak-mae let out a furious shout and prepared to unleash lightning when—
“Enough.”
A merciful voice rang out. The dark clouds parted, and sunlight poured through the gaps. Beneath the bright rays stood a woman whose presence radiated gentle warmth.
“I wondered who was causing such a commotion in my garden.”
Wherever her elegant footsteps passed, new sprouts bloomed and even the earth itself seemed to rejoice.
The woman wore a translucent veil over her face and luxurious yet refined robes. Even with her features hidden, every step she took overflowed with grace, and each subtle gesture brimmed with dignity.
That alone was more than enough to overwhelm everything around her.
Nak-mae exhaled roughly and dropped to one knee in reverence. The woman gently stroked his head before approaching Shin-wol.
Shin-wol offered a neat smile and gave a slight nod.
“Have you been well?”
“You certainly have a silver tongue. Especially after nearly turning my garden into a sea of fire just now.”
The Heavenly Deity spoke lightly, as if teasing. Shin-wol returned the smile with equal ease.
“I was merely catching up with my former disciple.”
Shin-wol’s gaze drifted to Nak-mae, who remained kneeling. The young gatekeeper’s breathing was still ragged, his anger far from quelled.
The Heavenly Deity glanced at him as well and let out a small laugh.
“It doesn’t look like Nak-mae feels the same.”
“He must be going through a rebellious phase.”
At Shin-wol’s words, the Heavenly Deity chuckled softly. Nak-mae’s face burned with humiliation.
“How sly you are. Since you’ve come after so long, stay for tea. The Western sweets Mu-ho brought recently are quite delicious.”
At her words, Nak-mae looked up in alarm.
“H-Heavenly Deity, that is—”
Despite Nak-mae’s plea, the Heavenly Deity paid him no mind and gracefully waved her hand. She had only sliced through the air two or three times, yet an impossibly tall stone staircase now stretched before them.
It was the entrance to Manyeobgung.
By then, Nak-mae, who had been standing behind them, had vanished. In that brief moment, she had relocated him entirely.
“Come. Let us go inside.”
As the Heavenly Deity began to ascend, the stone steps shimmered and scattered sparkling light as if in delight. When Shin-wol reached out, however, they crackled in rejection, scorching his fingertips black.
He stared at his reddened fingers and let out a bitter sneer.
“And what sort of trick is this?”
By nature, Manyeobgung was a secret realm accessible only to gods. Shin-wol, who possessed neither divinity nor even a marble, should never have been able to set foot here.
The Heavenly Deity, who had been walking ahead serenely, suddenly stopped and turned around.
“A trick? You can climb them, can you not?”
A strange tension flowed between the two as they faced each other.
“Are you telling me to observe propriety?”
The surroundings were deathly silent. It seemed she had taken measures to prevent any disturbances from entering her dwelling. The Heavenly Deity burst into laughter. Unlike before, this laugh carried a hint of mockery.
“Your very existence already defies all propriety, yet here you are still worrying about such things. I never expected that.”
“Even one who defies propriety has not forgotten his manners. I came today only to deliver my reply to your letter, so there is no need for you to concern yourself like this.”
“…Looking at your face, it seems you intend to disappoint me once again.”
Even at her cold words, Shin-wol smiled and replied.
“That position is far too much for someone like me. Besides, to entrust the seat beside you to a gumiho without even a marble? Many spirits would rise up in rebellion.”
“Humility is admirable, but when it does not suit the situation, it only appears as arrogance.”
The woman let out a small sigh. That sigh transformed into a gust of wind that gently brushed through Shin-wol’s hair.
“Even if you belittle yourself by calling yourself a gumiho without a marble, your true nature does not change.”
The Heavenly Deity descended the stone steps once more. Despite her light footsteps, the earth trembled heavily with each step. The unusual sound caused even the surrounding air to freeze.
Finally stopping before Shin-wol, she slowly lifted her veil. Beneath it was a beautiful woman with eyes that glowed in five-colored light.
“Shin-wol. Were you not a primordial being, just like me?”