The One Who Believes in God (2)
It was a small cave. So shabby and insignificant that, at first glance, it seemed as though nothing could possibly live there. Inside that place where not even a single ray of light entered properly, two figures stood close enough to touch.
One was the shrine maiden of Baehwagyo. The other was a monk dressed in plain robes. The maiden gazed at the monk, while he—though clearly aware of her presence—kept his eyes closed in silent meditation. The one who first broke the heavy silence between them was the maiden.
“...Banseon Lama. It is good to see you.”
The plainly dressed monk. Even with the maiden standing right before him, he continued his meditation as though she were not there at all. He was the one the world called Banseon Lama.
Only when she spoke did he finally react. As if noticing her for the first time, Banseon Lama slowly opened his eyes. Golden irises met the world, carrying a sacred energy that could be felt from a single glance.
“Should I say it is good to see you? Or would ‘it has been a while’ be more fitting?”
The maiden faltered for a moment at his enigmatic words, then offered a light smile as though nothing were amiss.
“...‘Good to see you’ will do nicely.”
Banseon Lama gave a small nod and lifted his head. Their eyes met, and he spoke.
“Thou who believes in God. Thou who believes in a false god.”
At the words false god, the maiden’s face twisted into a fierce scowl. As if she had suffered an unbearable insult, she summoned every ounce of her power.
The small, fragile cave could not withstand even that aura.
Tiny fragments of stone pattered down from the ceiling, and the cave began to show signs of collapse. Only then did the maiden grit her teeth and restrain herself.
“Why do you follow the will of Angra Mainyu—the evil god—rather than Ahura Mazda, all while acting under the name of Baehwagyo?”
To Banseon Lama’s question, the maiden answered as though stating the most obvious truth.
“A god resonates with justice across all creation, yet places the foundation of that justice upon their own truth. Are you truly daring to judge the truth of my god with nothing more than the eyes of a mere human?”
“To you it may be Angra Mainyu, but to me that being is far greater than Ahura Mazda. Therefore, I ask you not to insult him in my presence.”
Banseon Lama listened quietly, then nodded. After a moment of thought, he spoke again.
“The way God views the mortal world and the way we view it may indeed differ. I thank you for helping me realize a truth I had not grasped despite being called a Half-Immortal.”
He nodded with genuine gratitude. The maiden looked at him as though she were staring at something incomprehensible and replied in a mocking tone.
“I have no interest in your personal enlightenment.”
Banseon Lama, utterly unconcerned with her feelings, simply accepted her words and moved on. Their true conversation began in earnest.
“Very well. Then I shall ask you sincerely. Why have you come to see me in person?”
“Are you asking because you truly don’t know? Or are you mocking me? A prophecy. That is the only useful thing you possess.”
Prophecy. It was an ability that belonged to Banseon Lama alone. No strange sorcery or supreme martial realm could ever hope to replicate it, which was why it remained his sole symbol and the very foundation of Potala Palace.
“With those Hwaan Geumjeong, seeing through the past and present—even the future—is truly wondrous. It makes one wonder whether it is the same power held by the Great Sage Equaling Heaven in the old legends.”
“I ask this of you once more.”
For the first time, the maiden showed proper respect. She placed a hand over her heart and bowed slightly at the waist. Yet Banseon Lama shook his head as if he need not even look.
“It cannot be done.”
“Why not?”
What had been her utmost courtesy lasted less than a moment. The maiden twisted her lips into a chilling smile and glared at him. Dressed in pure white, she looked like a ghost.
Even so, Banseon Lama remained completely unmoved and spoke in the same calm posture.
“The first prophecy was granted because your heart was good.”
“The second prophecy was granted because although your heart was evil, there was still justification in it.”
Banseon Lama’s eyes snapped wide open. His golden gaze pierced straight through the maiden. For an instant, the entire world seemed to shine with golden light centered upon him.
“However, your current self still carries an evil heart, and you have accumulated such deep karma of slaughter that you have lost even that justification. Therefore, while I could prophesy your story, I cannot dare to bestow it upon you.”
The maiden frowned slightly, then shook her head, fiercely rejecting his words.
“That karma of slaughter no longer exists in this world. I have not killed a single person.”
For the first time, Banseon Lama moved. Slowly, he lifted an arm that had remained still for far too long, extended a finger toward her, and corrected her.
“The act of killing has vanished. Yet the karma of slaughter has not disappeared.”
“Even if you reflect, repent, and accumulate good deeds great enough to cover that karma, it will still follow you like a label. And yet you claim to be without sin?”
After rebuking her, Banseon Lama continued.
“I have no intention of granting a prophecy for a future in which you refuse to repent. Kill or be killed—do as you wish.”
He lowered his arm and closed his eyes once more. It was his declaration that nothing she did would change his mind.
“...I have no intention of committing further karma of slaughter.”
The maiden’s posture remained proud. Her brows were furrowed, her face steeped in displeasure. Yet her voice carried a note of desperation.
“I believe you already know. The reason I committed that karma was not from any lack of guilt, but from a faith greater than guilt itself.”
She spoke with complete sincerity.
“Because of my faith, I no longer commit unnecessary slaughter.”
To those words, Banseon Lama asked a question born of genuine curiosity rather than rebuke.
“Is that why you destroyed this palace?”
As if confirming that the absence of guilt had indeed been real, the maiden hesitated for a moment before answering with a small sigh.
“...It was necessary. To seize dominance over the Western Regions. Still, I intended to preserve its lineage, at least.”
Those words rang with undeniable truth. There was no way Banseon Lama—who had reached his realm through wisdom alone—could have missed it. He let out a deep sigh and fell once more into contemplation.
Two hours passed in silence.
Banseon Lama slowly opened his eyes again, revealing his golden gaze. He looked at the maiden and pointed at her once more.
“Thou who defies the heavens. I do not believe in you. I do not believe in your god. I do not believe your words, nor can I trust even a single one of your actions.”
Thou who defies the heavens.
“However, I believe in your faith, and I believe in this great one who changes the heavens. I believe in your devotion, and I believe in the wisdom granted to me by the divine.”
Thou who changes the heavens.
“Even if you borrow my power, on the day you finally fulfill your faith, you shall duly receive the sin that corresponds to your karma of slaughter.”
“Even so, do you still wish to hear the prophecy?”
Without the slightest hesitation at his reversal, the maiden nodded.
“I will hear it no matter what price I must pay.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Banseon Lama closed his eyes again and tapped his knee with a finger. Then, as though something had come to him, he let out a low groan and spoke slowly.
The stars embroidered upon the Milky Way of the night sky are three, yet four.
The fourth star exists, yet does not exist.
Among the three, the brightest star lies in Xinjiang.
The largest star resides in the Western Regions.
The smallest yet greatest star is in Hapbi.
The smallest star is great; with its faint light it buries the brightest star, and with its small body it conceals the largest star.
Yet fear not. The smallest star shall lose its twin star…
He could not finish the prophecy. His immovable state crumbled. His body pitched forward. Crimson blood poured from his lips.
The maiden bent her knees to catch him, but Banseon Lama struck her hand away.
“To prophesy for you… your karma of slaughter is far too deep.”
With a trembling finger still pointed at the maiden, even in his final moment he left her with an earnest request.
“Believer. I am one who dies yet does not die, so do not worry. Like the phoenix, I become an ember within the ashes of death and bloom once more. I promise to continue the prophecy I was giving you. Therefore, you too must keep the two promises between us.”
With those final words, Banseon Lama’s body crumbled into dust and scattered on the wind. Had he witnessed it, he would have called it reincarnation.
“...Three, yet four…”
The most crucial part of the prophecy had been cut off by his death. Still, she had clearly heard and remembered this much.
“I will remember.”
This, too, for the sake of God.