"What is guilt?"
A chain binding one to past mistakes, or a whispering shadow that never fades? For some, it is a burden to bear; for others, a force that drives them forward.
Lying in bed, Kyorin pondered this. His mother's tearful confession and the weight it bore on her heart. Was guilt the price of choice, the mark left by actions that could not be undone?
It twisted the soul, making one question every word, every step. It could drive a person to redemption or fester into a silent torment.
For Tang Yi, it was both a motivator and a curse. She sought to mend past wrongs, only to deepen the fractures.
Xia's guilt was different—a mother's anguish, watching her son carry burdens no child should. It was a silent scream, a cry swallowed by love and helplessness.
And Kyorin? He saw guilt as a passing shadow—acknowledged, then discarded. The past was set, the future uncertain, but the present was his to shape.
"Leaving the village, huh?"
Kyorin entertained the thought, but it was a gamble. The world beyond was dangerous, filled with horrors Xia refused to speak of due to his age.
Yet, he needed answers. That left him with only one option—ask someone else. And who better than Tang Yi?
With that in mind, Kyorin decided to let his body slumber in the embrace of Xia. The next day, he woke up and headed to collect grass again, deliberately taking another route to meet Tang Yi, who was strolling on the pathway.
"Good morning, Grandma Tang," Kyorin greeted her with a curt bow.
Tang Yi, looking at the basket and sickle Kyorin was carrying, frowned inwardly. 'Is that lass still unwilling? Even after my goodwill, tch.'
She tsked inwardly, disappointed at her goodwill being wasted but didn't show it as she greeted Kyorin back. "Good morning, Little Kyorin."
There was a pause between the two as Kyorin took the first step, but Tang Yi stopped him. "Stop!"
"Did Xia—your mother, say anything yesterday?" Tang Yi asked.
Kyorin nodded. "She told me something about struggling to move out."
'That lass is so indecisive,' Tang Yi thought, flustered. She shook her head, deciding to leave, when Kyorin pulled on her dress. "—!!?"
"I asked Mother," he began, his voice carrying a quiet weight. Tang Yi, intrigued, leaned in slightly.
"I asked, but she wouldn't answer." His tone was laced with curiosity, but his eyes—trembling just slightly—betrayed something deeper. A flicker of hesitation, a shadow of fear.
"What is outside?" he asked. "What is it like?"
"The world outside this village, hmm…" She closed her eyes briefly, a small smile forming as she pondered how to present it. "It is vastly different. Our world, Sol-III, the third planet from the sun, is a place of chaos and change."
"Old conventions are discarded, disasters run rampant, and human civilization struggles to survive in an era of destruction and rebirth." Tang Yi spoke in a solemn voice.
Kyorin's eyes widened with wonder, his ears straining to listen intently.
"However," Tang Yi continued, "Yang Niu is special. Our village stands as both a sanctuary and a mystery. It is free from the destructive forces known as Tacet Discords and is preserved in a fragile harmony."
Kyorin tilted his head, absorbing the information.
"This harmony," Tang Yi explained, "is shaped by a guardian of this land, who deals with the Tacet Discords, making this place a safe haven."
"But what's outside?" Kyorin asked, genuine curiosity mixed with a hint of fear.
Tang Yi smiled gently. "Outside, it's unpredictable and filled with dangers we can't foresee. But remember, the guardian ensures our safety here."
As she left, Kyorin remained where he was, his thoughts sifting through her words. 'I need more information,' he thought, replaying her remarks: "Yang Niu is a safe sanctuary." ,"Outside, it's unpredictable and filled with dangers."
'Does she want to drive us off this island, or is there something deeper? ' Kyorin wondered. Calling this place a sanctuary while urging someone to leave this so-called haven—her words struck like a paradox, colliding like steel against stone.
Deciding not to delve too much into it, Kyorin went on with his daily task. After finishing collecting herbs, he went to sell them. During the transaction, Kyorin asked, "Uncle, do you know what the outside world looks like?"
Upon hearing Kyorin's question, the merchant seemed to shudder slightly before replying, "The outside is a world of chaos compared to this serene village."
This wasn't the answer Kyorin sought. He pressed further, "Then how do people survive out there?"
The merchant's lips curled into a small smile. "Because of the Resonators and Sentinels."
"Resonators? Sentinels?" Kyorin repeated, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
"Yes," the merchant nodded. "Resonators are individuals who can attune themselves to certain objects, manipulating their frequencies. They can achieve what ordinary people cannot," he explained.
"And Sentinels?" Kyorin probed.
"The Sentinels stand at the edges of civilization and history, both guardians and guides. Their immortal existence has carried humanity through countless trials, offering prophecies and wisdom," the merchant said with a quiet reverence.
Kyorin took in the words, his mind weaving through the implications. Beyond Yang Niu, the world was not just a chaotic expanse—it was sustained by extraordinary beings who upheld survival and progress against the tide of chaos.
Yet, to Kyorin, this information settled in his mind as nothing more than a simple fact: "So, in the so-called chaotic expanse, there is still a way to endure."
"But though the Resonators and Sentinels strive to uphold peace, suffering persists. The outside world is locked in an endless war against monsters," the merchant added.
"Monsters?" Kyorin echoed, curiosity flickering in his gaze.
The merchant nodded, a shiver running through him. "There are Tacet Discords—TDs," he whispered.
"They are sentient beings, born from the residual chaotic frequency energy of the Waveworn Phenomenon, their forms ever-shifting, amorphous," he said, his voice tinged with solemnity.
"They are said to possess Tacet Cores—Sound Nucleus, or Reverberation Bodies—and instinctively feed on other frequencies... or people, to maintain stability and evolve," the merchant added, his words laced with fear.
Kyorin listened as the merchant continued, "These creatures mimic the abilities, shapes, and behaviors of others, adapting based on the types of frequencies—people—they consume."
Kyorin let out a small hum, finding this information useful and fascinating. Though he still had questions, he decided not to push the merchant, as it might seem misleading and make him appear as someone trying to explore outside.
"Thank you for sharing this, uncle," he said with a bow.
The merchant waved his hand. "No need. These are just some normal information you are bound to discover sooner or later," he said.
'Sooner or later.'
That is right, Kyorin was bound to get the information he wanted on Tang Yi sooner or later. With that thought, he went home as dusk had settled.
During dinner, Xia seemed to have thoughts that made her ponder and not eat much. Kyorin asked, "Is something wrong, Mother?"
"My dear, do you like it here?" she asked. The question was misleading. Xia could have been asking whether he liked doing his current chores, but she was actually asking whether he move from this place or not.
Perhaps due to her unwillingness and indecisiveness to choose whether to stay or leave, this misleading question had been blurted out.
Kyorin, understanding the underlying meaning in her words, gave a simple answer. "We are living happily and enjoying ourselves in the present," he said, to which Xia nodded in agreement.
"As of now, we face no problems. There is no struggle threatening our current life," he added. Again, Xia nodded, but something in Kyorin's words tugged at her instincts—an emphasis, subtle yet deliberate.
"As long as we can live happily, like we do now, I see no reason to resent it," Kyorin reiterated, once more stressing the present. Xia noticed.
Though his words were perfectly natural, her mind, already clouded with worry over her son's future and the dangers beyond, coupled with Elder Tang's urgings, began to spiral.
"If this peaceful life were to be shattered..."
She couldn't even begin to imagine what would follow. The mere thought filled her heart with dread.
"Mother..."
"Mother?"
"—!!?"
Lost in her thoughts of their fragile peace crumbling, she was snapped back by Kyorin's voice. He watched her, concern flickering in his gaze. "Is everything alright?" he asked.
Xia forced a smile. "Yes, sweetie. Say... what do you think about traveling outside the village?" She immediately asked.
Kyorin blinked, caught off guard. 'Hmm, she really is a worrywart,' he thought.
Earlier, she seemed hesitant to leave, but now, entertaining the prospect of this peaceful life not being everlasting, she decided to change her approach.
"Everlasting."
Those words struck a chord with Kyorin as he pursued it, yet it always seemed out of reach for him.
Perhaps it was due to inconsistency, being unprepared when ascending, not giving enough effort, or due to circumstances.
These were normal thoughts for anyone in Kyorin's shoes, but not for him.
He failed.
He was given another chance.
He would attempt again.
These were the only thoughts left in his mind. He had failed before, he was now given another chance, and he might succeed. That's all he knew.
That was his way of thinking—a singular fixation on the present. Past deeds were simply memories, and the future a distant abstraction.
He existed solely in the now, unburdened by what had been or what might come, for his entire world was the immediacy of this moment.
"Sweetie... Do you wish to travel?" Xia asked again.
Kyorin smiled and gave her a simple answer. "If Mother is going, then so will I."
Xia was once again left in a difficult position, as she was the one to decide. She inwardly pouted, 'Why is my son so indecisive?'
Yet the next moment, Kyorin added, "What Mother thinks is best for me and her, and I know that Mother will make the right decision at the right time."
"—!!?" Xia blinked, as her tight gaze loosened a bit.
Kyorin's words reassured her that she didn't have to rush her judgment. When the right time arrives, she will make the correct decision.
Though Kyorin's way of letting Xia be the ultimate decider seemed foolish, naive even as he was entrusting his life to another, it wasn't truly the case.
He had only been reincarnated into this world for four years and had known Xia for those four years.
She was naive and clumsy, often hesitant, her thoughts swaying with minor inconveniences or worries that had yet to unfold.
While others saw these traits as a recipe for disaster, Kyorin recognized something deeper—a quiet, unwavering decisiveness.
Decisiveness wasn't about constant certainty; it's about making the right choice at the right moment. Even Kyorin, who always acted with conviction, lacked this particular kind of resolve.
Unlike him, Xia wavered, hesitated—but when the moment truly demanded it, she made the right call.
Kyorin trusted that rare decisiveness more than his own, believing that when the time came, she would make the right choice for both of their wellbeing.
Reassured, Xia finally began to eat like herself again, realizing, 'It's not a problem right now.' She decided to focus on eating and continue to perform her motherly duties.
Watching Xia regain her appetite, Kyorin resumed his feast. Eventually, night crept in, wrapping the village in its nocturnal stillness. Later, resting in Xia's embrace, he let his thoughts drift back to what had transpired—not in reminiscence but in quiet reflection.
Elder Tang's words, the merchant's perspective... a puzzle forming in the shadows. "Something is happening under the village's nose, and at the center of it, stood Grandma Tang."
The next day, Kyroin crossed paths with Tang Yi once again. He showed a small interest in the outside world, which Tang Yi answered by giving some knowledge—just enough to satisfy Kyorin's curiosity.
She believed, 'Perhaps his interest may lead him to implore Xia to move out.' Meanwhile, Kyroin listened with an entertained reverie.
The day after, the same thing happened. Tang Yi began to give more interesting talks about the outside world, like the three nations, making Kyorin's eyes gleam.
She hoped he would tell Xia, portraying his interest. Yet, as each day passed and doomsday approached, Kyroin had just become a listener, and Tang Yi had become a storyteller.
Until one day, Kyroin encountered Tang Yi alone, but a giant hulking figure watched over her. As they crossed paths, the giant carrying a huge war hammer said, "Hmm, hungry. Perhaps this little feast won't be bad," which made Tang Yi sweat bullets.
Before anything could happen, Kyroin pulled out an apple from his basket and offered it. "Are you talking about this?" he said, handing the apple to the plump man.
"Honorable Fractisidus sir," Tang Yi called out, almost pleading. The plump man took the apple and said, "Hmm, this will work for now," as he gave Kyroin a final glance, thinking, 'I can enjoy this feast later,' before Tang Yi and the plump man moved on.
Once they left, Kyorin's demeanor shifted. 'Those words,' he recalled. The man was serious about consuming him. Kyorin immediately bolted back to the village towards the merchant and barged into the store.
"What the—" the merchant cried out, only to see a gasping Kyroin. "Kyroin?"
Kyroin, his voice heavy and gasping, formed out words.
"May... I... ha... have... haa... a word?"
To be continued...
****
A/N: Time for action. But after exams maybe.
I'm really happy with this chapter—I feel I've finally given Kyorin the characterization he lacked. He, who was previously just an isolated, fiercely independent figure but someone who has begun to grasp the complexities of human nature.
Once, he saw self-reliance as the only truth, untouched by society's unpredictability. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, too fragile, too easily broken
Now, he's learning to trust—but not blindly. For Kyorin, trust isn't about faith in people but in his own judgment, recognizing and relying on others unique qualities rather than the individuals themselves.
Do give your thoughts on this chapters.