The blazing celestial jewel hung in the spring sky, a silent witness to the disputes unraveling below. Shadows stretched over the ravaged forest, eerie silhouettes cast by the remains of the sacred tree.
Smoke lingered from the previous night's events, curling through the tense air. Whispers flitted like restless ghosts, carried by wary glances.
Kyorin stood bound in wooden cuffs, his small frame dwarfed by the villagers surrounding him. At the forefront, the elders loomed, their expressions carved from stone.
Tao Zheng stepped forward. "I believe some of you are wondering why we have gathered here," he began, his voice steady.
He recounted the events—the threat to the sacred tree, the looming presence of Fractsidus, and how, in the end, it was not an outsider but one of their own who had set it ablaze.
Gasps rippled through the crowd. Suspicion turned to outright hostility as accusations stirred among them.
"Do you deny responsibility?" Tao Zheng's voice was a blade poised to cut through deception.
Kyorin met the question without hesitation. His expression was neither cocky nor confident—simply indifferent.
"Yes," he admitted. "I burned that tree."
A hush fell before shattering into hushed murmurs.
How could he say it so lightly?
Resentful glares bore into him, yet Kyorin remained unfazed. His unreadable expression slowly shifted—confusion, perhaps even pity.
The villagers mistook it for remorse.
"Hmph." Yao Hong scoffed, her voice sharp with judgment.
"You have confessed to your sins. Now, you must atone." Her glare could cut stone, but Kyorin did not waver.
"Now then," she continued, "shall we decide your punishment—"
"And exactly what am I being punished for?" Kyorin cut in, his voice calm but his words striking like a spark to dry tinder.
Silence, taut as a bowstring, stretched before Yao Hong bristled.
"You dare ask that? You just admitted your crime!" Her hand trembled as she pointed at him, her fury barely contained.
"But all I did was destroy one lifeless tree," Kyorin said plainly. His gaze shifted to the elders. "Whereas you have killed living trees—ones that had life and purpose."
"Y—You!" Jiang Nan, one of the remaining elders, jabbed a finger at Kyorin, his voice a mix of rage and disbelief.
"Do you even understand how valuable that tree was?"
Kyorin's response was simple, thoughtless. "I do. Uncle Yao told me everything."
The weight of silence pressed down, thick and suffocating.
"However," Kyorin continued, "even knowing that, I still believed it was the right thing to do."
"Don't spout nonsense!" Yao Hong erupted. "You destroyed our protector!"
"A protector," Kyorin mused, tilting his head, "or a warden?"
Yao Hong's fists clenched, but before her fury could spill over, a hand settled on her shoulder—Fan Hui.
"You speak something interesting, little one," he said.
Unlike the others, his smile held no judgment. No scorn.
Kyorin turned toward him, curiosity flickering in his eyes.
Fan Hui regarded him for a moment before posing a question. "Knowing that the tree was a protector, why do you call it a warden?"
Kyorin's voice remained steady. "Because in protecting you, it planted something deeper—a belief that you cannot survive beyond its reach. This village, in truth, has become a prison."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Uncertainty crept into their expressions like cracks in old stone.
Fan Hui nodded. "That is an interesting point."
Yao Hong's scowl deepened.
"However—"
Fan Hui's expression darkened. His gaze, once warm, turned sharp as he pointed at Kyorin. "The tree had a purpose—it was our hope. And yet, you have burned that hope to ashes."
The words settled over the crowd like a funeral shroud. Then, with a slow shake of his head, he declared, "For that crime, child, you will still face punishment."
His posture remained composed, but the slight curl of his fingers betrayed the tension beneath.
'There are many in this village who revere the tree as sacred,' he thought. 'If I let this child speak too freely, he will tear through us elders like a blade through silk.'
His gaze flickered to the other elders. 'We need more voices—more hands—to reinforce our authority.'
A shadow passed behind his eyes, a deeper scheme settling into place. But outwardly, he remained solemn.
"That, I am aware of," Kyorin admitted.
Fan Hui's expression brightened, sensing an opportunity.
"But," Kyorin continued, "I am also aware that the elders believed the tree would survive an explosion far more than a simple lantern fire."
A flicker of uncertainty passed through the crowd.
Tao Zheng's eyes narrowed. 'Exactly what is he trying to get at?'
Kyorin repeated himself—not aimlessly, but with intent, circling his point like a predator closing in.
"This was, I suppose, to kill the Fractsidus," Kyorin mused. "But even then… why would you need to if the tree was truly there to protect you?"
The elders and some villagers flinched. Others exchanged uneasy glances.
If the tree was sacred—if it was divine—why did it need their help?
Kyorin's gaze swept over them before he spoke again. "And at that moment, I wondered… Have I been deceived?"
The words echoed, daring them to answer.
"Was I led to believe I should entrust my life to a withering tree?" His voice held no anger, only quiet conviction. "Or should I live it as I see fit—for my own well-being?"
The silence that followed was heavier than before.
Even Fan Hui said nothing.
A crack had formed—a seed of doubt, subtle yet dangerous.
If the so-called protector truly held divine power, why did it need their intervention?
A dangerous question, one that could turn suspicion inward: "Is the sacred tree truly as all-powerful as they believe?"
"Quite the manipulator you are."
A voice slithered through Kyorin's consciousness—Deva, watching from the depths of his mind, her amusement like a whisper in the dark.
Kyorin, unfazed, threw an unexpected remark back at her.
"Not much of a great deceiver like you."
"???"
Deva, caught off guard, hesitated. "Me? The Great Deceiver?"
"Yes," Kyorin affirmed, his voice calm, almost casual. "You are a great deceiver."
His words, though simple, carried an edge—one even Deva had not anticipated.
"Why do you say so?"
She questioned, not with resistance, but with curiosity. That alone was enough to draw a small smile from Kyorin.
"You are the protector," he said simply. "And in this scuffle between the villagers and me, you have as much a part to play as they do—as I do."
"Hoh?" Deva mused, rolling his words over in her chips.
After a moment, she asked, "And how am I to be sure that you are not deceiving me into taking action?"
Kyorin shook his head inwardly. "I have dominion over myself—my actions, my words, my thoughts. However," he continued, "I do not have the luxury of controlling the actions of others."
DEVA, still in her gourd form hung on Kyorin's belt, turned her attention toward the villagers. Yet, even with Kyorin's words, she could not grasp what role she played in this conflict.
"How am I a part of this?" She asked.
Kyorin's answer came in simple words.
"You are the protector of Yang Niu Village. That burned tree was the symbol of the hope and protection you bestowed upon this land." His voice was calm, deliberate. "You have your say in this."
"Isn't this just a weak attempt to sway me with words?" DEVA questioned, yet uncertainty gnawed at her—born not from Kyorin's words alone, but from his actions.
Kyorin, attuned to her hesitation, spoke now with an unusual mixture of both pity and empathy. "Are you DEVA… or just data?"
"..."
Silence.
Deva remained still, wary—too wary. She had been calculating every step, shaping her responses based on the best possible outcome.
Yet she was thinking too far ahead, lost in the probabilities of the future, contemplating an unspoken question.
Was Kyorin weaving an elaborate trap to use her?
Of course, he was.
Just as she intended to use him.
Then… was this what Kyorin wanted? A relationship built on give and take?
It wasn't a bad offer.
And yet, Deva hesitated. Unlike her usual rational self, something—something beyond calculations, beyond logic—made her pause.
For the first time, her consciousness wavered as she asked, "What do you expect from me?"
Kyorin sighed heavily inwardly, the weight of something unspoken pressing against his heart.
Before he could answer, a voice cut through the thick air.
"Kyorin."
Tao Zheng's solemn tone pulled Kyorin's gaze toward the elder.
"Let's say, for a moment, that you are correct," Tao Zheng began. "That the tree was nothing more than a powerless husk of decayed wood."
Yao Hong frowned at his words, but Tao Zheng continued undeterred.
"Even so," he pressed, his eyes narrowing, "are you suggesting that all the miracles the tree performed were mere coincidences?" He asked.
Kyorin was quiet for a moment.
Then, simply, he replied, "I don't know. But..." He met Tao Zheng's gaze directly, unwavering. "I don't know much." His words left many in confusion when—
"Brat, speak! What are you trying to say?" a voice interrupted sharply.
Yao Hong's voice cracked like a whip through the tense air. Her eyes blazed with fury as she took a step forward. "Or else, I will slit your throat."
The threat was sharp, firm.
Yao Ming's breath caught in his throat. He looked at his grandmother in disbelief, as if seeing her for the first time.
He wanted to say something—to protest—but before he could, another voice rose above the murmurs of the crowd.
"Don't you dare lay a hand on him."
A ripple of surprise passed through the villagers as Xia, who had been silently watching, stepped forward. Her eyes burned with defiance.
"Are you truly so desperate that you would threaten a mere child into submission?" she barked, glaring at Yao Hong.
Yao Hong scoffed, folding her arms. "Oh, please. We are not tyrants. Everything we do is for the well-being of the village."
"By threatening?" Xia shot back, her voice like a blade, prompting a frown form Yao Hong.
The two women locked eyes, tension crackling between them like an oncoming storm. Before the argument could escalate, Tao Zheng's voice rang out, cutting through the unrest.
"Enough. Let's return to Kyorin." He turned his gaze back to the boy. "Can you be clearer with your words? Exactly what are you saying?"
Kyorin thought for a moment and then answered. His voice calm, "I have never seen the world beyond this village."
Tao Zheng now understood Kyorin's words.
Even if the villagers believed and some have seen the tree performing miracles, Kyorin who was but a child and had never seen them. He could neither confirm nor deny the so-called miracles, as he had no idea about them.
'Not blindly placing faith, yet not blindly doubting either, huh?' Tao Zheng stroked his chin thoughtfully before finally giving his verdict. "But you do take responsibility for burning the tree, correct?"
"Of course," Kyorin replied simply.
Tao Zheng gave a slow nod. "Then tell me—how do you plan to atone for your sins?"
He knew full well that Kyorin would never accept a punishment unless he deemed it justified. That was why Tao Zheng had chosen this approach—to let Kyorin decide his own fate.
'Now that you've backed yourself into a corner, let's see how you escape,' Tao Zheng mused, his mind already preparing to counter whatever punishment Kyorin might suggest.
By steering the conversation this way, Tao Zheng ensured he held the upper hand. But Kyorin was no fool—he saw the shift in their tactics.
Since they couldn't outmatch him in wordplay, they had changed their approach, attempting to trap him in a different way.
They could have resorted to force from the beginning, yet their concern for appearances held them back. Now, however, the choice was Kyorin's—but that did not mean his choice would be accepted by the elders.
"Now that you've cornered yourself, what will you do?" DEVA asked.
Kyorin merely shook his head. "Did all my words fall on deaf ears?"
Without waiting for a response, he moved toward Yao Hong, his steps steady, deliberate. Then, to everyone's shock, he spoke.
"Slit my throat."
To be continued...