The morning they left, Pil-Bae didn't say goodbye.
He stood at the broken temple gate with a jug of wine in one hand and his foot resting on a cracked stone lion.
"You'll both die," he said.
Baek-Ha adjusted her travel bag. "Probably."
Sim Gwan just nodded. "Thanks for the hospitality."
Pil-Bae snorted. "Next time you come back, bring me a new student. Preferably one that doesn't bleed on my floor."
They walked down the path without looking back.
But Sim could feel the old man watching.
The way ghosts do.
---
Black Hollow Lake was four days northeast.
Through bamboo forests. Past trader roads patrolled by second-rate sects and first-rate liars. Over winding cliff trails haunted by wild beasts and worse.
The journey was quiet.
But not peaceful.
Baek-Ha was distant. Focused. Always ten steps ahead or behind. Her energy was sharper now. Not cruel but braced. Like she was preparing herself to be let down.
Sim didn't push.
He knew better.
But on the third night, as they camped near a creek, she finally spoke while sharpening a knife.
"Why did you take that letter seriously?"
He looked up from the fire. "Because I know what it's like to wonder if you're the only freak in the world."
She glanced at him.
Then away.
He added, "Because I'm tired of reacting. I want to start choosing. Even if it's the wrong thing."
Baek-Ha didn't reply.
But she sat closer.
---
They reached Black Hollow Lake at sunrise.
And immediately knew something was wrong.
The lake wasn't hollow.
It was dead.
No birds. No bugs. Not even frogs.
The water was smooth, but too dark. Reflective like obsidian. No ripples. No wind.
Baek-Ha whispered, "I hate this."
Sim nodded. "Same."
Then a voice rang out:
"About time."
They turned.
He stood on the dock.
Thin. Elegant. Cultivator robes in pristine grey-white. Hands folded politely.
His face was young. Skin perfect. Hair tied back with a red cord. And his smile
Too wide.
Too pleasant.
Like a merchant offering poison in a teacup.
"Welcome," he said, "to your answer."
---
They didn't move.
Sim reached for his blade.
Baek-Ha shifted her weight subtly, knees bent.
The man raised his hand, palm open.
"No tricks. No weapons. I came to talk."
Sim didn't relax. "You wrote the letter."
"I did."
"How do you know me?"
The man gestured at the lake. "Because you were designed, Sim Gwan."
Baek-Ha's voice cut through. "Who are you?"
His smile didn't move.
"I'm someone who watched too many die trying to force the heavens to notice them. So I built something different."
Sim's hand gripped his sword tighter. "Built what?"
The man's expression darkened, like a shutter pulling across his soul.
"The Veil Root Path was not discovered. It was engineered. I was the first test. You are the tenth."
---
Silence.
Baek-Ha took a half-step closer to Gwan.
Sim didn't blink. "So I'm an experiment."
"You're a blueprint," the man corrected. "The others failed. One combusted. One murdered seventeen disciples in his sleep. One begged me to kill him before the core inside him cracked."
Sim's stomach turned. "Why me?"
"Because you didn't ask for it. You just endured."
"And what now?" Baek-Ha snapped. "You expect him to thank you?"
The man's smile thinned.
"No. I expect him to survive what comes next."
He clapped.
The lake shifted.
A ripple. Then a whirlpool. Then arms.
A figure crawled from the water, dripping, wheezing.
A girl.
Young.
Eyes wild. Qi flowing violently, leaking out like smoke from torn skin.
"She's the eleventh," the man said. "She broke through two weeks ago. No control. No name left. She only understands pain now."
Sim's heart pounded. "You brought us here to watch her?"
"To fight her."
"What?"
The man stepped back.
"She's your future if you lose focus. If you give in. If you treat the path like a shortcut instead of a sickness."
The girl shrieked.
And charged.
---
The battle was madness.
She moved like a storm, her qi lashing out in wild bursts. Every step sent cracks through the dock. Her fingers bent unnaturally. Her eyes were bleeding black tears.
Sim met her with everything he had.
Foundation-level strikes. Channeling pain into precision. Reading patterns. Exploiting weakness.
But she was stronger.
Faster.
Unstable.
Each blow she landed burned. His left arm went numb. His lip split. His foundation wavered.
Then Baek-Ha entered the fray.
No weapons.
Just speed.
She redirected the girl's blows, disrupted momentum, flowed like water against fire.
Together, they wore her down.
Not with force.
With restraint.
With strategy.
With control.
And when the girl finally collapsed, gasping, twitching, eyes fluttering.
Sim didn't kill her.
He just whispered, "I get it."
And stepped back.
---
The man clapped again. "Good. You passed."
Sim fell to one knee.
Baek-Ha's hands were shaking.
"You're insane," she said.
"Correct," the man said. "But I'm not wrong."
He walked over, knelt beside Sim.
"You'll never be like them. Not exactly. But your pain will only grow stronger. So will your power. You'll need allies who understand your scars."
He looked at Baek-Ha.
"Keep her close. Or you'll most definitely lose everything."
He stood.
"Come back when your qi turns silver. That's when the next door opens."
Sim raised his head. "Cant even say your name?"
The man smiled wide, impossibly wide.
"I have many."
Then he vanished.
No smoke. No technique.
Just gone.
---
They left Black Hollow Lake without speaking.
That night, they camped in the ruins of a shrine on the way back.
Sim sat in silence, staring into the fire.
Baek-Ha curled beside him under the cloak.
She said, "That girl. The one in the lake. She didn't need an enemy. She needed a friend."
Sim nodded slowly. "We all do."
She looked up at him.
"Do you still think you're the only one like you?"
>"So this is her response."
He met her eyes.
And said, "Is that even a question."
---