Voices in the Wind

The road to Nagan felt shorter after the bloody night. The caravan moved in silence, broken only by the horses' hooves and the creaking of the carts. Jin walked at the front, with his hood partially raised, eyes fixed on the horizon. The sea breeze carried the scent of salt and new stories.

But inside Jin, something had changed.

He felt the weight of what he had done. Not just the exhaustion in his muscles or the slight pain in his left shoulder — a gift from the fight — but the weight of the decision to take a life. Even in defense, even with purpose... killing left marks.

Chi appeared, sitting cross-legged atop a cart, blowing on an invisible flute.

— Grave silence today, huh? — he said, glancing sideways at Jin. — I expected you to be celebrating your first victory.

Jin didn't respond. Chi sighed.

— You didn't kill monsters, Jin. You killed men. Weak, desperate, dangerous... yes. But men. That's why you feel this way.

— I'm getting used to it — Jin finally said, his voice low, almost carried away by the wind.

— Don't get used to it — Chi replied, his voice suddenly serious. — Those who kill without feeling lose their soul. Those who feel too much, break it. Learn to carry the dead. That's all.

Jin remained silent. But those words stayed with him.

When they arrived in Nagan, the village was in the midst of a festival celebrating the sea's harvest. The stone streets were adorned with banners, and the fishermen shouted out offers of seafood as if they were selling gold.

The Seokjin Transport Company unloaded their goods quickly. Jin assisted in keeping watch, now respected by all. One of the veterans, a quiet man named Mu Hwan, gave him a slight nod as he passed — a gesture that, coming from him, was almost applause.

While the merchants negotiated, Baekho called Jin into a simple tavern protected by sound-sealing enchantments.

— Sit down — he said, pointing to the wooden bench.

Jin obeyed. Baekho remained silent for a few moments before speaking:

— What you did that night... it wasn't just luck. It was instinct, technique, and courage. I saw it. — He took a sip of tea before continuing. — But I also saw hesitation. That's good. It means you haven't lost your way.

Jin clenched his fists over the table.

— And if one day I do?

Baekho smiled.

— Then I hope you're surrounded by men who remind you of who you were. Or by ghosts. — His eyes narrowed. — Do you want to continue? Not as a helper, not as a third-rate escort. As a real part of the team. Facing what comes. Fighting. Maybe dying.

Jin didn't hesitate. His eyes were steady. Determined.

— I do.

Baekho nodded.

— Then prepare yourself. The next mission will be different. Bigger. More dangerous. But you won't be just another one.

That night, Jin walked to the rocks on the beach, where the waves crashed violently under the pale moonlight. There, standing on a stone, he took a deep breath. The sea wind hit his face like a promise of future battles.

Chi appeared beside him, eyes fixed on the dark horizon.

— No one is born a hero. And no one becomes one without losing something along the way — he said, in an almost solemn tone.

Jin looked up at the starry sky. And for the first time since the fall of Baekyun, he felt that maybe... he was on the right path.