Chapter 54 …
As soon as Girim dropped the seed onto his land, the mound of earth seemed to swallow it on its own and drew a deep breath. In an instant, a sprout shot up from the mound, growing at an incredible speed until it became a full-grown tree.
The tree, which had grown as if time had been fast-forwarded, stretched its branches high into the sky. Hundreds of green leaves sprouted from those branches, covering the heavens above. It was as if the hall, which had no ceiling, now bore a delicately carved roof.
Exclamations of awe erupted from every corner at the sight of such beauty.
Seon-oh also raised his head to look at Girim’s tree. Even knowing what was coming, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the magnificent spectacle.
“An hawthorn tree,” So-yoon murmured quietly, and Seon-oh’s breath slowed.
The hawthorn tree was the same tree that had appeared in the prophecy Ji-woon had passed down.
“Huh? Hawthorn trees grow this big? I thought they were really small trees.”
“It must be because the power of the gods resides in it. Is there anything lacking?”
“As expected, Lord Bu’s words are always sharp. Lord Gwak, is this really a hawthorn tree?”
Curious, Chaegyo asked, and Girim kindly answered.
“Lord Bu is correct. It is indeed a hawthorn tree.”
Girim’s eyes were filled with affection as he looked at his towering hawthorn. This trial of the gate would certainly feel unique to him as a Wood Strength Superhuman.
Once the candidates confirmed the power of the seed, they all dropped their seeds, and like Girim’s, sprouts quickly appeared. In the blink of an eye, the fully grown trees shared the ceiling of the hall evenly, giving the illusion that the hall’s design was now complete. It almost made one suspect that this process had been considered from the very beginning.
Once all the seeds were planted, a blue flame shot up from the brazier again, and a new oracle appeared.
Cheong-eum announced the new oracle.
“The third gate.”
A suffocating tension fell over the hall once again.
All eyes turned toward Cheong-eum’s calm lips.
“In 101 days from now, the Land of the Immortals shall open…”
At the mention of the Land of the Immortals, the expressions of the previously quiet candidates twisted individually.
Cheong-eum’s even voice continued to recite the oracle.
“If you enter there and succeed in blooming, then from the hawthorn trees on this land, splendid flowers shall surely bloom as well.”
Unlike before, this task was cryptic and hard to predict. Seon-oh, too, would have spent a long time just understanding the task’s intent if he hadn’t read the original work.
Every time, Seon-oh realized how much Ji-woon had awakened in him through the original work.
But…
“How did oppa know… all of this?”
Ji-woon knew the future. Yet if he knew everything, there would have been no need to bring Seon-oh along. There must be something even Ji-woon could not solve.
As Seon-oh thought of Ji-woon, Cheong-eum added,
“The candidates must pass through the gate before the day the Land of the Immortals permits.”
The vague timing created a sense of urgency.
“Then, good luck.”
After delivering the oracle, Cheong-eum bowed to the candidates—a departure from last time—and turned away, causing a commotion in the hall.
“The Land of the Immortals? Wasn’t that lost thousands of years ago?”
“Was it really a real place?”
“What does it mean to bloom? Are there hawthorn trees there too?”
“Ah, this is truly difficult!”
Some of the spectators were flustered by the mention of the Land of the Immortals, while others fell into deep thought. Gong-woon was among the latter.
“If we speak of immortals, they’re ancient superhumans, right, hyungnim?”
At I-so’s remark, Gong-woon simply stared into the void.
The third gate was incomparably more difficult than any of the previous gates. At this level already, one could only wonder how much harder the remaining two gates would be.
As I-so said, the immortals were the ancient superhumans—the first superhumans. The ones who first wielded the lunar cycle to control nature and live eternally, considered almost godlike.
Yet no one knew if they truly were alive, or if so, what they were doing.
With the disappearance of the Flower Cloud Island—the Land of the Immortals—their traces vanished as well.
‘And yet, the Flower Cloud Island will open.’
This was a very intriguing task.
Though Flower Cloud Island was lost, the method of entering it had been passed down through generations.
Gong-woon turned his gaze back to Seon-oh.
He was curious which of the two methods Seon-oh would choose.
As expected, Girim or So-yoon would most likely take the most certain first method.
Sure enough, So-yoon descended the dais without looking back and left the hall boldly. Girim immediately followed. Her steps weren’t hurried, but she seemed calm, as if she had already decided what to do.
“Lord Bu and Lord Gwak already seem to know how to enter Flower Cloud Island, don’t they?”
“Because they’re candidates for the Phoenix Contest.”
In response to I-so’s curious question, Gong-woon answered simply.
There were two tasks in this gate, and the first was obvious.
One: Enter Flower Cloud Island.
Two methods of doing so had been passed down through the generations. Many knew the method, but it was by no means easy.
And two: Once inside, discover what the oracle meant by ‘bloom.’ Even Gong-woon had no idea about this.
“Shouldn’t you come down quickly too, noona? It’s 101 days, so you need to start right away.”
As I-so murmured anxiously, Gong-woon chuckled. He found it absurd that I-so still didn’t understand his sister.
Yi-ryeong would not use the same method as Girim or So-yoon.
And as for Seon-oh…
At that moment, Seon-oh descended the dais and followed swiftly into the place where Cheong-eum had disappeared, raising Gong-woon’s eyebrows sharply.
‘Why there?’
Gong-woon twitched as if wanting to follow immediately, but as neither a priest nor a Phoenix Contest candidate, he had no right. A sudden, inexplicable premonition passed through him.
‘Could it be… the Lord Prefect’s taste…?’
The unpleasant thought made Gong-woon’s neck vein tighten.
‘So… he likes a pale, sickly-looking man who couldn’t even get porridge.’
Gong-woon instinctively understood that Cheong-eum and he were on opposite ends of the spectrum of preferences.
‘Hah, I wondered what kind of taste he had, and it turns out…’
Gong-woon smirked mockingly. Yet his clenched fist trembled slightly.
A moment later, a man trapped in a corner looked at Seon-oh.
The pale man who Gong-woon was scolding fiercely could no longer ignore Seon-oh’s approach and finally turned—it was Cheong-eum.
A subtle tension filled the empty corridor with just the two of them.
“What brings you here?”
His face was cold, as if Seon-oh had no business following him. Though brazenly indifferent, his eyes were icy, betraying the truth.
Cheong-eum was wary, fearing Seon-oh might use past events to gain information about this gate.
That day’s incident had been clearly his mistake, which almost led Seon-oh into danger, but it didn’t mean he could aid a candidate in the contest.
He had no such intention, and doing so would be tantamount to betraying the gods. The contest’s outcome was for heaven alone to decide—even if Seon-oh tried to threaten him with his weakness.
“I have nothing further to say, Lord Prefect. Prepare for the third gate.”
Seon-oh paid no mind to the cold remark. He glanced around, confirmed no one was there, and took something from his sleeve, holding it out.
Cheong-eum hesitated before reaching, his eyes wary. It was a rolled-up piece of paper.
“…What is this?”
Instead of answering, Seon-oh unrolled it and held it before Cheong-eum. The startled Cheong-eum read the words on the paper.
What Cheong-eum read was extremely precious.
It was the prophecy Ji-woon had conveyed to Seon-oh through a mysterious method.
