The Shaman Desires Transcendence

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Lightning striking does not mean enlightenment has arrived.

Until the lightning cleaves the heart and leaves its mark deep within, until that sudden light brightens the darkened heart, revealing its form clearly, before genuinely grasping that enlightenment, any supposed meaning it holds is merely a distraction.

Thus, those who crave enlightenment should not obsess over it.

Desiring to snatch at a fleeting ray that has already sparkled and vanished is as foolish as wishing for lightning to strike the same place twice.

Hence, the seeker must not cling to it but keep it in their heart, patiently waiting for the enlightenment to come while diligently seeking answers in silence.

Park Jinseong merely retained the memory of the word ‘star.’

It was a distraction.

And perhaps, it might be the key to not being a distraction anymore.

As always, he turned his gaze to Iarin, who stood beside Iserin.

Unlike her expressionless sister, Iarin was openly displaying her emotions through her entire body.

No, it wasn’t just that she was showing her feelings; it seemed she couldn’t properly control her qi because of those emotions.

The martial arts she was mastering relied on sensation and instinct.

Perhaps due to the nature of such martial arts, her emotions began to radiate a powerful energy; yet, thanks to Iarin’s mastery, it wasn’t overly impressive—still, it was enough for Park Jinseong to perceive it faintly.

“Brother, why are you rolling your eyes? Are you searching for our cute Asha?”

Yet, despite her emotional display, Iarin spoke to Park Jinseong with her usual cheerfulness. She seemed to hate revealing her concern for him, as if she were bashful about familial love and affection.

“Our cute Asha was taken away by a rabbit. She broke it, but like a sleepwalker, she suddenly approached Ella, shouting, ‘How dare you intimidate my sister? I didn’t raise her like that! I’ll imprint my dignity as a lady upon my underqualified little sister!'”

Iarin chuckled as she recalled that moment.

“Ella ultimately couldn’t take it anymore and tried to peel Asha off her back, but oh my. I don’t know if the attack was a sleepwalking thing or if Asha fell asleep while attacking. She fell asleep while still on her back. I can’t express how many sighs Ella let out… and so she headed to the bedroom with sleeping Asha on her back….”

Iarin paused there and glanced intently at Park Jinseong.

“Brother. Why are you silent? Are you still not awake? Like Asha… could it be…?”

She approached Park Jinseong, displaying a worried expression.

Her face contained the heartfelt concern of a sister for her brother.

But Park Jinseong waved his hand slightly, as if saying to stop.

“Focus on the strength in your fingers instead.”

“Eh? Wow, you’re like a ghost, Brother.”

Iarin giggled at Park Jinseong’s remark, loosening the tension in her fingers.

To be precise, she returned her fingers, which had been shaped to flick him, to their normal state.

“But how did you know I was about to flick you?”

“Seems like all you warriors from Seoul Specialization High School have that tendency. Especially those martial artists who fight with counterstrikes.”

Is it evil and an ill practice?

Or should it be called a natural technique ingrained from training days in school?

Martial artists from Seoul Specialization High School often used flicks to jolt their opponent’s mind. Their control over force was so spectacular that they could deliver pain that jolts the mind without causing visible swelling… it could easily be considered a perfected technique.

“Brother. But when you suddenly collapsed, I was so taken aback. What in the world happened? It doesn’t seem like you used any magic, but you just fell down suddenly! Do you have any idea how startled I was after saying don’t worry and then suddenly collapsing?”

Iarin’s face brightened with joy upon realizing Park Jinseong had awakened, but she couldn’t help but ask curiously.

Though the excitement in her curiosity didn’t seem particularly high.

It looked like Iarin had already determined in her mind that Park Jinseong’s collapse was due to having used magic and suffering a strange cost, or perhaps it was because he overexerted himself in his weak state.

Or it could be that he fainted due to the cost of using magic to save Anastasia.

“It’s nothing much. Just the rudeness of a host who couldn’t wait after sending an invitation.”

Thus, Park Jinseong didn’t elaborate on his explanation.

He only explained the cause of his collapse flatly and briefly.

Iarin nodded as if she understood, even though she didn’t comprehend at all.

Then she looked at him with pure, innocent white eyes.

Not surprisingly, those eyes bore no signs of intelligence or enlightenment.

Iserin sighed softly at her twin sister’s innocent demeanor and looked at Park Jinseong.

Then, she slowly opened her mouth to speak.

“A price must be paid for those who violate the customs of hospitality; thus, the absence of xenia is akin to the desecration of the divine….”

She sounded remarkably like she was reciting a prophecy.

Her demeanor, as if she knew what transpired in the collective unconscious, was oddly divine.

It gave off an aura distinct from that of tainted humans.

“…It feels like that’s what you wanted to convey, brother…?”

But that atmosphere quickly vanished.

Her divinity dissipated, and Iserin reverted to her previous demeanor.

A semblance of a faint gloom and suspicion emerged.

Speaking in a strangely elongated tone with a dwindling voice, she embodied the ‘Iserin’ from everyone’s memory.

‘Intuition, star.’

As Park Jinseong observed Iserin’s appearance, he contemplated.

What she just said didn’t stem from knowledge of events occurring within the collective unconscious, nor was it derived from any powers or insights. It was akin to a sixth sense—the same intuition he previously experienced.

‘A person climbing a mountain cannot see the summit clearly, even when looking up. The dense trees conceal the view, the radiance of the sun dazzles the eyes, obscuring sight, while the winding path makes one feel lost about when they might reach the top, weighing upon the heart. However, one who stands at the peak can see those below clearly. Perhaps Iserin’s form of intuition is akin to this.’

Position.

Or hierarchy.

The difference in elevation creates differences in intuition.

Park Jinseong couldn’t shake that thought away.

‘Strange and wondrous.’

Suddenly, Park Jinseong recalled.

The flame wielder who had been exploring the collective unconscious and relentlessly studying it.

Perhaps Ashtosh Singh was wandering through the collective unconscious, searching for a way to elevate himself.

Or maybe, ultimately, Ashtosh Singh’s goal was aligned with Park Jinseong’s own.

Transcendence.

Ashtosh Singh aimed to become one with the divine.

While Park Jinseong sought the means through magic.

Even if the names and forms feel different, they are nonetheless similar.

As the principle of all things converging into one suggests, perhaps the greatest purposes do indeed converge.

The only difference being that for Ashtosh Singh, transcendence was the end of his goal, while for Park Jinseong, it was merely a means to an end.

To learn magic.

To master magic.

For magic, solely for the sake of magic.

‘Magic and the collective unconscious…’

A connection surfaced.

The materials that Anael had shown him.

…

…

4. Research on the benchmark of magic

: This study begins with the discovery that only humans can use magic.

5. Consideration of the conditions of ‘human’ based on the collective unconscious
: A consideration of the conditions by which the collective unconscious recognizes ‘human.’

…

…

Only humans can wield magic.

The collective unconscious only permits humans.

Magic and the collective unconscious….

There seems to be an odd relationship.

‘Having wandered and wandered again, perhaps the answer lies in the past.’

How long had he been searching for a clue to transcendence?

How long had he been greedily hoarding magic, materials, and divine objects to learn magic?

But even when he wanted to move forward, the path was severed, and so he wandered and wandered again, the time spent lost felt eternal.

Yet now, he has returned, with time twisted back to the past.

The severed path has linked once more, and the wasteland shines with resplendent greenery, paving a way ahead.

Park Jinseong felt a certain flow.

It felt as though something aimlessly wandering had found its way back, akin to a clock that had long stopped starting to move again.

Even should he find the way, it may be ambiguous but would take on a direction.

The clock may seem broken, moving slowly or stopping intermittently, but it will eventually resume normal movement, displaying the correct time.

This signifies a particular flow.

This signifies a specific rationale.

Like the grand scene he witnessed while performing a magic ritual at the end of life.

‘Just as scattered celestial bodies revolve and align.’

Park Jinseong murmured internally.

I shall transcend.

For magic.

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