— So that means… the Earth is round.
For his era, this thought was considered the worst, the most absurd thing a person could believe. Everyone was convinced the Earth was flat. "Well, since the ground looks flat, the Earth must be flat too," they'd say. It was comfortable, simple, and required no extra thinking.
But Unwan had no choice left except to trust his own reasoning.
— First, if any object is pulled toward Earth, it will always be dragged toward the center. Even if something falls elsewhere, over years, centuries... ...no, tens of thousands of years that place will still become the new center, or the planet will be destroyed. Since Earth existed long before humanity and nothing strange has ever happened, the Moon must be constantly pulled toward Earth's center.
Unwan paused for a moment. He took a slow breath, then continued.
— Second, this rule doesn't work at all for a square or rectangular Earth. Not only that, none of the earlier theories do. Because on a four-sided Earth, the corners wouldn't be pulled as strongly as the sides. But on our Earth, no matter where I stand, on this side or the far edge of the world, I'm pulled with the same force.
He fell silent again. It felt like Unwan was giving a speech to himself, waiting for his own mind to absorb the information. After a few seconds, he spoke again.
— The strangest part is that no shape fits all of this… except a sphere. Honestly, it's harder to believe, but no other shapematches. Even the Sun and the Moon are round, another example.
Though Unwan spoke confidently, even he did not fully believe it. After all, anyone who could clearly see the ground looking flat—why would they ever think the Earth was round? But Unwan didn't believe it out of faith; he proved it to himself with logic.
He tried to make it as precise as possible, as if his reasoning was some perfect tactic. Unwan smiled faintly, wondering what people would think if they ever heard this from him. Yet one thing was certain: even if Unwan explained and proved all of it, no one would believe him. They might even think he had gone mad.
— Hah… unfortunately I'll have to keep this secret. Hahaha… strange, isn't it? A person not knowing the shape of the very world he lives in.
But the laughter stopped there. Unwan's mind was already preparing to forget the chain of thoughts—just in a single day, without any preparation. Only the real, Unwan had already memorized most of it, and even repeated certain parts.
The Unwan in the dream, however, forced himself to stay serious and went through the information again. Then he prepared to head back to the orphanage.
The sun was almost down, the red sky slowly turning blue. The air cooled, hinting that night was beginning. From the orphanage, the caretakers' voices echoed, calling for Unwan.
Their voices didn't sound worried or sad more like, "Come if you want, or die out there, whatever." They simply didn't like him, no one liked him. And this had been the usual reality for nearly a year and a half. Sometimes Unwan himself left this place for days.
He stood up slowly, looked around, whispered "Until tomorrow," and began walking away. He pushed through the bushes and headed toward the wooden fences of the orphanage. A few candles had been lit, making it easy to find the path. He stepped out and approached the gate.
A man who had been sleeping there earlier looked at Unwan sluggishly and said:
— If you'd stayed out there a little longer, we'd have celebrated thinking you finally died.
'What? How touching.'
— Couldn't you, as the guard, have checked on me?
The man stared at him.
— Me? Go into that forest? Never. Even if you vanished there for weeks, I wouldn't step in. I don't know where you get that pride of yours, but I'd rather kill you ten times than go into those woods.
Unwan felt nothing. He was used to this. Nobody liked him. His absence was a blessing to them.
But the man wasn't lying. Forests were terrifying. No one could predict how many Night Creatures lived within. Most who entered never returned alive.
Yet this forest was strangely cursed or blessed. Not a single Night Creature ever appeared here. Not even regular animals. Only sometimes, a distant bird call broke the silence.
— Well, thanks for the warm welcome. Goodbye, old man.
Unwan walked inside. The man muttered something behind him, but Unwan ignored it. It was dinnertime, so he headed straight to the dining hall.
When Unwan entered, almost all the boys, girls, and caretakers were eating at two long tables. Some were still receiving their portions. Many eyes turned toward Unwan, but he didn't care. After two years, nothing about this felt embarrassing or uncomfortable anymore. Some people didn't even bother looking at him.
He approached the counter and received food from the same caretaker as in the morning. But the food looked exactly the same as breakfast, just porridge. He glanced at others' plates. This might seem rude to some, but this was about his meal.
— Everyone else has carrot stew. Where's mine?
— There wasn't enough left. You should've come earlier.
Unwan stared for a moment, then said:
— Then give me my lunch.
— Lunch is for kids who actually eat their lunch. Look at yourself, stick-boy.
It was true. Unwan often skipped lunch almost every day. He would be in the forest instead. Eating only twice a day wasn't enough to keep him full. Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, months into years… and Unwan grew thinner and thinner.
Irritated, Unwan grabbed his porridge and went to the table. Kids sitting nearby stared and snickered. Unwan ate with quiet anger.
He muttered under his breath:
— Instead of giving me food just to laugh at me, why don't you just dump me in the city? You'd finally have peace, you'd be happy, and you'd even save some food. Hah… 'not enough food', they say.
The boy next to him laughed and said:
— So what would you even do in the city? And besides… who'd want a nobody like you?
Unwan wasn't interested in who he was, but he felt forced to reply.
— At least I'd try to survive. Better than rotting here.
The boy snorted.
— Idiot. If you drop into the city, you gotta go to a Grimoire library, genius.