A monster that looked like a crossbreed of a tiger and a small golem made of stone and flesh lunged at a young man. The man, wearing a simple white tunic, had long white hair, a red scarf, and a red blindfold; he didn't seem to waver at the presence of the beast.
The beast launched itself with a roar that shook the very air. Its stone claws reached for Jumong's throat, but the young man remained a pillar of unnatural stillness.
As the monster's shadow fell over him, Jumong did not retreat. Instead, he took a single diagonal step forward—so precise it placed him right inside the creature's guard. His gaze behind the blindfold remained fixed on a single point on the monster's chest where the golem's flesh met the tiger's hide, his white hair barely stirred by the wind of the beast's passing.
Before the monster could adjust its weight, Jumong's hips pivoted with the force of a released spring, and his hand trailed upward in a blinding white arc. There was no sound or impact except for the air being sliced thin.
The stroke passed through the creature's stone-plated neck as if the rock were mist. Jumong did not hesitate and completed his rotation, his white tunic fluttering like a dying wing as he glided past the beast's flank.
The monster landed hard, its momentum carrying it forward for three more steps before its internal logic failed. A thin, luminous line appeared across its throat, glowing with the heat of the strike's friction. With a hollow, grinding sound, the golem-tiger's head slid from its shoulders, the stone shattering into dust before the body even hit the ground. Jumong stood with his back to the remains, flicking his wrist once as if shaking a drop of water from his fingertips. His red scarf brushed his face as the air pressure returned to normal.
He had already "experienced the world," just as Elder Lee said, but where was the Iron Lotus Pagoda? If he were to count, he had been on this journey for a month now.
A month was little time to find such a secretive place, and he had not even started traversing into other realms. But Jumong was an impatient being; he knew that much.
Jumong frowned as he walked on the hot sand. Currently, he was in one of the most dangerous regions of the First Realm: The Fruitful Desert.
He chuckled at the stupid title humans from his realm had given the region, but he could not argue with them. This desert was filled with its own mysteries.
He stopped and looked ahead. All he saw was the boiling sun somewhere far in outer space and more galloping hills of hot sand.
How could he see through the blindfold?
If there was one thing he knew, it was that any path led to the mysterious pagoda. No matter what route one took, as long as one had experienced the world, getting to the pagoda was simple.
But it was easier said than done. "Any route" also meant a long, dire journey looking for a place where, arguably, no one had ever been.
Jumong understood the logic well.
The logic of the world was simple, yet cruel. The Pagoda didn't exist at fixed coordinates of longitude or latitude; it existed at the center of one's own martial realization. To find it, one had to "bleed" the world into their soul until the two were indistinguishable.
Still, the words "bleed" and "experience" were as vague as they sounded to Jumong.
"Experienced the world..." Jumong muttered, his voice raspy from the dry heat. "I've killed its beasts, drunk its bitter waters, and walked its loneliest paths. How much more of this 'experience' do you require, Elder Lee?"
A season later...
Another beast landed on the ground, lifeless.
Currently, Jumong was in a region of the Fifth Realm: Still Water.
He moved across the water and rested his back against a tree, his blindfold still on his face. Jumong believed seeing through souls was the best way to experience the world.
It was a strange idea, but it had turned out well. Now, he could notice a creature far away through the movements of Qi.
The shift from the scorching sands of the Fruitful Desert to the crystalline silence of the Still Water realm had happened in a season, yet for Jumong, it felt as though he had walked through a lifetime in the blink of an eye.
"Three months in the desert. Four in the Frozen Maw. Now... here," Jumong whispered, his voice barely a ripple. "Every realm is a different kind of cage."
He stared at the Still Water. For some reason, he believed he would be back here. He felt he was still going to do something extraordinary and epic in this place. He didn't know what, but he just felt that way.
"What a way to feel... weakest dragon," he hissed and stood up. He turned to the tree and began flicking his pinky finger against the bark.
He then turned and continued his journey; behind him was a drawing of a traveler and a dragon.
He stopped again and looked at the region.
What exactly was going to happen to him here?
Years passed, and Jumong traversed more regions, battling more obstacles—both human and monster.
Years bled into decades, and the white of Jumong's hair began to feel less like a trait and more like a testament to the time he had devoured.
Jumong stood now at the edge of the Tenth Realm, in a region made of large, hollow mountains. Before him was a vast, empty canyon that shouldn't have existed. He stopped, his boots hovering a hair's breadth above the ground.
He reached up, his fingers trembling slightly, and untied the knot of his red blindfold.
For the first time in years, Jumong opened his eyes. They weren't just crimson anymore; they were now swirling nebulae of white and gold, reflecting the experience of ten worlds. He didn't look at the horizon. He looked at the emptiness in front of him.
"I see it now, Elder Lee," he whispered. "The Pagoda isn't a place you find. It's the place you create when you have nowhere left to go."
He stepped into the empty air of the canyon. But he didn't fall.
Under his feet, the air groaned and crystallized. A massive iron petal, rusted yet divine, manifested out of the void to catch his step. Then another, and another. The Iron Lotus Pagoda was assembling itself around him, triggered by the sheer density of his realized soul.
He had reached the Iron Lotus Pagoda.
.....
Mason's dream ended.