“Living…”

  Olde repeated softly.

  “So all these years I’ve clung to prayer and recitation—

  and even the melody itself, I sang it wrong.”

  He gave a quiet laugh.

  “And the ones who were simply living their lives…

  were the ones who remembered what it originally sounded like.”

  He paused for a moment, as if tasting the thought.

  “How ironic… truly ironic.”

  After a while, he looked up at Arl.

  “Tell me—would that count as a kind of listening?”

  His voice had lowered slightly.

  “If they simply sing the prayer with that kind of feeling…

  would the divine beast give the same echo?”

  He glanced toward the faded stone markings.

  “Or perhaps—

  awaken again?”

  Arl shook her head gently.

  “I wouldn’t know.”

  She paused.

  “The best way would be to verify it.”

  Olde frowned slightly.

  “Verify it?”

  The idea seemed to strike him as absurd.

  “Bring them here?”

  His voice rose unconsciously.

  “This place is somewhere I spent years earning the right to enter—

  through divine cleansing and trials.”

  He looked at Arl, unable to hide a trace of resistance.

  “And you would let ordinary people—

  who’ve never experienced those trials—

  step into a sacred place like this?”

  Arl lifted a hand and pointed at herself.

  “But I’m an ordinary person too.”

  Her tone remained calm.

  “I’ve never gone through the cleansing you described.

  Nor those trials. Right?”

  Olde froze for a moment.

  “You… ordinary?”

  He seemed caught by the question, unsure how to answer.

  Arl frowned slightly instead, as if she truly didn’t understand.

  “Isn’t that the case?”

  She looked at him.

  “You’re human too. You’ve just experienced more things.”

  She paused.

  “Does that stop someone from being ordinary?”

  Olde fell silent for a moment.

  Then he shook his head.

  “No.”

  His voice became firm.

  “You’re different.”

  Arl blinked.

  “How?”

  Olde looked at her.

  “When you came in—

  didn’t you see those mechanisms?”

  Arl thought about it.

  She did remember.

  “Yes.”

  Her answer was casual.

  “Those beast-like machines. And the miasma.”

  She paused, then added:

  “So I went back first.”

  Olde froze.

  “…Went back?”

  “Mm.”

  Arl nodded.

  Her tone sounded completely natural.

  “I went back to prepare a few things. Then I tried again.”

  She thought for a moment.

  “After confirming it was safe to enter, I came in.”

  The chamber fell silent.

  Olde stared at her.

  His expression looked like someone had just told him that the mountain he had spent twenty years climbing—

  had always had a small path beside it.

  Arl tilted her head.

  “Is that surprising?”

  Her voice was calm.

  “I just wanted to come in.

  When I saw obstacles, I looked for a way to deal with them.”

  She lifted a hand slightly.

  “Then I tried acting on it.”

  She paused.

  “And eventually… I arrived here.”

  Olde frowned.

  He felt as though he understood this girl even less.

  “The machines didn’t attack you?”

  “Attack?”

  Arl frowned slightly.

  As if noticing something different.

  She looked at him.

  Then thought for a moment.

  “When you leave—

  do they attack you?”

  She paused.

  “So that’s why you can’t leave, right?”

  Olde nodded.

  “That’s correct.”

  His voice lowered.

  “That’s why I said you couldn’t possibly be an ordinary person.”

  Arl fell silent briefly.

  Then she realized something.

  What she had experienced—

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  was not the same as Olde.

  She exhaled softly.

  “I see.”

  She looked at him.

  Her voice carried no mockery or pride.

  “No wonder you couldn’t understand what I meant by ‘ordinary person.’”

  Olde tilted his head slightly, still confused.

  “What do you mean?”

  His tone carried a hint of urgency.

  Arl looked at him calmly.

  “When you go out, the machines attack you.

  When I came in, they didn’t.”

  She paused.

  “That’s really all there is to it.”

  “Our experiences are different, so our ways of understanding are different. That’s why we couldn’t match each other’s words earlier.”

  “They didn’t attack you?” Olde’s eyes widened.

  “The machines disguised as ancient predators wander outside the temple in groups.”

  His voice carried disbelief.

  “And you’re saying there were none?”

  “That many?” Arl frowned slightly instead.

  She began thinking about something else.

  —Then how would she leave?

  Olde stared at her.

  “How did you enter, child?”

  Arl didn’t hide anything.

  “I passed by a lake.”

  She answered simply.

  “After returning the wooden piece, the path opened.”

  “A lake?”

  Olde’s memory stirred.

  “The colored lake?”

  That was the only place he could match in his memory.

  “But isn’t that place… supposed to require trials?”

  He looked at Arl.

  “You passed them?”

  Arl froze briefly.

  “Those were trials?”

  She thought about it.

  “I just walked through.”

  She genuinely didn’t know the path she had taken was called a trial.

  Olde fell silent.

  As if rearranging pieces of a puzzle.

  “No wonder you never encountered the machines.”

  He murmured.

  Then his gaze returned to her.

  A trace of irony appeared in his tone.

  “But how will you leave?”

  He gave a dry laugh.

  “Will you stay here and keep me company?”

  Arl shook her head.

  “Maybe I’ll need some time to find a way.”

  She said calmly.

  “But I believe I can get out.”

  Olde’s gaze darkened slightly.

  “You think I never tried?”

  Arl looked at him.

  Unmoved by the question.

  “Just like you never imagined—”

  She paused.

  “that I would come in.”

  Silence filled the chamber.

  Olde suddenly realized he no longer knew how to continue speaking with her.

  No matter what he said, no matter how he tried to explain—

  his words seemed unable to shake her even slightly.

  It was as if fate had already written something,

  and she simply walked her own path step by step.

  It reminded him of the past.

  If…

  If he had been like her back then—

  would Dunk still have prospered?

  Or when he once debated with the men of the tribe—

  what if someone had opposed him?

  Even just one person.

  Olde suddenly understood.

  Back then, he would probably have believed even more strongly—

  that the whole world was wrong.

  And only he was right.

  He could not be like Arl.

  Steady. Unwavering.

  “Child…”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  Arl interrupted.

  “I know compared to you, I’m young. But I have a name.”

  She looked at him calmly.

  “My name is Arl. Just call me Arl.”

  Olde fell silent for a moment.

  “Arl.”

  He finally changed.

  “I want to ask you something.”

  His voice lowered.

  “Have you… never truly placed my words into your own thinking?”

  He truly wanted to know.

  Why—

  why this girl was so different from everyone he had ever known.

  Arl was silent for a moment.

  As if deciding how to answer.

  “I heard you.”

  She said.

  Olde’s eyes shifted slightly.

  Arl thought again.

  Then added:

  “Only—”

  She lifted her head.

  Her voice remained calm.

  “I didn’t choose to follow.”

  Olde watched her quietly.

  “You… never waver?”

  His voice lowered.

  “Or feel fear?”

  Arl smiled slightly.

  “Do I look like that kind of person to you?”

  She thought for a moment before answering honestly.

  “When you said there were many machines outside—”

  She paused.

  “I was afraid too.”

  Her tone remained calm.

  “I do feel fear.”

  She glanced down at her hands, then raised her head again.

  “But I realized something.”

  “Instead of letting fear sit there and grow bigger—”

  “it’s better to do something.”

  Her voice stayed soft.

  “Because action is usually the direction where you find an exit.”

  Arl paused as if remembering something.

  Then added:

  “And…”

  She smiled slightly.

  “I’ve practiced this many times.”

  “Starting from small things.”

  “You get used to it.”

  Olde watched her.

  Then suddenly said,

  “Then how about this—come outside with me.”

  There was a trace of testing in his voice.

  “Let’s go look outside the temple. At the machines wandering there.”

  He stared at her.

  Waiting for a reaction.

  “I’d like to see whether you really are the way you say you are—”

  He smiled faintly.

  “Someone who acts.”

  “Or whether you’ll eventually…”

  His voice lowered.

  “accept fate.”

  Arl simply nodded.

  “Alright.”

  Her tone remained calm.

  “Reality is usually less frightening than imagination.”

  She looked at him.

  “Thank you for being willing to show me.”

  Olde said nothing more.

  He simply turned and walked out of the stone chamber.

  The corridor stretched outward beyond the chamber.

  For the first time, Arl could truly see the interior of the temple.

  The stone walls were ancient and heavy.

  Fine cracks spread across the surface like marks left by time.

  Yet the structure remained firm.

  Faint patterns were carved into the walls—ancient totems barely visible between firelight and the pale daylight filtering in.

  The ground was clean.

  Almost no dust.

  As if someone had maintained this place for many years.

  Along the corridor were simple things.

  A repaired water jar.

  A stack of dry firewood neatly placed in a corner.

  And an oil lamp made from old metal parts.

  They looked less like ritual objects.

  More like pieces of life.

  Arl walked quietly.

  Her gaze moved slowly across the surroundings.

  From the chamber, the temple had felt narrow and enclosed.

  But outside it revealed itself as much larger.

  The corridors stretched section by section.

  The arched ceiling gradually rose higher.

  Light slowly grew brighter.

  In some places the roof had cracked open, allowing sunlight to fall in slanted beams, forming patches of pale gold on the floor.

  The temple looked worn.

  Yet strangely orderly.

  Like a place long forgotten by the world—

  but still quietly guarded by someone.

  Arl didn’t ask.

  She could guess.

  Olde walked ahead.

  His steps were steady, but slow.

  Like someone guiding the way—

  or walking through the years of his own life.

  At the end of the corridor—

  the temple’s massive gate appeared.

  It was tall.

  Far taller than a person.

  The stone was ancient and heavy.

  Clearly it had not been opened in a very long time.

  Olde slowed.

  The closer he came,

  the more his stomach churned.

  He remembered that defiant attempt long ago—

  the one that had nearly cost him his life.

  Metal tearing.

  Shadows closing in.

  And the humiliating retreat back into the temple.

  His fingers tightened slightly.

  Yet he kept walking.

  Part of him suddenly wanted the girl behind him to see it.

  Some things—

  could not be changed simply by believing.

  Sometimes fate was simply like that.

  Impossible to resist.

  Impossible to escape.

  And if she could not leave either…

  A thought crossed Olde’s mind.

  At least—

  he would not be alone in this temple anymore.

  The thought startled him.

  It felt like

  a small,

  shadowed kind of relief.

  He stopped before the gate.

  His palm pressed against the cold stone.

  Behind him, Arl remained silent.

  She did not urge him.

  She simply waited.

  Olde took a deep breath.

  Then pushed.

  The stone gate groaned open.

  Dust fell from the seams.

  Light spilled inside.

  For a moment, his eyes narrowed.

  He had grown unused to it.

  The outside world was not what he expected.

  No machines lunging forward.

  No tearing metal.

  Only wind.

  A wind carrying the scent of soil and grass from deep within the forest.

  Arl watched quietly.

  Olde stood at the threshold.

  Like someone who had not left a room in many years—

  suddenly standing in the doorway.

  His steps felt heavy.

  The forest stretched quietly beyond.

  Sunlight rested on the leaves.

  Everything looked…

  too calm.

  His brow furrowed.

  This wasn’t right.

  Back then—

  those things had wandered right outside the gate.

  Like predators smelling blood.

  But now—

  nothing.

  Arl stepped beside him.

  “What’s wrong?”

  Olde didn’t turn.

  “It wasn’t like this before.”

  Wind rustled the grass.

  Still nothing appeared.

  “Then will you go out now?” Arl asked.

  Her voice was calm.

  No urging.

  No expectation.

  Just returning the choice to him.

  Olde didn’t answer.

  The path he once feared now lay quietly before him.

  Waiting.

  But Arl’s gaze had already passed beyond the tree line.

  She paused.

  In the distant grass—

  two faint metallic reflections.

  She saw them.

  But said nothing.

  Instead she turned back to Olde.

  “If you’re not sure, you can stay inside.”

  Her tone was gentle.

  “We can close the door.”

  Olde froze.

  “Then what about you?”

  Arl glanced outside.

  “I’ll go take a look.”

  She paused.

  “I still need to return to the temple afterward anyway.”

  She said it naturally.

  As if it were simply on the way.

  The next moment, she stepped out through the temple gate.

  Arl turned back and looked at Vey, who had been quietly following behind.

  “Wait here, Vey.”

  Vey didn’t speak. Just like the time by the lake, he stopped where he was, watching as Arl walked toward the treeline.

  Wind drifted through the forest.

  In the distance, the grass shifted softly.

  Olde still stood at the doorway.

  He did not follow.

  Two machines emerged slowly from the treeline.

  Metal joints turning with dry, grinding sounds.

  Their movements were slow—

  but their direction clear.

  Toward her.

  Arl didn’t retreat.

  She simply watched.

  Her gaze moved across them.

  Head.

  Shoulders.

  Leg structure.

  The first machine’s right knee hesitated slightly with each step.

  The second had a visible crack along the shoulder plating.

  Arl glanced around.

  There was a slanted stone slope nearby.

  And a broken pillar.

  She exhaled softly.

  The first machine suddenly rushed forward.

  Heavy metal feet slammed against the ground.

  Arl stepped aside.

  The arm smashed into the earth.

  Stone fragments scattered.

  She retreated toward the slope.

  The second machine approached.

  Both turned toward her.

  Arl stepped backward onto the slope.

  Light footsteps.

  The first machine climbed after her—

  its heavy body losing balance slightly.

  In that instant—

  its knee joint locked.

  Arl moved.

  She pushed off a crack in the stone—

  leaping upward.

  A brief flash of cold light cut the air.

  She landed on the other side.

  The machine took two more steps.

  Then—

  a sharp metallic crack.

  Its knee collapsed.

  The heavy body toppled forward.

  The second machine turned toward her.

  The cracked shoulder armor rotated—

  revealing the core beneath.

  Arl saw it.

  No hesitation.

  She stepped onto the broken pillar—

  and flipped over its side.

  The flash of steel appeared again.

  Quick.

  Almost like an illusion.

  Then—

  the machine stopped.

  Its core severed.

  The metal joints slowly lost power.

  The body knelt.

  Then collapsed.

  Silence returned to the forest.

  Wind rustled through the grass again.

  Arl stood still.

  She watched the machines for a moment.

  Only after confirming they would not move again—

  did she brush the dust from her hands.

  Then she turned

  and walked back toward the temple.

  As if she had simply gone out to take a look.

  As if those machines

  had never been worth worrying about.

  Some wait for certainty.

  and discover the answer along the way.