On the day when the tagger goes blind - Chapter 1

Once upon a time, when tigers upheld the order of the mountains, and the Heavenly Emperor who created the heavens and the earth slumbered, there was a story that began in Oakryeong Mountain, lush with deep waters and towering pine trees. The mountain’s guardian spirit, Sanyeong, was at his wit’s end because of a man who had come rushing to him.

It happened after his usual morning routine of walking around Oakryeong Mountain. What had been a tranquil day of listening to the concerns of animals suddenly spiraled into chaos due to this visitor.

“So, what exactly do you want me to do?”

Sanyeong had grown alongside Oakryeong Mountain since it was just a small mound of dirt and rocks. Every drop of water and handful of soil in this mountain was like his child, his sweat and toil. Over the years, the spiritual energy that once resided in a small blade of grass grew larger as the mountain aged, and eventually, he took on the form of a human with arms and legs. It had been just shy of 300 years since he was recognized as a mountain god. Yet, in all those centuries, he had never encountered such an unreasonable man.

“This doesn’t seem to be my axe.”

“I’m telling you, that’s your axe.”

It was none other than the man who kept dropping his axe into the stream Sanyeong used as a bed. Judging by his load of firewood and shabby appearance, he was clearly a woodcutter. But whether he had heard some exaggerated rumor or was confusing Sanyeong with another mountain god, he was now demanding a gold or silver axe to replace his iron one.

Sanyeong felt utterly dumbfounded. This man repeatedly dropped his rusty iron axe into the stream, and every time Sanyeong retrieved it for him, the man would deny it was his. What could this possibly mean?

“Good grief.”

Sanyeong stood up abruptly, hands on his hips, and scolded the man. He couldn’t fathom how humanity had grown so corrupt. The world seemed to have lost its morals, leaving only scraps of greed and selfishness. Even with Sanyeong standing watch over Oakryeong Mountain, people hunted newborn deer, felled ancient trees to use as pillars for their homes, and disregarded the sanctity of the mountain. The passage of time had only added burdens to his shoulders, as the things he had to protect multiplied endlessly.

Long ago, Sanyeong had simply watched humans from the depths of Oakryeong Mountain. But over the years, he found it increasingly hard to remain a passive observer. A few years ago, he began stepping outside to intervene. He’d heard that not only Sanyeong but also the guardian of the neighboring Geumchang Mountain had recently started appearing to reprimand people who acted immorally.

However, as a mountain god, Sanyeong’s powers were limited to his domain. At most, he could play small tricks or cause mild discomfort to those who trespassed. Anything beyond that would harm the mountain itself, and as a protector of his domain, Sanyeong refrained from causing real harm.

Mountain gods were the will of the mountain. They were created from the mountain’s energy and sustained by it. If a spirit turned malevolent, the mountain would follow suit. A cursed mountain would have no humans, no animals, and its streams would run dry while its trees withered.

This principle applied to river gods, field spirits, and all other divine beings. Though there were varying degrees of power among them, all spirits were expected to maintain a kind and gentle heart. Sanyeong, the mild-mannered guardian of Oakryeong Mountain, was well aware of this. He often gifted precious ginseng to good-hearted herbalists and provided food and shelter to wandering merchants who lost their way.

But just look at the man before him now. From the beginning, there was something suspicious about him, as though he had no real intention of chopping wood. He seemed to spend more time dropping his axe into the stream than actually cutting trees.

At first, Sanyeong thought it was an accident and kindly retrieved the axe several times. But he soon realized the man had ulterior motives. Sanyeong had initially refrained from revealing himself, but as the man’s antics grew bolder, he finally appeared to give a warning. However, instead of reacting with fear or surprise, the man had looked as though he had been expecting him. That was when Sanyeong’s patience began to wear thin.

“My axe was made of gold,” the man insisted.

“Are you sure you didn’t drop that axe somewhere else?”

Sanyeong tried to reason with him, unwilling to harm a human even in his frustration. He was sitting cross-legged on the stream, meditating, when the man suddenly changed tactics. Instead of arguing further, he prostrated himself flat on the ground.

Though tempted to kick the infuriating back of the man’s head, Sanyeong held back, displaying the magnanimity befitting a mountain god.

“My father is gravely ill,” the man pleaded. “Oh great mountain spirit, please take pity on us.”

“Hmm…”

If it were true, Sanyeong might have felt sympathy. But all he could see were the man’s dry, calculating eyes. Spirits had an intuition that could perceive a person’s nature. Some people exuded warmth even without speaking, while others carried a cold, sharp aura no matter how kind their words seemed.

This woodcutter’s drooping eyes brimmed only with greed. Even if his father truly was ill, Sanyeong found it hard to muster any desire to help. The man, sensing Sanyeong’s reluctance, grew impatient and raised his head.

“Then give me a bride!”

“…What?”

What sort of absurd nonsense was this? At last, Sanyeong understood the reason for her growing irritation. The man’s glossy eyes were filled not only with greed but also with lust. The sharp, sour scent of his carnal desires stung her nose, and if that wasn’t enough, he dared to scan her with a slimy, lecherous gaze that even made a divine being like her feel queasy. Trying to remain calm, Sanyeong recited prayers inwardly, but she could feel anger bubbling within her.

If one were to nitpick, Sanyeong had the appearance of a woman. Whether a spirit was male or female mattered little to anyone, but occasionally, men with questionable morals saw female spirits as ladders to ascend to the heavens.

There were tales of men who roamed far and wide, eyes ablaze, searching for female spirits. They believed that marrying a spirit would allow them to ascend to the heavens one day and achieve greatness there. To Sanyeong, such notions were nothing but vain delusions. The heavens were busy enough managing their own affairs—why would they bother taking a spirit’s human husband for anything?

From Sanyeong’s perspective, these men were utterly useless, whether on earth or in the heavens. It was a lesson she had learned well: any man seeking a spirit’s favor for selfish gain was never of sound character. This greedy woodcutter might desire Sanyeong herself, but it was evident he was holding back out of fear of potential consequences.

Sanyeong felt a surge of indignation and was tempted to toss the man out of Oakryeong Mountain immediately. However, she held firm to her principle of granting humans one chance at forgiveness. Perhaps the man had temporarily lost his way, blinded by his father’s illness.

“Dolsoe.”

The man’s eyes widened like a startled rabbit, clearly surprised that she knew his name. Poor, clueless woodcutter. He didn’t realize that for a mountain spirit, discovering a human’s name was as easy as flipping one’s hand.

“Live virtuously, and blessings will come to you. I’ll let you go unharmed today, but from now on, do only good deeds. Then, fortune as precious as gold will find its way to you.”

Sanyeong spoke with the dignity befitting a spirit, believing that any man in his right mind would surely understand her words. However, the kind-hearted Sanyeong had overlooked one critical point: she had never encountered truly wicked people in her role as the guardian of Oakryeong Mountain, where villagers from the foothills often came and went. She did not believe humans could be so irredeemable.

Although the woodcutter was unpleasant to deal with, Sanyeong allowed him to take all the wood he had cut, even restoring his rusty axe to look brand new before sending him on his way. She believed that the more kindness she showed to people, the more the mountain’s reputation would grow.

The woodcutter didn’t offer a single word of gratitude, but Sanyeong still wished him good fortune. Since she likely wouldn’t see him again, she hoped his father’s illness would improve or that he would meet a strong-willed wife who could help him correct his wayward nature. The words of a mountain spirit carried power; even if she couldn’t cure his father’s illness, she might at least guide him toward a good relationship.

“Hm?”

A roe deer that had recently given birth brushed its face against Sanyeong’s leg. At first, she thought it was merely being affectionate, but the deer’s eyes were clouded with unease.

“The man left muttering curses under his breath.”

What a wretched thing. Sanyeong stood with her hands clasped behind her back, clicking her tongue in disapproval. A kind heart was the key to receiving blessings from the heavens. Those who sought rewards through opportunism only invited divine scorn. She didn’t need to intervene directly; a man like that was bound to ruin himself.

If he couldn’t appreciate kind words from a spirit who personally appeared to him, then no matter how many opportunities like that he received, he wouldn’t recognize their value. If he had at least cried and pleaded for his father’s life, perhaps Sanyeong might have been moved to act. But to be both foolish and malicious was a sin.

“Don’t worry. If he ever comes back, I’ll make sure he loses his way and gets driven out.”

Sanyeong stroked the deer’s back, soothing its concern. She spent the rest of the night wandering her domain, checking on the animals, before returning to the valley stream to fall into a deep sleep. A good rest was essential for warding off bad fortune.

It was a night when all things were deeply asleep. Even the gatekeeper of Wolseong, the celestial palace of the moon, was nodding off, his head drooping as he struggled to stay awake. In this peaceful stillness, a single malevolent presence stepped onto Oakryeong Mountain. The intruder walked on tiptoe like a thief in the night, moving stealthily but unable to conceal his ominous aura from the sharp senses of the mountain’s creatures.

The intruder’s steps paused just past the mountain’s entrance. Perhaps he was reconsidering the folly of venturing into the woods so late at night. But then, as the watching animals widened their eyes in alarm, flames suddenly fell from the intruder’s hand.

A small spark landed on the ground and was stamped out against the dirt. Sanyeong, who cherished every grain of sand on Oakryeong Mountain, awoke within the valley stream.

But it was already too late. The entrance to Oakryeong Mountain, where only the intruder’s footprints remained, was consumed by a blazing inferno.