Introduction: A Chance Encounter
The Great Master was said to be the wisest man in the ancient world. When he rose, wars ignited across the countries and blood flowed endlessly; when he remained still, strife subsided and peace and prosperity spread throughout the realms. Because of his immense influence, countless kingdoms sought his favor, hoping to secure his allegiance. Yet he was a man beyond reach—unyielding, untamable, strong of body, short of patience, sharp-tempered, and impossible for any man to endure.
At that time, war erupted once more between the Kingdom of Vilfideria and the Sultanate Kingdom—two of the oldest, richest, and most flourishing realms in existence. Their conflict was not born of yesterday; it was ancient, rooted in endless disputes and devastating battles. Victory had often favored Vilfideria, whose might, numbers, and powerful rulers allowed it to seize nearly two-thirds of the Sultanate's lands. It was only a matter of time before one banner would rise above both kingdoms, ending their long-standing strife.
Yet the will to fight burned fiercely on both sides, until the seventh war came to an end. Thousands of the weak and oppressed perished. Families were torn apart, bonds of kinship severed—brother slew brother, son slew father, and madness spread in every direction until it nearly erased the remnants of the oppressed.
In their desperation, the tyrant rulers sought wisdom—yet none among them possessed it. Thus, thousands of disciples flocked to the Great Master, begging for his guidance. He refused them all, accepting neither student nor follower. Instead, he wandered in sorrow over the state of the world, indifferent to all that surrounded him.
The Great Master had grown old, yet not a single worthy disciple had appeared to inherit his legacy. Madness had taken root in humanity, and their thirst for blood knew no bounds. All sought wisdom only to crush their rivals—and such a disciple, he would never accept.
For ten years, he remained in isolation within the Valley of Winds, lying upon the earth, wrapped in the sky, contemplating the stars that whispered tales of those who had passed before him.
One night, he took out his golden watch and brought it close to his lips, its edge brushing against his unkempt beard.
"You still tick… I will die, yet you will not."
The watch had been a gift from his own master—the greatest teacher of the land—who had once told him:
"When this ceases to tick, the world shall come to an end."
This golden watch was known as the Watch of Wisdom, a symbol of trust bestowed upon the one chosen to inherit the Great Master's knowledge. As long as it remained in his possession, it meant no one had yet proven worthy.
Then, one day, a young man arrived.
He was tall, broad-shouldered, with full cheeks and a faint golden complexion. His hair was black, his eyes deep and dark, lined as though with eyeliner. His teeth gleamed like polished pearls, his features handsome, his demeanor graceful and refined. There was an air of nobility about him, along with a readiness to learn. His movements were humble, his presence composed.
When he first beheld the Great Master, he removed his footwear, stood barefoot, and bowed deeply—then covered the Master's hand with reverent kisses.
The Master recoiled, pulling his hand away, a flicker of tension crossing his face. He studied the young man for a long time, as if trying to see beyond the mask of politeness and humility.
For an entire hour, the young man sat without moving, so still it was as though a bird perched upon his head.
At last, the Master spoke, his voice firm:
"Who are you… and what brings you here?"
The young man hesitated before replying softly:
"I am but a servant, son of a servant. The roads have forsaken me, so I came to you… though my true aim is God Almighty."
The Master scoffed arrogantly:
"young man, I have neither food nor water. Seek another path..."