My son has changed recently.
Do-Gyeon-Woo, who used to be startled and react vividly whenever I played a prank, has grown bold enough to brush off my antics entirely.
In fact, he has even teamed up with his sister, Do Ye-eun, to make a fool out of me.
As a father, I was taken aback by this change in my son.
This was the same boy who used to listen to his parents without question, rarely expressing his own thoughts.
Now, he was showing a side of himself I hadn’t seen before.
It wasn’t a bad change.
In fact, it was a welcome one.
‘He’s become so much more energetic lately.’
Do-Sang-Jun, Do-Gyeon-Woo’s father, had been silently worried about his son.
While Gyeon-Woo had grown up to be kind and upright, his excessive kindness often led him to prioritize others over himself.
This hesitation to assert himself made him ill-suited for the Shingeom Doga, a competitive environment where children were pushed to outdo one another from the moment they could hold a sword.
Because of this, Gyeon-Woo was frequently overshadowed by his peers and ridiculed by some members of the family.
Sang-Jun still remembered the joy on his son’s face the first time he held a sword.
But over time, that joy had faded.
Now, every time Gyeon-Woo held a sword, tears followed soon after.
He was afraid—afraid of hurting others.
As a father, Sang-Jun tried to support his son, but nothing seemed to work.
At home, Gyeon-Woo would show a fleeting smile while practicing with him, but that smile disappeared as soon as he stepped into the swordsmanship center or returned to their family home.
But something changed when Gyeon-Woo entered fifth grade.
“He must have a crush on someone in his class,” Sang-Jun’s wife teased, her sly smile making her look more like a fox than a rabbit.
But Sang-Jun believed there was more to it than that.
This was the same child who had once been too afraid to swing a sword.
Yet now, he wielded it with confidence, as if taming a wild beast.
There had to be something deeper behind this transformation.
One day, while visiting the swordsmanship center, Sang-Jun met one of Gyeon-Woo’s instructors.
“Ah, you’re Gyeon-Woo’s father? I’ve been meaning to speak with you.”
“Oh? Please, go ahead.”
The instructor hesitated briefly before continuing.
“Recently, Gyeon-Woo got into a big fight with some of the other kids. Did you know about this?”
“… Gyeon-Woo? No, I didn’t.”
“Ah, I thought so. It seems he didn’t mention it to you.”
According to the instructor, Gyeon-Woo had fought several students during what was supposed to be sparring practice.
The fight had been one-sided, with Gyeon-Woo defeating all of them.
He had even used the name of their family to keep the instructor from intervening.
Sang-Jun was stunned.
“There’s no way my son would do that. If he did, there must have been a reason.”
“I understand how you feel, but—”
But Sang-Jun refused to accept the instructor’s words at face value.
Even with his recent changes, Gyeon-Woo was still a kind and considerate boy.
He wouldn’t hurt others without cause.
Determined to uncover the truth, Sang-Jun pressed the instructor for more details.
Eventually, the truth came out.
The boys Gyeon-Woo had fought weren’t innocent—they had been bullying him under the guise of harmless pranks for quite some time.
Sang-Jun’s blood boiled.
The instructor had turned a blind eye, dismissing the bullying as mere childish antics.
“Are you kidding me?!” Sang-Jun snapped, barely containing his anger.
He immediately reported the issue to the family and had the instructor dismissed.
“Father! I was wrong! It won’t happen again!”
“It’s too late for that. Get out of here. Go beg for forgiveness from my brother instead.”
Though Sang-Jun didn’t wield much power within the family, he wasn’t so powerless that he couldn’t deal with an incompetent instructor.
He also confronted his third brother, who had encouraged the bullying.
“The joke went too far. I’m sorry. I’ll make sure Seung-Woo doesn’t do it again,” his brother apologized, though his tone lacked sincerity.
Sang-Jun knew it was nothing more than a formality.
But despite his anger, Sang-Jun felt a deep sense of pride in his son.
Rather than continuing to suffer in silence, Gyeon-Woo had chosen to stand up for himself.
Though he still worried for his son, Sang-Jun now trusted in Gyeon-Woo’s strength and determination.
His son had changed—not just in boldness, but in his ability to fight for himself.
“Are you calling that an apology?”
“Then what else should I say?”
The voice on the other end of the phone was mocking, dripping with insincerity.
Do Sang-jun, having received this hollow apology from his older brother, was left with no outlet for his anger. He had to suppress it, no matter how much it boiled within him.
But on the other hand…
‘Yeah, this is how it should be.’
Despite everything, he was proud.
He was proud of Do Gyeon-woo for deciding not to live a life where he would constantly be hurt.
It was a turning point.
When Gyeon-woo had approached him and said:
“I want to experience real-life situations.”
Sang-jun had asked: “Practical ones?”
“Yes. I want to fight a monster.”
Hearing those words, Do Sang-jun couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride for his son.
Here was a boy who had vowed to grow stronger, to push past his limitations.
And so, despite knowing the risks, Sang-jun decided to take Gyeon-woo to the gate.
What followed exceeded even his expectations.
‘He’s better than I thought he’d be. I expected him to be scared and flustered, but he’s handling it calmly.’
Watching his son fight, Sang-jun couldn’t help but marvel at how much Gyeon-woo had grown.
Up until a certain point in his childhood, Gyeon-woo had been regarded as a prodigy.
He learned faster than his peers and demonstrated an innate understanding of the sword.
But as the years passed, hesitation crept in, and his confidence waned.
Now, it seemed that hesitation had vanished.
Gyeon-woo had reclaimed the skills that had once earned him the title of prodigy.
He had conquered the gate on his own, without anyone’s help.
Yet even amidst his pride, Sang-jun couldn’t ignore a creeping sense of unease.
‘This is too reckless.’
While Gyeon-woo’s skills rivaled those of his peers, he was still only twelve years old.
He was capable but not yet fully prepared.
He needed time to grow steadily, without rushing into dangerous situations.
“Huff, huff…!”
Sang-jun gritted his teeth as he watched his son battle a group of goblins.
Though Gyeon-woo managed to kill one, it was clear he was struggling.
‘He’s reaching his limit.’
An arrow fired by a goblin archer grazed Gyeon-woo’s elbow.
If he hadn’t dodged in time, the injury could have been far worse.
Sang-jun regretted bringing him to this gate.
‘I shouldn’t have let him talk me into this.’
At some point, Gyeon-woo stopped attacking altogether.
Now, he was only running, desperately trying to evade the goblins that surrounded him.
The fear on his face was evident.
“Branch Manager, wouldn’t it be better to intervene now?”
It was Bae Hong-chul, the supporter who had accompanied them into the gate.
“It looks like he’s lost his strength.”
Sang-jun hesitated but eventually nodded.
‘This might be the end for today.’
Though Gyeon-woo was avoiding the goblins’ attacks admirably, he resembled prey being chased by predators.
He had lost his will to fight, and the goblins were capitalizing on his fear, cleverly cornering him.
It was clear their hunt was nearing its conclusion.
Sang-jun decided it was time to step in.
He would stop the fight before things got worse and encourage his son for the progress he had made.
As Sang-jun prepared to act, he noticed something.
Gyeon-woo, who had been backing against a crystal with nowhere to run, suddenly exuded a different aura.
The atmosphere around him shifted.
“Hong-chul, wait.”
Bae Hong-chul looked at him in confusion.
“Should I not activate the protection spell?”
“Just wait a moment.”
Sang-jun’s instincts as a swordsman told him that something had changed.
He didn’t know what it was, but it was clear that the battle was heading in a direction the goblins hadn’t anticipated.
Sang-jun watched as his son’s posture transformed, exuding an unknown confidence.
<Suwangryu Attack Form, Fourth Form: Lion’s Slash>
As if he had predicted their movements, Gyeon-woo dodged the goblins’ attacks with precision.
Then, without hesitation, he leapt into their midst.
Pssh!
The goblins had no time to react.
With a single, fluid motion, Gyeon-woo’s sword pierced through one of them.
Sang-jun could hardly believe what he was seeing.
The boy who had moments ago been running in fear now moved with an assurance and decisiveness that bordered on mastery.
It was a movement incomparable to anything Gyeon-woo had shown before.
‘He’s awakened.’
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