The Hidden Strength

The forest stretched endlessly before Joon Ha, a maze of towering trees and whispering leaves. He moved through it with purpose, his steps steady despite the burden of exile that pressed on his shoulders. Each day in this wilderness was a test—a challenge that stripped away the comforts of his past life and demanded something new from him.

And he was willing to answer.

Ha-Yoon had once joked that he had the stubbornness of a king, but now, as he pushed his body beyond its limits, he wondered if stubbornness alone would be enough.

From a distance, he heard Ha-Yoon laughing—her voice light, effortless, as she helped the village children with their schoolwork. For her, this life had become a temporary chapter, something to adapt to and embrace. For Joon Ha, it was a battlefield.

"You're pushing too hard," she told him one evening, watching as he wrapped his hands after another brutal training session.

Joon Ha shook his head. "I can't afford to be weak."

Ha-Yoon sighed. "Being strong doesn’t mean destroying yourself."

Before he could respond, an unexpected visitor arrived—the old hermit who had been watching them from afar. His gaze settled on Joon Ha, unreadable but piercing.

"You wish to rebuild, but have you learned to endure?" the hermit asked.

"I’ve endured more than you can imagine," Joon Ha replied, his voice firm.

The old man nodded. "Then prove it."

He gestured for Joon Ha to follow, leading him to a clearing where a massive tree stood, its roots deep, its trunk thick with scars of time.

"Strike it," the hermit instructed.

Joon Ha frowned but obeyed. He drove his fist against the bark, the impact jolting up his arm. Again, and again, he struck, ignoring the sting, the numbness that crept into his fingers.

"Good," the hermit murmured. "Now, push against it."

Confused, Joon Ha pressed his palms against the tree and pushed with all his strength. But the tree did not move. Not even an inch.

The hermit chuckled. "You see? No matter how strong you think you are, there are forces that will not yield. Strength is not in how hard you hit but in how well you stand your ground."

Joon Ha stared at the tree, realization dawning upon him.

The lesson haunted him long after the hermit left.

That night, as he sat by the lake with Ha-Yoon, the wind carrying the scent of damp earth and pine, he finally admitted, "I don’t know if I’m strong enough."

Ha-Yoon glanced at him, a small smile playing on her lips. "You are. You just don’t see it yet."

She reached out, placing a hand over his bruised knuckles.

"Strength isn’t just about fighting, Joon Ha. Sometimes, it’s about knowing when to stop and when to endure."

The moonlight reflected in the water, casting a glow around them. He still had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt something stir deep inside him—the will to rise again.

Shloka/श्लोक/절

उद्धरेदात्मनाऽऽत्मानं नात्मानमवसादयेत्।

आत्मैव ह्यात्मनो बन्धुरात्मैव रिपुरात्मनः॥

Uddhared ātmanā’ātmānaṁ nātmānam avasādayet।

Ātmaiva hyātmano bandhura-ātmaiva ripurātmanaḥ॥

우다레드 아뜨마나아뜨마남 나아뜨마남 아바사다예트।

아뜨마이바 햐아뜨마노 반두라아뜨마이바 리푸라아뜨마나하॥

"One must lift oneself by one’s own efforts and should never bring oneself down. For the self is its own friend, and the self is its own enemy."

"사람은 스스로를 향상시켜야 하며, 결코 자신을 좌절시켜서는 안 된다. 자기 자신이 가장 좋은 친구이자, 가장 큰 적이다."

Like Rama during his exile, Joon Ha learns that true strength is not about striking back but standing firm. The world may test him, but only he can decide whether to rise or fall.

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