It was late at night.
A tall, sturdy monk climbed the stone steps leading up a small hill. At its summit stood an ancient monastery.
The monk appeared to be in his sixties. Though faint wrinkles lined his face, he still retained a striking handsomeness. His physique was powerful, and his mere presence exuded an undeniable pressure.
Yet beneath that pressure was a calming aura that inspired a deep sense of security—like a great mountain capable of holding up the sky should it ever fall.
Within his eyes flickered a faint glint of royal majesty, commanding respect and obedience without a single word. He looked less like a monk and more like a king draped in the robes of one.
Over his shoulder, he carried something wrapped carefully in a blanket, while his other hand gripped a wooden staff.
The night was silent. The cries of cicadas and the rhythmic tapping of the monk's staff against the stone steps seemed to hold a quiet conversation as he ascended the hill.
At the top stood the monastery, old yet majestic, carrying the weight of countless years.
Spirituality filled the air on this seemingly desolate hilltop. One could feel an indescribable peace and tranquility.
Two monks stood waiting at the entrance.
The first was a slightly burly middle-aged man with kind eyes. The second appeared to be in his late twenties, possessing a youthful face and a well-maintained physique.
The two monks stepped forward to greet the elder monk.
"Sir, where did you go so late at night?" the burly monk asked.
The abbot smiled faintly.
"I suddenly felt the urge to take a stroll."
"Sir, what are you carrying?" the young monk asked.
The elder monk did not answer. Instead, he carefully handed over the bundle resting on his shoulder to the burly monk.
The moment the cloth was pulled aside, the monk's eyes widened.
"Amitabha... this is a child!"
The burly monk exclaimed in shock.
He quickly placed a hand on the child's forehead. His expression immediately changed.
"His body is burning up. He's running a high fever."
The young monk looked toward the abbot.
"Sir... this is?"
"I found him outside the orphanage while returning," the abbot replied calmly. "He was moments away from being attacked by a rabid dog."
He paused briefly before continuing.
"He is lucky that I arrived in time. Otherwise, he would have already become dog food by now."
"Tejo," the burly monk called out, "go wake the doctor. I'll take the child to the clinic."
"Yes!"
Tejo nodded and hurriedly turned to leave, but before he could take more than a few steps, the abbot's voice stopped him.
"After his treatment is complete, bring him to my study to rest."
The abbot spoke indifferently, before walking away without another glance.
Both Tejo and the burly monk froze in place.
The two exchanged bewildered looks, neither speaking.
After a brief moment, the burly monk carried the unconscious child toward the monastery's clinic, while Tejo rushed off to wake the doctor monk.
YOU ARE READING
The Eclipse Moons Grimoire: Lilith's Soft Whispers
FantasyA boy who wishes to be a girl dies in an accident and reincarnates in a world of gods and demons as the second son of the baroness with hidden past. His supposed mother disguises and raises him as a girl.
