The moon had once again smiled upon the Land of the Morning Calm. The temperature dropped into a negative as soon as the last ray of the sun disappears, and it had made the people go back earlier than usual in their warm homes. Winter already made its mark tonight with a small shower of snow, making the ground slightly whiter and covering the brown muddy ground to make it more pleasant. It has already been two months since the start of the training, but the captain still doesn’t let his troop go in for the war or even, let them help the first troop out. He always tells himself that they aren’t ready yet, but the truth is: he was the one who isn’t ready. Every night after training, the captain spends most of his time thinking when will be the right time to enter his troop for the war but no conclusion was made.

Meanwhile, Sandara spends her night sharpening the javelins they’re going to use for tomorrow’s training since sleep won’t get in her way. Occupying one of the empty logs gathered around the bonfire, she began to sharpen the javelins to ease her self off the nervousness. Anxiety, was, after all, slowly eating her up as time passes by with her successfully still in the Imperial army with the men not knowing her real gender and with the captain trusting her. Sandara was absently sharpening one of the javelins when someone whispered in her ear, causing for her to miss the javelin and cut her finger.

Blood rushed out of her finger and Sandara could only frown at the sight of it.

“Sorry,” The person who whispered in her ear said. “And it’s your fault. You’re spacing out while sharpening the javelin.”

Sandara looked up, irritation spread across her face and found herself staring at the magnificent jaw of her captain. He seemed to be unaware that his jaw was merely an inch from her face because it was still near, and to make matters worse, he looked down to look at her, making their faces in an approximation of one. Her captain raised a brow, obliviously and Sandara could only clear and turn her head to the opposite side, attempting to hide from him her already red face.

“I was just thinking about plans.” Sandara answered after a few seconds, nibbling her lip.

“What kind of plans?” Her captain asked again and she felt him occupy the empty log beside her. Sandara abruptly stood up with a sigh, faced him and her jaw almost fell on the ground. The bonfire illuminated his face perfectly, the light highlighting the contours of his face to make it more evident and it had made him twice as handsome as he already is. Sandara closed as quickly as she had opened it and her captain raised his brow in anticipation.

“What?” He asked.

Sandara stared at how his lips moved and she found herself slowly…

“What?” Her captain asked again, now louder.

Sandara woke up from her dream trance and stammered. “I-I was planning to take a bath. I-I was planning to relax after training.”

He laughed. “Then what are you doing sharpening javelins?” He waved his hands as if making her go away. “Go on!”

Sandara bowed lowly at him before retreating, and she was entering the road towards her tent when she heard a faint voice who called the captain, “Captain Ji!”

After Sandara gathered all of her bathing essentials and packed them in her knapsack, which she attached to her horse, she went quickly towards the small river near their camping site while riding her horse. It was empty, the small waves rippling the reflection of the moon on the water and Sandara admired how the water looked serene despite of the war.

She went off the back of her horse and stripped off her clothes after checking that she was alone. She then wrapped her body with her towel, covering the areas that need to be covered. Then she dipped in the water. Sandara sighed in relief. It was warm, relaxing and soothing. The warmth of the sun when it was still daylight was preserved well by the water. Sandara found herself going deeper in the river until the water was touching her chin. She was just starting to scrub her arms when she heard distant noises. Sandara, almost slipping, scrambled towards the back of a huge boulder to hide her and seconds after, one by one, her friends Top, Daesung, Seungri and Taeyang jumped in the bank.

They laughed heartily, splashing each other with the water and even wrestling with Top and Taeyang the only ones winning though. The water lapped and almost drowned Sandara, who was so low because she was hiding herself. She coughed first and then gagged loudly, unfortunately calling the attention of the others. They all turned to her in unison, beaming widely and Seungri greeted her in high spirits, “Oh Sanghyun!”

Taeyang went towards her and Sandara protected her chest by intercepting her hands on her chest, each hand to its opposite shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell us you were here?” He asked, grinning at her, his eyes beginning to smile also, turning into happy slits and Sandara, for a moment, thought it obscured his view of his surroundings.

“I-I’m finished cleaning so I’ll go on first.” Sandara said, talking in the manliest voice she could muster, but when she was about to swim towards the edge of the river, Taeyang grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards them.

“Come on,” He said. “Don’t leave on our account.”

Sandara gave them a reluctant smile, now protecting her chest with only one hand and watched as Seugnri swam towards the boulder at their front. He climbed it, and Sandara blushed when she saw that he wasn’t wearing a towel underneath.

Top laughed from her side. “He doesn’t really wear a towel when he’s in a public river, a sauna or even in a hot spring. He’s always showing his buck.”

Sandara grimaced as Seungri, now successfully on top of the boulder, placed his hands on his hips and shouted, “See the majestic side of the Buck King!”

All of the boys laughed heartily, but Sandara forced hers out, which made it sound like a snort. Seungri made a few weird poses before finally, to Sandara’s relief, jumped from the boulder. The water lapped and it smelled weird.

“Sorry,” Seungri said, now swimming towards them. “I farted.”

Sandara held up her breath.

While the boys were busy laughing, Sandara looked around and saw the familiar figure of Kris Wushu standing at the edge of the river. He was about six feet tall, free of his other two feet self and was wearing ridiculously an all-black chongsam. Kris was playing a flute and when he became suddenly aware that someone was staring at him, he looked up. Sandara quickly mouthed the words, Help me! but Kris only rolled his eyes for an answer. He was about to return into playing his flute when Sandara threw a rock, which pricked her right foot a while ago, at him. Kris rolled his eyes again and the flute vanished from his hands, leaving a small puff of smoke. The small puff of smoke began to recede as Kris’ features began to change. His hands started to become sharp claws, his smooth skin started to change into rough scales, his head began to transform into a long snout and his behind started to sprout a long reptilian tail. Instead of a two foot red dragon, he became a sixty foot tall intimidating red dragon. The boys had become suddenly aware of his presence, because Sandara felt them stir from her side and their breathing began to slowly heave.

“D-Dragon?” Seungri murmured from her back with a mixture of disbelief and fear.

Kris never did anything and just stayed rooted to his spot, scratching his big belly. When he turned to them with his fiery red eyes, Sandara thought the boys would shout their battle cry and charge at Kris as bravely as they are during training. For her astonishment, however, the boys cried, “Run!” in unison instead of “Charge!” and scrambled off from the bank, their wet towels clinging to their lower waist—except for Seungri—as they ran away from her. Sandara turned back to Kris, who scratched his over-large stomach again and rolled his intimidating eyes.

“You owe me a lot.” He said, shockingly in his normal voice and then he began to shrink. In wasn’t in Sandara’s surprise anymore that he chose his mundane form. He closed his eyes as Sandara scrambled off from the river and reached her horse, who whined angrily at her.

“I know,” She told her as she dried herself with a new towel. “I won’t do it again.”

She wore her undergarments first, wrapped her chest with a vest and then wore Sanghyun’s chongsam, which he owned when he was fifteen years old. Kris must’ve sensed that she was already done, because when she turned to look at him, he was already opening his eyes.

Kris disappeared, and then reappeared to her side. He tucked his flute inside his chongsam and began walking. Sandara unteethered An from the tree’s bark, grabbed her rope and ran to catch up with Kris. He emits a very mysterious aura all the time. Unlike humans, he does things slowly and he never shows fear. The only fear that Sandara saw him show was when they first met, when Kris recount the events of Tao’s death to her. Though his face looked calm, Sandara saw how his eyes dilated with fear.

Sandara forced herself to bob up and down as she walked to easen up the atmosphere, but Kris, without turning his head to her, said with incredulity, “Stop doing that.”

Sandara returned into the punishment of walking timidly, but after a few seconds, because she can’t help herself, she asked, “Did you perhaps helped my father too when he went into battle?”

It didn’t remain unnoticed by her when Kris’ calmness stirred momentarily, but he had regained his composure as quickly as he had lost it, and with the same calmness in his voice, he answered, “Yes, I did.”

A mixture of excitement and fear spreads across Sandara’s chest. Kris crossed his arms over his chest and slowed down his pace. Sandara took this action as an act of making the conversation longer.

Sandara wanted to stop asking because remembering her father’s death never did her anything good, but a part of her wanted to know why he died. For a soldier, he received too much blow and Sandara wanted to know why. Her father’s stealth rewarded him greatly all of his life—according to her mother—but it only backfired that day.

Sandara gulped and asked, “What really happened that day?”

Kris stopped walking and said, “I’ll tell you only if you ride on your horse.”

Sandara looked bewildered. “Why?”

“Just do it.” Kris said, insisting and commanding. Sandara hesitantly swung herself and fell on top An’s back. Only when Kris was sure she was safe on her horse’s back that they moved again.

“I won’t go over the other days, but instead tell you the day when he died.” Kris started and his voice sounded grim. “That day it was reported that there was an informer for North Korea in our base camp. Of course, naturally, we limited the information to only the high-rank officers to limit the information, but we never knew that Kwon Jinwoo was the informant of the opposing side all along.”

“Who’s Kwon Jinwoo?” Sandara asked immediately when Kris paused.

“He’s the father of Kwon Jiyong, your captain.” Kris answered. “You met him in your first day—thought you knew him—but of course, your father hid you his real occupation so it’s no doubt you don’t know him.”

Sandara remembered the dark brown eyes and the crinkled skin around it. The defiant soft smile that tells her the man knew her and the crooked nose that she remembered her father also has.

“Anyway, Kwon Jinwoo was never caught until the end of the war and how he was still trusted I don’t know. Moving on, your father was sent and an army of his own to a forest near the Pusan Perimeter to guard. But he didn’t know that the North Koreans were already there. Your father used his stealth, but a number of his army, who wasn’t rewarded of that talent, were slowly killed one by one by the North Korean soldiers until it was only half a thousand to one. My instincts of being a warrior just suddenly won me over—I was greatly frustrated by the idea of losing—and instead of guiding Woojin with the war he’s facing, I-I…” Kris sighed. “I possessed Woojin and fought in his stead. I killed more than half of the soldiers, never felt pain whenever bullets hit my body and I felt triumphant. But I didn’t realize that I was consuming Woojin’s body and soul slowly as I remain inside him. And before I was driven by my madness, Tao intercepted and replaced me before I die with Woojin. T-They both died.”

Sandara gasped and that was the only time she realized that she was holding her breath—that she was crying.

“I’m sorry.” Kris muttered.

“You expect me to forgive you?” Sandara harshly said, half-shouting. “You’re selfish! You stole a part of my life! I can’t believe you—of all people—did this! Why are you even here? Are you here to posses me now?”

Kris turned to her, calmness gone and instead was replaced by ferocious fear. “I am not—I didn’t mean to!”

Sandara sobbed. “I hate you!”

She didn’t need to command her horse. An had ran rapidly against the ground, her hooves thundering and Sandara didn’t turn to look at Kris again. She wrapped her arms around her horse’s neck instead and sobbed.

She feels sadder than she is before.

Sandara woke up earlier than she does and had given herself five hours of solitude. Kris wasn’t there when she woke up, and a mix of loneliness and anger spread all around her body. He was, after all, one of the sources of company and comfort while she was training.

Sandara decided to wear pants and a shirt instead of Sanghyun’s chongsam, and wore a Polartec jacket to make herself warmer. Her body clock tells her it was three o’clock in the morning, three hours away from sunrise and two hours away for the chicken to -a-doodle-do. She went outside her tent and found An sleeping while she was tethered against a Molave tree. Carefully, without making any noise, Sandara walked towards the river, barefooted despite of the winter cold.

Along the way, Sandara tied her hair up like how men tie theirs and pushed the strand left away from her face. It was bitterly colder near the river, but Sandara, who learned from her mother, knew it was warmer in the river. Upon reaching the water, Sandara sighed and her breath created a fog of smoke which circled the air fluidly. After the condensed gas disappeared, Sandara sat down on the edge of the river bank and dipped her bare feet in.

It was really warm since it was still three in the morning, and according to Science, water turns cold slower than ground does. Sandara sighed in relief and was about to succumb herself in the water when a very warm voice woke her up.

She jumped, when that person’s breath contacted with her nape and it was surprisingly warm given that a person’s body adjusts to the temperature of its surroundings. Sandara quickly looked up and saw her captain, Kwon Jiyong, smiling handsomely down at her.

Sandara was glad it was cold or he would’ve suspected why her face suddenly turned red. His face was contoured perfectly and his hooked nose complemented his face, making it manlier despite of some of his feminine features. Captain Jiyong smiled broader than before and asked, “Can I sit beside you?”

Sandara coughed and quickly answered, “Of course, sir.”

He laughed and Sandara felt different parts of her body tingle with the sound. When he spoke, she was sure that she was near into melting, “You shouldn’t speak so highly of me when it’s not training. You can call me Jiyong instead.”

Sandara bit her lip and replied, “Then you can call me S-San—I mean, Sanghyun.”

He laughed again. “Of course, what else could it probably be?”

Sandara tried easing up the mood. “Sandara?”

Jiyong snorted. “Of course, if not a boy’s name a girl’s name.” Then there was a short pause and he looked at Sandara. “Tell me, then, Sanghyun, do you have a sister?”

Sandara played with her feet, moving it up and then down and it had created small waves. “There is though older.” She answered, her face flushing since she was talking about herself. “She’s about your age though.”

“What’s she like?” Jiyong sounded curious, and had directed his gaze at the water now.

“I don’t know.” Sandara truthfully replied. “If there’s one thing I won’t understand, it’s her.”

“What about your father?” Jiyong countered. “He died when you were still in your mother’s womb right?”

Sandara felt something inside , making her unable to speak up. In these types of occasions, Sanghyun would always reply a firm “I don’t know about him.” or “I wish I had met him even for a second.” but she wasn’t him. Every time she is asked by this type of questions, she would cry and forget to answer audibly.

But instead of crying, Sandara chose to answer firmly, “My sister always talks about him.” Her voice croaked, but she was sure her answer sounded firm.

“Then what is he like?” Jiyong had asked again, more curious than before.

“Well,” Sandara cocked her head to the side. “She said he was very brave, standing up to a fight he knows he will lose given that he was outnumbered by 500 to 1. He was very caring and loving. He thinks of his family’s safety more than his own. And at the same time, he would always risk his life for the benefit of many.” She paused, trying not to cry. “I think he’s a hero.”

There was a short period of silence before Jiyong whispered, “Me too.”

Sandara was taken aback and she was about to retort something, but her words were trapped inside . Top and the others had told her already that Jiyong looks up to her father more than his own, but she didn’t think that he would think of him that greatly. Jiyong’s tone of voice was different from a person merely speaking highly of someone. He sounds like he thinks of Sandara’s father as his own father.

Sandara shifted, placing both of her hands between her thighs and Jiyong again said, “I mean, not just a hero but someone—“

Sandara cut him off. “I know.”

Awkward silence enveloped both of them and it had lasted for minutes before Jiyong spoke again, “You must’ve known one way or another about my father’s betrayal which made several—no, thousands of lives be taken. But it was before that when I started looking up to your father. He was the one who looked after me when I was still a kid and my father had to do his obligations as a general. I was very suple at him at first, but he was very patient. So I just kind of opened up to him and he became a father figure to me. When I learned about my father’s betrayal with the army I was very angry at him to the point that I didn’t consider him anymore as my father and before I knew it, my love went to your father instead, for his compassion for his job to the point that he gave up his life for the safety of many.”

“You know, if you would like,” Jiyong quickly added before silence enveloped them both again and scooted near to Sandara, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Sandara stiffened quickly and felt her cheeks burn up with the contact. Then Jiyong continued, “I can be your older brother while you’re here at camp as a replacement for your older sister. Besides, we both look up to your old man both father figure and career wise.”

Sandara nodded, and a thin veil of smoke escaped her lips once again when she lied, “Okay.”

After their conversation by the river, Sandara and Jiyong went back to the camp site. Since they still have mostly an hour before the morning training exercise starts, Sandara told Jiyong she was going to have a go with archery and to her utterless dismay, the latter told her he’s going to practice with her.

They marched off towards the erected logs near the ridges of mountains where they practice archery. Sandara went towards the logs to place the targets while Jiyong sharpened and readied the bow and arrows.

When Sandara was finished, she turned just in time for an arrow to zip past her left cheek. Because it was sharpened, it grazed her left cheek and left a wound that stretches near the edge of her lip up to her sideburns. Sandara touched the wound and found blood on her fingertips.

She looked up to look at Jiyong, who was smiling at her playfully and when she was about to shout at him, he quickly said, “I used to do this with your father! It was fun!”

Sandara was clueless as to why her father would do this kind of game with a kid, but then she quickly remembered when she used to play with her father: him shooting arrows at her as she dodges it while carrying two to three kilos of rice in each hand. She deemed it as fun that time.

Jiyong caught her face while it was still angry and immediately apologized, “Sorry Sanghyun! I thought, well, of course—“

Sandara laughed. She didn’t know why she did, but as long as the giggles erupted off from her stomach; it gave her comfort and made her light-headed. After a few seconds, she stopped and shouted back at Jiyong, “Of course I’m not mad. I was just perplexed by the—“

Another arrow shot past her, now at her right side, but luckily didn’t slice her cheek. Sandara raised a brow at the laughing Jiyong and quickly shouted, “Not fair! I thought we’re going to practice!

Jiyong raised both of his hands to admit defeat, though still laughing and Sandara ran towards him. Standing beside him, though a couple of inches away, she grabbed her own bow and slung a quiver loaded with arrows at her back.

Jiyong laughed. “You’re so much like your father.”

Sandara felt her stomach dip and she was quivering when she reached to her back to get an arrow. “Thanks,” She murmured a reply to him.

Sandara placed the arrow to her bow and stretched the wire, aiming for the apple dangling upon the third target. When she was sure the arrow was directed to the target, she released it quickly, but instead of the apple, the arrow made a projectile motion and hit the ground. Sandara grumbled.

Jiyong watched her as she tried, but missed several times with a sly grin on his face. Sandara, after her twentieth try, grunted and subconsciously removed her hair tie out of frustration.

“Sanghyun,” She heard Jiyong say beside her and Sandara quickly turned to him, her hair whipping in front of her face. “What?” She grumbled, her eyebrows stitched and her forehead creased.

Jiyong laughed again and Sandara found her heart beating wildly against her rib cage. “You’re doing it wrong.”

She rolled her eyes and mocked, “Then show me.”

Sandara forgot how to breathe again when Jiyong quickly went behind her and wrapped his arms around her shoulders, caging her with his strong muscular arms. She was sure it was just in a sibling-kind of action since Jiyong knows she’s a guy, but it was very awkward for her and too sublime. To make matters worse, Jiyong placed each of his hands to hers and Sandara’s mind became fuzzier than it had ever been.

Jiyong’s breath grazed her neck when he spoke right under her ear. “Relax your arms, stretch the bow lightly, but not too wide then release the arrow from your middle finger and ring finger gently.” When Sandara released the arrow, it spun and stabbed the apple right at its center—its core—and she was so overjoyed that she did it that she quickly spun her head around. She found herself looking at Jiyong’s wild dark brown orbs, petentiously looking at her as if he was hiding something.

Several footsteps alerted them both at once and Sandara shrugged Jiyong off from her quickly. When she heard Jiyong greet the newcomers, Sandara draw another arrow from the quiver and released it in at the same time when she whip her head towards them.

“Hi,” She croaked before the familiar stabbing of an arrow into an apple. Top and the others grinned at her, clapping.

“You’re really great at this.” Taeyang said, his eyes also smiling.

Sandara saw Jiyong raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms in her peripheral view. “It doesn’t seem that way a few minutes ago.” Jiyong said, jokingly.

Taeyang raised his eyebrows.

“You see,” Jiyong said, his arms spread as he pointed at Sandara. “Sanghyun has been trying to hit the apples for ten times, but all of his attempts were unsuccessful so I helped him hit the apples a while ago.”

Taeyang raised his eyebrows even higher and when he spoke, his perplexity was masked by his voice. “But Sanghyun always hits the target apples for practice and had never missed one.”

“Maybe because it’s the morning rustiness.” Top answered.

Taeyang raised his eyebrows again.

Jiyong looked at his watch and shook his head. “It’s nearly time for the morning training exercise. Come on,” He slapped Sandara on the back, too powerful that she nearly fall face-first on the ground. “Wake the others up. I’ll meet you all at the first mountain.”

Three hours. The exercise for today was longer than the others. They had been running for three consecutive hours and Sandara’s legs had finally turned to jelly. She can’t stop because the others weren’t stopping and plus because she was ahead of them, directly behind the captain. If she stopped, it would be a disgrace to her consecutive record of being the best trainee.

Her vest had made the scenario worse. Since it was wrapped around her chest, it had constricted her breathing that made her sweat two times more than the others. And again, to make matters worse than they already were, Jiyong was shirtless in front of her, his ripped back showing.

Sandara wheezed and her body gave up on her even though she didn’t even want to give up. She closed her eyes and readied herself into falling, but she didn’t fall. Instead, she felt steady calloused hands caught her before her face reached the ground.

“Your body structure is different, so it’s not shocking to see you getting tired earlier than us.” She heard her captain, Jiyong’s, voice. “I’ll carry you on my back, come on.”

He lifted her as if she was just a plastic bag and slung her on his back gingerly. Sandara slowly wrapped her legs about his waist as Jiyong slowly stood up.

He made himself comfortable with the addition of weight first, giving the others the pleasure of finally outrunning their captain, before he started increasing speed again, regaining the lead position and making the other soldiers grunt.

The road became steeper and Jiyong’s grunts became more rapid. Sandara tried going off from his back but Jiyong’s grip on her hands were firm. “Don’t overexert yourself, Sanghyun. I’m your older brother, right?”

There was it again, labeling himself as her sibling. Of course, there would be no problem for her family to accept him. She could already see the outcome if she will introduce Jiyong as a new member of the family, but it creates a very deep and unexplainable feeling in her heart as if the idea of becoming Jiyong’s sibling is the worst idea of all.

Jiyong picked up his pace when he saw the tip of the mountain and an indistinguishable happiness filled his face when he reached it.

“We reached it finally, Sanghyun.” He said to Sandara, a childish grin plastered on his face.

But his overjoyed face was replaced by his militant one when he looked at the front again. Maybe he oversaw it, the man in an armor standing six feet tall in front of him. Jiyong scowled and asked, “Who are you?”

The man bowed, just in time for Sandara to peer over Jiyong’s head and when he lifted his head back up again, she gasped. “Kris?” She whispered, audible enough for Jiyong to hear.

“Kris?” Jiyong repeated, measuring the word cautiously in his mouth and was near into spitting it.

“At your service,” Kris replied, calmly. “I’m a messenger from the Busan Camp and was sent to deliver this to you.”

Kris handed over a parchment to Jiyong, cleanly rolled and sealed with the general’s sign. The latter accepted it with caution.

“I’d be going now then, sir.” Kris said before bowing at Jiyong and passed beside him towards the road leading down. Sandara’s eyes trailed after him, and Kris, momentarily looking back at her, winked before he vanished into a thick puff of smoke.

Sandara looked back at Jiyong when he was already rolling the parchment again. “Help,” He said in a hurried whisper. “We need to set out for reinforcement.”

Then he ran down again, shouting as he goes, “Go back, all of you! We’re going to Busan at this instant!”

Everyone groaned with the order, but followed the captain. It was much easier now going downward since they’re not fighting gravity.

“What is it?” Sandara asked, her voice bumpy because of the rapid running of Jiyong.

“My father needs help from us. He’s guarding the village near the Pusan Perimeter and wants us to back-up. But before that, he wanted us to check up on the army of North Koreans near Gyeonggi-do. ” Jiyong immediately answered, his voice urgent and reserved.

But Sandara knew the truth, Kris brewed it by himself and she couldn’t help getting angry at him again. That stupid guardian all ever wanted was a fight. He was all on brawns and never really cared about the lives of the people around him. And Sandara couldn’t help getting angry at him for being such a heartless person—for not listening to Tao’s voice in his heart. She could imagine him laughing by his own, knowing that he was successful in making things more complicated than it was already.

But Sandara can’t tell Jiyong as he sped down the mountain. What her words would be against that parchment? And why would Jiyong listen to her when the parchment has his father’s signature.

When they reached the end of the mountain, he dropped Sandara gently on the ground and said, “Pack up all your things and go to the center of the camp afterwards. I’ll stay here to order the others.”

Sandara sped off towards her tent and saw Kris leaning against the tree where An was tethered. Instead of running, she marched, glowering at him.

“What was that?” She demanded, her voice in an angry whisper.

“It was—“

But she didn’t let him talk more because she had slapped him on the cheek. Maybe her nails dug into his skin or she had inflicted more force on the slap than she had intended, but the look of pain in Kris’ face made Sandara comfortable.

“Don’t make things more complicated Kris! If you want war, brew one that only involves you!” She shouted at him. Kris tried saying something, but decided against it. Instead, he bowed his head down and disappeared, leaving only a thick puff of smoke.