A Tale of the King and the Hermit

There was a majestic, powerful king whose sun was about to set behind the mountains. He handed the country over to a hermit in that shrine, a man who had held no rank during the previous reign. When the recluse heard the drums of power, he no longer found any joy in his corner of solitude. He began marching armies left and right, until the hearts of the brave fled from him in fear. His arm grew so strong and his claws so sharp that he picked fights even with seasoned warriors. He killed many from the scattered people, so the rest banded together, of one mind and backing each other. They pressed the siege so tightly around him that he was helpless against the rain of arrows and stones. He sent word to a righteous man: 'I am stuck in dire trouble, come to my rescue.' 'Help me with your spiritual strength, for sword and arrow are not a lifeline in every battle.' When the devout man heard this, he laughed and said, 'Why did he not settle for half a loaf of bread and simply sleep in peace?' Korah, that worshipper of wealth, never understood that the treasure of safety lies in a quiet corner.