Failed Possession Chapter-30

## Chapter 30.

—

“Mm…”

Letting out a low groan, Bakered suddenly sat upright.

He blinked at the familiar sight of the room he had stayed in for over a month, then looked out the window.

‘Night…’

His match with Full-Moon Play had taken place before noon, so it seemed he had been unconscious for at least half a day.

Bakered let out a hollow chuckle and shook his head.

“You’re awake?”

Yuri spoke as he entered through the door.

Bakered stared at Yuri’s face for a moment, then nodded.

“Did you bring me here?”

“Yes.”

“The Marigold and the Salho Gate assassin?”

“I told them to go back first.”

“Then why did you stay?”

“Someone should at least explain things when you wake up.”

Elena had seemed like she wanted to stay too, but in the end Haryeong dragged her back to the mansion.

“How long was I out?”

“About seven hours.”

“Good. At least it wasn’t a full day.”

Only now did the pain in his body fully register.

Bakered frowned and looked himself over.

There wasn’t a single part of his body that wasn’t wrapped in bandages. The worst injuries were his fists, which he had swung endlessly, and his left arm that had taken a direct hit from the Demon-Guiding Orb.

“Did you treat me?”

“No. I called a doctor.”

“Good. This is the middle of a city, not some place where doctors are hard to find. If you’re injured, you call one.”

“I paid with money from your wallet.”

“You little—”

“I wasn’t the one who got hurt.”

His face said it was only natural.

Bakered glared at that shameless expression for a moment, then burst out laughing and nodded.

“Well. Fair enough. What did the doctor say?”

“There’s a diagnosis sheet next to you.”

Sure enough, there was one on the bedside table.

Bakered reached out with his heavily wrapped hand and read it.

Fractures. Bruises. Lacerations…

After scanning the familiar terms, he crumpled it and tossed it aside.

“No medicine?”

“I tried to get a prescription, but they said a martial artist like you would probably carry potions yourself.”

“Did that Salho Gate assassin say that?”

“Yes.”

“She’s right. There’s even a saying that low-rank fighters fight with drugs, not internal energy.”

When Bakered reached out, a large bag from the corner floated over.

“What do you think that means?”

“That fighters get hurt a lot.”

“Exactly. If you plan to keep fighting with your fists, always carry plenty of medicine.”

“You’re not low rank, though. Do you still fight with drugs?”

“Once you reach Rank 4, you rarely get injured—so long as you only fight weaker opponents. I’ve rarely fought anyone weaker than myself my entire life.”

With practiced motions, Bakered took out several medicines and poured them into a large glass bottle, mixing them together.

He downed the improvised potion in one gulp and closed his eyes.

“Thankfully, there’s no internal injury. Full-Moon Play showed me a great deal of mercy.”

“Both your hands were shattered.”

“That’s not a serious injury.”

“That’s not serious?”

“A fighter’s body shows its true worth as rank increases. Most injuries heal quickly even without treatment. Today’s match did a number on me, but even without medicine I’d be fine in a week.”

“And with medicine?”

“Three or four days.”

It was astonishing.

‘Well… if you fight bare-handed without weapons, your durability and recovery have to be good.’

The character Yuri had played in the game, “Padlip-Immune,” had been like that too. Even aside from self-healing skills, his base recovery was high.

“I heard Full-Moon Play evaluating you.”

“Weren’t you unconscious?”

“My body couldn’t move, but my mind was awake. I lost consciousness partway through, but I held on until he left.”

Bakered opened his eyes and looked straight at Yuri.

“I already knew you had unusual talent for martial arts, but it seems you’re even better than I thought. So—how much did you see?”

“I didn’t see clearly…”

How should he answer?

His possessor talent was related to mana, so the question itself wasn’t suspicious. Still, Yuri hesitated, unsure how to describe what he’d seen.

“I started seeing clearly when you began using Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist.”

“Your eyes followed what was familiar. And after that? When Full-Moon Play started using his Full-Moon Kicking Art in earnest—did you see that?”

“About half, I think.”

“And Heaven-Filling Downpour—the secret art?”

Thankfully, he didn’t laugh this time.

Maintaining a serious face, Yuri answered.

“That was too high-level. Honestly, I couldn’t tell what was happening, so I couldn’t see much.”

“That’s only natural. I’ve faced many martial artists, but the secret art of Full-Moon Slaughter Kick Art was truly incredible.”

“I don’t know if I saw correctly, but inside that technique, it looked like your fists were twisting the direction of the aura.”

Bakered’s eyes went blank.

After a moment, he regained himself and let out a disbelieving chuckle.

“Incredible. You even saw that?”

“Yes.”

“Thanks to his restraint. He could have killed me or defeated me in one blow. But he didn’t. If my guess is right… he was trying to teach me.”

He looked down at his broken hands.

“The fist technique I attempted at the end was the shape of what I needed in that moment.”

“It looked like a fusion of Vajra Shattering Fist and Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist.”

“That’s right. My study wasn’t enough to complete it, but… through this match, I’ve grasped the outline. From now on, my task is to turn that vague outline into a solid form.”

He closed his eyes again.

In that moment inside Heaven-Filling Downpour, desperately throwing punches, he had briefly entered a state of selflessness.

Though fleeting, the memory and sensation remained clear.

“I should leave.”

“…What?”

“I was blocked by a massive wall. The wall of Rank 7. Most fighters fall into despair there. Thanks to great fortune, I think I’ve finally glimpsed what lies beyond.”

That feeling might vanish like an illusion at any time.

So he made a decision.

“Once I recover, I’ll leave immediately.”

“Where will you go?”

“My life has always been that of a wanderer without a destination. This time is no different. Where should I go… I don’t know. I challenged Full-Moon Play, so maybe next I’ll challenge the Fist King.”

He chuckled and clenched his bandaged fists.

“I don’t know if the other Martial Zeniths will be as merciful, but the enlightenment gained from fighting masters is truly sweet and valuable.”

“Still… it’s so sudden.”

“Our meeting was sudden too. Farewells are the same. Yuri—show me Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist.”

“…Pardon?”

“If you watched the match, you must have felt something. Show me.”

His eyes were deadly serious.

Refusal wasn’t an option.

Yuri nodded and stood.

“Separate the four forms—Floating Cloud drift, Storm Cloud Dance, Dark Cloud Veiling Moon, Thundercloud Dragon Fang—and perform them consecutively. Then connect them as one.”

He raised both fists and took the opening stance.

He’d shown this technique countless times before Bakered, but now it felt different.

The match from half a day ago flickered in his mind.

He calmed himself with several deep breaths.

Full-Moon Play wasn’t here.

But in his mind, the Demon-Guiding Orb and spheres of aura were vividly present.

Slowly—

His fist moved forward.

Imagining the incoming attacks, he responded.

Floating Cloud Drift.

As the fist extended, his feet moved naturally.

Though he only stepped a few paces, the freedom contained in those movements felt boundless.

The motion changed.

Speed shifted.

Softness. Change. Swiftness.

The three principles of the art melted into the path of his fists.

He separated the four forms as instructed.

That part was easy.

But connecting them seamlessly was difficult.

Each form began differently.

The transitions felt awkward.

“Again,” Bakered said.

Yuri agreed silently and returned to the start.

“Again.”

He heard it many times.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t complain.

Martial arts were fun.

If it wasn’t satisfying, of course he wanted to try again.

After dozens of repetitions, sweat poured down his body like rain.

Again.

What was wrong?

Should he add new movements to connect them?

But then those became new techniques themselves.

‘No.’

Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist was a peak-tier art.

He couldn’t smooth it out with makeshift motions.

Then should he trim the ends and stitch them together?

The deeper he focused, the more dissatisfied he became.

Lighter.

Faster.

Softer.

Freer…

One by one, his desires increased.

In his mind, the movements replayed.

How Bakered moved.

How he struck.

How Full-Moon Play roamed the sky—

How he used his legs.

—Rip.

Inside Yuri’s head, every form of Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist was torn to pieces.

The cryptic verses that had once been filled with vague, floating metaphors clung to each shattered fragment.
The manual.
The illustrations drawn as examples for each form.
Pictures made of dots and lines—

Those pictures became Yuri.

Each form had something that grated.

Things he hadn’t noticed when he first started now stood out clearly.

He cut them away.

Wrong.

He cut away too much.

If he did it like this, the fist would float, leaving openings.

He went back to the beginning.

While retracting the punch he bent it, then struck again.
It said to use the left hand, but maybe the right would work too.
Would it really?

He connected the torn shapes.
Tore them apart again.
Reconnected them anew…

‘Ah.’

At last, inside his head, Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist became one.

Before he could forget it, he immediately expressed it with his body.

—Whooosh!

It was a strange feeling.

He had clearly performed it physically, yet his mind grew bright and his dantian trembled.

Yuri let out a deep breath and collapsed to the floor.

“Excellent.”

Yuri raised his head—then flinched.

Outside the window, which had been night, it was already morning.

As Yuri stared with his mouth open, Bakered chuckled.

“How was it?”

“…Pardon?”

“What you just did. Are you satisfied?”

He had swung Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist from night until morning.

Yuri recalled the last sequence he had performed.

After a moment of thought, he sighed and shook his head.

“I’m not satisfied.”

“Why? I said it was excellent.”

“I connected them… but it doesn’t feel like the right answer. I feel like I could do better…”

“Well, of course. Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist is a peak-tier art. Does it make sense that you’d perfectly link it in half a day?”

“Then why did you make me do it?”

“Honestly, I didn’t expect you to succeed. I thought if you just felt your shortcomings, that’d be enough. But you did far better than I expected. So I stayed up all night watching, even though I’m injured.”

Bakered nodded with a smile.

“You connected them. That alone is remarkable.”

“…It still feels ambiguous…”

“Then keep training and refine it. Here, take this.”

Something flew toward him and dropped in front of Yuri.

<Storm-wind Cloud Steps>.

Seeing the title written on the manual, Yuri blinked.

“What is this?”

“The footwork of Yang Il-su, the creator of Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist. It’s also the footwork I learned. The reason I was so obsessed with Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist. Do you remember what I said a month ago?”

He remembered.

[If you use every form of Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist to face my punches, I’ll give you a gift.]

A month had passed.

Yuri still hadn’t succeeded in using every form to face Bakered’s fists.

“I can’t spar with you directly since I’m injured, and judging by your level now, I don’t think it’s necessary anyway.”

“…You were hiding something like this?”

“Hiding? I don’t like the sound of that. Want me to take it back?”

“Thank you.”

Yuri quickly replied and grabbed the manual with both hands.

“I won’t teach you that footwork directly. You were already making something similar on your own… and its shape resembles Storm-wind Cloud Steps. With your understanding of Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist, you’ll figure it out yourself.”

“…”

“Besides, I’m not your master.”

“You’re at least something like a master.”

Yuri wiped the sweat running down his forehead.

“Other people would think so too.”

“No. I can’t be your master. And you can’t be my disciple.”

“Why not?”

“If I become your master, my karma might pass on to you.”

“Karma?”

At the question, Bakered closed his lips.

Silence fell.

Yuri simply watched his face.

“The reason I left the Sairan Guard… is revenge.”

“…”

“I don’t want to explain the details. This is something I have to do. Because I have revenge to take, I became a wanderer. I can’t be someone’s master.”

“I’m tight-lipped. Even if you told me, I’d never tell anyone else.”

“Even so, I won’t.”

Yuri already knew Bakered’s secret.

The survivor of the exterminated Laspion family.

It wasn’t something that would benefit him to reveal, and since Bakered didn’t want to talk, Yuri didn’t pry.

“After I succeed in my revenge… then maybe we can drink and talk. If you’re curious, just hope I succeed.”

“Work hard on your revenge.”

“Judging by how you talk, you’re not the type I’d want as a disciple anyway.”

Bakered grimaced and waved his bandaged hand.

“I’m going to rest now. You must be tired too. Go back and sleep.”

“I’d like to see you again before you leave. When will you go?”

“No need.”

“Come on, we’re not strangers. I’m not heartless enough to ignore someone who’s basically my master leaving.”

“Kid, your mouth really…”

He grumbled, but his face wasn’t displeased.

“In two days or so my bones should be mostly set. I’ll leave then. No need for you to come. I’ll stop by the mansion to say goodbye.”

“Yes.”

Yuri stood up, body aching.

“Then I’ll see you then.”

“Mm.”

His steps felt heavy as he left the inn.

He’d stayed out all night without saying anything. Elena was surely worried.

‘Amazing she didn’t come looking…’

Thinking that, Yuri descended the stairs—

—and froze halfway.

“…”

On the first floor, which served as a dining hall, Elena was reading a book.

Across from her, Haryeong was polishing a dagger.

“The unauthorized overnight guest is coming down.”

Without looking up from the blade, Haryeong spoke.

“Next time you stay out, please at least say something. Thanks to you, I stayed up all night too.”

“Finished?”

Elena turned her head.

“…What are you doing here?”

“I was going to go to the room, but Bakered sent a voice transmission. Said it was an important moment and I shouldn’t open the door.”

“Voice transmission?”

[Like this.]

Haryeong’s voice rang inside Yuri’s head.

[It’s a technique that sends intent directly without speaking aloud. Magic has something similar. Martial artists can do it starting at Rank 4.]

“Haryeong-nim, you’re Rank 4?”

“Ah.”

She muttered expressionlessly.

[I might be Rank 4. Or higher. Or lower.]

“You said voice transmission starts at Rank 4.”

[That’s the general case. With certain arts, you can use it at lower ranks.]

“Or maybe what I’m doing right now is ventriloquism instead.”

Her lips stayed closed as her voice sounded.

“You said you couldn’t do ventriloquism.”

“Let’s just go with it.”

“Aren’t you going home?”

Snap. Elena closed her grimoire and glared.

“I’m going.”

Yuri obediently nodded.

*

*

Top floor of the Dercia Magic Tower.

Orca, having just returned from the Ascad mansion, dropped onto the sofa.

“Padlip-Immune?”

She frowned and tilted her head.

“What’s a padlip, and what does immunity even mean?”

Lacy, brewing coffee, paused in thought.

‘How am I supposed to explain that…’

An elegant explanation didn’t seem possible.

—