Ch-116
—
“Are you really going alone?”
They were in the middle of dinner. Haryeong, unusually for her, spoke with a deeply worried expression.
“The thought of Yuri going alone fills me with the same great anxiety as setting a child adrift at the water’s edge.”
“Are you my mother?”
“If Yuri wishes it, I am willing to become a temporary mother. That is how much I am worried about you.”
Lorellia’s fists did not discriminate between men and women, nor did they avoid faces.
Still, the holy water from the War Church was effective—there were no visible traces of violence left on Haryeong’s face. She was able to knit her brows without much pain.
“Even now, would it not be better to reconsider and take me with you?”
“Thank you for your concern, but I will be fine.”
“Please think it over once more.”
“If you truly wish to come, persuade Lorellia yourself.”
Haryeong clicked her tongue and returned to her usual expressionless face. She stabbed at an innocent piece of meat with her chopsticks and grumbled.
“You are quite cruel. Do you wish so badly to see me beaten?”
“You watch me get beaten just fine.”
“That is because Yuri always makes such a pathetic expression whenever struck.”
“Your expression is no less remarkable.”
It had already been two days since they began staying at Pointed Sword Valley.
Training did not consist solely of sparring. Sometimes instruction was given verbally—advice on martial arts delivered not by fist but by word.
Which inevitably led to sparring.
Rise, spar, receive correction on mistakes and points of improvement, then spar again to confirm whether those changes had been made.
The cycle of violence began at dawn and ended before dinner.
“I have not told Lorellia that I begged you.”
Haryeong quickly glanced around and lowered her voice.
Once the guidance of the three was complete, Lorellia undertook her own training. She did not even eat dinner, instead going to Sharp Sword Valley to meditate alone until dawn.
“I’ll return quickly.”
Estor, seated across from them, spoke up.
“Won’t you?”
Tomorrow Yuri would leave Yicheon Sword Sect and head to Dunjeong.
“Who knows what might happen.”
There were two days left until the ten-day mark mentioned at Jeongyeon Inn. If he ran without rest, he would arrive on time.
“For me, Fist Wolf was the first… no, the second person to teach me martial arts. It has been two years since I last saw him. We will have much to talk about.”
Haryeong and Estor’s gazes turned chilly, but Yuri ignored them and continued.
“We’ll drink, reminisce—perhaps a few days will pass.”
“Are you going to play around?”
“I’m not going for work.”
Estor’s expression twisted at the teasing answer, but since he did not know the details of their relationship, he did not press further.
“Well… if he is like a master to you, it cannot be helped.”
Even if they had not formally bound themselves in a master-disciple relationship, one who taught was a master, and one who learned was a disciple.
“Will you tell him as well?”
Yuri knew what she meant.
“It seems he does not hate possessors unconditionally.”
That had been his attitude toward Full-Moon Play.
“That may have been because he did not know at the time that the enemy of his family was a possessor.”
“That could be.”
Unless one’s identity as a possessor was publicly known like Full-Moon Play or Catastrophic Tempest, most possessors lived in constant falsehood. The more thorough the lie, the more relationships became soaked in it.
“There is such a thing as a white lie. If Fist Wolf despises possessors, perhaps there is no need to tell him.”
It was spoken from concern.
Yuri nodded slowly.
He had already experienced a relationship that began in falsehood collapsing.
“Isn’t it different if the relationship was formed after possession? If he knew you before, lies would accumulate. But if he only knows you as you are now, what does it matter? The Fist Wolf you know knows the Yuri of now.”
“He lost his family to a possessor.”
“If someone decides to kill every innocent possessor in the world because one killed his family, then he is mad. In that case, it would be better to cut ties entirely. Besides, the culprit was not merely a possessor, but a cultist, was he not?”
Estor looked at Yuri with calm, steady eyes.
“In the end, you have partially avenged Fist Wolf. You have committed no sin against him.”
If they were to meet only a few times and part ways, there was no need to reveal he was a possessor. But if he wished to continue the relationship beyond that—
*If he understands, that is good. If he does not…*
*That cannot be helped.*
Had a reply come from Elena?
With that thought in mind, Yuri rose.
“Where are you going?”
“To practice.”
Training must be done thoroughly when one has the chance. Fortunately, this training required neither being beaten nor intense bodily movement.
He left Pointed Sword Pavilion and entered the forest behind it.
The mountain night was bright with moonlight and stars—but once within the forest, darkness swallowed everything.
In the heart of the black woods, Yuri steadied his breathing.
Several days had passed since reaching Sixth Rank. Sparring close to real combat had familiarized him with the senses—but expanding consciousness and handling Intent was still incomplete.
*It cannot be complete yet.*
He was not at the level to even speak of completion.
Slowly—very slowly.
Unlike in urgent sparring, he delicately expanded his consciousness and linked it to Gate Sealing Thunder.
—Swaaaah!
An overwhelming flood of information poured in.
The strength and direction of the wind drifting through the forest.
Each shrub trembling in response.
The tiny insects crawling atop them.
The soil through which intertwined roots spread.
The insects again.
Above—towering trees, spreading branches.
A mountain bird settling, its chirping.
The natural qi encompassing all of it.
*If I try to process it one by one, I won’t endure.*
He chose only what he wished to see, hear, and feel.
Before he knew it, sweat soaked his entire body.
He needed to be able to react instantly to this vast information.
Steadying his breath, Yuri prepared the next step.
Corpse Dissolution Reversion.
Withered Eternal Source.
The unique magic of the Corpse Immortal, obtained at the Old Withered Crone’s house—a spell one could barely begin attempting at Sixth Rank.
He had long memorized the thick tome’s worth of formulas—but at Fifth Rank, no matter how many times he tried, the spell would not activate.
Even the Old Withered Crone, a Sixth Rank mage, could not cast it.
Yuri too was Sixth Rank—but in understanding of magic, he could not compare.
No matter how he struggled, it was natural that he could not yet deploy Withered Eternal Source.
All things possess qi.
Living beings, of course—but even inanimate objects like rocks.
Withered Eternal Source harvested life within a designated area.
It drew in the flowing natural qi and extracted the primordial vitality of living beings, adding it to oneself.
What Yuri focused on was the primordial vitality perceived during the activation process of Withered Eternal Source.
Though he lacked the magical capacity to extract it, simply perceiving it opened many doors of possibility.
Gate sealing Thunder spread lightning energy to detect the flow of mana.
Even without directly seeing or hearing, it sensed through the web of lightning energy.
That detection is not perfectly accurate. There are various countermeasures. But what if, to the mana flow sensed by Gate Sealing Thunder, one were to add perception of the primordial vitality residing within life?
*Orca and I use Gate Sealing Thunder differently.*
She spreads lightning energy across a vast space based on her immense soul power. She does not allow approach in the first place. The moment something is detected, lightning-speed magic intercepts the enemy.
Yuri intends to use Gate Sealing Thunder thoroughly for martial combat. If he can completely blend in the perception from Withered Eternal Source—
*Even an attack far faster than I am could be discerned.*
A feint does not carry sufficient internal energy. At close range, if he can also perceive the primordial vitality that distinguishes substance from illusion—the very flaw of Gate Sealing Thunder—he can see through it.
The problem—
“Ugh…!”
Even with Sixth Rank consciousness, he cannot maintain it for long. He has not even dared to attempt adding Intent. It feels as though his Upper Dantian might burst with a bang at any moment.
*Still… I’m beginning to grasp the outline.*
Having come this far, refining his martial path and adding Intent—where is he heading?
At Sixth Rank, where one formally enters the path of Intent, the process is that of forging Intent Deification. Everything Yuri attempts from now on becomes both the clue and the cornerstone of that deification.
*According to the concept, I could discern every attack I cannot see. But how do I respond?*
He cannot strike lightning like Orca.
He could respond with both arms and legs—but he wants to see beyond that.
Faster. Stronger.
—
—
The Ascad family has inherited alchemy for generations, and its head is considered among the greatest alchemists of the age.
The finest of them is the current patriarch, Alfreon Ascad.
“I greet the Patriarch of Ascad.”
A child who draws the eye.
She had once earned the nickname Marigold for her striking beauty. What of her now? The radiant bloom one might call a flower is gone.
Her combed golden hair is dull and dry, hanging below her waist without care. Her skin is pale, drained of blood. Her blue eyes are clouded, shadows deep beneath them.
“You resemble her.”
Behind the monocle, gray eyes shifted.
“She is my disciple.”
Orca replied with a smile. It was not that their faces resembled each other. Rather, the present Marigold—no, Mad Thunder—evoked Orca from decades ago, when she had been madly obsessed with seeing the end of magic.
The Ascad family has long supported the Dercia Mage Tower.
Even before that relationship, the two had known each other for decades and regarded one another as friends.
Orca knew Alfreon from his desperate struggle to become head of the family. Alfreon knew Orca from her mad pursuit of the end of magic.
Time passed. Alfreon became Patriarch of Ascad as he wished. Orca has yet to see the end of magic.
Did such an “end” even exist?
That was not Alfreon’s concern. He had no grand dream of seeing the end of alchemy, nor was he arrogant or romantic enough to devote himself to such a pursuit.
But neither would he mock a friend for dreaming of the unattainable. If Orca continued to dream, Alfreon would support her wholeheartedly.
“Heinderga” was Orca Dercia’s former surname. Not by blood, but Mad Thunder was Orca’s daughter. And her disciple. She was the one who would carry Orca’s dream forward.
“Let us go down.”
Alfreon raised his staff adorned with a red gemstone.
—Kugugung.
The floor trembled, and the entire room began descending underground.
Beneath the Ascad estate lay a space several times the size of the grounds above.
It was the alchemy workshop used for generations. When the room descended entirely and its door opened, it connected to the workshop Alfreon intended to visit.
“It has been adjusted.”
At the center of the pristine white chamber floated a black cube.
The Thunder Prison (雷獄)—a vessel crafted by Alfreon, inscribed with spell formulas by Orca.
“It will not be pleasant.”
Orca placed a hand on Elena’s shoulder.
“Inside, your mind will experience things impossible in reality. To put it simply—inside, you will become me.”
All magic Orca, Heavenly Thunder and Tower Master of Dercia, could wield existed within.
“Knowing the formula does not mean you can cast the spell. To manifest magic requires profound understanding of the formula and resonance with soul power. But inside, it is possible.”
The Akashic Record Orca envisioned began with accumulating a mage’s knowledge, experience, understanding, and even the soul that housed magic itself.
“Everything about my magic is replicated inside. What you must pursue there is not memory or rote learning, but understanding. At first, the dissonance will be severe.”
Within Thunder Prison, one could become Orca and use her unique magic.
But in reality, that was impossible. Without sufficient soul power, high-tier magic cannot manifest.
“Thunder Prison forcibly resonates your soul power with magic. Inside, you can use all my magic and remember the formulas—but it does not grant understanding. Whether you comprehend it or not depends on you.”
It creates an environment where, even knowing the problem and answer, one must struggle alone to understand why that answer arises.
That such magic was impossible in reality had already been verified through Lacy.
They had attempted to possess part of the soul and cast magic through Lacy’s body—but not all unique magic could be used.
Even after possession ended, the memory remained. Yet Lacy could not properly recall the magical knowledge. The soul performing the magic rejected what was not its own.
Thunder Prison was built to overcome that.
Still far from the grand wish it aimed toward, it was for now a small library made for a beloved disciple.
“You will experience magic you can never cast at your current Rank, and in understanding it, your soul will grow rapidly. If you are careless, your soul may collapse.”
“There are safety measures in place. But whether your mind endures is another matter. Each time you grasp a spell, you will feel intense pain. Do not enter too often or remain too long. If you are worried, you need not enter at all.”
“No. I will go in now.”
Elena smiled brightly at Orca.
“Yuri has nearly died multiple times.”
Without waiting for a reply, she approached Thunder Prison.
A line formed on the black surface, becoming a door. Elena entered without hesitation.
*This place…*
A white world.
She knew immediately upon entering. This was a space crafted by alchemy and magic—governed by laws different from reality.
Blinking several times, Elena looked around.
Bookshelves manifested in the empty world. Each book bore the title of a different spell—Dercia magic, Orca’s unique magic, and every spell Orca knew.
Thunderlight Star-Shatter.
What she must understand was unique magic.
Without hesitation, Elena pulled the book.
As she opened it—
“Ah—!”
The book vanished from her hands.
At the same time, agonizing pain began, as though her brain were being seared by lightning. Elena clutched her head and collapsed.
Her consciousness expanded uncontrollably as vast knowledge was forced into her.
It was not only her head that hurt. Her body—no, her soul—swelled. To cast magic she could never wield, the space itself stretched her soul.
*Endure…!*
Biting her lip, Elena raised her trembling fingers.
*Yuri endured worse. He nearly died. If I… if I grow stronger—*
Amid the crackling thoughts, light burst forth.
—Kwaaaarrr!
From her fingertips, light erupted into a lightning bolt fierce enough to shatter stars.
“Ahhh…!”
The pain continued. But Elena did not think of the pain.
*How did I do that?*
She did not know.
She desired Thunderlight Star-Shatter—and Thunderlight Star-Shatter was unleashed.
Understanding *how*—that was what Elena must accomplish inside Thunder Prison.
