Failed Possession Chapter-26

Ch-26

—

“*This guy is…*”

Orca trailed off mid-sentence and lifted her head.
Chuk Shin-do did the same. Yuri reflexively looked up as well.

—Fwoosh…

Harabel Usia was descending.

Scattered embers drifted through the air, and wings of flame fluttered behind her back. It was easy to understand why her nickname was **Blazing Vermilion Bird**.

“You were in this city too?”

“Crazy bastard, don’t act familiar with me.”

Harabel glared at Chuk Shin-do, her red eyes flashing.

“If you pretend we’re close, people start suspecting I’m a possessor too.”

“If you’re not, then you’re not. You worry about strange things.”

“Regardless, I don’t want to be associated with someone like you.”

“That really hurts. It’s not even our first meeting.”

Despite being openly rebuked, Chuk Shin-do remained shameless.

Harabel, who had been hovering midair, noticed Orca staring at her and openly frowned, then sharply turned her head away. In the end, she didn’t descend to the wall and instead stayed suspended in the sky some distance from Orca.

‘So she really was suppressed by Orca before…’

Of course, that had entirely been Harabel’s fault. Judging by her behavior, she still seemed uncomfortable around Orca.

“So who is that guy, anyway?”

Chuk Shin-do’s attention returned to Yuri, and Orca answered calmly.

“He’s the childhood friend of my prospective disciple.”

“What? So he’s basically unrelated. Why’d you bring someone like that?”

“He’s something like a disciple of the Wolf Fist.”

“Wolf Fist?”

Chuk Shin-do blinked.

“What’s that supposed to be?”

There was no reason to mock someone who wasn’t even present. His expression truly showed that he didn’t know who “Wolf Fist” was.

“You promised to meet him in Lutran for a spar. Was that a lie?”

“No, wait…”

At the words *sparring promise*, Chuk Shin-do frowned and fell into thought.

Meanwhile, more and more people gathered by the wall. They murmured while staring at Chuk Shin-do and Harabel floating in the sky, then spotted Orca standing on the wall and began cheering loudly.

“Why are they cheering for you?”

Chuk Shin-do suddenly complained, still trying to remember Wolf Fist’s name.

“To the people of Lutran, you’re an unidentified lunatic, and I’m the Tower Lord of Dercia.”

“I’m **Full-Moon Play, Chuk Shin-do**!”

The moment Orca finished speaking, he shouted.

—Woooooo!
His shout became a lion’s roar that shook the air.

“The Martial Zenith!
**Full-Moon Play, Chuk Shin-do is me!**”

Before the reaction could even spread, he suddenly threw the **Demon-Guiding Orb** backward.

At the same time, he kicked off the air.

He caught the orb with his chest once, then chained it into a flashy kick. The orb flew through the gate like before and stopped above the crowd’s heads.

“Hoo-woo—!”

A louder-than-before celebration burst out.

“Waaaaah—!”

He spun half a turn midair and stretched both arms out crisply. The crowd roared with cheers.

Only then did he return to his original spot, looking satisfied.

“That’s more like it. Good. Hearing that finally wakes me up.”

Nodding at the continuing cheers, he looked at Yuri again.

“So. You’re basically that Wolf Fist guy’s disciple, right?”

“Yes…”

“If you’re a disciple, you’re a disciple. What’s with ‘basically’?”

“I just receive light guidance.”

“Yeah? You look pretty well-trained. So why are you here?”

“I wanted to watch the spar. You really don’t remember Wolf Fist Bakered?”

“Oh, right. I remember now.”

A strange expression crossed his face.

He was a possessor. He had lived decades here, but from Yuri—Lee Su-hyeok’s—perspective, Chuk Shin-do was someone he had chatted with in the community only a few years ago.

Did Chuk Shin-do still remember FS, who used to massacre the Sairan guards’ Bakered repeatedly to learn the Laspion sword art?

“Yeah. Wolf Fist’s name was Bakered…”

After muttering softly, Chuk Shin-do nodded.

“If I remember right, Wolf Fist’s a 6th-rank martial fighter. Right?”

Tucking the returning **Demon-Guiding Orb** under his arm again, he snorted.

“So you came to watch your teacher-or-whatever get beaten up by me?”

“…”

“Guys like me don’t spar carelessly. Especially not with people weaker than me. Winning’s as easy as my hyung scoring a goal. What do I gain from something that easy?”

“You… have a hyung?”

Yuri asked while desperately controlling his expression.

Chuk Shin-do nodded solemnly.

“He’s not in this world, but even without blood ties, there’s someone I truly consider my hyung.”

“I see…”

“Curious what kind of person my hyung is?”

What should he even say?

“…If he’s someone the Martial Zenith**Full-Moon Play** calls hyung, he must be incredible.”

“Uahahaha!”

Chuk Shin-do burst into laughter.

“Damn right. What’s your name?”

“Yuri.”

“Yuri. Go tell that Wolf Fist guy. Beating you is easy and losing is obvious, so why even bother sparring? I don’t have a nasty hobby of trampling the weak, so don’t bother—”

“That won’t do.”

A voice cut in from behind.

Bakered leapt over the crowd and landed beside Yuri.

“**Full-Moon Play. I came to this city to spar with you.**”

Without even glancing at Yuri, Orca, or Harabel, he stared straight at Chuk Shin-do.

“A year ago, you promised to spar with me here.”

“Now that I see your face, I remember clearly.”

Chuk Shin-do smiled down at him.

“Wolf Fist. I think I said the same thing back then.”

“This spar is for me, not for you.”

“Uahaha! Selfish talk. You want enlightenment from fighting me?”

His smile changed slightly.

He wasn’t just an attention-seeking weirdo lost in a concept.

Even with the advantages of being a possessor, his rank was real.

Martial Zenith.
A 7th-rank martial artist.

A profound aura flashed in his eyes.

“Let me say this clearly, Wolf Fist. Most enlightenment you get from sparring an overwhelmingly stronger opponent is just realizing your own weakness and despair.”

“…”

“Of course, a tiny few add desperation and break through the wall. Wolf Fist, are you one of those few?”

“I don’t know.”

“Blocked by the 7th-rank wall? Talent, grit, persistence, effort, intensity, life-or-death experiences… there are countless things needed for enlightenment. And you don’t need to spar me to get them. Consider this sincere advice.”

He tapped the **Demon-Guiding Orb** at his side.

“My respected hyung once said: I still want to learn, and I’ll keep learning my whole life. But Wolf Fist… you don’t look like someone who can teach me anything.”

“Did that hyung of yours also say promises can be taken lightly?”

The moment Yuri heard that, he bit his tongue.

“Full-Moon Play, I know you’re not refusing because you fear me. But you already promised. Now you’re trying to back out? What kind of nonsense is that?”

“…”

“Answer me. Does the hyung you respect take promises lightly?”

“No.”

The smile vanished from Chuk Shin-do’s face.

“My hyung never breaks promises.”

And so—

The spar between **Full-Moon Play** and **Wolf Fist** was decided.

—

—

Outside Lutran’s eastern gate, Full-Moon Play and Wolf Fist faced each other.

The crowd lined the walls to watch, while Yuri stood close enough to call it a VIP seat. Being Wolf Fist’s disciple-like figure—and with Orca and Chuk Shin-do permitting it—granted him the spot.

“What’s going on all of a sudden?”

Elena, who arrived late, looked flustered. To her, it was far more shocking that Orca personally brought Yuri here than the spar itself.

“To witness a Martial Zenith’s martial might from seats like this… thanks to you, Mr. 3.5-billion-man Yuri, I’m enjoying some luck too.”

Haryeong, who came with Elena, raised a finger leisurely.

“And the referee is **Azure Heaven Sword Lord Namgung Ju-won**? As expected—when it’s a Martial Zenith, even the Namgung clan head gets called as referee.”

Namgung Ju-won, who had just arrived, had been personally designated by Full-Moon Play. Among those present, he was the most renowned martial artist besides him.

“He doesn’t look upset.”

“Of course not. He’s been stuck at the 7th-rank wall for a long time too. Among the Five Great Families of the Orthodox Heaven Alliance, only two have surpassed it.”

Mo Yong Hyeonrak and Yeon Ri-sang-ah.

Namgung, Jegal, and Hwangbo still had none.

“Even as an observer, one can gain martial insight. Right now, Azure Heaven Sword Lord probably thinks himself lucky. Just like me.”

“What rank are you, Haryeong-nim?”

“Do you know what’s most important for an assassin?”

“Secrecy?”

“Yes. The more secrets, the better the assassin.”

Meaning she wouldn’t tell.

“What did you talk about with the Tower Lord?”

Elena leaned closer and whispered.

Orca was currently talking with someone from the Ascad family who had just arrived.

“She asked if I was learning martial arts well.”

“Liar. There’s no reason she’d suddenly call you over just to ask that. It’s about something related to me, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Why lie when it’s obviously going to be exposed? So, what did she say?”

“She said it wouldn’t be good for either of us if I only stayed at your estate.”

Elena’s pupils trembled.

She glared briefly in Orca’s direction, then clenched the hem of her robe and muttered,

“Why would she call you directly to say something like that?”

“Guess she was worried about her adopted daughter.”

“Huh? Adopted daughter? You even heard that?”

Startled, Elena hurriedly lowered her voice.

“On paper maybe, but the Tower Lord and I aren’t like that.”

“I heard that too.”

“Anyway…! I’ll talk to the Tower Lord again myself. I’ve already thought things through, so you don’t need to worry, Yuri.”

“There’s no need.”

He had already made up his mind.

On top of that, Orca had given him the **Purple Lightning Flash Art** manual. It would feel awkward to ignore her advice and keep staying at Elena’s estate.

“There’s… no need? What do you mean?”

“I can’t rely on you forever.”

“It—it hasn’t even been that long! It’s only been a little over a month…!”

“Let’s talk about it later.”

Convincing Elena right now would be difficult, and there was something more important at hand.

‘Sigh.’

But Elena’s expression at such close range didn’t look normal.

Her blue eyes shook like a storm-tossed sea, and even her slightly parted lips trembled faintly.

‘No… need?’

Those words echoed over and over in her head.

“…?”

A ticklish sensation brushed the back of her hand.

She looked down.

Yuri’s fingers were gently stroking it.

“What are you doing?”

Elena let out a hollow laugh and nudged him with her elbow.

But Yuri’s face remained calm. He glanced at her briefly, then looked forward again.

“Idiot.”

The echo vanished from her head.

She chuckled softly and followed his gaze.

Bakered, who had been sitting cross-legged in meditation, was rising to his feet.

“If you lack time, you can meditate longer.”

“No, this is enough.”

About ten minutes of meditation.

Not long, but more wouldn’t matter.

His tingling skin already told him so. No—even before these signs, he had known.

This was an opponent he couldn’t defeat.

He had known from the beginning.

No matter how much he calmed his mind or reviewed every martial art he had learned—

defeat was already decided.

He hadn’t realized it today.

He had known ever since he first saw **Full-Moon Play** a year ago.

Bakered took a deep breath and assumed the opening stance of his fist art.

“My name is Bakered. I am called Fist Wolf.”

The **Demon-Guiding Orb** tucked at Chuk Shin-do’s side dropped.

He caught it with the top of his foot and fixed it in place.

Though he stood on one leg in what should’ve been an unstable pose, strangely there wasn’t the slightest flaw or opening in his posture.

“Martial Zenith. Full-Moon Play, Chuk Shin-do.”

It was spoken quietly, yet his voice weighed heavily in everyone’s ears.

Chuk Shin-do spread his left hand wide.

Bakered frowned at the five fingers.

“Five moves?”

“No.”

Chuk Shin-do shook his head.

“I’m not from some wuxia novel. Counting moves like five or ten feels vague and annoying.”

“Then what do those fingers mean?”

“Five minutes.”

He spoke flatly.

Lowering his hand, he grabbed the jacket he was wearing.

“If you’re still standing after five minutes, I’ll count it as my loss.”

“…Very well.”

Bakered nodded.

“But if I look like I’m about to die before five minutes pass, don’t stop attacking.”

“This isn’t a life-or-death duel.”

“Five minutes. I will endure.”

“How arrogant.”

Clicking his tongue, Chuk Shin-do unbuttoned and shrugged off his jacket.

No—rather than taking it off, it looked like he flung it aside.

—Flap!

The jacket fluttered loudly through the air like a cape.

‘Damn it.’

Yuri couldn’t relax even for a second.

He bit his tongue desperately to suppress laughter.

Under the jacket, the white short-sleeve shirt wasn’t just any shirt.

‘Where did he even get that?’

There was no way soccer uniforms were sold in this world, so Chuk Shin-do must have custom-made it himself.

Yuri deliberately ignored the large number **7** printed on his back.

“What’s that number?”

“I don’t know the exact meaning, but it’s the number that symbolizes Chuk Shin-du.”

“The name written above it?”

“Probably his real name before possession.”

“Wasn’t his real name Chuk Shin-do?”

Even the conversations he overheard tormented Yuri.

He had the urge to cover his ears at Elena and Haryeong talking beside him.

“I’ll hold back my strength a bit.”

“It’s an honor to experience the famed **Full-Moon Kick-Slaughter Art**.”

Namgung Ju-won, standing as referee, looked between the two.

“Seems there’s no room for me to interfere. Do you even need a referee?”

“Just count five minutes accurately.”

Thunk.

The **Demon-Guiding Orb** bounced up from Chuk Shin-do’s foot.

—Krrr!

White aura wrapped around it.

The instant he saw that, Bakered lunged forward.

Full-Moon Play’s martial art was famous.

He coated the orichalcum **Demon-Guiding Orb**, known for its excellent mana conductivity, with aura and kicked it.

And his ultimate technique, **Full-Moon Kick-Slaughter Art**, didn’t merely involve kicking a steel ball—it exquisitely manipulated the aura itself, producing countless variations.

‘Don’t give him distance.’

That was Bakered’s judgment.

Launching the orb to crush distant opponents with heavy blows was Full-Moon Play’s favored tactic.

Bakered was a close-combat fighter.

He neither excelled at nor enjoyed long-range combat.

‘If I just close the distance, there might be a chance—’

He immediately realized how clumsy and arrogant that plan was.

The distance hadn’t even been that far to begin with.

Only a few dozen steps.

Yet before Bakered could cover even half of it, the white-aura-wrapped **Demon-Guiding Orb** left Chuk Shin-do’s foot.

It reached him in an instant.

Rather than being kicked, it felt as if it had been right in front of him from the start.

‘My fist—’

Don’t throw it.

Decades of experience and instinct screamed the warning.

Instead, Bakered opened both palms wide and caught the sphere of aura.

—Crack.

The moment he heard bones shattering,

his body was blown backward.

“Hoo!”

A cheerful voice echoed through his fading consciousness.

—