Failed Possession Chapter-35

**Ch-35.**

—

He packed his luggage.

Just the travel time alone would take a month round trip. They said they would stay in Lagos for about ten days at most, but schedules never went exactly as planned. Realistically, it would probably be two months before they returned to the estate.

Since arriving in Lutran, he had lived in this estate for half a year. The only time Yuri had ever stayed out overnight was when he practiced the **Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist** at Bakered’s lodging.

‘It’s not like I had any other reason to stay out, anyway.’

Opening a drawer, he saw a thick stack of letters—old letters he had exchanged with Elena, a few from Gordon, and one from Bakered.

He had received a letter once from Bakered after he left Lutran.

Though Bakered hadn’t disclosed his exact location, he said he had secluded himself deep in some remote mountain valley and begun closed-door training.

To open the faintly glimpsed gate of the Seventh Tier. To create a new fist art that unified the **Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist** and the **Vajra
-Shattering Fist**.

‘A wall…’

Yuri, too, was facing something like a wall.

The wall of the Fourth Tier.

Thinking about it, he had grown too quickly. Even accounting for learning the divine art **Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique**, it hadn’t even been half a year since he truly began martial training—yet he had already reached the Third Tier and now stood before the Fourth.

‘It’s hard to compare with other possessors, so I can’t tell how fast this really is.’

On his first day leaving Aldor, Haryeong had told him something.

It was about mages, but still—someone with average talent would take five years to reach Second Tier, around ten to reach Third.

Tiers were similar to levels. Just like leveling up got harder the higher you went, advancing tiers grew increasingly difficult.

‘They said reaching Fifth Tier is where it gets terrifyingly hard.’

That was supposedly where the true wall began.

How would that difficulty apply to possessors?

‘Too bad I don’t know exactly what tier that bastard Chuk Shin-do is.’

If he knew the exact tier, he could make some rough comparisons.

The minimum qualification to enter the ranks of the Martial Zeniths was Seventh Tier. But that didn’t mean they were all exactly Seventh. Powerhouses at that level didn’t go around announcing their precise tiers. For all he knew, Chuk Shin-do might already be Eighth.

“…Sigh.”

Training martial arts and raising tiers was honestly fun—but the road ahead was so absurdly long that he couldn’t help sighing.

At the very least, wouldn’t he need to reach Seventh Tier just to sit at the same table as Chuk Shin-do?

Judging by how he treated Bakered, the man didn’t seem completely rotten to the core—but there was no guarantee he’d be so reasonable with possessors. Acting familiar carelessly might just get his head smashed in by a **Demon-Guiding Orb**.

He needed to grow to a comparable level first.

Shaking off his thoughts, Yuri returned to reality and reached into the pile of letters, pulling out a small pouch of money.

Savings from Yuri’s pickpocket days back when he was an orphan.

If money ever needed spending, Elena would surely step in first—but he packed it into his bag anyway.

‘Maybe I’ll buy a gift or something…’

He’d received countless things from Elena so far, yet he’d never given her anything. She didn’t seem to want or need anything in particular… maybe just a small souvenir from Lagos.

‘Not like it’s a tourist spot or anything.’

Chuckling to himself, Yuri opened another drawer. He packed all his martial manuals into his bag, even though he’d practically memorized them—just in case he needed to recheck anything unclear.

Spare clothes and underwear. Extra equipment he’d bought yesterday. Even after stuffing quite a lot inside, the magical backpack didn’t change shape.

After finishing, he slung it over his shoulders to test it. Lighter than military gear, and even without using internal energy, it didn’t feel heavy.

Thanks to half a year of steady external training.

That night—

He thought he might struggle to sleep, feeling nervous, excited, and restless.

But once he lay down, he slept just fine, as usual.

“Oh.”

After eating, washing up, and getting dressed, he came downstairs to the living room to find Haryeong already there. She wore the same black martial outfit as when he first saw her in Aldor, her face mask pulled down around her neck.

“We just saw each other the other day. What are you admiring?”

“Couldn’t help it. You look like a complete rookie no matter who sees you.”

Ignoring the teasing, Yuri glanced at the mirror.

Her assessment was accurate.

He was fully equipped—but everything was shiny and new. The boots weren’t broken in yet and felt awkward. The belt around his waist was stiff. He didn’t feel weighed down, but he kept noticing the daggers attached to it.

The most unfamiliar thing was the robe worn as an outer layer. It was expensive and almost weightless, comfortable to move in—but he’d simply never worn something like this in his life.

He hadn’t bought a main weapon. Some martial artists used metal gauntlets or leather gloves, but those didn’t suit the **Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist**, which required delicate use of the fingers as well as the fists.

“Ready?”

After a moment, Elena came out.

Unlike Haryeong, who looked exactly the same as when he first met her, Elena wasn’t wearing a white dress. Instead, she wore a plain purple robe and boots, with a short wand in one hand. She looked unmistakably like a mage—and far more seasoned than Yuri, whose gear still smelled new.

“First time seeing you carry a wand.”

“It’s easier in real combat.”

She puffed out her chest proudly and raised it.

“Tower Master gave it to me as a gift when I reached Fourth Tier.”

“How much?”

“You can’t buy this with money! She used it herself back in the day!”

“So it’s secondhand?”

“You really—!”

Wands and staves helped with mana control. Those with poor affinity needed them, and even those with great affinity usually used them in unpredictable combat.

And the longer such tools were used, the more they absorbed the mage’s nature. Even an ordinary wooden staff could become an ancient artifact if used for decades by a great mage.

A wand once used by Heaven-Thunder Orca would be priceless for any lightning-aspect mage.

He listened to her explanation as they left the estate.

“None of you have been to Lagos before, right?”

Yuri, hood up, glanced at the sky. Clear and sunny—but not hot. Expensive gear often came with comfort enchantments.

“Have you been, Haryeong?”

“When I was young.”

“How many years ago was that?”

“Stop trying to fish for my age.”

Clicking her tongue, Haryeong opened the carriage door and climbed into the driver’s seat. Even after half a year, she remained full of secrets. He didn’t even know her age—or whether ‘Haryeong’ was her real name.

“Lagos is one of the more manageable rifts. It’s commonly used as a training ground for low-tier warriors and mages.”

Lagos.

It had existed in the game too, so Lee Su-hyeok knew it well. As she said, it was a popular low-level hunting ground.

No named NPCs. No boss monsters. Occasionally, unique monsters appeared as random encounters that gave extra experience.

That was it.

Skills and items dropped were mediocre. A pure leveling zone. Even builds that didn’t rely on skill combinations could brute-force it with raw levels alone.

‘The Rift of Chaos…’

In the game, there hadn’t been any such “setting.” Hunting grounds like that were common, so he’d never wondered why monsters endlessly spawned.

“Pure ‘warriors’ who don’t choose paths like adventurer or mercenary usually dislike fighting monsters instead of people—but Lagos is a place where you can legally gain real combat experience.”

Legally.

Yuri couldn’t help laughing at that word. Big cities like Lutran had real law enforcement—but outside the city, the world was a mess. If you died out there, it was practically considered natural causes.

“So we only need to watch out for monsters in Lagos?”

At the sudden question, Haryeong’s eyes glinted.

For just a moment, it almost looked like she was smiling.

“Not just Lagos. Anywhere—you should be wary of people.”

She liked that question.

Unlike Elena, who had grown up protected, this man who’d lived a hard life clearly understood the world’s dangers.

A good thing. No matter how talented you were, if you underestimated the world, you died easily.

“It’s true that Lagos is manageable. Decades old, well-documented monster patterns. But even there, people die or go missing every month.”

Her eyes returned to normal.

“Whether those deaths are caused by monsters or people, no one can say. Though sometimes sloppy killers fail to dispose of bodies properly and get caught…”

She trailed off and glanced at Elena.

She expected tension—

But instead, Elena was simply staring straight at Yuri.

*Good grief.*

Was she actually hoping that man would get scared?
*I hate adventuring, it’s scary, I just want to stay with Elena forever.*
Was she hoping he’d say something like that?

*…Surely not.*

Still, the thought that it wasn’t entirely impossible crossed her mind.

“With an outstanding assassin like me and Lady Elena accompanying you, there’s nothing to worry about this time. But when you’re on your own next time, Yuri, please stay alert.”

She briefly considered scaring him more blatantly to satisfy Elena’s expectations—but seeing Yuri’s serious expression, she lost the urge to joke around.

“I look forward to seeing whether the luck of the thirty-five-hundred-million man shines in Logos as well.”

“I’m kinda looking forward to it too.”

Elena chimed in, inwardly disappointed that Yuri wasn’t trembling. Yuri, meanwhile, tilted his head, having no idea what the two were talking about.

“Luck? Looking forward to what?”

“Very rarely, in places like Lagos, a ‘fortuitous encounter’ happens.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It refers to encountering monsters with **inner cores** or discovering **spirit medicines**.”

In rifts where the Evil God’s divine power pooled and monsters spawned abnormally, occasional mana surges occurred. Monsters born during those surges formed inner cores inside their bodies, and even ordinary weeds could become spirit herbs infused with mana.

‘Random encounters with unique monsters…’

“They say even seeing one a year is rare. But if we run into one? I shudder just imagining how many billions our thirty-five-hundred-million man Yuri might become.”

“But inner cores or spirit herbs from Lagos can’t be that amazing, right?”

“There’s variance, but on average, they’d be about the level of the **Azure Heaven Pill**.”

“If we find one, Yuri, you can take it.”

Hearing Haryeong’s teasing and Elena’s generous-sounding offer, Yuri couldn’t bring himself to laugh.

Haryeong always said Yuri was lucky—

But Lee Su-hyeok, and Yuri too, weren’t lucky at all.

If anything, they were terribly unlucky.

Lee Su-hyeok lost his parents in an accident at a young age.

Yuri had been abandoned in front of an orphanage before he could even babble.

Lee Su-hyeok had been kidnapped to another world simply for playing a game well.

Yuri had been stabbed and killed before some unknown stranger from another world stole his body.

Two people who absolutely couldn’t be called lucky had become one.

‘Though after possession… things did seem to go well.’

Did misfortune times misfortune become luck? Was the wretched fate that had dogged him finally turning around?

He wanted to think positively, but the truth was his circumstances were still twisted. Yuri forced a smile.

“Well, nothing like that will actually show up anyway.”

The carriage started moving.

*

*

*I am the fire that carries out heaven’s punishment,
the asura that destroys evil,
the apostle who sets the laws of heaven aright.*

*My hands bear the sacred flame, my feet trample demons.*

*If the world is evil, I burn and cleanse it with my fire.*

*The corpses of trampled demons become my firewood.*

*Ten thousand demons burn beneath me—thus I am hell itself.*

*If even that is not enough to purify all, then I myself am the sacred flame.*

*Even if heaven does not desire this—*

*Even if the path I set right is called heresy—then I…*

“….”

Her eyes opened.

The woman blinked slowly as she sat still, then calmly surveyed her surroundings. Around her were terrified paladins and priests.

The Dual Saints of the Martial Zenith.

The Calamity Saint, **Lorellia**, pressed her thumb against the fingers resting on her knee. *Crack.* The sound of bone snapping broke the silence.

“What is this?”

A bright smile spread across her cold, emotionless face. It was a beautiful smile—but those kneeling around her felt only fear. A weak priest began hiccupping in terror, and even hardened paladins broke into cold sweat.

“My punishment isn’t over yet, is it? So why are my brothers and sisters here?”

The Punishment Hall of the Order.

Half a year ago, Lorellia entered the Punishment Hall.

Because she had violated the Order’s absolute laws.

A priest of Order must never show special treatment to a possessor.

They were only meant to explain the situation and provide basic knowledge according to guidelines.

But Loreklia hadn’t.

To begin with, she was the Order’s violence incarnate—not someone assigned to guide possessors.

Half a year ago, she subdued the priest scheduled to receive the possessor. Then she entered the waiting chamber herself. She didn’t follow the guidelines. She stayed there a long time—and even passed on some of her martial arts to the possessor.

If any other priest had done that, mere confinement in the Punishment Hall wouldn’t have been enough.

But the current Order lacked the power—and the will—to execute Lorellia.

So the compromise had been imprisonment.

And even that was voluntary.

Because of that, she had never even been properly interrogated. Interrogation was difficult anyway—information about possessors was sealed by divine prohibition. Even if they wanted to speak, they couldn’t.

Still, everyone could guess.

The Order monitored the Evil God’s trap through the Goddess’s miracle.

Only one possessor could cross over at this time.

But even the High Priest couldn’t learn *why* the Calamity Saint had broken the law for that possessor. Lorellia kept her mouth shut through every inquiry and locked herself away.

“Why is no one answering me?”

Her refreshing smile remained, but her blood-red eyes shone stickily. Her crimson gaze swept across each face slowly.

“Because of your presence, I couldn’t even finish my meditation properly! Surely you didn’t come here for no reason? Don’t tell me you came to mock poor Lorellia, imprisoned here?”

“N-no…”

“Ah! Finally an answer. Then why are you here?”

“The High Priest… has summoned you…”

“The High Priest is too much! I’ve been here for months reflecting on my sins, and not once has he come to visit!”

She raised her voice dramatically, spreading her arms wide.

“Ahh! How heartless. But it can’t be helped. I am aware that I am a sinner! I am reflecting! That’s why I’m here.”

The more she spoke, the more the priests and paladins shrank back. The Punishment Hall was filled with restraints—but if she truly wished, she could destroy it with a smile.

“The High Priest… is receiving a guest.”

“A guest? Who dares visit this sanctuary, and who could be important enough for that heavy-seated High Priest to greet personally?”

Sweating profusely, the priest lowered his voice.

“The Heavenly Demon.”

The air froze.

Lorelia stared at him blankly, then slowly tilted her head. There were no windows in the Punishment Hall—but her crimson eyes pierced through thick walls, toward a distant annex.

“That old man came looking for his grave site, even bringing a disciple?”

“I… don’t know, but… he wishes to meet you…”

“He came all this way in his old age. I should at least meet him. If he wishes, Lorellia will personally send that old man off from this world.”

She rose with a cold smile.

—Creeeeak!

Before anyone could open it, the thick iron bars bent.

She stepped through the opening. The heavy shackles around her wrists and ankles twisted and shattered on their own.

“Ah.”

Before heading to the annex, she paused and looked back at a pale priest.

“Sister. Exactly how much time has passed since I entered the Punishment Hall?”

“O-one hundred eighty-seven days…”

“I see!”

Lorelia smiled brightly and nodded.

*Has it ripened enough, I wonder?*

She had broken the law—and even sent him a precious gift.

It would be troublesome if he hadn’t grown accordingly.