Failed Possession Chapter-61

## Ch-61.

—

Unless he were a mage of equal or higher Rank, the opponent was merely a 5th Rank martial artist.

He had not conjured flame through magic. What his foot traced was aura.

It was impossible to burn away the curse binding the wraiths under Old Withered Crone’s command. And yet that impossible thing had just occurred before her eyes.

A 5th Rank martial artist who had entered the realm of Aura could apply the attribute transformation of inner power experienced at 4th Rank directly into Aura.

For a swordsman, sharpening Sword Aura to greater keenness was basic. Depending on the martial art cultivated, one could add heat or cold.

There was no heat in his Aura. And yet it was undeniably flame. A blazing fire that devoured everything it touched.

Look. The crimson line traced by his foot did not fade—it burned even more vividly than at first. The curse that had bound the wraith became firewood that fed that flame.

‘What kind of martial art is that…?’

The Rudella Magic Tower had long maintained close exchanges with the Demonic Cult, so Old Withered Crone’s knowledge of martial arts was not narrow.

Among demonic arts that steal another’s inner power and make it one’s own, the most famous was Absorbing Star Grand Art. A martial artist who mastered it properly would possess inner power overwhelmingly deep compared to others of the same Rank—yet he was like a bomb that might explode at any moment.

Inner power not accumulated purely carried such risks.

‘That isn’t Absorbing Star.’

It was not stolen—it was devoured.

Violently blazing flames eventually die down slowly.

She had never seen such a martial art. What remained after burning was nothing but pitch-black ash. From its very foundation, it was ferocious and savage.

‘The flame is only the impression I feel. It is not a martial art of extreme yang. Yet though it is not hot, it is no different from flame. How can that be?’

Such a phenomenon was impossible with mere 5th Rank attribute transformation.

‘Intent…?’

Violence honed through mental image and will. A realm one only enters at 6th Rank.

Divine arts were what allowed one to transcend the wall of Rank. The Young Cult Leader’s Heavenly Demon Divine Art exerting dominance over surrounding qi was because intent had been added to it. And the Sword Dragon’s Sword Aura cleaving through her magic was likewise due to intent layered within.

All divine arts were built upon the use of intent. That heatless flame was the intent born of his divine art.

In other words, that unknown man… had mastered a divine art comparable to Heavenly Demon Divine Art and Orsia’s Sword Saint Form.

“Who are you?”

Old Withered Crone glared at Yuri and spat the question.

“I’ve never heard of someone like you. Where did you crawl out from?”

There was no need to answer. Yuri did not bother forming a reply. He focused solely on the incantation of Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique.

*I am the fire that executes heavenly punishment, the asura that eradicates evil, the apostle who sets right the principles of heaven.*

*My hands uphold holy flame; my feet tread upon demons.*

—For two years he had recited that incantation every single day without fail.

Whenever he sank deep into meditation and looked within himself, he saw flame burning. Burning his will to cross the wall—when he reached 5th Rank.

Yuri realized instinctively.

‘This incantation is incomplete.’

If he trained solely with Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique, he would inevitably strike a wall. Perhaps reaching 6th Rank was possible. But to ascend to 7th Rank, the incompleteness within the incantation would have to be supplemented.

Was it incomplete from the beginning? Or had Lorellia intentionally concealed part of it? He did not know.

It was undeniably a divine art. Yet Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique had at its foundation the risk of qi deviation. If he became too absorbed, the flame cultivated by it would devour even himself and burn him to ash.

Perhaps Lorellia had delivered it incomplete because of that danger. When he reached 5th Rank, Yuri had come to that conclusion.

Truth aside, 6th Rank was possible with Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique. To cross the wall of 7th Rank, he would either have to supplement the lacking incantation himself or seek Lorellia’s guidance.

‘I am fire.’

The incantation returned to its beginning. He had long understood intent. The moment he crossed the wall and reached 4th Rank, he had burned his will—his killing intent.

That too could be called intent. The flame of Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique corresponded to intent.

The protective Aura covering Yuri’s body wavered. He remained in the air. Old Withered Crone glared at him.

Her staff moved slightly. The wraiths filling the sky shrieked and surged toward him.

Yuri’s foot rose higher. As if climbing steps, his body ascended another measure. The trailing foot naturally lifted to his waist.

There was no wall or door before him. Yet his foot kicked forward as if there were.

Boom!

An explosion erupted. The Aura concentrated in his foot burst wide, scattering crimson light. The wraiths were briefly blocked.

Yuri paused there. If he were alone against Old Withered Crone, it would be one thing—but he was not the only one trying to kill her.

The first to leap was Sword Dragon.

Sword Dragon, Estor Orsia.

He was in shock in many ways. In his entire life, he had never experienced a day with so many shocks as today.

‘Without fail.’

Though the situation was urgent and he could not spare his gaze, Sword Dragon thought of the man whose name he had not yet heard.

‘I will absolutely learn his name. And I will absolutely invite him to the Orsia Family.’

There was much to discuss. In truth, it would likely be Sword Dragon asking questions one-sidedly—but he resolved himself thus.

To do that, the old witch must die first.

Whoosh! Sword Aura covering his sword writhed. As Sword Dragon swung, the Aura left the blade and shot upward like a living thing.

It resembled a golden dragon ascending to heaven. Indeed, the Sword Aura took the form of a dragon, opening its great maw and devouring the wraiths controlled by Old Withered Crone.

‘What kind of martial art is that…?’

Bi-yeon too questioned Yuri’s identity.

As the Young Cult Leader of the Heavenly Demon Cult who had seen many martial arts before inheriting Heavenly Demon Divine Art, she found Yuri’s Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique astonishing. She could not identify it—but such a martial art would not fall short even compared to divine arts hidden in the deepest vaults of the Cult.

‘Sword Dragon’s ally…?’

Bi-yeon set aside her doubts and brought her palms together before her chest. Rather than leaping upward herself, she condensed Heavenly Demon Divine Art’s Aura between her hands.

Rumble…! Pitch-black Aura swirled into a small sphere.

Black Smoke Extinguishing Jade Aura.

Among Aura techniques, Heavenly Demon Divine Art was considered supreme. The condensed sphere left Bi-yeon’s hands and rose into the sky.

Sword Dragon, who had been releasing Golden Dragons, spared it a glance—perhaps wishing to see its nature.

Yuri abruptly grabbed Sword Dragon by the back of the neck. Before Sword Dragon could shout in surprise, Yuri pulled him down with him.

Black Smoke Extinguishing Jade Aura detonated.

There was no loud explosion. The Aura condensed to its limit spread as black smoke. The smoke dominated surrounding qi, expanding further, erasing even the wraiths under Old Withered Crone’s control.

It was as if a vat of ink had been poured into the sky.

Bi-yeon clenched both fists as she stared upward.

Without sound, the smoke burst apart, and the sky became empty.

“Were you trying to kill me too?!”

Sword Dragon shouted once he grasped what had happened.

“You should’ve dodged yourself.”

Bi-yeon replied flatly. Though they had formed a common front to kill Old Withered Crone, they were strangers who had met today—there was no way their coordination would be perfect.

“You—”

Sword Dragon flinched before finishing. Yuri, still gripping him by the neck, also stiffened slightly and stared upward.

Old Withered Crone was nowhere to be seen. In her place remained only thick gray mist.

—Thud.

The mist swirled. From the increasingly dense gray torrent, hundreds of thin lines emerged. Yuri felt every hair on his body stand on end at those unknown lines.

“Divine One.”

Old Withered Crone’s voice came from within the mist.

Crackle! She sacrificed wraiths without hesitation—and beyond that, poured in divine power.

“Your insignificant servant offers what is mine and begs for a miracle. Grant a miracle to slay these unbelievers and offer them unto You.”

Her prayer reached.

The mist writhed, and the hundreds of lines slowly parted.

Hundreds of eyes opened.

Every gaze looked down upon the earth.

There was no killing intent, no hostility—no emotion in the tilt of lids. Simply eyes.

Aaaaah!

The wraiths dissolved into the mist and cried out—not in screams of agony, but in something like exultation.

Then the eyes vanished.

The mist poured downward.

It transformed into hundreds, thousands of hands. They clawed and grasped wildly as they descended upon them.

Yuri glanced urgently toward Haryeong.

She had already roughly dealt with the grotesque corpse constructs and retreated to the far end of the underground chamber.

Beside her was the exit the cultists had fled through.

Yuri stared at her in disbelief.

Haryeong suddenly thrust a fist toward him.

Her thumb rose upright.

As if one was insufficient, she raised the other fist and stuck out that thumb as well.

Yuri swallowed what he wanted to say and turned his head.

Yuri, Bi-yeon, and Sword Dragon each moved in different directions.

Bi-yeon ignored the hands as much as possible and leapt toward Old Withered Crone.

Sword Dragon swung his sword at the hands. Brilliant golden dragons shot forth repeatedly, blocking them, but he could not sever many. Strengthened by the Evil God’s miracle, the hands were no longer easily cut.

Yuri remained beside Sword Dragon.

This was his first time fighting cultists—and divine power and miracles were unfamiliar to him.

‘It feels like the magic itself has been strengthened. Can it be used differently?’

Boom!

Sword Dragon’s body was forced backward. He did not seem injured, but his face twisted in irritation at being pushed back.

“Careful!”

The warning was for Yuri.

Hands Sword Dragon had failed to block surged toward him. Yuri did not hesitate. His leg moved.

Bang bang bang!

His kicks bent and snapped like whips, blocking the front. He linked his kicks continuously, destroying the hands. Sword Dragon, glancing sideways at him, swallowed admiration and refocused on his blade, cutting the hands as if competing.

They aimed for Old Withered Crone herself—but reaching her was not easy.

Unlike the pale wraiths before, these “hands” had solid form and immense strength.

And there were too many.

No matter how many they destroyed, there seemed no end.

Their inner power was still abundant.

But their intent was drying.

Even divine arts that allowed one to dip into higher realms carried immense burden when unleashing attacks beyond one’s Rank.

Forcing his way through the flailing defense of hands, Bi-yeon thrust her right fist in. The moment she opened her clenched fist, black Aura exploded over Old Withered Crone.

“Kaak!”

A hoarse scream.

Old Withered Crone staggered.

Even after detonating Aura at point-blank range, the damage was merely her left arm hanging in tatters. A severe wound—but she was a mage of the Rudella Magic Tower.

“How dare you!”

The tattered arm regenerated in an instant. Wrinkles spread across her previously less-lined face; hair fell out in clumps.

Rudella mages sought immortality. Through magic they sought to overcome every form of death.

‘She isn’t consuming wraiths. Does she not wish to slow her offense?’

Unlike typical Rudella mages who consumed wraiths or life force, Old Withered Crone did not further suppress aging. She regenerated by expending soul force.

‘Or… can she not consume the wraiths?’

She had offered them. The wraiths strengthened by miracle were no longer hers. As manifestations of the Evil God’s miracle, she could no longer consume them.

Having reached that conclusion, Bi-yeon’s attacks grew more daring.

Each time she forced close-range combat, Old Withered Crone shrieked in a cracked elderly voice and unleashed magic.

Bi-yeon hated that voice.

It resembled her own voice, ruined by fire qi. A scraping-metal tone—hoarse, cracked, unpleasant.

Behind her mask, Bi-yeon bit her lip.

‘I will kill her.’

Two others here also sought to kill Old Withered Crone. Though they fought together by chance, she did not wish to concede the act of killing her directly.

To Bi-yeon, her master’s command was absolute.

Though he had not explicitly said *you must kill her*, that command was no different from heavenly decree.

Her gaze dropped below. Sword Dragon and the man were dealing with the hands.

She felt a piercing stare. Sword Dragon was glaring fiercely in her direction, as if ready to leap at any moment to strike Old Withered Crone.

The other man’s gaze… was calm. He was observing.

Me? Old Withered Crone?

The most insidious and most dangerous one here was likely that man. Bi-yeon thought—he might even be stronger than Sword Dragon.

—

—

‘This.’

Yuri drew his foot back.

‘It’s about time.’

He did not know how many times he had swung his legs.

He had created it out of necessity, never intending to teach it to anyone, so there was no grand incantation attached to it. He could separate the movements into formal techniques, but he had not felt the need.

Still, it was a martial art. He had yet to name it.

‘A kick that draws a crimson curve… Crimson Blood Flowing Kick?’

Too blatant?

‘The name can come later.’

A kicking technique he had refined in his mind and used in real combat.

Only now did it feel *complete*.

Something tingled deep in his chest.

This kicking art could stand alone, but it was far more powerful when combined with what Yuri had already mastered.

Though he had been cutting and kicking repeatedly, the momentum of the hands did not diminish.

“No end to them.”

He spoke to Sword Dragon.

Grinding his teeth while swinging his blade, Sword Dragon shot him a glance.

“If you know that, then do it properly.”

“I’m doing my best.”

“Use your fists too!”

Sword Dragon snapped irritably.

“Fine.”

Yuri nodded without excuse.

“I’ll hold them. You fall back.”

“What?”

“From the looks of it, you’ve got plenty of inner power. Gather it all and throw one big strike.”

“…Can you endure?”

Sword Dragon asked, slightly surprised.

Yuri raised both hands and clenched his fists, saying nothing as he stepped past him.

Sword Dragon let out a dry laugh and gripped his sword with both hands.

Rumble!

Enormous inner power surged from his dantian, wrapping his blade in Aura. He focused, forging the turbulent golden energy. The wildly writhing Aura gradually settled into stillness.

Yuri inwardly admired the tremendous power at his back.

At the same time, he suppressed a laugh.

It had been over two years since he crossed into this world, yet his memory of the game remained vivid.

He did not rely on memory alone—he had even written things down in case he forgot.

He had heard many times that one should not depend blindly on game knowledge—but regardless, information was precious.

Especially the “levels” of high-level NPCs.

Excluding the hidden boss, the Evil God, the highest-level NPC in the game had been the Heavenly Demon.

Level 95.

Before the hidden boss was discovered, the Heavenly Demon had been the final boss.

Next highest was the Sword Emperor, Alvator Orsia, at level 90.

In this world, Alvator was considered the One Emperor, rival of the Heavenly Demon—but in the game, it had not been so. There was a five-level difference.

Yet beyond level, no one in the community had regarded the Sword Emperor as the second strongest after the Heavenly Demon.

Lee Su-hyeok had thought the same. If one had to choose second after the Heavenly Demon, it was not the Sword Emperor—but Arsen Lucionel, the Apex.

In-game, Arsen had been level 87. Lower than the Sword Emperor. But as in most games, level was not everything.

‘Sword Emperor is overrated as hell.’

That had been Lee Su-hyeok’s thought when he first defeated him, and the community sentiment had been similar.

Apex Arsen unleashed every kind of magic. With such diverse elemental barrages, preparing for only one element was meaningless. But if you filled your limited skill slots and resources solely with resistances, you became a sandbag.

The orthodox strategy was pattern memorization—but his patterns were tricky. One mistake meant GAME OVER. Without absurd magic resistance, even a single hit meant death.

The Sword Emperor?

His specs were undeniably high. Even if you invested heavily in HP and defense, a critical hit from his basic attack meant instant death.

But unlike Apex, his patterns were too honest. The fundamental reason behind the “Sword Emperor is overrated” discourse was that his ultimate attack blatantly left an opening for counterattack. At first, you might die trying to dodge blindly—but once familiar, damage windows became easy.

Even now, Sword Dragon was repeating the Sword Emperor’s flaw. That ultimate-like strike was devastating—but left huge openings during preparation.

‘Well, I laid the board for him this time… In a real fight, maybe those flaws wouldn’t show.’

Honestly, Yuri hoped he would never have to fight the Sword Emperor at all.

He cast the thought aside and moved forward.

He looked ahead—but could not see clearly.

Flailing movements. Grasping, clawing, striking, tearing… every attack possible with hands filled his vision.

Hoo.

He drew a breath and raised both hands.

He did not think about the countless hands before him.

He needed to think of only two hands.

‘Left hand half-open, slightly forward.’

‘Right hand clenched tight, slightly back.’

Deflect the incoming strike with the left, step forward, punch. Without retracting, open the fist, rotate the palm, sweep aside. Then the left becomes a fist.

His feet must not be still. Hands move because feet advance.

Naturally, Yuri stepped with Storm-wind Cloud Steps and unleashed Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist.

A chill and exhilaration struck simultaneously.

Body and mind were perfectly aligned.

Mind-body unity.

Not his first time feeling it—but this immersion always thrilled him.

‘No. Not enough.’

Even so, it felt lacking.

He could do more.

He mocked the satisfaction he had felt completing the kicking technique earlier. Enough? Not even close. It needed further honing.

‘Still… let’s try.’

He suppressed the smile that threatened to form.

Hands were not only in front of him. Like wind-blown clouds, he flowed—until he stood deep within their center.

Everywhere he looked was attack. Countless hands striking, grasping, clawing, tearing.

Two hands were not enough.

He dragged his stepping leg long.

Snap!

His rising leg scraped upward. His body spun half a turn, fist following. Two arms, two legs.

But the trajectories he drew were not merely four.

Now he was fast, fluid, changing.

‘Still lacking.’

Though he moved without obstruction, he felt lacking.

Because there was more to add.

Crackle!

Lightning from Purple Thunder Flash Art mixed into his inner power.

As lightning qi blended into the energy flowing through his meridians, his movements transformed again.

Clouds flowed—then lightning burst within them.

Crack!

Lightning scattered along the trails left by fists and feet.

Sword Dragon momentarily forgot himself watching Yuri.

Yuri rampaged freely within the storm of hands, all of them focused solely on him.

Sword Dragon was confident he could handle the hands.

But he felt he could not do *that*.

“Ha ha…!”

Laughing, he raised his sword high.

Another reason to invite him to Orsia.

Sword Dragon wanted to fight that man someday.

“Move!”

At the shouted warning, Yuri immediately leapt upward.

Flailing hands tried to seize him—but once he resolved to escape, they could not hold him.

Seeing Yuri ascend, Sword Dragon swung.

Golden light tore through space, erasing all the hands.

“Kaaargh!”

The massive annihilation dealt Old Withered Crone a heavy blow.

The backlash of vast soul force loss made her stagger violently.

‘W-what…?’

Her mind reeled.

She had divided her focus dealing with the persistently clinging Young Cult Leader.

No—this was absurd.

Two 5th Rank martial artists enduring a 6th Rank mage empowered by miracle was unbelievable enough—yet they had counterattacked and annihilated it?

‘Radiant Sword?!’

Her eyes widened as she looked below.

The brilliant light enveloping Sword Dragon’s blade.

A technique symbolizing the Sword Emperor—compressing Sword Aura and heating it to white incandescence.

Had Sword Dragon reached the realm of Radiant Sword?

‘Impossible. How can a 5th Rank…?’

—Genius transcends the laws of Rank.

—Rank is merely an average.

—Old Withered Crone. The reason you cannot cross the wall of 7th Rank is simple.

—Your talent ends there.

Ten years ago.

Words spoken by Corpse Immortal Spirit echoed in her mind.

I hate them.

Without the talent of a genius, she would not have reached 6th Rank.

But the higher one rose, the more one despaired before those who stood even higher.

For Old Withered Crone, Corpse Immortal Spirit had been that existence.

It was not only mediocrities who envied geniuses.

Geniuses envied greater geniuses.

Perhaps even more fiercely.

Because one lives believing oneself to be a genius—believing one can naturally reach higher. Only to confront reality and discover one cannot.

To remain stagnant.

To be left behind.

To realize one is not a true genius.

That despair is something mediocrities can never understand.

‘I hate them.’

Blood filled her mouth.

Her eyes turned toward Bi-yeon.

The masked Young Cult Leader of the Demonic Cult, approaching with that hoarse, unpleasant voice.

She knew Old Withered Crone could barely maintain herself and was coming to finish her.

‘If only you weren’t here.’

She could have sealed Sword Dragon and that man and escaped.

If that girl had not interfered nearby, she might have focused and slaughtered them all.

—Corpse Immortal Spirit said the reason you weren’t killed was because it was bothersome.

The Young Cult Leader’s words scraped her killing intent raw.

‘At least you.’

Old Withered Crone glared at Bi-yeon as she prepared the rampage and collapse of her soul force.