17 – Staff Demon (5)

Thud!

With a dull, heavy boom, Chui’s spear slammed into the cliff.

After piercing straight through Gon-gwi’s skull, the spearhead bored deep into the solid rock.

The utterly mangled corpse was nailed to the edge of the cliff.

Hoooooo—
A bleak wind blew, rocking Gon-gwi’s corpse gently from side to side.

And beneath it—

“Hoo—”

Chui let out a long, spent breath.

The silken thread attached to the spear shaft drooped, stained crimson as blood ran down it.

Grasping the thread, now dyed a deep red, Chui slowly climbed up the cliff.

‘…My condition’s not good.’

Chui checked his own body.

His head was cracked, his internal organs were not a single one intact.

All his ribs were broken, and both legs felt as though they had been shattered to pieces.

The only reason he could still move at all was thanks to the life force he had barely wrung out of countless spear demons.

Crunch—

The silken thread wrapped tightly around his palm bit into his flesh, catching on bone.

Gritting his teeth, Chui wound the thread around his hand and hauled himself up.

Thud!

Chui collapsed onto the top of the cliff.

Drip, drip—rain began to fall.

The raindrops grew heavier, washing over the corpse of Gon-gwi nailed to the cliff.

Chui, too, felt the blood soaking his body slowly being washed away.

Before long, Chui’s pupils returned to black.

“…”

Chui pushed himself upright.

His organs were ruptured and his bones broken, but he was not dead.

As long as he did not die, he would eventually recover.

That was the very nature of the unfathomable demonic art, Spear Demon Possession.

‘Hong-gong… he never let go of hope until the very end, either.’

Chui recalled the face of the Blood Demon who had taught him.

Even after being driven to a distant frontier battlefield, even with a body half-paralyzed, he had still been able to dream of revenge—all thanks to the miraculous regenerative power of Spear Demon Possession.

Shhhhhh—

The rain poured down like madness.

A yellow-brown waterfall formed along the cliff.

Just as Chui barely managed to lift his upper body—

Kraaaang!

A bolt of lightning tore down from the sky.

By sheer coincidence, it struck directly onto the black spear embedded in the cliff, scorching Gon-gwi’s corpse into a charred mummy.

Rumble—!

The cliff began to collapse.

Chui crawled through the mud, inch by inch, until he escaped the edge of the cliff.

Then—

Woo—wooooo—

Something stirred beneath the collapsed cliff.

Gon-gwi.

A formidable enemy he could never have defeated by ordinary means or conventional methods.

It appeared once more before Chui.

His entire body was drenched in crimson, and with a terrifying gaze, he stood in the mud, glaring at Chui.

Yet Chui was not particularly surprised by Gon-gwi’s resurrection.

“Gon-gwi Gu Gangryong.”

Chui extended his hand.

Gon-gwi flinched.

A supreme master.

An unparalleled warrior capable of dominating an entire region.

Gon-gwi, who once roamed the entire martial world alone, running rampant throughout the lands of the Unorthodox Path.

“Gon-gwi Gu Gangryong.”

At Chui’s call, his body trembled.

Step—

Gon-gwi climbed up from the cliff and set foot on solid ground.

Step—

Footsteps drenched entirely in blood.

Step—

They drew closer and closer to Chui.

Then—

“Gon-gwi Gu Gangryong.”

Chui spoke his name a total of three times.

Tsssss—

The wraith of Gon-gwi, having reached Chui, dissolved into red mist and was absorbed into Chui’s body from head to toe.

“Hoo—”

Chui let out a long breath.

A spear demon of supreme-master level had attached itself to him.

Taming this one would take quite some time.

‘I’ve obtained a fine medicinal elixir.’

Chui nodded.

The materials needed to advance from ‘Gulgak’ to ‘Iol’ were now in place.

‘First, I need to recover my body. I can open the Ren and Du meridians after that.’

Chui crawled out of the mud.

Beneath a pine forest, where dry pine needles lay thick.

The needles above were so dense that even the rain barely reached the ground.

Chui brushed aside the dry needles, burrowed into the dark red soil beneath, and curled up like a toad.

[Heehee—serves you right!]
[Die! Please, just die!]
[Die buried like that!]
[Buried alive! Buried alive! Buried alive! Buried alive!]
[Don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up don’t wake up…]

The ghosts within his mind wailed.

They held rites, waiting for Chui’s death.

…but they would never get what they wanted.

Because the hatred they bore toward Chui instead became a potent tonic that restored his body.

How much time had passed?

Thud!

A hand burst up through the hardened earth and pine needles.

Like a frog emerging after hibernation, Chui crawled out from beneath the ground.

“Survived again.”

A voice that sounded as though it had grown accustomed to this.

Chui quietly rose to his feet and headed toward the site of last night’s fierce battle.

The sky—neither dusk nor dawn—was ripened red and golden.

The rain had stopped, and heaven and earth lay in silence.

The water mist, the rope bridge—nothing remained.

The cliff stood clean, as though none of it had ever existed.

Yet there was still one witness left, testifying to the fact that two men had fought to the death here the night before.

A black staff.

One zhang in length.

A crude, rugged weapon with a six-sided shaft.

The beloved weapon Gon-gwi Gu Gangryong had wielded to the very end.

Chui pulled it free from the cliff.

Swoosh!

The cold, distinctive chill of a weapon flowed into his hand.

It was far heavier and sturdier than the black spear he had used before.

Its surface, too, was rough and coarse, scarred with countless nicks.

Chui knew better than anyone how terrifying this staff’s power was—he had taken its blows dozens, hundreds of times himself.

“Staffs aren’t great. I’ll need a spearhead.”

Chui muttered, looking at the blunt end of the staff.

Gon-gwi Gu Gangryong had said it was made of black iron.

And that it had originally been a spear, only becoming a staff after the blade broke off.

If this weapon had retained its original form, Chui might not have been able to contend with Gon-gwi at all.

The same was true for Gon-gwi himself—once a lone wanderer who roamed the martial world freely, only to fall into becoming a dog of the Sado Sect in the end.

“…You can’t lose your teeth.”

That applied to people, and to spears as well.

Chui murmured as he stroked the end of the staff.

This was the first life-and-death battle he had fought since returning.

It served as a chance to tighten the slack he had unconsciously allowed to form after regressing to the past.

Soon after, Chui left the cliffside with the staff in hand.

With the rope bridge destroyed, the way back was long.

On the opposite path along the cliff leading back to Gorae County, Chui recovered the money sack Gon-gwi had left behind.

It seemed Gon-gwi had intended to retrieve it shortly after setting it down, as he had done nothing to it.

The sack was filled with rainwater, dirt, and fallen leaves, but thanks to the weight of the gold ingots inside, nothing had been lost.

Chui poured out the muddy water and sludge from the leather sack, kept only the gold ingots, and slung it over his shoulder.

Then, just as Gon-gwi had done, he hooked the money sack onto the end of the staff and turned back.

He did not sing.

By the time he reached Gorae County, night had fallen deep.

Rain began to fall again.

The downpour was so heavy that being struck by the raindrops caused actual pain.

Squish—squish—squish—

Chui walked barefoot along the roadside.

Perhaps because of the torrential rain, not a single person was out and about.

Just as Chui emerged from an alley and was about to head toward the main road where Hojeong Gate stood—

Rip!

The money sack hanging from the staff tore under the weight of the gold ingots.

Clatter—clang—roll roll roll…

The gold ingots scattered across the road.

As Chui bent down to gather them—

Bang!

A back door in the alley suddenly flew open.

“Hey! Which bastard’s throwing shit all over the road!?”

An inn waiter shouted angrily through the curtain of rain.

The gold ingots, splashed with muddy water, must have looked like lumps of filth to him.

“Pick this up right now! How dare you dump this in front of someone else’s dumpling shop—huh!?”

The waiter cut himself off, gasping.

He had seen Chui’s eerie silhouette standing beyond the rain.

“S-sorry! Please go on your way. I mean, you might’ve really needed to go, right? Y-yeah—just leave it there. I’ll clean it up in the morning. Haha—look at this rain, it’ll just wash away anyway. Nothing to clean, really. Haha—hahahaha…”

Come to think of it, the waiter’s face was familiar.

He was the one Chui had questioned before about Hojeong Gate.

It seemed the waiter recognized Chui as well—he hurriedly clutched his cheek and slammed the back door shut.

“…”

Chui gathered the scattered gold ingots, bundled them back into the sack, and stood up again.

Cold rain pelted his body, yet his body still felt hot.

Like a spearhead just pulled from a furnace, glowing red-hot.

No matter how countless raindrops beat against him, his body did not soften—instead, it felt as though it was being tempered into something even harder.

He felt sleepy.

Suddenly, Chui realized he was staggering.

Blood, mud, rainwater soaking his entire body.

The black staff and the money sack in his hands felt heavier and heavier.

Soon, the back gate of Hojeong Gate would come into view.

Once he climbed over the wall and entered the stable, the first thing he would do was collapse onto the soft hay and sleep deeply, without a care.

Thinking that, Chui slowly stepped onto the mud-soaked road.

At that very moment—

“Excuse me.”

Someone stopped Chui in his tracks.

A clear voice, audible even through the rain.

A voice newly layered onto blood-soaked memories since returning to the past.

Chui lifted his rain-drenched head and looked toward the alley.

“…”

Ho Yeyang was standing there.

 

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