Chapter 61: Spear Spirit’s Pressure (1)

— The spirit of the spear pressed down hard.

Drip! Drip! Drip!

Drops of water fell in a steady rhythm from the ceiling of the cave, forming a small puddle on the ground.

Gugwi leaned his back against the damp rock wall of the cave and examined his body.

The wounds he had received from being slashed and stabbed just three days ago had healed at an unbelievable speed.

New flesh had already grown over the deep sword wound on his shoulder.

A wound over a foot long… deep enough to reach the bone, was now closing up with pink new flesh. The diagonal stab wound on his lower back was the same.

“Vibrating Acupuncture of Blood Points… it’s truly incredible.”

Gugwi inspected his body with astonished eyes.

Fortunately, he had not experienced the side effects that occurred in two out of ten cases.

Thum!

A vibration echoed from his dantian.

A blue light, flowing out from his heart, slowly circulated in rhythm with his pulse. As it flowed through every vessel in his body, it gave the sensation of life itself being amplified.

“Hoo!”

Each breath he inhaled spread a refreshing energy deep into his lungs.

“Namgung Hoyoung!”

Thump!

Gugwi sent his consciousness into the Realm of the Threshold.

In a world of endlessly spreading gray mist, a faint light slowly approached.

It was Namgung Hoyoung.

“At this rate, can I assume there are no side effects? It’s still four days until the full seven, but my body seems almost fully healed. No issues with spiritual energy either. Still… should I wait just in case?”

Gugwi asked directly.

“In… your… blood… flows… the Spirit Flow Core…”

Namgung Hoyoung’s voice was barely audible, as though it could vanish at any moment.

The speech of spirits always came like this—fragmented, like distant wind.

“Amplifies… vitality…”

Namgung Hoyoung spoke with effort.

A faint scent of herbs spread from his hand, warming the cold air of the Realm of the Threshold.

“My recovery speed is abnormally fast. Is this normal?”

“It’s not… normal… Vibrating… Acupuncture… seven days’ difference… Spirit Flow Core is… not merely… healing…”

Gugwi could infer the meaning even through the broken phrases.

His recovery was nearly seven days faster than what the Vibrating Acupuncture of Blood Points should provide. The technique itself already accelerated healing by over fourfold, but his rate was twice that.

Namgung Hoyoung identified the cause as the Spirit Flow Core.

“Take a look at my body and tell me—am I still in danger?”

Namgung Hoyoung carefully examined Gugwi’s wounds. His form flickered for a moment.

“Regenerating… life… itself… danger…”

“So I’m still in danger? Is there a difference between my physical state and how I feel? I don’t sense any danger at all.”

Gugwi tilted his head.

“Spirit Flow Core’s… power… is… a double-edged…”

Namgung Hoyoung suddenly began to tremble violently. His form distorted, as if recalling something utterly terrifying.

“Your body… may not… withstand… its power…”

But he could say no more.

‘Manifest Demon Emperor!’

Gugwi immediately understood the reason behind his silence. The spirits in the Realm of the Threshold never speak of the Manifest Demon Emperor. Any mention of him brings overwhelming fear.

Shaking his head, Gugwi spoke.

“Namgung Hoyoung, this acupuncture is extremely useful. Teach me the technique so I can perform it without your help.”

Gugwi requested.

“For healing… the wounds… the method… of the True Acupuncture Sutras…”

Namgung Hoyoung, with trembling hands, approached Gugwi.

“How to… draw vitality… from the acupoints…”

Fwahng!

Gugwi began circulating the blue light of the Spirit Flow Core.

He carefully adjusted the power of the Spirit Flow Core in sync with Namgung Hoyoung’s faint, threadlike guidance.

“This isn’t just medical arts.”

Gugwi was in awe.

Namgung Hoyoung had elevated the Vibrating Acupuncture of Blood Points to an entirely new level. It was a method that infused the Spirit Flow Core’s energy into the acupuncture needle—what he had been using on Gugwi all this time.

Had Namgung Hoyoung still been alive, he never would have considered using the Spirit Flow Core. It was only because he was a spirit that he could draw upon all the materials within Gugwi’s body.

And now, he was sharing that knowledge.

“This is using vitality to restore vitality. I’m healing myself with my own body.”

“Yes… the essence… of energy and blood… is to preserve… life…”

Namgung Hoyoung’s eyes deepened.

“Your… Spirit Flow Core… amplifies… that essence…”

Namgung Hoyoung grew increasingly faint amidst the mist of the Realm of the Threshold.

“My… medical arts… you… are… the proof…”

Namgung Hoyoung vanished completely. His form dissolved into a bundle of light and disappeared somewhere.

Behind the inn, Yeon Sohye pulled her black headscarf low and concealed herself in the shadows.

Moonlight seeped between the tiled rooftops, casting mottled patches of light in the courtyard.

While raucous laughter from drunken patrons spilled out from the main building of the inn, the rear remained quiet.

Step, step…

Footsteps approached.

Choi Sam carefully climbed over the wall.

“Captain of the Shadow Moon Unit.”

Choi Sam knelt in greeting.

Flash!

Yeon Sohye used the Silver Spirit Technique to wrap them both in a silvery mist. Just in case someone was watching.

“Can you find any leads on the Dark Spirit Sect? Anything will do—even rumors or legends.”

Yeon Sohye’s voice resonated low through the mist.

“I’ll investigate.”

“You should search the temples. The older folks, not the younger ones… It’s a group that was wiped out long ago. See if anyone remembers the name.”

“Understood.”

Choi Sam bowed his head.

“You won’t find anything easily. Keep digging. And don’t include this in the main report. I’ll come back for the findings. Until then, don’t overlook even the smallest clue.”

Yeon Sohye’s eyes were cold.

Choi Sam was an operative of the Black Blood Unit. He had no affiliation with the Cold Wolf Sect. The Black Blood Unit secured his identity, inserted him into secret missions, and then severed ties as if nothing had happened.

He was the perfect man for this job.

“I… accept the command.”

Choi Sam nodded quickly and vanished into the darkness.

Meanwhile, Jang Unhyeok was tipping his glass in a shabby tavern.

The candle flickered over the oil-stained wooden table, casting a faint light through the dim tavern. The air, thick with a mixture of alcohol and sweat, pressed down heavily.

Seated across was a middle-aged martial artist with a thick beard.

It was Ha Dong, Vice Boss of the Iron-Blooded Hall. The passage of time was etched deeply into his face, and an old scar marked his left cheek prominently.

“Brother Ha, it’s been a while.”

Jang Unhyeok poured the drink with a familiar tone. But his eyes were sharply observing the other man, not missing even the slightest twitch in Ha Dong’s expression.

“Brother Jang, I heard you left the Heavenly Sound Cult. What’s going on?”

Ha Dong looked at Jang Unhyeok with suspicion.

The sudden visit from the former—no, ex—Chief of the Intelligence Division of the Heavenly Sound Cult was suspicious.

The tavern’s background chatter wrapped around their conversation.

“If you know I was expelled from the Heavenly Sound Cult, you probably know why I was expelled too…”

Jang Unhyeok gave a bitter smile.

“I’ve been too busy running lately.”

“Are you asking me to hide you?”

Ha Dong’s tone turned cautious.

“I wouldn’t drag you into danger, Brother. I wouldn’t ask for something like that…”

Jang Unhyeok casually turned the topic while rotating his cup.

“There’s something I wanted to look into. Just in case… can you get me a connection to the Wudang Sect?”

But his hand was ready to grasp the hilts of his twin swords at any moment.

“Why? Planning to join them?”

Ha Dong scoffed.

“Tch, forget it. The Wudang Sect won’t take you. What do they have to gain from accepting a former Intelligence Chief? A headache…”

He stopped himself from saying “a nuisance.”

“There would be too much trouble.”

“No, Brother. I’m not trying to join them—just want to ask something.”

Jang Unhyeok leaned forward.

“I want to know if you’ve heard of a group called the Dark Spirit Sect. The Wudang Sect is a renowned orthodox sect… maybe they have records or traditions left behind…”

“Dark Spirit Sect?”

Ha Dong furrowed his brow.

“Never heard of it.”

“That’s why I’m asking you to check with them. If you could put in a word…”

Ha Dong’s expression turned sour. He clearly disliked the idea of reaching out to the Wudang Sect for a fugitive of the Heavenly Sound Cult.

Jang Unhyeok noticed the reaction and offered a faint, subtle smile.

“But Brother.”

His voice lowered noticeably.

“How is it that the Boss of the Iron-Blooded Hall still doesn’t know your true identity?”

Ha Dong’s face froze for a moment.

His hand holding the cup trembled slightly.

“It’s been over ten years, hasn’t it? Since you became a planted agent in the Heavenly Sound Cult.”

“What are you talking about…”

Jang Unhyeok took a slow sip of his drink and replied leisurely.

“When I first became Intelligence Chief and saw your name, I was so shocked. Haha, I still remember that.”

Sweat beaded on Ha Dong’s forehead. He looked around nervously to see if anyone had overheard.

“What… what nonsense are you spouting!”

“Come on, Brother. Don’t pretend now.”

Jang Unhyeok lightly touched the hilts of his twin swords.

“We’ve exchanged so much intel between us. Of course, now that I’ve left the Heavenly Sound Cult, that relationship’s over…”

He leaned in closer and whispered.

“Brother, don’t let me down.”

Ha Dong hurriedly nodded, face pale.

“Alright, alright. I’ll ask the Wudang Sect.”

“Thank you, Brother.”

Jang Unhyeok smiled in satisfaction.

“I’ll be counting on you.”

He rose and lightly patted Ha Dong on the shoulder. Ha Dong wiped his sweat and lifted his trembling hand to his cup.

The Dark Spirit Sect, a sect long erased from history.

No one knew what plot led to their downfall, or if they had dismantled themselves. For now, there wasn’t a single clue to be found about the Dark Spirit Sect.

Before a dim campfire in the cave, three people sat facing one another.

“We’ve planted the seeds to find the Dark Spirit Sect. Now we just wait and harvest.”

“That’s assuming the seed grows… but it should.”

Yeon Sohye added.

The flickering flames cast shadows and light across their faces.

“Where will we go now?”

Yeon Sohye asked Gugwi.

“Well…”

Gugwi couldn’t answer immediately.

“Let’s go to the Heavenly Sound Cult.”

Yeon Sohye said something shocking. Jang Unhyeok especially winced visibly.

“The Murim Alliance has marked us for elimination. The Cold Wolf Sect can’t help but side with them. One of the Seven Cold Wolves will soon come for us. We’re surrounded.”

Yeon Sohye checked the edge of her dagger. The glint of cold steel flickered in the firelight.

“One misstep and it’s over.”

“I’m not too keen on that… Going back north after barely escaping? Hmph!”

Jang Unhyeok spoke from the heart. His hand unconsciously touched the item in his pocket belonging to his son.

“If we head north, we’re in danger too. The Heavenly Sound Cult will come at us with everything they’ve got. The only reason Ma Ungyeol isn’t making a move now is because this is Murim Alliance territory… but if we go north…”

Yeon Sohye trailed off.

“So you’re saying the north is still safer than here?”

“Yes. The most dangerous place might also be the safest. I’d rather avoid conflict, but… as long as the Spirit Flow Core continues to leave traces, we can’t hide forever.”

Gugwi fell into brief thought.

Entering the Heavenly Sound Cult was like walking into a tiger’s den. But what other choice was there?

Yeon Sohye continued.

“We have to stay hidden until the rumors about the Spirit Flow Core die down. Somewhere they wouldn’t expect. Chief, do you know any secret hideouts used by the Intelligence Division?”

“If that’s the goal, it would have to be not just a hideout—but a forgotten one. There is an abandoned warehouse outside the Sa Dalap Fortress… but it’s too close to the Cult…”

Jang Unhyeok trailed off.

Gugwi nodded. It was dangerous, but there was no better option.

“Alright. Let’s go to the Heavenly Sound Cult.”

This decision was no different from fleeing wolves only to enter a tiger’s jaws. But… they had no other choice.

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