Soul Summoning Sword Spirit

Chapter 3: Soul-Summoning Arts (3)

Gugwi caught his breath as he emerged from the forest.

His chest pounded, having run with all his strength. Harsh breaths spread through the damp air.

Whoosh!

Moonlight slipped through the leaves, casting silver shadows.

The damp smell of soil stung his nose.

—Seek the spirit of a martial artist from a nearby grave.

His father's voice echoed in his mind.

Gugwi frowned and leaned against a tree.

‘The spirit of a martial artist? What is that supposed to be? I need to know what it is if I’m to find it.’

There were many graves in the mountain. Stone graves, earthen graves, ones buried beneath trees—all revealed under the moonlight. There was no way to tell which of them belonged to a martial artist.

Then… suddenly, a memory surfaced.

‘General Madal!’

In the northern valley, there was the ancient tomb of a famed general. The memory of visiting the place with his father returned.

Gugwi raised his head and looked toward the moonlit path.

‘That’s it!’

Without hesitation, he ran straight ahead.

Leaves crunched beneath his feet and dust scattered. The cold wind slapped his ears and stung his skin.

At first, he ran cautiously.

Mindful of pursuers… he moved between trees, stepping lightly on the earth. He held his breath so his footsteps wouldn’t sound.

But soon, he dashed with full force.

Dirt flew and tree bark scraped his arms.

A sharp sting spread, but he ignored it. His running speed carried his body forward.

As he entered the valley, the air grew heavy and damp. The stench of rotting wood pricked his nose. Only silence loomed.

Gugwi walked along the mountain path.

Seeing the trail brought back memories of coming here with his father, as clearly as if it were yesterday.

—General Madal was a great martial artist in life… but died tragically.

His father’s sigh rang in his ears.

Gugwi quickened his steps.

Under the moonlight, a stone grave came into view.

Moss covered the stone entirely. A stone stele erected by his father glimmered faintly. It was the grave of General Madal.

He stood before the grave.

Ragged breaths burned his throat. The moonlight touched his sweat-drenched face, bringing a chill.

‘Find the spirit of a martial artist? How? I found the grave but….’

He reached out and touched the stone stele.

The cold stone sent a tremor through his fingertips. A chill crept down his spine.

At that moment, a thread of blue light emerged in midair.

‘Is that… the gate of the Realm of the Threshold?’

He placed his hand on his abdomen and drew out the warm energy given by his father.

This was a power linked to bloodline. A force awakened only in the Realm of the Threshold, where the living and dead meet. This energy opens the gate—and one must call the precise name for the soul to answer.

Thump!

Blue light enveloped his body. The valley lit up in a blue glow.

“Madal!”

He called the name of General Madal.

“Come forth, General Madal!”

Breathing hard, Gugwi shouted the name more forcefully.

Thump!

Light spread and mist wrapped around his body. Blue light covered his hands and the grave.

“General Madal, answer me!”

Thump!

The light grew stronger, but the spirit did not appear. Only thick mist blanketed the valley.

‘Why isn’t it working? Is the name wrong?’

He touched the stone stele again. The stone trembled slightly.

“Madal, appear!”

His cry echoed through the valley. The trees shook.

Thump! Light swallowed his entire body. The mist whirled. Still, there was no response.

Rustle!

Just then, a sound came from the forest. Gugwi narrowed his eyes.

Someone was approaching. The silhouette of an unfamiliar woman shimmered in the moonlight. Sharp eyes glinted in the dark.

He held his breath.

There was no reason for anyone to be at this lonely grave. His heart pounded against his chest.

‘Who is she? This isn’t a path people normally take… A martial artist?’

Gugwi’s eyes shifted to the woman’s waist.

The scabbard at her hip reflected the moonlight. Fortunately, her presence felt completely different from those chasing him. There was no sense of threat from her.

“Hey, you there!”

Her voice sharply cut through the darkness as she approached.

At that moment, the blue light wavered and the Illusory Name Command was severed. He needed to summon General Madal….

She spoke quickly, scanning the valley.

Her hand was tightly gripping the hilt of her sword. She was clearly tense.

“Strangers have surrounded this mountain—you're being hunted, aren’t you?”

“What! Surrounded?”

Gugwi lowered his voice to ask.

He was curious about who she was, but the fact that the pursuers had made it this far was far more alarming.

“Save your questions for later—just hide! If those bastards are after you.”

She snapped.

Her eyes pierced the darkness, searching for signs of the pursuers.

‘What’s with this woman? Doesn’t seem like an enemy…’

Gugwi’s mind raced. But nothing came to him about the woman.

The silence around the grave was broken.

Was she an enemy, or did she have another goal? Gugwi crouched behind the stone stele.

The cold stone stung his palm.

“No. I’ve got something to do.”

His voice trembled.

He had to complete the Illusory Name Command. He had to summon General Madal.

“You really are being chased, aren’t you?”

“There’s something I must do here….”

“Stubborn, aren’t you!”

The woman sighed and grabbed his arm semi-forcefully. Then she pulled Gugwi to the side of the grave. Her grip was like a shackle, refusing to let go. Then—

Swish! Thunk!

An arrow flew and struck the grave.

Stone fragments flew as dirt mixed with the mist.

Thud! Thud!

Arrows struck the stone stele, scattering shards of rock. A sharp metallic clang pierced his ears.

“This way! Behind the grave!”

Urgent voices rang out. The pursuers.

Torchlight pierced through the mist and approached.

Gugwi pressed his body tightly against the stone grave. The tension of being discovered made his breathing harsh.

“Heavenly Sound Cult!”

The woman muttered lowly as she looked at the masked men. Her eyes were sharp as blades.

“What happened to Uncle Guun?”

She suddenly asked while looking at Gugwi.

His mind went blank at those words. This woman knew his father?

She clearly said his father's name. A woman he had never met before.

“How do you know my father?”

He asked in a trembling voice.

“This isn’t the time! Something must have happened to him, right? Damn! Those Heavenly Sound Cult bastards! We need to escape!”

She scanned the surroundings with sharp eyes.

The torchlight drew nearer.

Reluctant to simply flee… he placed his hand on the stele.

Warmth lingered at his fingertips. The blue energy still shimmered.

Just as his father said, this was the place to summon General Madal. He felt certain that if he missed this chance, he would never meet the spirit of the martial artist.

‘I have to try again. I must summon General Madal!’

If the pursuers caught up, it was over.

He placed a hand on his abdomen and drew out the energy.

Thump!

Blue light enveloped his body.

But then… the mist thickened suddenly. This wasn’t his intention. Was it a natural phenomenon? He instinctively reached out and pulled the mist in, as if embracing it.

Whooosh!

The mist covered the grave and turned the valley hazy.

“What is this?”

The woman widened her eyes in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

She asked again.

“I don’t know.”

Gugwi responded, gasping. His fingertips trembled from the unexpected phenomenon.

“Keep going, keep going! We can hide in this!”

She shouted urgently.

He placed his hand on the ground and let the energy flow. Somehow, he managed to do this unconsciously. The earth trembled and a chill spread. The mist thickened further.

Flaaash!

The mist completely enveloped the valley. The two of them hid within it.

“Over here!”

A masked man pushed through the mist. The red glow of the torch stained the fog.

Swish!

A curved blade struck the stone grave.

Stone shards scattered, blending into the mist. Clang! The sound stabbed his ears.

The woman yanked Gugwi away.

His body narrowly avoided the curved blade.

Another man rushed in. This time, his blade targeted her neck. The blade was sharp like a viper’s fang.

She twisted her body and swung her sword.

Squelch!

In an instant, the man's chest was pierced like paper. Red blood mixed into the mist. The stench of blood spread thickly.

“Kill them!”

A third man charged. His eyes gleamed with murderous intent.

The curved blade grazed Gugwi’s shoulder. This time, the woman was slightly late. She hurriedly pulled Gugwi away, but the blade sliced his flesh and soaked his clothes in blood. A stinging pain spread.

“Stop, you bastards!”

The woman shouted as she struck the man’s arm with her sword.

A precise hit, perfectly timed. Her blade sliced the man's arm. Blood spurted.

“Where are they?”

“This way!”

Voices of the men overlapped in the mist. Heavy footsteps echoed from all directions.

Gugwi leaned against the stone grave.

‘Heavenly Sound Cult? Why is Father involved with them?’

He looked at the woman beside him. She knew his father and the Heavenly Sound Cult. She struck without hesitation, as if they were enemies. At the very least, she was not his enemy. He had to trust her.

“Follow me, you idiot!”

She raised her sword. Blood flowed down the blade. Several lives had already ended at its tip.

“Got it!”

Gugwi responded with difficulty.

Rustle, rustle!

The two of them darted between trees. Mist curled around their feet.

“Catch them!”

The shouts of the men drew closer. Killing intent pierced through the mist.

The woman grabbed Gugwi’s arm.

“Run! I’ll hold them off!”

Rustle, rustle!

They rushed down the valley. Though breath burned in their throats, they suppressed it and kept running. Tree shadows flashed past. Wind howled violently.

Down in the valley, Gugwi briefly hid behind a rock.

His ragged breath scratched his throat. Warm energy trembled in his qi center. The power given by his father.

The woman sat beside him, alertly scanning the surroundings. Her eyes glinted sharply in the dark.

“Who are you? What’s going on here?”

“I’m Yeon Sohye. I’m with the Cold Wolf Sect.”

In that instant, Gugwi recalled his father’s words. ‘Go to the Cold Wolf Sect.’ Words spoken as he lay dying.

“What does the Cold Wolf Sect….”

“Quiet, you fool.”

She cut in urgently.

Rustle, rustle, rustle!

The movements of the masked men were felt. Their footsteps echoed through the valley as their torches pierced the mist.

“This way!”

One of the masked men shouted. He seemed to have found some kind of trace.

The woman grabbed Gugwi’s shoulder.

“Get ready. We’re running again. Stay sharp!”

Rustle, rustle!

The woman called Yeon Sohye lit up her eyes and sprinted into the darkness without hesitation.