Soul Summoning Sword

Chapter 13: Unity of Body and Soul (3)

The Shadow Moon Unit’s building lay in silence. Moonlight pierced the narrow window, scattering silver light across the floor.

Gugwi sat on the cold stone floor of his quarters.

In his hand was Yeonghwan Birok, the heirloom his father had left behind.

He had taken it out to read even during training at the Third Chamber of the Spirit Keeper Contest, but the content was so abstruse that it was difficult to comprehend.

Rustle!

The worn leather cover felt warmly familiar, like his father's touch.

‘Just one page today—I have to understand at least that. Why is this book so difficult? What on earth is it even saying…?’

Slide!

He turned the page.

The faded ink revealed blurry characters.

Yet… his eyes did not stay on the letters. As he opened the book, his mind grew restless. The brutal training ground of the Shadow Moon Unit, Yeon Sohye’s sharp warnings, and those inexplicable gazes—all rose to the surface.

He closed the book.

The flickering candlelight cast his shadow onto the wall.

“What is in this book?”

His whisper drifted around the room.

This wasn’t the first time. It happened almost every time. As if something tried to interfere, all sorts of distracting thoughts would arise the moment he opened the secret manual. Even the most trivial things suddenly felt significant.

‘Am I not yet qualified to read this?’

Gugwi shut the manual.

He closed his eyes.

In a state between sleep and wakefulness, his consciousness swayed like waves. The Gate of the Realm of the Threshold opened. A cold aura brushed his cheek.

Hooo!

His breath grew shallow, and his heartbeat slowed.

“Guun.”

He whispered his father's name.

Though it was irreverent to call his father's name so casually, it was the only way to summon him.

Fsssh!

The Illusory Name Command opened the Realm of the Threshold.

From the darkness, light blossomed. The white glow gradually turned gray, as a small cluster of light floated in the air.

Gugwi’s body trembled lightly.

His father, Guun’s voice echoed.

“There is great power within you.”

The voice was deep and heavy.

“The Spirit Flow Core… hide it. Do not use it.”

Gugwi’s brow furrowed.

“Spirit… Flow Core? What is that? Don’t I need to know what it is before I can avoid using it? Is it really inside me?”

He asked in urgency.

Even within the Realm of the Threshold, contact with spirits was extremely brief. Barely a few words could be exchanged, and even then, the message was often fragmented and incomprehensible.

Spirit Flow Core? What was that? He had never heard of it before.

“Do not use it.”

His father's voice was resolute.

“But what is it, really? What is it that I shouldn’t use?”

Gugwi’s voice trembled.

“When the time comes, you will understand. For now… hide it.”

His father’s voice faded.

The light wavered and dimmed. His father's form smoothly dissolved into the darkness.

Gugwi opened his eyes.

Time for conversation within the Realm of the Threshold was incredibly short. And even then, one rarely got to speak what they intended to say. It was more like listening to the spirit speak at will.

Still, the reason he had summoned his father was… he wanted to hear his father’s voice.

But then—Spirit Flow Core? It was a word he had never heard before. His father’s warning carried an impression of a hidden secret.

A deep shadow lay behind that stern warning.

His heart pounded.

The room was silent. But his mind swirled with the words his father had left behind.

“Hide it?”

Gugwi let out a faint laugh.

‘Why do I have so many things to hide? How am I supposed to live with so many things I’m not allowed to say? Phew!’

Gugwi stood in a corner of the Shadow Moon Unit’s training ground.

Moonlight scattered a cold glow across the floor. In his hand, he held a long spear.

Cloud Flow Tracking. The spear technique his father had passed down. A technique from a long-lost sect.

His father had uncovered this martial art through the Soul-Summoning Arts. Believing it to be executable even without spirit contact, he taught it to his son. With this spear technique, Gugwi had hunted wild boars and brought down wolves. Even when the martial artists of the Heavenly Sound Cult had attacked, he had fought them off with this spear.

Cloud Flow Tracking was the essence of spear technique.

The spear tip was as sharp as wind piercing through mist. The stances were concise: thrusting, swinging, blocking. Yet within that simplicity, there was flow. Every time the spear moved, the air split gently.

His footwork was as supple as mist. His feet glided over the ground. With every step, his center remained unshaken.

His breathing technique was one with his breath.

Energy surged from his danjeon to the spear tip.

With every breath, warmth bloomed in his danjeon. His inner energy flowed through the spear.

The principle of Cloud Flow Tracking was nature itself.

Flowing like water, brushing past like wind.

“Haah!”

Gugwi let out a long breath, lowered the spear, and drew his sword.

He transformed Cloud Flow Tracking into swordsmanship. The sharp thrusts of the spear turned into the slashes of the sword, the swings into blade trajectories.

Shwik!

He swung his sword. The blade sliced through the air.

His footwork remained unchanged—sliding like mist while keeping his balance. But the sword was different from the spear. The spear was long and heavy, the sword short and light. He adjusted his balance.

Swoosh!

He drew energy from his danjeon.

The power given by the Nameless Martial Artist coursed through his veins. It was immense inner energy. He transformed it into spiritual energy and swung his sword. The blade reflected the moonlight, drawing arcs of light.

He closed his eyes and recalled the spirit contact with the Nameless Martial Artist.

Flowing Sword of the Manifest Spirit. The cursed sword technique the Nameless Martial Artist had left behind.

When performed during spirit contact, its power seemed capable of tearing the heavens. The sword aura split the darkness and burned through the air.

Gugwi intended to elevate Cloud Flow Tracking to that level.

He had kept his promise to the Nameless Martial Artist. He had not used the Flowing Sword of the Manifest Spirit. But he had used that inner energy to hone Cloud Flow Tracking. Until it matched the level of the Spirit Union Martial Arts.

Cultivated martial arts could never surpass the Spirit Union Martial Arts. Without a master's guidance, any martial art copied in form alone was hollow. But Gugwi was different. The Nameless Martial Artist’s inner energy had shattered his limits.

***

The training ground was silent.

Gugwi stood, gripping his sword.

Moonlight illuminated his face. He took a deep breath. His danjeon burned with heat.

The Nameless Martial Artist’s inner energy coursed through his veins.

Ssshh!

As he stepped into the footwork, his feet skimmed the ground. Mist seemed to rise softly around him.

He swung the sword. The blade sliced through the air, stirring the wind.

He repeated the stances. Slash, thrust, block. The movements were concise. Yet each was imbued with strength. The Nameless Martial Artist’s inner energy surged from the sword tip. The blade reflected the moonlight, drawing flashes of light.

He increased his speed. His footwork quickened.

Shweaak! Shwek!

His body dashed across the training ground. Sword aura sliced through the air. A wooden training dummy was severed in one strike. The cut pieces scattered across the floor, whipped by the wind pressure from the sword.

Gugwi didn’t stop.

His inner energy burst outward.

The stone floor of the training ground cracked. Dust billowed. His shadow danced beneath the moonlight.

“Haagh!”

Sweat ran down his forehead. His breathing turned rough.

At last, he lowered his sword. His hands trembled… yet he was filled with joy. The Nameless Martial Artist’s inner energy was immense. With its power, he had raised Cloud Flow Tracking to the level of Spirit Union Martial Arts. Yet he still couldn’t fully control that power.

“This should be enough, right? No need to open another tomb…”

He caught his breath.

Then, picking up his sword again, he stepped into the footwork.

Both feet slid like mist.

So Taeryeon watched Gugwi from the shadowy corner of the garden.

His eyes were as sharp as a hawk’s.

Members of the Shadow Moon Unit didn’t know each other. They didn’t form bonds, merely brushing past one another like shadows.

But So Taeryeon was different.

He was a planted spy from the Heavenly Sound Cult within the Cold Wolf Sect.

While spying on the Cold Wolf Sect, he had discovered Gugwi’s abnormal progress. Rumors had even reached him that Gugwi was the son of one of the Eight Generals. Naturally, Gugwi had caught his attention.

He needed to determine whether Gugwi was a person the Heavenly Sound Cult should recruit—or quietly eliminate.

Gugwi was resting in the training ground.

‘A chance! Let’s test him a bit.’

So Taeryeon approached.

Though he walked along the gravel path, his footsteps made barely a sound. The moonlight lit up his face. Behind his gentle smile, his eyes hid a chill close to killing intent.

“Not a face I’ve seen before.”

Gugwi turned his head. It was a stranger’s face.

“Who are you?”

“No need to be cautious. Shadow Moon Unit member. Name’s So Taeryeon.”

His voice was warm, but his eyes tried to pierce through Gugwi.

“I heard someone passed the third level in half a year—was that you? Impressive. I was wondering who’d snatch you up, and turns out you ended up here in the Shadow Moon Unit?”

Gugwi shrugged.

“Rumors are always exaggerated. Finishing the third level quickly… that was just luck, I guess?”

“Hahaha!”

So Taeryeon laughed.

“No need to hide your talent. If you’ve got it, flaunt it. A genius Soul-Summoner, huh? That’s intriguing. Want to train with me? I’d like to see your skills.”

Gugwi narrowed his eyes. He’d heard that Shadow Moon Unit members kept their distance from each other. In that sense, So Taeryeon’s approach was strange. Still, he nodded.

“If it’s just training… I don’t mind.”

“Let’s head to the training ground.”

So Taeryeon took the lead. His shadow stretched long beneath the moonlight.

The training ground he led to was ominous. Only the moonlight scattered its cold glow on the floor, yet the edge of Soul-Summoners’ blades seemed to be felt in the air. It was suffocating.

So Taeryeon pulled out a dagger.

“Let’s start light—just to gauge each other’s martial arts. Ready?”

Papatapat!

He dashed in.

The dagger aimed straight for Gugwi’s neck.

“Urgh!”

Gugwi quickly rolled to the side. The dagger scraped the bluestone floor, sparking fire.

This was no simple attack. It was a lethal strike meant to kill. This wasn’t So Taeryeon’s personal martial art—it was a Spirit Union Martial Art unleashed through spirit contact.

Shweaak!

The dagger tore through the air. Gugwi twisted his body urgently and muttered under his breath.

‘Madal!’

Pang!

Gugwi twisted his body, unleashing Flying Swallow Slash. Wind surged from his fingertips. With overwhelming force, he deflected So Taeryeon’s dagger and pushed back at him.

So Taeryeon narrowed his eyes.

“Not bad.”

Gugwi leapt backward and said,

“That should be enough, right?”

The training ground’s air was taut. The blade shimmered under the moonlight.

Facing Gugwi, So Taeryeon smiled. His dagger danced at his fingertips.

“Not yet. This is fun.”

So Taeryeon’s voice lowered.

“The spirit I received is a master of swift blades. If I told you his alias, you’d recognize it too.”

He twirled the dagger lightly.

“But revealing that would expose my weakness, so I can’t. As for you… looks like you received a master of heavy blades. Don’t know who it was, but your sword is heavy. Your inner energy is absurdly strong.”

His eyes bored into Gugwi.

“Just brushing past it feels like it cuts flesh. Let’s go a little further.”

Gugwi clenched his teeth. The tip of his sword reflected the moonlight.

“This doesn’t feel like a test. Someone once told me… that within the Shadow Moon Unit, it’s fine to kill each other. If someone attacks, respond accordingly. Am I wrong to think that way?”

“Exactly right. Hahaha!”

So Taeryeon laughed.