Fiery Demon Monk (1)
It had been trapped in a physical body for a long time.
The owner of that body had far more willpower and determination than it had anticipated.
When it tried to take control quickly, the host blocked the flow of energy and shut off his own consciousness.
– Resistance is futile.
It was only a matter of time before the consciousness was overtaken.
No matter how strong-willed someone was, they would eventually submit.
Once the weakened body and mind were fully subdued, the vessel would be his.
– Not much longer now.
Everything seemed to be going smoothly.
But then, an unexpected variable appeared.
Just a little more time, and it could have broken through the mental barrier—but something got in the way.
– Who are you?
Ordinary humans shouldn't be able to perceive its presence.
But this being… somehow knew how to suppress it using a strange kind of sorcery.
– Are you trying to banish me?
And so, the battle for dominance began.
It was now a matter of who would win—banishment or possession.
Eventually, it was tricked by the one wielding that strange sorcery—trapped inside a wooden puppet.
– You dare deceive me?
Overflowing with bitter resentment, the entity boiled with fury.
Only by reclaiming that original body and wringing the neck of the one who tried to cast it out would its rage be soothed.
But then, it was interrupted.
So it abandoned the original vessel and turned its attention to the one who had interfered.
– What a fine body this is.
A young body.
Unlike the previous vessel, it wasn't overflowing with life energy—but in a way, that made it even better. The body was steeped in yin energy, making it easier to move freely.
This vessel was worth taking.
Being younger and fresher than the last, the host's ego and willpower should be weaker, too.
– I'll take it quickly.
All it had to do was erase the host's consciousness.
By provoking the mind and trapping it, the ego would weaken on its own.
But then—
– What… is this?
The entity couldn't hide its astonishment.
Who was this host?
A primal desire that pierced the soul…
A desire to kill.
– Is this thing even alive?
Death.
Darkness.
Rage.
Murderous intent.
All of it swirled together into an overwhelming aura of malice.
To the entity, this desire—drenched in death and bloodlust—was irresistible. It stirred a primal instinct.
– Magnificent.
It reveled in that desire.
But then, disappointment crept in.
Left alone, that magnificent desire would have bloomed in spectacular fashion—but something was suppressing it. Keeping it from fully awakening.
– I'll remove the element holding your desire back.
If the desire hadn't bloomed yet, he'd force it into full bloom.
A perfect vessel needed a mind to match.
Then—something impossible happened.
"Who… are you?"
The host recognized it.
It had tried to imprison the host in a crafted illusion of reality—but it failed.
– This can't be.
How could he perceive it?
A living being should not be able to recognize or interact with its kind.
"I asked you—who are you?"
No choice, then.
Even if the method was a bit rough, he would have to begin a forced assimilation.
The body was already partially corrupted—if it could consume the mind and will, then the vessel would be his.
– Slither... slither...!
–!?
For the first time, it felt something close to panic.
The assimilation had reversed.
The energy it had tried to embed into the host was now being absorbed—by the host.
At a pace that defied comprehension.
– Stop.
"What are you babbling about?"
– Stop it!
"I said, shut up."
– No…
"Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"
"I surrender. I'll leave—just stop."
At this rate, it feared it would be entirely consumed.
Desperately, it tried to escape.
But now, it was the host who was holding on to it.
"Phew."
Bangsa Myoshin let out a weary sigh and bent down to pick up the sword that had fallen to the floor.
He had expected it to be light, but it was surprisingly heavy.
Gripping the sword with both hands, Myoshin stared at Jangjoo, his face taut with tension.
Can I really do this?
He'd exorcised spirits and monsters before, but never killed a living person.
That's why, now that it came down to it, he was nervous.
But it had to be done.
I have to kill him.
Only then could he complete the Lady's commission and pin the blame entirely on this guy.
He would claim Jangjoo went berserk under the influence of a possessed spirit and had to be put down.
With that story, he could naturally rely on the Lady's backing to take care of the rest.
Let's do it.
He had to move quickly.
If Jangjoo's bodyguard outside came in, things would get messy.
Myoshin took a step toward Jangjoo.
That's when it happened.
–Flinch!
Myoshin froze mid-step.
A bone-chilling cold swept over him, raising goosebumps all over his skin. His face stiffened as he slowly turned his head.
!?
He couldn't hide his shock.
He thought his eyes were deceiving him.
A massive, blurry figure—at least two heads taller than an average man—was glaring at him with eyes full of deathly malice.
Wh-What is that…?
A hulking monk, robes soaked in blood, a necklace of skull beads hanging from his neck.
The face was pale and lifeless, devoid of any warmth.
It was—
A spirit?
Myoshin knew immediately—it was no ordinary ghost. It was a gu-i, a monstrous spirit.
Exorcists like Myoshin called them gu-i or vengeful souls, though the common folk simply called them ghosts.
Drip…
Cold sweat ran down his forehead.
Had his spiritual perception leveled up or something?
He had never seen a spirit manifest so clearly before.
Damn it!
Myoshin cursed inwardly.
No way his spiritual perception had improved on its own.
This gu-i had to be a high-ranking, powerful vengeful spirit.
That would explain why it could manifest so clearly in the physical world.
Clang!
Myoshin flung the sword away and formed a hand seal.
Crackle!
"Rin!"
Crackle!
"Pyo!"
Crackle!
"To!"
Crackle!
"Sha !"
CRACKLE!
Chanting seals and forming Vajra Mudras, Myoshin began his incantation, aiming it at the spirit.
"Dujeon wiryeong ta inbyeong jang gyeon o gyeong, oho ilseong jubu jeong, yosa gwi goe chul oe hyang…"
He was mid-incantation when the gu-i, cloaked in the form of a monstrous monk, moved like mist toward him.
Ssshhhh...
It won't work!
He had a Seven-Star Descent Talisman stuck to his chest for protection.
Even if exorcising it would be tough, the gu-i wouldn't be able to physically harm him…
WHAM!
"Urgh!"
A punch to the face cut him off mid-chant.
The pain wasn't the worst part—it was the shock.
"H-How…?"
The one who struck him was none other than Mok Gyeongwoon.
He was supposed to be immobile—possessed by a spirit and unable to control his own body.
The Suppression Talisman should've kept him completely restrained.
Myoshin's eyes, full of confusion, suddenly flickered as he noticed something.
From Mok Gyeongwoon's chest, a faint black thread-like stream was trailing out, connecting him to the monstrous monk spirit.
The sight made Myoshin go pale.
…What in the world…
There was only one thing that could mean:
A soul connected to another meant a shikigami bond.
A shikigami was, in essence, a supernatural being that had been bound into servitude.
And that's what left Myoshin stunned.
He made that spirit a shikigami?
That thing was a wonhon—a vengeful spirit filled with unresolved grudge.
These beings didn't follow humans. In fact, they were more rightly called calamities.
On rare occasions, some highly skilled exorcists could bind spirits into shikigami, but those were usually ancient beings or benign spirits—not violent monsters like this.
This makes no sense.
How could a murderous, blood-soaked spirit become a shikigami?
And more than that—Mok Gyeongwoon wasn't even trained in exorcism or any spiritual arts!
It defied all logic.
A normal person should've had their body taken or been killed outright by a spirit of that magnitude.
How could…
"Should I take this off?"
"What?"
Rip!
Suddenly, Mok Gyeongwoon reached out and tore something from Myoshin's chest.
The fluttering yellow paper that came loose—
"Wha—?"
—was the Seven-Star Descent Talisman.
Myoshin's eyes widened in horror.
That talisman was the only thing protecting him from the spirit.
If that was removed—
Ssshhh…
The ghostly, pale giant of a monk crept forward with a sinister smile on his lips.
Panic rising, Myoshin scrambled to form a hand seal and chant a defensive spell to replace the talisman—
But—
WHAM!
"Gahk!"
Mok Gyeongwoon drove a vicious kick into his gut.
The pain folded Myoshin in half as he collapsed, internal organs reeling, breath stolen from his lungs.
He tried to fight through the nausea and form a seal again, but—
"Khak!"
His body jerked violently backward.
His complexion darkened, and bulging veins crawled up his skin like vines.
Pop! Pop!
Myoshin could feel it.
The spirit was invading his body—trying to kill him from the inside out.
If he didn't complete the hand seals and cast a spell now, he would be completely consumed.
Gritting his teeth, he reached out with one hand, straining to form the seal—
Crunch!
Mok Gyeongwoon stepped down on his hand.
Completely immobilizing him.
Breathing heavily, gasping for air, Myoshin begged with every ounce of strength he had left.
"Huff… P-please, Young Master… spare me… Just let me live… I'll do… anything…"
"Don't need anything from you."
"I-it's because I lied, isn't it—?"
"Nope."
Gyeongwoon shook his head.
"You were just trying to survive, right? But you heard what she said too—about the job, and the secret manual."
!?
Myoshin's eyes widened.
So… even without his deception, Mok Gyeongwoon had planned to kill him all along.
While he was still reeling in disbelief, Gyeongwoon smiled softly and said:
"So just die."
Shiver…
He was smiling, but his eyes were empty—utterly lifeless, like a corpse.
More terrifying than the spirit itself.
"Kh… Khak!"
Blood poured from Myoshin's mouth as the veins on his face throbbed grotesquely.
His body convulsed briefly—then slowly went still.