Soul Summoning Sword

Chapter 69: Slow Breath, Careful Steps (4)

Ssshhiiing!

Jang Unhyeok swung his twin swords, driving back the Soul-Summoners of the Cold Wolf Sect.

Sword qi spread out in a half-circle. Two of the Soul-Summoners staggered backward.

“Let’s go!”

The three of them moved at once.

“See you next time!”

Clang! Clang! Clang! Clang!

The sharp clash of metal rang out.

Yeon Sohye parried dagger after dagger, forcing the Yeongbi Pavilion Lord to retreat. Then she shot forward after Jang Unhyeok.

“Where do you think you’re going!”

The Yeongbi Pavilion Lord shouted, hurling his figure forward.

The Captain of the Blue Blood Unit was too shocked to even speak.

His eyes widened, pupils dilating as raw disbelief flooded his face.

‘Until now, no Soul-Summoner has ever escaped from the Black Flame Shatter!’

Yes. The Black Flame Shatter was invincible. There had never been a single exception. Anyone who came into contact with a spirit—regardless of gender, age, or status—was struck without fail. From the moment one was tainted by the spirit’s energy, they became prey to the Black Flame Shatter.

And yet, even when he directly targeted Gugwi, his strike had failed.

“This can’t be…”

The words slipped out of his trembling lips.

His voice quivered. The confidence he had built over ten years of suppressing Soul-Summoners in the Murim Alliance collapsed in an instant.

His fingertips shook violently.

Surely, there was something different about Gugwi.

In the instant Gugwi deflected the Black Flame Shatter, a flicker of blue light had brushed past. It had been no more than the blink of an eye, but he had not missed it. A mysterious gleam, like a jewel glimmering deep in the ocean.

Gugwi, Yeon Sohye, and Jang Unhyeok sprinted toward the forest. Their footsteps crunched over fallen leaves, resounding through the woods. Rustle. Rustle. They didn’t bother to suppress their sounds, running with all their strength.

Gugwi’s hair streamed in the wind, and Yeon Sohye’s robes fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.

Behind them, the Yeongbi Pavilion warriors and members of the Blue Blood Unit charged in pursuit.

Shadows in black clothing melted between the trees, clinging tenaciously like a pack of wolves that had lost its prey.

“Captain!”

A Blue Blood Unit member shouted.

Urgency laced his voice. He was urging the Captain to quickly unleash the Black Flame Shatter. His sword, glinting under the sunlight, repeatedly pointed toward Gugwi and his companions.

“We can’t let them escape! That one is—”

“Stop!”

The Captain’s voice cracked like a whip.

At that single word, every movement ceased.

Their rushing steps ground to a halt, kicking up clouds of dirt. Confusion flickered across the faces of his subordinates.

He didn’t know why. He couldn’t explain the thought.

But years of battlefield experience screamed a warning. An instinct crawled up his spine, cold shivers gripping his whole body.

Something told him—chasing them any further would end badly. A foreboding sense that if they continued, everyone here would die.

Whooosh!

A chill wind swept by. Leaves rustled and fell.

The sound was strangely ominous, like whispers. No, like countless voices murmuring at once.

“Ugh…!”

Goosebumps erupted across the Captain’s back.

A sinister aura seeped out from the depths of the forest. He hadn’t sensed it at first, but when he focused his mind, it slowly emerged. The stench of death. The aura of resentment. Centuries of pent-up grudges coiled within that place.

That Spirit Flow Core Gugwi carried… he had to learn more about it.

‘Perfect!’

Gugwi almost wanted to laugh. He was delighted.

When the Captain had struck him with the Black Flame Shatter, the Spiritless Zone had been broken. From that moment on, the world had returned to a state where spirits could wander freely.

No one else had realized it.

Amidst the chaos, Gugwi spotted a mound buried in the woods—a grave, though he could not tell whose.

The burial was so old it was nearly indistinguishable from the flat ground, only a slight rise of earth marking it as a tomb. Without close inspection, it would appear like nothing more than an uneven hill.

The instant he saw the grave, he sensed the shadow clinging to it.

A spirit, bound within the mound by the influence of the Spirit Flow Core… a Tomb-Bound Spirit.

Such a spirit could not leave its grave. Whatever its story, it lingered ceaselessly around its burial site, perhaps for decades or centuries.

Gugwi lashed out with the Spirit Flow Core, striking the spirit.

A cold radiance surged from his chest, flowing down into his fingertips. The spirit was wrenched from the grave.

Gugwi herded it toward the Captain of the Blue Blood Unit. With the Spirit Flow Core, he pressed from all sides, leaving only the Captain’s direction open. The spirit wavered menacingly around the Captain.

Fwoooosh!

A frigid gleam poured out from the spirit.

A sense of doom wrapped around the Captain. Negative energy seeped into his every thought. Pursue? No, pursuit now felt utterly inauspicious.

The Captain, who had been leading his subordinates in a vigorous chase, finally called them to a halt.

‘That should do it.’

Gugwi drew the spirit into the Realm of the Threshold.

Would it now become a Wandering Spirit roaming within the boundary, or remain a Tomb-Bound Spirit tied to its grave? Neither could be called better, but at least within the Realm of the Threshold, it might one day ascend.

‘May fortune come your way.’

Gugwi muttered as he watched the spirit get pulled into the boundary.

Black mist coiled in all directions.

The Valley of Heavenly Slaughter.

Even the Heavenly Sound Cult dared not tread into this cursed land.

Jang Unhyeok walked ahead, speaking heavily.

“In this place, pursuers won’t follow easily. The stench of rotting corpses alone is enough to smash their heads apart.”

Yeon Sohye looked around, her face hardening.

“To think such a place exists…”

Here, even the mountain winds sounded like cries. As the air passed through the trees, it carried groans like those of suffering men.

The twisted trees looked like humans writhing in agony. Their roots jutted above the ground, their branches entangled in grotesque shapes.

Dark stains marked the earth everywhere. They said it was blood spilled centuries ago, yet still not faded. The stains seemed to writhe, as though alive.

This was how ordinary people saw the Valley of Heavenly Slaughter.

But to the eyes of a Soul-Summoner, the vision was far more horrific.

A chill seeped into the bones—not mere cold, but the aura of death, the aura of resentment.

The air itself was heavy. Every breath caught in the throat, as though trying to breathe underwater.

Gugwi closed his eyes and expanded his senses into the Realm of the Threshold.

Countless spirits lingered here. Their whispers reached him—not one, but thousands of voices rising all at once.

“Spare me…”

“Revenge…”

“Why did you kill me…”

The overlapping voices rang painfully in his ears.

Cold sweat formed on Gugwi’s forehead.

And yet, this place was nothing like the Spirit Essence Mine. No accumulation of spiritual energy existed here. To a Soul-Summoner’s eyes, the spirits in this place were nothing but worthless refuse—useless stray souls.

Gugwi opened his eyes. His face was pale.

“The spirits here are…”

“Yes. Worthless stray souls.”

Jang Unhyeok continued, his voice tinged with scorn.

“This place used to be an execution ground. Three hundred years ago, the Heavenly Sound Cult executed thousands here. Most of them were commoners—people with no martial arts, no knowledge of Soul-Summoning.”

Yeon Sohye frowned.

“Why would they kill such people…?”

“They were charged with rebellion. The most convenient excuse. In truth, the Heavenly Sound Cult used it as a way to weed out troublesome individuals.”

Jang Unhyeok’s voice grew colder.

“Do you think such people could accept death? Their resentment and fury piled up, leaving them behind here. But a powerless man in life remains powerless even in death…”

Gugwi nodded. He understood.

“So that is why they are called stray souls.”

“Exactly. Spirits without martial arts are of no use to a Soul-Summoner. Even if you contact them, you gain no strength—only hindrance. And they can’t even be used as Living Spirits.”

Jang Unhyeok pointed at the twisted trees.

“That’s why even the Heavenly Sound Cult abandoned this place. Too many spirits, too much gloom, but no real benefit. Better to search elsewhere for useful spirits.”

Yeon Sohye spoke.

“Then that means they’re of no help to us either?”

“That’s right. We didn’t come here seeking their aid. Only because it’s a perfect hiding place.”

“What should we be careful about?”

Yeon Sohye furrowed her brow.

Jang Unhyeok nodded.

“The spirits here are full of resentment and anger. Even a hint of Spirit Contact will make them swarm to you…”

“Isn’t that too dangerous? Shouldn’t we find another place…”

“No, this is good.”

Gugwi looked around as he spoke.

“We need to vanish for a while, and this is the perfect spot. Even the Heavenly Sound Cult won’t come here. In a place like this, we can block pursuit from Living Spirits. Even those skilled in tracking techniques can be shaken off. This is a good choice.”

As he spoke, Gugwi closed his eyes.

Fwooosh!

His consciousness entered the Realm of the Threshold.

From outside, the Valley of Heavenly Slaughter was nothing but a den of stray spirits and evil souls. No one seeking Spirit Contact would ever try to find spirits here. For humans, this was the lowest of the low, like the slums of the underclass.

But how could these spirits be distinguished within the Realm of the Threshold?

Sssssshhhh…!

Thousands of voices echoed again. Yet surprisingly, their light was weak. Many of them were revival spirits—souls who could pass into reincarnation the instant they were drawn into the Realm.

“The spirits here… I think I can help them. For now, let’s at least accept their protection.”

His voice softened.

Yeon Sohye and Jang Unhyeok looked at him. They seemed to grasp his intent, but not its full depth.

Whoooosh!

The wind blew again. But this time it was not a wail, but a gentle whisper—like spirits welcoming Gugwi. The oppressive air dissipated.

“Fine. If that’s your decision, we’ll follow it. Are you… trying to purify these evil spirits the way you purified the Living Spirits? It’s a noble thought, but aren’t there too many? Don’t overdo it.”

“I agree.”

Jang Unhyeok nodded.

“For now, let’s hide here and make our next plans. It’s certain the Blue Blood Unit or Yeongbi Pavilion won’t easily come here. As for the Heavenly Sound Cult, I can guarantee they won’t.”

Gugwi nodded.

“Un Serim. General Madal.”

He quietly called out.

The two spirits appeared once more.

At their arrival, the evil spirits that had been wandering nearby scattered back.

The two spirits at Gugwi’s side were influenced by the Spirit Flow Core. They had become higher-ranked spirits, far beyond what the others could approach.

“Twin Spirit Convergence.”

Gugwi murmured.

He inhaled deeply… and simultaneously contacted both spirits, drawing forth their power at once.

Un Serim appeared on his right.

The figure of a middle-aged man—eyes heavy with grudges, jaw clenched, spear gripped firmly in hand.

General Madal appeared on his left.

A general clad in armor, his face bearing countless scars of battle.

Gugwi spread both arms. With his right hand, he drew in Un Serim’s energy. With his left, General Madal’s. The two forces met within his body.

Then the Spirit Flow Core responded. From his heart, a blue radiance burst forth, wrapping around both energies. The cold force and the burning force mingled, blending into a lukewarm energy.

It spread through Gugwi’s entire body.

“Now!”

Gugwi raised his spear.

A gust rose from the spear tip—but not an ordinary gust. It carried Un Serim’s chill and General Madal’s heat together.

A vortex formed, slicing through the fog.

The whirlwind grew, shaking the surrounding trees.

“Cloudfire Spear Slash.”

A strange name slipped from Gugwi’s lips.

A new martial art, born from fusing Un Serim’s spear arts with General Madal’s slashing technique.

The spear danced through the air. But it was no mere spear art. From the spear tip burst sword qi—General Madal’s sword technique entwined with the spear.

The first movement: the spear struck down from above.

Un Serim’s spear art. Yet the spear tip projected qi, splitting a boulder clean in two.

The second movement: the spear swept sideways. General Madal’s slash—moving as though the spear itself were a giant sword.

The third movement: the spear thrust forward. The energy of both Un Serim and General Madal converged. Blue light and crimson light merged, radiating a breathtaking glow.

The fog split apart, winds howling. Spirits nearby shrieked and scattered.

Whether with his own martial arts, or through Spirit Contact with Martial Artists of the Spirit Union, martial arts were indispensable. The stronger the better. He had wondered if he could merge the martial arts of two spirits at once… and it worked.

“So it can be done.”

Gugwi smiled with satisfaction.