To a Higher Place [Plus Ultra]

The first thing a person must do to grow is take stock of what they're currently capable of.

As of now, I knew four sorcery arts: the Six Jia Secret Chants, talisman crafting, the Vairocana Mantra Barrier, and the Ksitigarbha Ten Wheels Mudra.

If I counted crafting the Tree Spirit Sword and Green Immortal Pills as sorcery as well, that brought the total to six.

"That's more than I expected."

In less than a single month, I had learned and mastered quite a lot. And on top of sorcery, I had one other weapon at my disposal: my body. A physique reinforced with Daoist spiritual power was a formidable weapon in its own right. I hadn't been making proper use of it so far, but I had no intention of letting a weapon in my hands go to rust.

So I decided the first order of business was to find out exactly where my physical abilities stood.

"Ready... go!"

At Lee Ha-ram's signal, I sprinted down the hundred-meter track.

"Hah! Hah!"

Beep.

"What was the time?"

"S-Six seconds..."

Lee Ha-ram answered, staring at the timer with a dumbstruck expression.

"Whoa... that's not even a human speed anymore, is it? You're basically at wolf level."

Kim Han-soo, who had tagged along to watch because it looked fun, clicked his tongue in disbelief. A hundred meters in six seconds worked out to roughly sixty kilometers per hour.

"Let's check the rest too."

After that, we ran a whole battery of precise measurements — endurance running, vertical leap, and every other physical metric we could think of. The track we were using belonged to a private facility Kim Han-soo had rented through his connections, so I was free to go all-out without worrying about prying eyes. As a result, superhuman numbers came pouring out of every single event, not just the hundred-meter dash.

So there was a reason Daoist masters were always terrifyingly strong in those martial arts novels...

"Are... are all psychics this superhuman physically?"

Kim Han-soo asked, gaping at the records as if his spirit had left his body. I considered the question for a moment before answering.

"Probably not."

I hadn't met a huge number of psychics, but none of them had physical abilities as exceptional as mine. Yoon Soo-ah was thoroughly average, and neither Giselle nor Shin Han-hee had struck me as particularly remarkable either. Whether that was because their overall level was low, or because physical enhancement was simply a separate specialty some psychics possessed, I couldn't say.

But setting aside Kim Han-soo and Lee Ha-ram's admiration, outstanding physical ability wasn't actually that much of an advantage against anomalies. Just think back to the anomalies I'd encountered so far: the Hair Malicious Spirit, the Corner Man, Loneliness, the Tongue Malicious Spirit, Yoon Si-woo. Not a single one of them could have been defeated through physical strength alone.

Attacks carrying Daoist spiritual power would work, of course, but that was a secondary means at best — my mainstay remained sorcery.

What about combat against other humans, then? It would help more than fighting anomalies, but it wasn't decisive either. When your enemy is a person, the worst case is that a gun comes out. I hadn't yet tested the durability of a Daoist-reinforced body, but there was no reason to charge in like a human shield and become a target for nothing.

Either way, I now had a complete picture of the weapons at my disposal. And I'd confirmed my weakness with equal clarity.

My attacks take far too long to come out.

My strongest sorcery at the moment was the Vairocana Mantra Barrier, reinforced by covenant. It wasn't just its power — with a covenant laid on it, the barrier could burn away even beings with physical substance, so its versatility was excellent too. The problem was that casting it required fulfilling three conditions.

One, forming the Wisdom Fist Mudra. Two, chanting the mantra. Three — only when raising its output — scattering consecrated sand. The conditions looked simple on paper, but under real pressure, satisfying them ate up two to three precious seconds. And it wasn't just the Vairocana Mantra Barrier; the Ksitigarbha Ten Wheels Mudra, being the same school of Esoteric Buddhism, demanded the same procedure.

To use sorcery with a casting delay like that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠safely, I needed a vanguard to guard me in the meantime — something like a mage's familiar or an onmyoji's shikigami.

Come to think of it, I should also pick up at least one spell I can throw out instantly.

And finally, I needed one more sorcery to prepare for the worst-case scenario I could imagine.

Things are about to get busy.

The first thing I did after finishing the physical measurements was sign up for a boxing gym and a kendo dojo. I had no intention of making hand-to-hand combat my specialty, but I had no intention of letting a weapon I'd acquired go to waste, either. Above all, the gap between someone who'd trained in fighting techniques and someone who hadn't was night and day. There was no reason to turn down an easy power-up.

"Wow, you're learning at an insane speed?"

In the hours left over between streaming and combat training, I worked in Lee Ha-ram's warehouse hideout, sculpting a massive clay figure mixed with kudzu root. It was the groundwork for creating my vanguard.

"Hmm, this is harder than I thought..."

I hadn't exactly majored in sculpture, so of course a giant clay statue wasn't going to come out right on the first try. Naturally, I fumbled my way through it, and the warehouse paid the price, ending up filthy.

"Sorry about the mess, Ha-ram."

"Not at all! If it helps you, Master, this is nothing!"

Lee Ha-ram said, carrying over clay she'd made by mixing yellow earth with water.

"Is your training going well?"

"I-I'm working hard at it, but I haven't gotten any results yet..."

She may have picked up on it from the change in what I called her, but lately Lee Ha-ram had been learning sorcery from me. She'd done me countless favors, large and small, so I'd told her to name anything she wanted as repayment. And without a single second of hesitation, she'd declared:

'Become my sorcery master!'

I refused at first, of course. I myself had been in the spirit world ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠for less than a month. Who was I to teach anyone?

So instead, I simply told her about Dongbin's Dao Study Room. It wasn't exactly mine to hoard, and with Lee Ha-ram's knack for internet searches, I figured she'd stumble across it herself sooner or later.

But...

"M-Master... I went to the address you gave me, and nothing comes up?"

Lee Ha-ram couldn't access Dongbin's Dao Study Room. Even when I pulled it up and showed her the screen, she said she couldn't see a thing. I showed it to Tsukumo Momo, Kim Han-soo, and Choi Eun-ha afterward — same result. None of them could see anything.

In other words, Dongbin's Dao Study Room was a site that only I could see.

What the hell even is this site?

I'd suspected it was no ordinary place from the moment I saw it held sorcery techniques that had been erased from history, but this went beyond anything I'd imagined.

Is this site itself some kind of anomaly too?

It was hard to say for certain right now, but it clearly warranted a proper investigation.

"Whew! Let's take a break."

"Yes, Master!"

Even during breaks from sculpting, the training never stopped. I'd been devouring Esoteric Buddhist arts lately, so this time it was the turn of Daoist techniques.

"Hoooh..."

Sitting in a chair, I steadied my breathing and focused my mind. I pictured the warehouse before my eyes within my mind's depths, then extended my awareness until it covered the whole scene. Next, I shifted the center of my consciousness from myself to the center of the space.

The moment I did, a sensation spread out through the point between my brows, as if my consciousness were reaching outward, and transferred to the heart of the room.

From here on, it mattered.

With my consciousness anchored between the center of the space and myself, I controlled my breathing and shrank the scene in my mind as small as I could manage — like Sun Wukong trapped inside the Buddha's palm. Gradually, the shrunken scene and my consciousness fused into one, and the landscape within my awareness became as responsive as my own hands and feet.

The technique had worked.

As a test, I focused my consciousness on the Dr Pepper Lee Ha-ram was holding.

And then —

Fwoosh!

"Huh!?"

The Dr Pepper came flying toward me as though snagged on a fishing line.

Thud.

I caught it, twisted the cap off, and took a sip.

"Ugh. Ha-ram, how do you drink this stuff?"

"Excuse me, Master, you just stole my drink and you're complaining about it!? No wait — more importantly, what WAS that just now!? Telekinesis!?"

"It's a Daoist technique called the Isan Hwan-gyeong Method."

Move mountains, transform scenery. Despite the grandiose name, it was, as you could see, just telekinesis. It still took me a moment to use, but apparently once I got the hang of it, I'd be able to fling things around in an instant. Where heavy-casting-delay arts like the Vairocana Mantra Barrier were my straight punch, the Isan Hwan-gyeong Method was my jab.

That said, like genuine telekinesis, the Isan Hwan-gyeong Method had one glaring weakness: against ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠psychics, its power dropped off dramatically. But...

I've already got something planned for exactly that problem.

Used well, it could make for some genuinely interesting tricks.

"Alright, back to work."

"My Dr Pepper..."

"Stop whining. I only cracked the cap — I barely drank any of it."

For the next several days, I threw myself into streaming, combat training, and sculpting. Of course, I never skipped my Neidan practice, the foundation beneath every sorcery I knew. About a week in, the result finally began to resemble something.

Three meters tall, with arms and legs thick as old tree trunks. A tiger-like face bearing three eyes. A warrior statue, sword in one hand and whip in the other, stood complete. I sealed a spirit talisman bearing my name into the finished figure and drew a formation around it — the same nature-concentrating array I'd used for the Green Immortal Pill. Then, in that state, I chanted scripture over the statue for three days and three nights straight.

Honestly, of all the steps, this one nearly killed me. Three days and nights sounds manageable until you realize that just enduring it without doing anything is hard enough — reciting scripture the entire time was pure agony. If my physical abilities hadn't been raised by Daoist power, I wouldn't even have dared attempt it.

And at the end of that ordeal, the Dharmapala Guardian was finally complete.

Psssshhhhhh—

The earthen shell of the statue crumbled away, revealing within it a colossal figure in the statue's exact image.

—————!

A silent roar shook everything around us.

"Holy..."

The spiritual pressure was no joke. The power radiating off it was far greater than I'd anticipated.

This is dangerous...

You'd think a strong familiar would be a good thing, but a Dharmapala Guardian is nothing like a mage's familiar or an onmyoji's shikigami. It's a being of equal standing to a Daoist master — in a sense, of even higher rank.

The guardian I had summoned was Wang Lingguan — one of the foremost protective deities of Daoism, positioned opposite Vidyraja Weituo of Buddhism. Of course, what stood before me wasn't the true Wang Lingguan but a manifestation split off from that concept. Even so, the aura emanating from this manifestation of Wang Lingguan was entirely real.

Gulp.

The sword in his right hand glowed crimson, and the golden whip in his left writhed as if alive. And in the next moment —

Swish.

Wang Lingguan fastened the sword and whip to his waist and raised a cupped fist salute with his empty hands. It meant he accepted my summons.

Swish.

I returned the salute in kind.

Nod.

Wang Lingguan dipped his head, slowly turned translucent, and vanished. He had accepted my request for guardianship.

"...Hoooh!"

My tension drained away all at once, and I collapsed right where I stood. It was only then that I remembered Lee Ha-ram and turned around —

Blub, blub.

She was unconscious, foaming at the mouth. She hadn't simply fainted from fright; the aura Wang Lingguan had unleashed had knocked her flat.

Anyway, with this...

"Wang Lingguan, you're mine now!"

I had my vanguard — a body to throw between me and whatever came swinging at me while I wound up a straight punch.

"Looks like we're finishing way ahead of schedule. Want to learn a few more sorcery arts with the time we've got left?"

I never knew leveling up could be this much fun.

"Uuuughhh..."

"Hahh... hahh... hahh..."

Class 1-2, Seonhwa High School. That classroom — one of the only safe zones left inside the school — was where a handful of surviving students hid, holding their breath.

Then —

Scrape.

An enormous face pressed itself against the classroom window. It was a face they all knew.

The first-year head teacher.

The head teacher, no longer human, tapped his bloated, swollen face against the glass and spoke.

"Kiddies, it's time to go home. Any students still here, head home now, all of you."

"Cover your ears!"

"Everyone, cover your ears NOW!"

A few of the older students screamed the warning, and the students gathered in the classroom clapped their hands over their ears in unison. But a few of the younger ones, worn out from crying, had fallen asleep — and they couldn't cover their ears.

Bolt upright.

The sleeping students rose from their seats stiff as reanimated corpses, then bolted for the classroom door.

"Damn it! Grab them, block the door—!"

Rattle!

Two students shook off the hands holding them back and made it out of the classroom. And the instant they did —

Shrreeeck!

The head teacher's gigantic face — the same face that had just told them school was over — split open from crown to chin. Within the fissure, fang-like teeth were packed wall to wall. And with that grotesque maw, the head teacher tore into the upper bodies of the two students who'd stepped out.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

Blood and flesh sprayed across the corridor, painting a fresh, vivid red over the blackened, long-dried stains. When his meal was finished, the head teacher left the two legless halves behind and moved on down the hall.

The students could only stare after him, hollow-eyed. No one grieved. No one wept. Their tears and their feelings had dried up long, long ago.

As if nothing had happened, the students drifted back to their corners of the room, turning their fear over and over in their minds. Among them was Yu Min-seo.

Tap, tap-tap.

Yu Min-seo stared at her phone, expressionless. It had been a full week since she was trapped in the school. Fighting to survive, she'd seen every filthy, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠horrifying thing there was to see. Many had died to monsters like the head teacher — but far more had lost hope and taken their own lives.

And yet Yu Min-seo's heart still hadn't broken, because she had a pillar to lean on.

What Yu Min-seo was watching was the most popular video on Channel Kim Do-sa. She was a devoted fan. How devoted? She'd downloaded and saved every video the channel had ever uploaded for her personal collection. The school turning into this nightmare had killed the internet, but videos saved offline could still play without Wi-Fi.

Thank god I saved them all in advance...

A week trapped in school by an inexplicable phenomenon — and in that time, Channel Kim Do-sa had become something far more to Yu Min-seo than just a YouTuber she liked.

That's right... if anomalies like these exist, then people with real psychic power like Kim Do-sa must be real too! If I can just hold out a little longer...

She was still steadying herself with the thought when —

"Huh?"

The Wi-Fi icon popped up on her status bar.

"What is this?"

In an entire week, this had never once happened. She hurriedly opened the Wi-Fi menu.

That was the network's name. The moment she read the words that followed it, Yu Min-seo's hands moved on pure reflex.