The Hospital Where People Disappear [8]

The Azoth.

Since the Azoth was an item Paracelsus himself had used, its recipe naturally appeared in Paracelsus's Alchemy Workshop.

Its crafting difficulty was rated magnum opus — a transcendent tier beyond the five standard stages, equal in rank to the Philosopher's Stone.

And when did my alchemy skills climb to that level, you ask? Sorry, no. Genius or not, there's no way someone who's studied alchemy for less than a month could produce its greatest masterpiece.

The only reason I could create the Azoth was that I already possessed the two most crucial ingredients for making it.

One was the Philosopher's Stone.

Yes — the single most important ingredient of the Azoth was the Philosopher's Stone itself.

I ran my thumb over the stone affixed to the pommel of the Azoth, gripped in a reverse hold.

That was when the monster that had once been Baek Gong-ju lashed out with the tendrils sprouting from her eyes.

Hsssh!

The tendril split the wall of the narrow corridor like butter as it whipped toward my face.

I knew the instant I saw it. The power riding that tendril was nothing so crude as mere physical force. It carried within it an incomprehensible energy that eroded and disassembled matter in reality itself.

A textbook attack you must never block — only evade.

And I blocked that unavoidable strike with the Azoth.

Veeeeeeeeng!

The instant the Azoth met the tendril, there was no clash of impact — only a strange ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠resonant hum as the tendril was flung away.

Good. It works properly!

According to legend, the Azoth could turn every worthless thing into gold. Of course, that was metaphor; the real Azoth's power was similar but not quite the same.

The true power of the Azoth was this: everything of sorcery, mysticism, or anomaly that touched its blade was transmuted into pure spiritual force.

Simply put, it forcibly converted an opponent's spells and anomalous abilities into a pure contest of raw power — spiritual force against spiritual force.

And Do-ryeok, the Daoist spiritual power, is a force superior to any other spiritual energy in both density and output.

In other words, once the Azoth converted an enemy's attack into a straight collision of pure spiritual force, I could absorb even a Special-Grade strike.

Whoom! Whoom!

Deflecting the black tendrils that came flying like whips, I confirmed that fact for myself.

Fortunately, the corrupted Baek Gong-ju could barely use any of her own sorcery.

But that did nothing to ease my mind.

...It feels like my brain is being gnawed away.

When I'd first met the false Dragon King on Yeoindo, instinct had screamed at me that letting that thing land on the island was unacceptable. I had no idea what would happen if it did — but I was certain it would be something I couldn't bear.

And now, right in front of me, stood Baek Gong-ju, corrupted by a being born from the same origin point as that false Dragon King.

The result was horrific. The mere fact that this thing existed within my line of sight made my brain feel like it was sizzling apart at the edges. And if I were to touch it directly, something far worse than this would surely happen.

"Why is the elevator on the first floor?!"

"I can't help it! As a failsafe to minimize damage in an emergency, the system forces every car that reaches the 108th floor to return to the lobby and stay locked there for ten minutes!"

From the far end of the corridor came the sound of Yoon Soo-ah and Baek Dong-sik squabbling.

Hearing it cut off any lazy fantasy of stalling for time and then bolting.

I'm not holding out. I'm winning.

Even with a defensive measure in hand, the Azoth was, at best, a limited one. If it landed even a single hit on me, I'd be critically wounded. Worse, merely facing this thing down was grinding away at my sanity. In a war of attrition, defeat was guaranteed.

Which left exactly one way to win: dump every trump card I'd prepared for the Gong No-sa confrontation into one overwhelming barrage, and end this in a single decisive clash!

At that moment, the floor beneath the corrupted Baek Gong-ju began to blacken.

The darkened corridor soon bubbled and boiled, and a wave of sticky tar flooded the passage, surging toward me.

"Fey! Into the Azoth!"

-Understood!

Two ingredients were essential to completing the Azoth. One was the Philosopher's Stone — and the other, a high-ranked demon.

I had substituted Fey's existence for the demon. Which is to say, the Azoth was also the artefact through which Fey and I formalized our ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠contract.

The boost to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the output of Fey's powers was thanks to my own growth, but the reason she could now exercise her strength freely, without limits, was this: through the Azoth, our contract had been made official.

And a formally contracted Fey, by entering the Azoth itself, could unleash far greater power. While she dwelled within it, my spiritual force could be added directly to her authority.

Crashaaaaaa!

A wave far larger than the one that had first trapped Baek Gong-ju shoved the black tar aside — and then, not stopping there, the wave swallowed and bound the corrupted woman all over again.

Grrrrrrrrrrk!

Her massive frame compressed and hunched in an instant.

But once more, the black tendrils growing from her eyes tore the prison of water apart without fail.

The false Dragon King had been the same. Those tendrils carried not physical energy but some unknowable force, and thanks to that, they shredded everything they touched — physical or spiritual alike. In a sense, those tendrils were a far more troublesome weapon than all the myriad sorceries and divine powers Baek Gong-ju had ever commanded.

It didn't matter. The wave I'd just unleashed was, from first to last, a feint to set up my next move — the second of the trump cards I'd prepared for the confrontation with Gong No-sa.

"Worrying only about what you can see is useless!"

As the wave swept over the corrupted Baek Gong-ju, it left behind a ring of special talismans around her.

Countless talismans a day rolled off my brush — but these nine were the ones I'd spent an entire day crafting, one by one.

Every one of them had been made for a single formation.

Sssrrrrrrrrk!

From the eight talismans marking the outer palaces of the nine, transparent chains shot forth and seized the corrupted Baek Gong-ju. Then, as the crowning touch —

Whoosh!

The final talisman, representing the central palace, flew through the air and slapped onto her forehead. With that, the Nine-Palace Soul-Locking Formation was complete.

Vuuuuuuuuuum!

The nine talismans resonated, and the energy of the Five Elements began cycling within the formation, constricting Baek Gong-ju's body.

----------!

Even in that state, she whipped her tendrils around like a thing possessed. Desperately, I beat back every flailing strike with the Azoth.

Veeeeng!

Veeeeeeeng!

It felt less like cutting with a blade and more like shoving away the opposite pole of a magnet, over and over, as the crazed tendrils came screaming in — beat them back, beat them back, and beat them back again. There were only two of the things, but their speed and power were such that a single instant's mistake would send me straight to the afterlife.

Honestly, it was the first time since I'd begun training in internal alchemy that I'd ever felt my physical abilities lacking.

But I held out until the Nine-Palace Soul-Locking Formation was complete. And then —

Sssrrrrrrrk!

Countless chains wound around Baek Gong-ju and forced her to her knees.

Without missing that opening, I flung out dozens of Spirit-Binding Talismans. Propelled by my environmental transmutation art, they plastered themselves across her entire chrysalis-wrapped body.

At that instant, chains sprouted from the talismans as well, linking themselves to the Nine-Palace formation.

By this point, even Baek Gong-ju could no longer swing her tendrils.

This was the secret formation I'd prepared to hold Gong No-sa: the Nine-Palace Soul-Locking Spirit-Binding Formation — an original sealing art combining the Nine-Palace Soul-Locking Formation with the Spirit-Binding Talismans. A technique born from my experience fusing formations with talisman craft during the fight against Jeong-in.

I had designed it with a Special-Grade like Gong No-sa as the assumed enemy. Having taken it head-on, there was no escape for Baek Gong-ju now.

Skreeeeeeeech!

Grrrrrrk!

Granted, while the Nine-Palace Soul-Locking Spirit-Binding Formation was strong enough to bind a Special-Grade, its duration wasn't long. Which meant it was meant either to pin something down while you ran —

Or as a stalling spell to buy time for the next big technique.

This time, it was the latter.

I drew a glass vial from my coat. It was the same jar I normally used to hold the consecrated sand for the Vairocana Mantra Barrier.

But what filled the vial now was no ordinary sand. It was a powder of gleaming gold — a golden dust ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that brought pure gold to mind. Not gold itself, mind you. Considering the time and expense that had gone into making it, it made simple gold look like dirt.

Comet dust.

A special powder made by finely grinding a genuine fragment of a comet and refining it through alchemy — the third trump card I'd prepared for the confrontation with Gong No-sa.

And how exactly did I get my hands on a comet fragment, you ask?

Lostco.

If not now, when would I ever use it? For the record: it was ruinously expensive. Nauseatingly so. But the results were every bit as certain.

Shwaak!

Propelled by environmental transmutation, the dust inscribed yet another formation outside the Nine-Palace Soul-Locking Spirit-Binding Formation.

Do you have any idea how much that cost?!

Shedding tears of blood on the inside, I formed the Wisdom Fist Mudra, and chanted the mantra I'd long since committed to memory, pouring in every last drop of Do-ryeok I could currently muster.

With the mantra, blue flames like those I'd glimpsed on the Fire-Tipped Spear erupted from the comet dust, and in a heartbeat they swallowed the Baek Gong-ju held fast in the formation, swirling into a roaring vortex.

As the mantra continued, the heat of the flames grew fiercer still, and the corridor — no, the alternate space that had taken the shape of a corridor — began to melt away, space itself and all.

I laid down a boundary covenant, concentrating the full force of the heat entirely upon the corrupted Baek Gong-ju.

And then I spoke the final words that completed the mantra.

Vuuuuuuuuuum!

A radiance rivaling the blue light that had repelled the Seirene descended upon Seonhwa High!

Fsssssssshh

And when the blue supernova had burst and faded, all that remained was a charred, carbonized silhouette in the shape of a human being.

"Whew...!"

My Do-ryeok was all but scraped to the bottom of the barrel. Even gasping for breath, I checked the sight before me and let out a sigh of relief.

...I won!

Against a Special-Grade!

Granted, Baek Gong-ju had been so thoroughly corrupted that neither her near-limitless spiritual force nor her assorted sorceries and divine powers were available to her. But a win was a win.

So an attack like this can kill a Special-Grade...

Naturally, against a Special-Grade at full strength, nobody would stand still and eat an elaborate, long-preparation technique like this. Even if they did, they'd block it with their own sorcery or sabotage mine outright.

But whatever the caveats, the simple fact that I now possessed the means to kill a Special-Grade was encouraging.

Flinch!

"What—!?"

At that moment, the carbonized hand of Baek Gong-ju moved.

Looking closely, I could see her charred body regenerating, little by little.

"You've got to be kidding me...?"

Common sense says a living body dies when it burns to ash. But as with the false Dragon King, the rules of biology clearly didn't apply to these things.

"So I have to obliterate it completely to kill it?"

The false Dragon King had been the same — simply cutting, crushing, or burning wasn't enough. It seemed that to kill these things, I had to physically vaporize a certain minimum percentage of their bodies.

I stepped forward to crush the still-regenerating body of Baek Gong-ju before it could finish. That was when —

Vuuuum.

The Philosopher's Stone on the Azoth's pommel began to glow.

A reaction I'd seen once before — the exact same one, when Yoon Soo-ah drank the [Suicide Train] beverage and began mutating into an anomaly.

Which meant...

"...Baek Gong-ju can be turned back into a human, too?"

The question flashed through my mind. Was there really any need to save her?

But I quickly shook my head. The history between Baek Gong-ju and me was, even in the loosest sense, not a good one — proof enough being that I never lost a single memory to the Changeling distortion.

And yet, it wasn't a grudge so bitter that I'd shove aside a life I could save with nothing more than an outstretched hand.

Above all —

"Yi-yeon, sir!"

I am not nearly psycho enough to kill a grandmother in front of her own granddaughter.

I approached Baek Gong-ju as she regenerated in her form as an anomaly, and took her pulse.

Then, together, I pushed in the radiance pouring from the Philosopher's Stone and my own Do-ryeok.

"From this moment on, the old hag and the Paranormal Administration Bureau are my puppets. I accept no rebuttals."

Save a life, and you're owed at least that much, surely?