What is Exorcism?
The term exorcism comes from driving away evil demons that seek to harm the innocent and pure—or any living creature.
From ancient times, even wandering spirits, whether evil ghosts or petty ones, were fundamentally beings bound by grudges, so shamans never sought to annihilate them while bearing the karma of taking life. Instead, the mainstream approach was to gently soothe them and send their souls to the afterlife, or give them a thorough scolding before banishing them to the underworld, or seal them under a more powerful deity to purify their malevolent energy.
In other words, exorcism holds meaning in giving even wayward petty ghosts or evil spirits a chance to repent and reflect on their own. Because they, too, were once human in life.
But what must be done to someone who is alive and well, yet willfully dives into evil, defiles their own soul without hesitation, and blasphemes the divine without remorse?
If they were merely possessed, one could simply perform the most straightforward procedure of exorcism. Most possession cases resolve that way.
But how does one deal with a human who isn't possessed by anything—who has chosen to become evil of their own accord?
When confronting such people, shamans are typically forced to choose between two options.
The first is to borrow the power of the deity they serve and crush the opponent with overwhelming force, delivering a massive spiritual blow to their corrupted mind harboring evil intent. This is an intensely powerful shock therapy, but one misstep could cripple a person for life, so only the most profoundly spiritual shamans attempt it. Only a Ten Thousand Gods shaman who has faithfully borne their shamanic karma without faltering for years, or a high monk who has abandoned all worldly ties under the Buddha to walk the path of enlightenment, can pull it off. Just as an ordinary priest can't suddenly perform an exorcism in place of a dedicated exorcist, ordinary shamans or monks can't even attempt it.
That's why most choose the second option: ignore them.
They know there's no benefit in meddling with a human who has chosen evil of their own will, untainted by devils, evil gods, or evil spirits. Shamans who operate in the spiritual realm are meant to resolve grudges and tales tied to spiritual entities—not to deeply interfere with the living beyond perhaps reading fortunes. So they shake their heads and say, "Nothing to be done."
"Then what the hell is that?"
Yonghwa Seonnyeo had been shaking her bell to block the malevolent aura pouring from the villain—a being so covered in animal corpses and grudges that it no longer even resembled a human.
She had to protect the clueless idiot filming the scene with his camera right beside her. Even though his entire fate chart was obliterated and his soul badly twisted, he was "still" human, so she had a duty to guard him.
But what was that thing over there, acting like some ridiculous clown with exaggerated gestures, spouting lines that stuck unnaturally in her mind?
How was it extracting evil energy from a villain?
'It's cleansing a soul so steeped in evil it's beyond filthy.'
That's how it looked to her eyes, at least.
The monster calling itself "Han Daeri" was shaving away the crystallized malice clinging to the sinner with a few simple gestures and serpentine words. It paid no mind to the fragments scattering everywhere, obsessively purifying the sinner's soul to pristine white like a germaphobe fixated on spotlessness.
What was that? Exorcism? Spirit banishment? Or... "absolution"?
Yonghwa Seonnyeo glanced at the elder she served, seeking an answer. This one might know something.
The dragon that had claimed its throne in the Han River—the spine and heart of the Korean Peninsula, where humanity gathered most densely—for over a millennium. It had grown from a mere earthworm to a snake, then an imugi, and finally a true dragon capable of ascending to heaven, yet it remained on earth by the will of the heavenly lord to protect the land.
One of only three dragons left on the peninsula. Lesser in nobility than the one coiled in Baekdu Mountain's Heaven Lake, but greater in noble purpose. Lesser in mysticism than the one in Halla Mountain's Baekrokdam, but mightier in power.
She had known this Yongsin's favor since her kindergarten days. This one would surely provide an answer.
—What it's doing is 'absolution.'—
She nearly dropped the bell she'd never let go of in her lifetime.
"...That can't be, Elder. How can what that monster is doing be 'absolution'? Isn't that a limited authority of the heavenly lords—or the sole power of this world's one true God?"
But the dragon god, a millennium as a dragon and far longer before that alongside this land, quietly shook its head.
It was unmistakably absolution. Forcibly extracting sin from the sinner and washing their evil-tainted soul clean, it reaffirmed.
She wanted to squeeze her eyes shut.
Could absolution really happen just because that thing—with its twisted features, pitch-black soul without end, and ego so ironclad it trusted nothing but itself—was dancing and prattling blasphemously?
She could sorta understand it hypnotizing or brainwashing someone with its snake tongue. 'A thing like that could pull off such tricks.'
But absolution? No. Absolution could never be performed by the living on the living—or the dead.
No matter how great a god one served, no matter how much heavenly karma one bore lifelong, absolution was beyond the realm of the living. Only the highest god enthroned in heaven could grant it.
For the moment absolution was bestowed, no matter how grave the sins, the being escaped judgment entirely. Instead of standing at the tribunal to have their crimes laid bare and receive fitting punishment, they ascended straight to paradise.
How could that possibly be right?
—Behold it. The underworld messengers tried to bind that fox spirit with their ropes the moment its life ended and drag it away, but they failed.—
It was true.
The wicked fox spirit, clad in curses like armor and having slaughtered countless lives, shed tears and cried out to Jesus while clinging to "it"—and its sins washed away.
The gloomy sky cleared, and a brilliant sun emerged in the vast heavens, bathing them in warm light.
One of the grimacing underworld messengers, grinding its teeth, raged as the fox spirit's name vanished from the ledgers.
In real-world terms, it was like cops who had to let a heinous criminal slip through their fingers at the scene.
Called reapers in the East, Grim Reaper in the West, and among shamans "executioners" who could more readily wield killing and annihilation against evil spirits than the more decorous psychopomps. Unlike the latter, who politely guide the dead, these ones would casually cleave the living's necks with massive scythes if provoked.
Even such beings couldn't withstand the holy sunlight and retreated.
Their scythes, swung to their limits, were badly chipped and shattered in places.
That thing's ego was overwhelmingly strong. Trusting only itself, believing it "lived," its soul's resilience was unmatched. No fated destiny, predetermined death, or inexorable natural order could pierce, shatter, or overturn it.
—You made a pact with it. To personally claim its life at the end.
—You bear a burden far greater than the karma heaven itself decreed.—
"......"
She knew. She was cooperating in this shady affair precisely because she'd promised to take its life herself at the last.
It was like a cop teaming up with a criminal. So no matter what it did, she had to aid silently, without interference. That's what they'd agreed.
"I can't even guess how badly this world will shatter before I claim that thing's soul."
—What is broken can be mended, tangled threads unraveled.
—But if all burns to ash, even that becomes impossible. Reap its soul before it sets everything ablaze.—
The bell fell still.
The fox spirit's soul, once stained with every filthy sin, donned robes of pure white and ascended to heaven.
The psychopomps raged, the executioners clattered their skeletal jaws in disgust. But soon even they realized it was pointless and dispersed one by one.
They knew toppling that mountain of an ego required even greater power.
Perhaps they awaited its self-collapse.
Meanwhile, Han Daeri stood alone, arms spread wide, basking in the warm sunlight like a spotlight, tears of genuine emotion streaming down his face.
Yonghwa Seonnyeo let out a low groan at the sight.
There was no falsehood in it. He felt true responsibility and fulfillment in absolving the sinner's crimes and sending them up with sincere comfort, staking everything on it.
Was it a devil? A new god never before seen in this world? Or...
"So utterly human."
Humanity incarnate. The archetype of humanity. The most primal human.
100% pure human, untouched by any divine aura. Too immaculate to call beastly. Too vile to hail as godly. Too extraordinary to dismiss as mere creation.
That was the true "human"—standing tall and solitary, without gods' aid, harmony with the world, or beasts' praise.