Hwasinjo
A sleeping mountain awoke, and from it a bird took flight.
In the local tongue, Topuramu. Rendered literally into the continental common speech: Fire Bird.
A freer translation would name it more fittingly — the Hwasinjo, the Fire Divine Beast.
The character for "divine" had to be there. For the Hwasinjo was no mere spirit beast, but a creature that brushed the threshold of a true divine beast.
Appearing only rarely across the Southern Continent, centuries apart, this being hatched from an egg its mother had left behind — bursting free amid flame in places thick with fire energy and vital yang force, most often volcanic terrain.
A newborn Hwasinjo carried within its body a Fire Core. That core was its origin, its life, its very essence.
Born already a spirit beast, the Hwasinjo needed no parent. Even without a guardian, instinct alone taught it what it must do: grow the Fire Core until it could ascend to the true ranks of the divine beasts.
It was the same principle by which any animal strives, in its youth, to become a proper adult. Eat. Grow. Simple enough.
From that moment the Hwasinjo began gathering the world's energies into its Fire Core — absorbing pure fire energy without cease, refining the core until it was complete, until the final shedding of its shell.
The process was grueling and barren of joy. It could take centuries. It could take millennia.
Before that last, impossibly distant metamorphosis, the Hwasinjo passed through several moltings — evolutions. Just as martial artists climbed through distinct realms, the growth of the Fire Core followed fixed stages.
And whenever the core was ready to advance, the Hwasinjo sank into a deep sleep. More precisely, it withdrew deep into its inner self, concentrating everything on shattering the wall before it — not unlike a caterpillar sealing itself inside a chrysalis to transform.
In that state the Hwasinjo lay vulnerable. Relatively speaking, of course. It chose the most secluded depths where nothing would disturb it, and its body radiated a heat so catastrophic that flesh would melt from bone at a touch. Finding one was nearly impossible. Even if you did, doing anything about it was harder still. You could scarcely lay a fingertip on it.
And yet — merchants of the continent, swollen with luck and madness and obsession and greed, had dragged the sleeping creature here. Certain of a fortune beyond measure, they handed it over to the Full Moon Auction.
Without the faintest dream of what it truly was, or what it would bring.
From what Leon knew through the original story, that Hwasinjo was at least five hundred years old. It had already completed two moltings and was entering its third stage.
So what he was looking at now was a Hwasinjo that had only just finished its latest shedding and stepped into the third tier of its Fire Core.
Toward that creature, Leon and Aria's figures fell in a long, arcing plunge.
A drop of several dozen meters at the least. Room 78 sat on the auction house's highest floor.
Fwoooooooosh—!
A vicious wind of fire slammed into Leon as he descended.
Bald is absolutely not an option.
Without the fireproof hood, every last hair on his head would have burned away.
Tap—!
Landing lightly, Leon broke into a run toward the stage.
The closer he drew to the center, the more keenly he felt the Hwasinjo's divine presence. The pressure it radiated crushed down on his chest; its fire energy threatened to cook him alive from the outside in.
Charging straight into the heart of a firestorm was never going to be easy.
Fwoooooooosh—!
The heat struck Leon's eyes until they burned a savage red. Wrapping mana around his entire body, he swelled the muscles of his thighs and drove through the storm.
The resistance was so fierce that the slightest loss of balance would have hurled him backward across the hall.
Leon spat the words out.
"This isn't working. Aria — we go in one shot."
Aria nodded.
Leon swept his sword in a clean, elegant arc.
Bigwanggeomhyeong — Form One: Pagwang
Hwaaaaaaah—!
In an instant, a blue spherical wave erupted — a stark counterpoint to the red that filled the entire space. Mana expanded in a perfect circle and shoved the fire energy aside. Air rushed back into his lungs. A path opened.
Leon and Aria did not waste that heartbeat. They sprinted forward.
At the same time, mana gathered in both of Aria's hands.
"elum- gias Veria."
Kwa-chzzzzzzzzzt!
The moment Leon's sword barrier faded, Aria unfurled a long, arched barrier. A tunnel of blue mana walls sprang into being and opened a corridor.
Its terminus was the entrance to the passage beneath the stage — the one the staff had been using to come and go.
Krrrrrrrk—!
This was Aria's barrier. And still the fire energy was so overwhelming that the walls began to buckle in mere seconds.
Leon stamped out the Heavenly Spirit Steps; Aria, lightning coiled around her whole body, ran.
Beyond the barrier, atop the high stage platform, the Hwasinjo's house-sized bulk was visible. As if venting some private fury, it thrashed its blazing wings and raged without reason.
See you again in a bit.
Leon sent it a greeting with his eyes — a cheerful little hello.
Closing the distance in a blink, he kicked open the double doors at the passage entrance. They flew wide without resistance.
Crash!
The barrier shattered all at once, scattering mana fragments. Fire energy poured through.
Leon and Aria hurled themselves into the passage by a hair's breadth.
What met them was a long corridor. Pale lights flickered. From the ceiling above came the booming vibrations of the Hwasinjo's rampage.
Then —
Far ahead, from a side path branching off the corridor, people in formal dress came spilling out in a rush. From the flow of their energy, they were mages.
They caught sight of the masked intruders who had appeared from nowhere and their eyes went wide.
"Wha—?! Intruders!"
The woman in the lead thrust out her arm. Refined mana surged toward her fingertips.
Jecheon Sword Style — Form One: Gaehyeong
Choha
A streak of light cut across the corridor. The arm of the woman preparing her spell was severed clean — not so much as a wet sound of tearing flesh.
"...Huh?"
She stared at the emptiness where her forearm had been, baffled.
Crack!
Her head snapped violently sideways, and she crumpled without resistance.
In that same span —
Thwack! Crack! Bang! Thud! Crunch!
Bodies went flying, slamming into walls and ceiling. Aria dropped the five mages behind them in a single blow each.
"..."
Leon and Aria did not so much as exchange a glance. They kept running.
They ignored the smaller side paths branching left and right and drove straight ahead. Before long, a silver swing door appeared, marked with a sign that read Waiting Room.
Bang!
They shoved it open as if to break it.
Crates. Shelves. Cages. It was a vast storeroom — the place where goods for today's auction were kept, waiting for staff to carry them out onto the stage in order.
In other words: a room strewn with treasures worth a fortune.
Even most of the items that had already been bid on were still here. Guests who claimed their purchases on the spot, the way Leon had, were rare.
Tap!
Leon sprinted off in one direction.
Aria flung a large subspace sack onto the floor.
She spread both arms. Her core spun hard, drinking in mana and forging it into power.
Then —
Shhhhhhhk—!
Dozens of threads of mana burst from Aria's hands. The thick strands shot outward in every direction, seized objects like grasping fingers, and hauled them in.
Telekinesis magic. Aria began stuffing every item in the storeroom into the sack without mercy — and in the same motion filtered out anything of little value or no particular use.
That speed. That precision. It was thievery elevated to something almost miraculous.
While Aria was sweeping the goods clean, Leon — senses flung wide open — reached a far corner of the storeroom.
"..."
Trembling gazes flew to him and locked on.
Inside a dense iron-barred cage, children in shackles were packed tight. Some faces he had seen up on the stage; others were new. A white-haired girl's pale hair stood out among them.
What they all shared was fear of the chaos raging above. They huddled together in one corner of the cell, trembling. Every boom from overhead made their shoulders flinch tighter.
"..."
Leon rolled his eyes, then sent a telepathic message to Aria.
Then he spun —
Suddenly his face twisted. He looked back the way he had come.
But the next instant, the expression turned to pure disbelief.
— Little brother. I'll handle the rear.
A familiar voice rang through his skull. Hera.
Why is she here?
Leon was briefly thrown, then accepted it almost at once.
Fine. Okay.
The plan had been improvisation from the start. A variable of this size was nothing — and a distinctly positive one at that.
Then that side goes to big sister.
If she was drawing her blade, no enemy that came would matter.
Leon made the call in a fraction of a second and turned his eyes forward again.
He reversed his grip on the sword and gathered his presence.
Because —
"..."
The energy of the one standing dead ahead was nothing to take lightly.
"Grrrk..."
In the middle of the space lined with iron cages, a man in rags glared at Leon. Bloodshot eyes glittered through greasy hair — clearly not right in the head.
A riot was unfolding outside, and he showed not the slightest interest. He was wary of Leon alone, the intruder.
A shackle bound one of his ankles; the chain attached to it was long enough to let him roam a radius of a good ten meters without trouble.
Leon eased a foot forward, then drew it back. The shackled man twitched and dropped into a stance to charge.
Cross a certain line and the attack would come instantly. A slave guard, bound tight with brainwashing and seals.
And his level was extremely high. For watching a waiting room, this one man was more than enough — surplus, even.
Behind the shackled man stood another large door: the entrance into the Full Moon's main warehouse.
So this had to be broken through first.
Leon could not spare a minute, not a second. And he felt nothing in particular toward a tool like this.
So he made an offer.
"You're basically a watchdog. Hey — want me to let you go? It's chaos out there. Just run while you can. If we fight, I won't be able to keep you alive."
"..."
"...Yeah. Fuck. Of course talking wouldn't work."
Leon sighed, then kicked off the ground.