Battle at Sea (2)

"Anyone who gets that scholar out of my sight will be rewarded! And prepare the ritual at once!"

At those words, burly laborers joined the remaining guards in closing a ring around me. Their martial skill was nothing next to the bodyguards', but the raw strength of working men — and the simple fact of their numbers — was not something I could afford to dismiss.

"Get over here!!"

"As if saying that would make me stand still and let you!"

And that was precisely why they were easy to deal with. If anything, Master Nam's promise of a reward had only made the fight smoother. The bounty had blinded their eyes and deafened their ears, and their bulk and numbers had made them arrogant.

"Guhh!"

"Aaagh!"

They crumpled one after another beneath the flat of my blade, never even getting the chance to put their full strength into a blow. Once nearly a dozen laborers had gone down, Master Nam seemed to realize the situation was slipping away from him.

"...Damn it! Can none of you catch that bastard?!"

He snatched a sword from one of the fallen guards and came striding straight at me.

Whoosh!

"Die!!"

For a merchant, Master Nam possessed remarkable martial skill — enough, perhaps, to stand comparison with the guards he kept at his side. As our blades crossed, I found I could not help but smile.

"Pfft. Heh."

"...You! What are you laughing at?!"

"It seems... you didn't just receive information from that old monk, did you?"

"...?!"

"Yokai energy is crawling off you. You're no yokai yourself... I see. You've sworn yourself to one, haven't you?"

"What in the world are you talking about..."

Every yokai is a being of harm to humankind. That is why most people fear them and seek to stand against them. But a rare few instead try to use them — even to serve them.

...Just like the man standing in front of me.

"You offered up human lives as the price of your submission? And what did you receive in return? Safe passage for your ships?"

"You dare make a mockery of me — the head of the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Namju Merchant Guild?!"

I glanced around at the surrounding merchants and laborers. At the mention of yokai, their reactions split cleanly in two: those who looked as though they could scarcely believe their ears, and those who went pale with panic. The former had nothing to do with it. The latter almost certainly did.

Clang!

I knocked Master Nam's sword aside in a single stroke and leveled my blade at his throat before he could try anything foolish.

"Hhk!"

"I cannot say how long you have been a yokai's pawn... but it ends here."

These perverted human sacrifices in the Dragon King's name must never happen again. All the more so if that was a yokai's design.

But at my words, Master Nam hung his head — then burst into a mad laugh.

"Kh-khk! Khhahaha!!"

Without a trace of fear for the blade at his throat, he craned his face toward mine. Even as the edge opened a wound and blood ran down his neck, he laughed as though he felt no pain at all.

"Heeheeheehee!"

"...?"

I noticed Master Nam's condition beginning to change. His skin was taking on a drowned, bluish cast. His pupils blew wide, and the vessels in his eyes began to burst.

...But this was not Master Nam's problem alone.

"Scholar!!"

"...Something's gone very wrong."

"Ghhhkk!"

"Ahahaha!!"

Most of those aboard the ship had begun to show the same symptoms as Master Nam. Laborer or merchant, it made no difference — every last one of them was acting strangely.

"Cheong! Come here."

"Y-yes!"

I pulled Cheong well away from the ritual altar. I checked her over as I did, half-expecting her to show the same signs — but she seemed unharmed.

"...The talisman is reacting."

"W-what do we do...?"

"Do not take that talisman off, no matter what. And that altar's been bothering me since I first laid eyes on it..."

I looked at the ritual altar and barely managed to swallow a surge of horror.

"The pig's head is lying upside down, and they've hidden blood-soaked raw meat among the other offerings."

At the center of the table, a talisman had been affixed — not ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in characters dedicated to the Dragon King, but in an archaic script that had long since fallen out of use. And rather than sandalwood, they were burning mugwort incense, the kind used to mask a smell. And last of all... salt had been piled at regular intervals along the ship's edges, everywhere except around the altar itself.

...As though to protect the ship from something.

Thud.

"..."

The ship stopped.

The wind died, and a thick sea fog began to roll in, dense and choking. It should have been daytime, yet the sun was swallowed by black clouds, and the distant shoreline vanished from sight. With no wind, the waves too fell still.

And yet...

Creeeak... creeeak...

Then what was that bone-chilling sound coming from beneath ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the hull?

"S-Scholar..."

Cheong called to me, her voice thick with terror. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she pointed over the side of the ship, trembling.

The sea had turned black. It was not seaweed.

"...Hair."

Human hair, spread across the water as far as the eye could see.

Something began climbing onto the ship.

Puffy, water-bloated hands rose over the people who were slowly getting to their feet with empty eyes, and seized them by the head. I slowly drew Cheong behind me and murmured.

"...Water-Killing Ghosts."

In other words — water ghosts.

The master of that vast, inhuman ghostly energy revealed itself.

Water ghosts are spirits that even shamans dread, owing to their unique geography and the overwhelming Yin energy they carry. A ghost already steeped in Yin, dwelling in water — which is Yin itself. Of course they would.

But the spirit before me was no ordinary water ghost. If what Master Nam had done was true, this was a ghost born of at least a dozen virgin maidens drowned over the course of fifteen years.

Ghostly energy this vile...

The force of it was so potent that my brow furrowed of its own accord, and a cough rose in my throat. In truth, this was likely no mere ghost at all. Water ghosts born of more than tenfold grudges, gathered into one — a being of a higher order than any ordinary water ghost. Now I understood why the seas had grown so treacherous these past fifteen years, and why so many ships had come to grief.

Creeeak. Creeeak. Creeeak.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ghost looked about, then began ravenously devouring the raw meat laid out on the altar. Then it dragged over a nearby merchant and tore his head off, eating it whole. It was one of the merchants who had looked implicated in Master Nam's affairs just moments ago.

...You can't just beat a ghost to death the way you would a yokai.

This was a thoroughly inconvenient situation. The people had been possessed. We were in the middle of the ocean — the water ghost's own domain. And with the ritual altar set, the ship itself was saturated with Yin energy. There was not a scrap of Yang to be found.

I whispered to Cheong.

"Cheong."

"Y-yes."

"While I draw its attention, can you go below and smash the oil jars?"

"The oil jars...?"

"And if you find any liquor, bring it. Ah — drink some yourself, just in case."

The sudden request left Cheong flustered, but she took a deep breath and nodded. Whether it was saving the remaining Yang energy to devour later, the creature showed little interest in Cheong — a woman. Which meant, conversely, that it was all the more likely to take a keen interest in me.

"Why are you still here? You are already dead. Unburden yourselves of your grudges and leave this world."

I muttered this as I stepped forward with my sword, and the water ghost twisted its face toward me at a grotesque angle.

Crack.

Another merchant's neck snapped, and he died. Even against a powerful ghost, even with people under its thrall, death should not have come so easily. In this Joseon era, most families and households had guardian spirits attached to them, and the faith surrounding such protections was highly developed. They should have been shielded by that energy... and yet their necks snapped as if it were nothing. Which meant the water ghost's power surpassed that of their guardian spirits.

...I hope she smashes those jars as fast as she can.

The multitude of hands and the hair draped over it made the creature's form all the more grotesque. A shaman would have tried to honor the souls of those who had become water ghosts... but they were so thoroughly mingled now that commemorating each one was impossible. So I would have to take a shortcut.

Creeeak. Creeeak.

"Cursing the living will bring you nothing. It will only pile karma upon you. So stop here, and go."

But of course it would not listen, and I quickly vacated the spot where I'd been standing.

KRAAANG!

"Even the ship is starting to be affected."

Rotting, waterlogged timber began appearing throughout a ship that had been perfectly sound only moments ago. If this continued, the entire vessel might be wrapped in the creature's hair and dragged under. And if that happened... Cheong and I would likely be absorbed as members of the ghost itself.

Then, from below, came the sound of something shattering. At the same moment Cheong came running up, her face flushed red, clutching a jar. I drank as much as I could, smashed the rest on the deck, and spoke to the creature.

Clang!

I raised both swords and brought them down with all my strength against the oil-soaked deck. The two blades struck together, throwing off a tiny spark — and that spark became a roaring flame that leapt across the ship in an instant.

Creeeeeeeak.

Unlike water, fire is Yang energy itself. The blaze spread in a heartbeat, searing the water ghost's hair and hands. Of course, it was not without its problems. Cheong and I could be caught in the flames as well — and so could the remaining humans still under the ghost's thrall.

So I rummaged through my sleeve. From the pouch that appeared within, I drew something out.