The Imugi's Final Molting
html, body { margin:0; padding:0; }
Cultivator: Jongchil22
Some are born as snakes. Some as tigers, others as humans. No being can choose its own birth. That's why birth is as impartial as death.
Cheonhwa was born an imugi. She simply came into the world that way—no reason to question it. That was her nature from the start.
An imugi exists to become a dragon. Thus, Cheonhwa strove for it. For an imugi to pursue dragonhood is as natural as a flower blooming in spring or a tree bearing fruit in autumn.
Becoming a dragon demands eons of cultivation. So Cheonhwa cultivated. For a full millennium.
The first thousand years ended in failure. When she forged her yeouiju, she thought she'd ascended. But an imugi's path is never so forgiving. Humans were the problem.
During cultivation, an imugi must never catch a human's eye—specifically, must never be called a "snake." Why that taboo defies easy logic, but it's the iron rule of ascension.
Unfair as it seemed, if the world's will decreed it, she had no choice. So she secluded herself deep in a cave, hidden from all.
Yet humans always found her. Not by intent, but by stumbling lost into her lair.
The first time a human encountered her, crying "Snake!" doomed her to another millennium. That human shattered her efforts. Cheonhwa pulverized him utterly, then cultivated anew for a thousand years.
Her second ascension failed too. Humans again. This time, she wove illusions to evade detection—but that backfired spectacularly.
A human pierced her spells, assuming treasure or fortune lay hidden, and invaded her cave. He timed it perfectly, when her focus on ascension left her vulnerable. Cheonhwa wasted another millennium. The human got death instead of riches.
This would be her last shot. An imugi's lifespan is vast, but finite. Fail now, and she'd perish in under a century.
No retries. Succeed, and she'd gain a new lifespan—a wholly reborn body.
Convinced it was do-or-die, Cheonhwa cultivated another thousand years.
Legends say if a human spots an imugi and cries "Dragon!" it grants power for ascension. So she believed she'd finally triumphed. Yet her body remained earthbound.
"That legend holds not one shred of falsehood, right!?"
Cheonhwa's vertically slit reptilian eyes fixed on Jongchil. He met her murderous gaze with calm composure, nodding. His demeanor radiated uncanny confidence.
"Of course. Why would I spout lies in a place like this?"
"Then speak! How do I become a dragon!?"
At her command, Jongchil nodded and replied.
"Three conditions for dragonhood. First: the yeouiju forged from a millennium's cultivation."
"I know that. Look here! I've got yeouiju—three of them, no less!"
Cheonhwa twisted her massive frame. The house-sized serpent's motion set the cave rumbling like thunder.
Jin Samwol, riding piggyback on Jongchil, yelped in alarm. But Jongchil coolly glanced down at the orbs nestled beneath Cheonhwa's belly.
Each yeouiju was a pristine white sphere, watermelon-sized. Inside the flawless shells swirled prismatic lights, alive and dancing.
Jin Samwol gasped at the sight. As Black Rock Taoist's disciple, she'd seen her share of奇珍異寶, but never a yeouiju. Even her master likely hadn't beheld one in the flesh.
That's a yeouiju? Master said it holds power to defy heaven's mandate.
Jongchil pointed at each orb in turn.
"Second condition: discard all but one."
"W-what!?"
Cheonhwa's roar threatened to collapse the cave. Jongchil and Jin Samwol, now accustomed to her sonic blasts, clamped hands over their ears.
"What nonsense is this!? Throw away the yeouiju I forged through a thousand years of torment!? You scheming wretch—trying to steal them! No wonder I distrust humans! They're the root of all my suffering!"
Her voice lashed like a gale of blades. Jin Samwol paled, shielding Jongchil's ear. But he stood firm.
"No. It's absolute truth."
"Silence, you cur!"
Cheonhwa bore down on him. Her voice carried the weight of millennia, her razor-slit eyes promising death.
Had they been mere mortals, that killing intent alone would have slain them. Even as seasoned cultivators, facing it head-on strained them. Jongchil grimaced through the pain and pressed on.
"Lady Cheonhwa, trust me just once."
"Trust a human I met today? On what grounds!?"
"I'll stake my life on it."
Gently, he set Jin Samwol down from his back. Then strode boldly toward Cheonhwa. Her eyes narrowed at his audacity.
She knew humans well. Three millennia in seclusion didn't blind her to their world.
Her cultivated heavenly sight let her peer into human realms; her wind-listening ears caught whispers on the breeze.
One truth she'd gleaned: humans cherish their own lives above all. They'd slaughter kin without remorse, yet flinch at their own demise. Every human she'd observed acted thus.
"Stake your life!?"
"Yes. Lady Cheonhwa, three yeouiju mean three millennia cultivated. This is your final chance for ascension."
"You're right."
Cheonhwa affirmed it.
"Failure means the end anyway. Believing me costs nothing—worst case, no loss."
"That's..."
She had no retort. Jongchil spoke truth: one last shot remained. Fail, and oblivion.
"If I lie, pay any price—even my life. So please, Lady Cheonhwa, trust my words."
"Hmmm..."
She wavered. All her woes stemmed from humans. Trusting one felt absurd.
But as he says, failure here ends it anyway.
This human wagered his life. Rare among them.
Following him risked nothing. Lies meant swift death—and no human escapes a three-millennia imugi.
Long deliberation, but she chose.
"Mock me, and you won't die easy."
"Understood. Thank you for heeding this lowly human."
"Fine. Discard two yeouiju. Done."
She hurled two toward Jongchil. He ignored them utterly.
Cheonhwa had planned to slay him at the first greedy glance or touch. Astonishingly, he spared them not a look.
Yeouiju! Yeouiju! Fucking yeouiju! Gotta be insane items—SSS-grade for sure!?
Not from nobility, of course. Pure self-restraint. To quell his greed, Jongchil pictured Jin Samwol nude.
Hold it together. Wait till she ascends. It's mine anyway!
"Done as you said—two discarded. Now what?"
"One final condition: molt your shell."
"Molt... my shell?"
"Yes. Dragon ascension means shedding the old body. Cast off your earthly form, embrace the new, and you'll rule the heavens, Lady Cheonhwa."
"Hmmm... Molting. Never done it since birth."
Unlike snakes that shed periodically, an imugi never molts before dragonhood. Conversely, molting marks the serpent-to-dragon rite.
"You sense how instinctively. Yes... molt. I'll try."
With that, Cheonhwa coiled tighter, forming a colossal pupal loop like a hibernating serpent. Suddenly, vast qi surged around her core.
"Young Hero Jong... this is..."
Jin Samwol swallowed hard, staring. The spectacle unfolding defied lifetime experience or lore. Nature's qi swirled around one axis, birthing a tempest.
"So this is an imugi?"
Qi beyond imagination warped space itself—an illusion of reality twisting. Ripples from Cheonhwa flooded outward, shaking the entire cave.
Rumble rumble rumble!
"Y-young Hero Jong! This feels dangerous—"
"Lady Jin!"
Jongchil lunged toward her. Cracks spiderwebbed from floor to walls and ceiling. Dust billowed, stalactites plummeted. He shoved Jin Samwol beneath him.
"Y-young Hero Jong!"
"Lady Jin! Protect your head!"
He shielded her with his body. He could have used skills to deflect debris effortlessly, but this painted a heroic picture. Even now, Jongchil schemed to score points with her.
Hummmm!
The qi vortex intensified. Jin Samwol screamed, scanning wildly.
"Ah! The entrance!"
A massive boulder sealed their entry tunnel. Cracks fissured the glowing orbs overhead. Shattered, they plunged the cave into darkness.
"Nngh!"
Jin Samwol squeezed her eyes shut. Guilt stabbed her—Jongchil shielding her fully—but she was powerless. Even her prized Taoist arts faltered amid this qi frenzy.
Praying for the crisis to pass, she endured. The cavern's thunderous roar finally ebbed after two keum (quarters of an hour).
"...Is it over?"
Jongchil rose from atop her protective huddle. Dust puffed from his back. Without glow orbs, pitch black reigned.
Light Control.
He conjured light. Warm radiance bathed the cave.
Vast qi still emanated from Cheonhwa, but stabilized. Her coiled shell lay motionless like a dormant serpent. Yet Jin Samwol sensed the desperate battle within—molting underway.
"This... the path to dragonhood?"
Awe hushed her. She'd never dreamed of witnessing an imugi, let alone its transformation.
"Ah! But our exit...?"
She eyed the blocked passage. Thick rock barred the way. Her face drained of color.
"No way."
Trapped in the cave, the two realized.