Day 23: A Meteor Is Not Magic
The villains who had seized the arena numbered seven in total.
The hostages they held—fans who had come to watch the tournament in person—numbered exactly nine hundred and eighty-two.
And among those hostages, as one might expect, was Cheon Seo-ah herself.
“Haaah—”
Cheon Seo-ah let out a rare, deep sigh.
For the first time in a long while, she felt that emotion called irritation.
“I’m feeling it.”
She murmured the words like a whisper—and somewhere along the way, her speech had changed.
Always, even when talking to herself, she had used polite formal speech. For the first time, Cheon Seo-ah did not.
And though her voice was soft enough that even someone standing right beside her might not have heard it, every person in the arena felt a sudden, causeless chill and shuddered.
Meanwhile, the villains who had taken the venue kept shouting threats at the hostages.
“If our demands aren’t met, we kill ten hostages every five minutes!”
The man who appeared to lead the seven villains—looking no stronger than Class 7 at best—was communicating with the outside world through the cameras installed in the arena.
Their demand was simple enough.
Release their boss, currently locked up in prison.
Of course, that prison was not Tartaros, the place Cheon Seo-ah had once experienced. A villain whom a pack of Class 7 to Class 9 thugs called “boss” would never have been locked up in the most infamous prison of all.
So while the Class 7 villain kept shouting into the cameras, the remaining six fanned out among the hostages.
They raked the crowd with sharp eyes, every glance carrying the same threat: Try anything funny and you die.
Of course—
“This is seriously pissing me off.”
—Cheon Seo-ah paid their threats no mind at all. She simply let the irritation she felt spill out into the open.
“Didn’t you hear me tell you to keep your head down?”
One of the villains barked at her.
Nearly a thousand hostages had all bowed their heads. Only Cheon Seo-ah had not. Not only had she refused to lower her head—she was staring straight at them with eyes thick with irritation.
A short-tempered villain twisted his face into a snarl and stormed up to stand in front of her.
“Listen, kid. Lower your head while I’m still being nice. Cooperate and we’ll let you walk out of here without a scratch.”
Crackle—
Crack-crack—
He rolled the bones through his whole body, producing grotesque noises meant to terrify. Cheon Seo-ah looked at him with eyes full of pure annoyance and said,
“Earth really is peaceful, huh. Every last worthless bug crawls out of the dirt and starts running its mouth.”
If the nine villains of the Illuminati had seen her like this, they would not have known what to do with themselves. The Cheon Seo-ah standing here was nothing like the master they knew.
Whether that attitude had simply scraped the villain’s nerves raw—
“You little shit of a brat—!”
Whoosh—!
—he finally lost control and threw a punch.
A heavy sound tore the air as his fist drove toward Cheon Seo-ah’s face. The closer it came, the more it swelled, ballooning into something monstrous.
But—
“Bugs should crawl on the floor like the bugs they are.”
Tap—
One step. That was all it took to slip past the punch. Then she lightly tapped both of the villain’s legs.
Pop!
Both legs burst apart. The man hit the floor without legs and screamed, a raw, hideous sound.
“Gyaaaaaah! M-my legs! My legs!”
What? What just happened?
What the hell is that kid?
A hero? Is she a hero?
No—she’s not a hero!
The villains scattered around the arena shouted in panic. Moments earlier they had been snickering as their comrade swung on her. What actually happened blew every expectation they had to pieces. They never even saw how she moved. In the span of a single blink, the man who had thrown the punch was the one screaming with both legs gone.
Meanwhile, the leader—the only Class 7 ability user among them—who had been shouting into the cameras for his boss to be released, stared at Cheon Seo-ah with trembling eyes.
Th-this isn’t what I was told!
He was only Class 7. The underlings he had dragged along were mostly scrap around Class 9—barely even worth calling ability users. So how had he managed to seize this place at all?
This was the venue for a Valorant tournament about to begin. Dozens of security guards had been stationed for just such an emergency, and among them was even a Class 6 ability user hired by the organizers at considerable expense. At the lower ranks the gaps between classes meant less—but even so, a wall still stood between Class 6 and Class 7. Add the dozens of guards, and what this Class 7 villain had pulled off would have been impossible without help from someone—or some organization.
Which was why Cheon Seo-ah said,
“Talk.”
“Y-yes? T-talk about what…?”
In the space of a blink she was standing in front of him, speaking in a voice like ice. His dull eyes shook wildly.
“A bug like you didn’t cook this up alone. Who was it? Who the hell dared pull a stunt like this?”
“Th-that’s… I mean…”
Even under her vicious questioning, the villain could not open his mouth. He was afraid of the girl in front of him—that much was true. But he was more afraid of the ones who had made this whole operation possible.
That fear kept his lips sealed.
“Fine. Don’t talk if you don’t want to. Either way…”
Pop—!
Cheon Seo-ah flicked her fingers lightly. The villain’s head burst into pieces.
And not only his.
Among the hostages, every remaining villain who had been staring at her with trembling eyes suffered the same fate—heads exploding one after another.
Thud. Thud.
Headless bodies crumpled. Hostages beside them screamed. Screams, pleas for mercy, sobs that clawed at the nerves—they rose from every direction.
All of it grated on Cheon Seo-ah. She spoke in a voice gone utterly cold.
“Shut up.”
Shudder—!
One sentence. The instant she delivered those two words in that freezing voice, every screaming hostage’s mouth snapped shut at once.
Satisfying silence settled over the arena. Cheon Seo-ah looked up at the ceiling.
“How about you come on out now?”
No one answered her warning. No one appeared.
Cheon Seo-ah smiled. A smile of pure, untainted innocence—beautiful beyond measure. Behind it, a vast malice she made no effort to hide rolled and seethed.
“If you won’t come out, then just die.”
Swoosh—
She gestured toward the ceiling. An invisible wave of force answered the motion and shot upward. Just as that merciless surge was about to crush the ceiling—
Slash—!
—a single sword burst from empty air and cut the wave apart.
Three figures appeared at once—two men and a woman.
“Tch. How’d you notice us?”
The three landed lightly on the floor. The swordsman among them, still holding the blade that had severed her attack, clicked his tongue.
Their concealment had been perfect. Even a Class 1 ability user shouldn’t have sensed them. How had this kid seen through it?
No—that wasn’t what mattered.
What mattered was this:
“Kid, you should’ve just kept quiet. Now you’re gonna die showing off for no reason.”
The only woman of the three—dressed in clothes so vulgar they bordered on crude, her makeup laid on far too thick—smiled sweetly as she spoke.
“Anyway, is Chilgeomje even actually showing up here?”
“The intel’s solid. Before the tournament started, Chilgeomje secured one VVIP ticket under his own name.”
“Ha. For fuck’s sake. Open your eyes and look around. There’s no Chilgeomje—just a bunch of insects.”
As the two men talked, Cheon Seo-ah understood why they had used disposable villains to hit the arena.
This was entirely—
Because of me, huh?
She clicked her tongue. Apparently asking Chilgeomje to get her a ticket had created this mess.
Still—
“Why are you people going after that poor kid?”
“Huh? What’s that brat babbling about?”
“That poor kid? Poor? Who? Chilgeomje? For fuck’s sake, say something that makes sense if you want an answer.”
The two men snickered at her question.
So they had no intention of answering. Fine. She hadn’t particularly—
“I didn’t ask because I wanted an answer.”
Flinch—!
When had she moved? She was suddenly right in front of them, speaking, and all three jolted.
Their manner might have been light and crude, but not once had they taken their eyes off her. After all, the strength she had shown wiping out seven villains at a glance put her at least at Class 4—and a telekinetic of considerable power at that.
Cheon Seo-ah pointed at the three as they scrambled to put distance between them.
The space containing Cheon Seo-ah and the three she indicated peeled away from reality.
Crack—!
Four spaces in total—hers and theirs—separated from the world. The three men’s and woman’s eyes flew wide in shock.
“Just a little. Slip over just a little, Daematcheon.”
Her eerie voice slid into their ears.
And in the same instant, the scenery around them changed completely.
A barren wasteland stretched without end—not a single blade of grass. Overhead hung a black sun and black clouds beneath a black sky. From those black clouds, black lightning crashed down without rest.
“An illusion?”
“Calling it an illusion is rude.”
Flinch—!
The man who had muttered without thinking—the swordsman who had cut her wave of force—found Cheon Seo-ah smiling sweetly at him.
Then—
“You’ve learned cultivation arts, haven’t you.”
Flinch—
She had already put distance between them again. The moment the word cultivation arts left her mouth, all three bodies jerked.
“Your realm… you’ve trained pretty hard, huh? On a planet with barely a scrap of spiritual energy, reaching the ninth layer of Qi Condensation is something.”
…!
Their eyes went wide as they could go. Not only had she seen through the fact that they practiced cultivation arts—she had read their exact realm at a glance. That meant only one thing. The girl in front of them practiced cultivation arts just as they did, and her realm surpassed the Qi Condensation they had achieved.
Surely not—
Foundation Establishment?
Impossible!
There’s no way she’s reached Foundation Establishment at that age!
The three exchanged glances, speaking without words.
“Come to think of it, last time I ran into someone who practiced the Body-Tempering Art of the Radiant Dragon Gate.”
The Radiant Dragon Gate.
Could it be…!
“The person you mentioned who practiced the Radiant Dragon Gate’s Body-Tempering Art—do you mean the Radiant Dragon Cultivator?”
“Radiant Dragon Cultivator?”
Cheon Seo-ah tilted her head at the swordsman’s question. If the person they called that was the woman Chilgeomje had once carved into pieces and killed—
“Probably?”
What? Wasn’t the Radiant Dragon Cultivator eliminated by Chilgeomje?
Maybe this girl is Chilgeomje’s disciple.
Or maybe she was sent by Chilgeomje…!
“So where did you people get the cultivation arts you learned? There’s no reason for cultivation arts to exist on Earth.”
“You’re one to talk—you got taught Demonic Cultivation Arts by Chilgeomje yourself.”
“Hmm.”
At the woman’s sharp retort, Cheon Seo-ah showed a chilling smile.
So they knew. More precisely—the organization behind them knew. They knew that Chilgeomje, and those poor children who had built that little group called the Illuminati, practiced Demonic Cultivation Arts.
Furthermore—
“So it wasn’t just the arts that leaked through. Actual cultivators came over to Earth openly.”
Then what realm had those cultivators reached? To force their way through the pressure of dimensional walls and reach Earth, they must have at least attained Earth Immortal—or perhaps Heaven Immortal? Could they have gone past Taiyi Stage or Daluo Stage, all the way to the Ancestral Dao Stage like herself?
Ahh. How curious.
A gleam of pure delight had already kindled in Cheon Seo-ah’s eyes.
She was so happy.
So happy she could go mad from it.
For the past several tens of thousands of years, after all—
“I haven’t gotten to eat a proper immortal.”
Shudder—!
She wiped the drool from the corner of her mouth as she spoke. Terror crawled up the three cultivators’ spines and made them tremble.
Hadn’t gotten to eat? Eat what? What was she saying she hadn’t eaten?
They could not understand her words. No—they did not want to understand them.
Right now, all that mattered was—
“This place has to be a space made by a formation! We’re getting out of here first!”
The swordsman shouted and swung his blade at Cheon Seo-ah. A single cut produced five slashing arcs that poured toward her.
“You’re a triple spiritual root, aren’t you? The roots you hold are… fire, water, and lightning? Those are fairly rare roots to have.”
Flinch—!
Seeing her pierce his nature as a triple-root cultivator in a single glance, the swordsman clenched his teeth hard. This girl was dangerous. He had to get out of here immediately and report to them.
He was not the only one who made that decision.
“Die—!”
“Drop dead!”
As the swordsman swung, the other man and the woman attacked as well. The woman scattered talismans drawn from her cleavage; the slips ignited and became blades of sharp wind racing toward Cheon Seo-ah. At the same time, the remaining man thrust a spear charged with water spiritual energy straight at her heart.
“The rest of you are useless. One five-root, one four-root—you’re not even worth using as materials. Ah, and one more thing.”
She took the three cultivators’ concentrated assault as if it were nothing, then frowned as if the whole thing displeased her.
“This place is not some illusion spun by a cheap formation. This place is—”
the new heaven I created. Daematcheon.
Having said so, Cheon Seo-ah suddenly clenched her fist on empty air.
Rrrrumble—
She pulled on the space she had seized, and the world shuddered.
“You’ve got to be kidding…!”
The three cultivators looked up and muttered.
Through the black clouds drifting across the black sky, a colossal meteor came falling.
Just what was this girl? What vile, horrific Demonic Cultivation Art had she learned, and through what vile, horrific training had she amassed power like this?
The moment they confirmed the meteor was falling, the three cultivators abandoned all further resistance. The girl before them had never been an existence they could handle.
Cheon Seo-ah smiled sweetly at the three who had completely let go of their will to live.
“Come to think of it, some communities used to argue over this. Is a meteor illegal? Is it an earth-type spell? Or is it summoning magic? I’ll tell you exactly. A meteor isn’t magic of any kind. A meteor is—”
a cultivation art.
And then—
“I let that other person’s soul go last time. But now that I know cultivators exist here as well, I’ll make good use of all of your souls. I’m sure I can pull some useful information from them.”
At some point her speech had returned to polite formal language.
And high above, the enormous meteor falling from the empty sky swallowed the three cultivators whole.