The Wind Bird of Chiak Mountain
In the past.
The 17th floor of the Tower of Despair.
Even Hyun Si-woon had been taken aback when he found the intertwined tree sitting alone in the heart of the Whirlwind Blade Canyon.
Yes—just as Ha-wol had said, it was a spirit tree. Cut it down and you could craft a weapon of considerable worth.
But still. Didn’t it feel wrong?
For a mere intertwined tree, why was the wind this fierce?
The Tower of Despair Si-woon knew was not that kind of game. Every phenomenon had a reason. Every object hid a meaning. Even a crack between rocks you might walk past without a second thought, or a mural that looked like pure decoration, could conceal the developer’s malice—or a stroke of fortune.
Then it hit him.
The wind spirits.
Back then, just like now, spirits had been laughing and dancing through the storm. Most players would have dismissed them as background effects and moved on.
But EndSeeker was different.
Should I try copying them?
Of course you couldn’t make a character dance like a fairy while you played. The game had freedom, but not that much freedom.
So then?
There has to be another way to interact.
Si-woon stepped back into the gale. He settled into position and watched the spirits for hours, analyzing their patterns, hunting for rules.
Then—
There!
He locked onto several clear motions. The same little creatures that normally played and laughed would, at certain times, fall into nearly identical sequences.
Three steps forward, jump, one step back, sit…?
EndSeeker cracked his fingers over the keyboard.
W, W, W, Space, S, Ctrl…
He began inputting the spirits’ movements by pure instinct. At first it was a mess. The motions were too fast, too intricate; he kept losing the order. Even when he was certain he had matched them perfectly, the tree did nothing.
A dead end?
Well. Lately he had been uncovering strokes of fortune through methods so absurd that maybe he had simply gotten greedy and expected another one.
Just cut it down and go.
He drew his sword with a soft rasp. A familiar interaction icon floated into view.
[Slash]
The moment he pressed that icon and swung, this mysterious intertwined tree would become nothing more than a rare crafting material labeled “Intertwined Spirit Tree.” Even that alone would have been an enormous stroke of luck.
Then he saw it—one tiny wind spirit beyond the monitor.
He zoomed in as far as the game would allow. The little thing was unmistakably laughing at him.
Mocking me?
That scornful little smile gave him certainty. There was more. Stubbornness flared. He locked his eyes on the spirit’s every move—and there it was. The spirit was performing the ritual again, as if sneering, Not like that, you idiot—like this!
It wasn’t enough to copy the simple steps and motions. Timing was everything.
Right.
Something was definitely there. Si-woon sheathed his sword again and began to follow the dance, fingers flying in a blur of brilliant control.
And then, after time had passed and every motion finally linked into one flawless flow—
Wooooong!
Only then did the intertwined tree respond.
Back on Chiak Mountain.
“Show you? Show you what, exactly?”
Ha-wol’s eyes narrowed.
“There’s a perfectly good tree right in front of us and you’re talking about a bird. Did that storm knock something loose in your skull, you rascal? Do you take this lady for someone who can’t tell a spirit tree from a flying beast?”
Si-woon only grinned at her scolding. He steadied his rough breathing and stepped up to the intertwined tree, ready to recreate the dance from memory—not with keyboard and mouse this time, but with his own two feet and body.
The wind spirits were here too.
Which meant?
A high chance this was the exact same stroke of fortune as before.
He moved. Three steps forward, a jump, a small step back, then a sit…
Ha-wol fell silent.
The motions themselves were grotesque. Every trace of the elegant Moon Spirit Step vanished; he lurched like a scarecrow with dislocated joints—hopping forward, wobbling backward, plopping down without warning, then flailing his arms at empty air. A string of movements no one could make sense of.
“You brat, what in the world is this bizarre nonsense?”
Even under Ha-wol’s nagging, Si-woon did not stop. If anything, the motions grew stranger. Now he spun in circles, balanced on one foot, then suddenly flattened himself face-down on the dirt.
“Hmph.”
Deep furrows carved themselves between Ha-wol’s brows. She too had climbed the Tower and become a Ranker. She had tasted countless fortunes and secret realms. But she had never seen—or even heard of—anything like this.
And beyond all that: a spirit tree could not simply stop being a spirit tree. That would violate the laws of this world.
Genuine worry began to creep in. If the disciple who held her future had gone mad…
“Stop this at once… Perhaps we should go back down first and let you rest—”
She never finished.
Si-woon’s final motion. He landed from the jump—
Thud!
And the tree answered as if it had been waiting for that exact instant.
Wooooooong!
The entire tree began to radiate a dazzling blue-green light.
“……?!”
Ha-wol’s eyes flooded with shock.
What? It was real?
The two trunks that formed the intertwined tree slowly reshaped themselves. Hard bark softened into feathers. Branches that had reached for the sky unfurled into vast wings. The tangled stems lengthened into an elegant neck and tail.
Kkirurururu…!
The tree—no, the being that had worn the shape of a tree—let out a low cry, as if stirring from a long sleep.
When the light finally faded, no tree remained. In its place stood a colossal bird, its body sheathed in blue-green and jade feathers, trailing long, magnificent tail plumes. It was easily the size of a house, and a pair of small antler-like horns crowned its head.
The bird gave itself a full-body shake, as though shaking off centuries of slumber, then slowly turned its gaze toward the one who had broken its seal. Those enormous eyes met Si-woon’s in midair.
Hidden Piece, ‘Dance of the Wind Gods,’ has been recreated!
The ancient divine beast Pungjo awakens from its long slumber.
You are recognized as its Contractor.
It is bound to you as your summoned beast.
Ah—of course!
This Pungjo was still young, but the more monsters it consumed, the stronger it became. As a mount it was also outstanding, making everything after the 17th floor considerably easier.
Even grander than I expected.
Si-woon smiled and gently stroked the massive bird’s feathers. Meeting face-to-face a being he had only ever seen through a monitor felt entirely new.
And—
“Th-th-this…!”
Ha-wol’s mouth hung open so wide her jaw looked ready to unhinge.
“This is absurd…!”
Her spirit form trembled. As a former Ranker she could sense it at once: the aura rolling off that giant bird was not something a mere spirit creature could possess.
This was a divine object.
“A divine beast…? It was a divine beast?”
The difference in rank between a spirit creature and a divine beast was absolute. Spirit creatures hid as fortunes all over the Tower, but divine beasts were treated as legend even among Rankers—beings born carrying the fundamental powers of the world. This one was still only a juvenile, yet the magnitude of power sleeping inside it was something even Ha-wol could not begin to measure.
“You… what in the world are you…?”
What was this man’s true nature? He had found her after she had been exiled to an impossible place, he came back from death, and now he could even call forth an ancient divine beast?
“How did you even know? Seeing a divine beast appear, that must have been a contract rite of the Wind God Tribe that existed only in ancient times…”
“I just summoned one on the 17th floor once.”
Silence.
Ha-wol could find no words. She had seen countless Rankers, but she could state with absolute certainty she had never seen anyone like this.
Moreover—
“The 17th floor? You’re telling me there was an intertwined tree like this there?”
“If you look carefully there’s a cave that leads into Whirlwind Blade Canyon. Finding that cave was a job in itself, though.”
Si-woon explained it lightly, but to Ha-wol it might as well have been alien gibberish. In martial arts she was the master; in games, she could not approach Si-woon’s realm.
In any case—
Kkirurururu!
When Pungjo cried out again, something miraculous happened. The hellish storm that had been tearing the mountain apart began to subside like a tamed flock of sheep. Winds that had cut like blades softened into gentle breezes; the ear-splitting roar faded into peaceful whispers.
“Hah…”
Ha-wol stared, lost. The scattered fragments in her mind were finally fitting into a single picture.
“So that was it. Of course.”
“What was?”
“The reason no monsters live in this domain—and why there wasn’t a single trace of other Rankers.”
“……?”
“A divine beast of this caliber would radiate its presence in every direction even while asleep. The Rankers must have mistaken it for another powerful Ranker already claiming the territory.”
“……Oh.”
That made perfect sense. Even among Rankers there would be unspoken contests over domains.
“So I should hold off on taking this one to Seoul for now?”
“Probably wise. A young divine beast makes easy prey for High Rankers.”
Then what? Leave it here until it grew?
No—there was that blue light. He should at least take it as far as Taebaek Mountain. Most Rankers would be camping near the Tower with the Climbers anyway.
“Pungjo.”
Kkiruk!
At Si-woon’s call the bird lowered itself and laid its head at his feet. Without hesitation he stepped onto its neck and climbed onto the broad back.
“Let’s go meet the others.”
Kkiruuuuu!
The moment the words left his mouth, Pungjo beat its wings with tremendous force.
Fwoooosh!
The pressure of those vast wings shoved the air aside and sent nearby pebbles skittering. In an instant the bird launched from the ground and soared, painting a blue trail across the sky.
The world spread out beneath his feet. A faint wave of vertigo hit him, but he would have to get used to this.
And—
“Huh…?”
The party members who had been staring around in confusion at the suddenly stilled wind. Kang Si-a spotted the bird first.
“Look over there!”
“……A m-monster?”
“Monster! Battle stations!”
Hwang Dae-un and Baek Yeon-ho reflexively drew their weapons—then their eyes flew wide with shock. Because seated calmly on the back of that colossal bird was a silhouette they knew all too well.
Thump!
Pungjo landed softly; the breeze of its descent ruffled everyone’s hair. They stood with mouths hanging open, staring blankly at the impossible sight.
“H-Hyeong-nim?”
Hwang Dae-un murmured.
“What on earth is going on?”