Valley of Ghost Clouds, Part 3
Dang Sobaek immediately pursued Jim-il.
Spreading his wings wide, he soared vertically. As they broke free of the Valley of Ghost Clouds, the gloomy shadows parted, revealing the warm sunlight.
Beneath a cloudless sky, his gaze locked with Jim-il's.
The atmosphere was entirely different from before.
Sleek, ink-black feathers.
A physique as large as a wild boar.
It was a stark contrast to Dang Sobaek, whose physical growth had remained largely stunted.
Grumbling inwardly with dissatisfaction, Sobaek calmly observed Jim-il.
He doesn't seem completely mad.
At the very least, some reason remained. He hadn't immediately lunged at Sobaek.
Ghost-beasts were incapable of distinguishing friend from foe. They spewed hatred toward the entire world, treating everything they encountered as an enemy. Naturally, their survival instincts were entirely erased.
Snatching only the spirit fruit and fleeing was not the behavior of a typical ghost-beast.
Whether it was because a Jimjo was a spiritual beast, because he hadn't been completely consumed by the ghost qi, or because he had stumbled upon some fortuitous encounter, there was no way to know.
Just what has happened to him in the meantime?
That was something he could find out slowly from here on.
Sobaek attempted to speak to Jim-il.
Though, at best, it was merely simple communication—greetings, saying it had been a long time.
Jim-il did not answer.
He didn't chirp noisily like Jim-i, nor was he aloof like Jim-sam.
Instead, he glared at Sobaek.
Does he think I'm after his prize?
Or does he not recognize me?
Or has he deemed me an enemy altogether?
The answer came without much delay.
Shhhk! Shhhk!
For Jim-il unleashed a volley of feathers toward Sobaek.
It was unmistakable hostility.
"...Grrr."
The eyes that had seemed normal were instantly painted a stark white. His pupils vanished, and ink-colored demonic qi began to billow.
This is bad.
He didn't know why Jim-il had suddenly lost his reason, but subduing him had to come first.
Jim-il's beak slowly parted.
His throat convulsed.
In a manner Sobaek had not anticipated,
Ssssshh—
Poisonous fluid sprayed forth.
Sobaek hurriedly twisted his body, banking counterclockwise. He couldn't dodge it entirely. The feathers that came into contact with the fluid melted with a sharp hiss.
Has deadly poison fused with ghost qi?
It was a truly terrifying poison.
Not simply because of its lethal potency.
The moment it touched him,
the ghost qi greedily invaded Sobaek's body, spreading rapidly.
There is no need to hold back.
If he went easy, he would be the one defeated.
This was also for Jim-il's sake.
Since he wasn't completely consumed by the ghost qi but merely suffered periodic fits, it was better to firmly imprint a sense of overwhelming power upon him.
To draw out the primal instinct of fear through raw force.
Indeed, this was a method frequently employed back in the Central Plains.
Whenever disciples of the Ghost Dao Sect were captured, they would throw fits like this,
and every time, violence served as an excellent means of communication to settle the matter.
Well, it wasn't a foolproof method.
Since many of them couldn't endure it and died.
It was a highly irresponsible "if it works, great; if not, whatever" approach, but,
I don't need to be that considerate.
Had this fellow not bared his fangs at him?
Even this much was a massive concession on Sobaek's part. After all, they were siblings born from the same nest.
Sobaek circulated his Mandok-gwigong to suppress the ghost qi trying to seep into his body, and,
Whirrrr—
prepared a technique.
Chapter of the Shadowless Soul-Chaser
First Form: Night Cry
The most fundamental form among them was fired with fierce, crushing power.
Boom-boom-boom-boom!
Jim-il hurriedly wrapped his wings around his body to block the feathers. His frame shook violently.
Yet, he did not allow a single fatal blow.
As the number of feathers striking his body gradually dwindled,
Swoosh!
Jim-il spread his wings wide and charged straight at Sobaek. It was a strike akin to mutual destruction.
Not a bad decision.
Speed. Mass.
Excluding martial technique, Sobaek had no advantage over Jim-il. Jim-il had realized this and was attempting to settle the fight using his physical superiority.
However,
Seventh Form: Whirling Dagger
One of the feathers that had flown past Jim-il traced a graceful arc and plunged backward.
Belatedly, Jim-il looked back and tried to dodge, but,
Thack! Thack!
Two feathers he failed to avoid embedded themselves deep into his back.
"Kyaaaak!"
A raw shriek tore from his throat.
For Sobaek had laced them with a poison that maximized pain, alongside an energy-dispersing poison.
Still, he endures remarkably well.
Jim-il did not collapse immediately.
Blood vessels burst in his white-filled eyes, and even as he screamed, he shook his head violently.
But the more violently one moved,
the more easily poison spread through the bloodstream.
As his demonic qi was scattered by the energy-dispersing poison and the pain-amplifying toxin fully permeated his entire body—
"...Pyaaaa..."
He finally lost consciousness and plummeted toward the ground.
There was no need to kill him.
Simply having the monkeys tie him to a tree would keep him reasonably secure.
Furthermore, the sorrowful cry he heard at the very end was unmistakably Jim-il's true voice.
It meant he had regained some semblance of sanity.
Dang Sobaek moved swiftly to catch Jim-il.
Even while falling, Jim-il kept the spirit fruit tightly clutched in his talons.
Is it greed? Or does he absolutely need this spirit fruit?
There was no way to know.
Thus, he would have to find out from here on.
* * *
Within his fading consciousness, Jim-il recalled the past.
Immediately after first hatching from his egg.
He had felt that he was inherently different from his other siblings.
He grew the fastest,
was the most talented,
and was the strongest.
Everyone naturally followed him.
He was always the leader of the pack.
Around that time, he thought:
I was born with the destiny to become the "king" of this pack.
The only one who ever concerned him was Jim-sam.
Their talents were similar, but that fellow fundamentally lacked ambition. He was detached from everything, appearing completely indifferent to the world.
Living in Mother Jimjo's nest, Jim-il witnessed many things.
He saw those who died of poisoning, and those who were wounded while hunting, only for the wounds to fester and kill them.
Survival of the fittest.
Living in the nest, he realized that only the strong survived—that was the law of this world.
While life in Mother Jimjo's nest was generally happy,
Peep!
there was one thing he disliked.
Dang Sobaek.
He was a truly pathetic creature. It was a miracle he had even survived.
His body was small, and he didn't know how to fight. As if he were somewhat lacking, he didn't even know how to shoot feathers, and his flight was clumsy.
So he often had Jim-i bully him. Back then, the thought that this was wrong never even crossed his mind.
As the strong.
And as the king of the pack, he considered it his natural right.
Yet, after the hunting training, the situation changed.
The fellow who had clearly been nothing special was suddenly shooting feathers faster and more accurately than anyone else, and manipulating poison with the greatest ease.
Whatever he had done, even the properties of his poison changed every time. Though his size remained small, he was no longer someone to be ignored.
It was a truly incomprehensible talent.
Dang Sobaek always performed with overwhelming skill.
He did not shrink even before a viper whose mere presence exuded intimidation, nor did his fighting spirit waver when facing a scorpion clad in iron armor that a beak couldn't pierce.
Furthermore, at some point, Jim-i stopped following him, and even Jim-sam, who seemed indifferent to everything, stayed by Sobaek's side.
Mother Jimjo's nest was no longer a happy place.
As a little more time passed, Jim-il became an outcast.
He was resentful.
At first, he believed he was multi-talented and that the world revolved around him.
But he was wrong.
It was an illusion.
He couldn't fly as fast and nimbly as Jim-i, nor did he possess a sturdy body like Jim-sam.
Everything about him was ordinary.
He had nothing special.
What was the reason?
Why had Dang Sobaek suddenly changed?
Thus, he observed the fellow intently.
While everyone else slept, Sobaek shot feathers alone and occasionally slipped outside to fly.
Watching this, Jim-il awakened to the concept of "practice." He began to mimic Sobaek. He felt that if he didn't, he would be left behind.
He strove to shoot feathers accurately, and to wield stronger poison, he forced himself to swallow foul-tasting herbs every night.
Yet, he still could not surpass him. The gap between him and Sobaek was so vast it seemed impossible to close.
Time passed, and the time came for him to become independent.
The first place Jim-il settled was a small lake to the east of the Jimjo territory.
It was a peaceful land where two-headed dragonflies fluttered and turtles carrying lotuses on their backs floated upon the water.
There were no demonic beasts that posed a threat.
There, he hunted beasts imbued with demonic qi and ate poisonous insects daily, growing his strength.
It was a luxury he had never enjoyed while in Mother Jimjo's nest.
Here, there was no Sobaek to compete with, nor did Jim-i or Jim-sam exist. There was no need to compare himself to others and grow depressed.
Jim-il thought that living like this wasn't bad.
But one day,
Gurgle—gurgle!
An uninvited guest arrived.
It was a bird with a large beak and long legs.
The moment it spotted him, it lunged. It had come to claim his territory.
He fought with all his might, but he could not win. It was not an opponent a young, newly independent Jimjo could defeat.
The sense of self-loathing from losing once again was far greater than the loss of his territory.
Having surrendered his territory, Jim-il wandered for a time. He dozed on tree branches, slept fitfully, and searched for a place to make his nest.
Eventually, he reached a forest.
It was a place densely packed with trees. This time, he wasn't greedy. He pecked a hole in a suitable old tree and lived inside it.
When hungry, he ventured out to eat insects or small beasts.
And when night fell, he cautiously went out to practice shooting feathers.
Then, he encountered a poison-spitting lizard. It was a considerably large creature, nearly matching his own size. Its power was also formidable.
Jim-il did not run. He had realized that to grow, he had to face and fight the strong.
He utilized everything he had. He sprayed poison, bit with his beak, and clawed with his talons.
Fighting desperately to the point where his feathers were scorched by poison and his skin was blistered,
"Pyaak! Pyaaaaak!"
he ultimately defeated the beast.
From that moment on, Jim-il gained the ability to spray liquefied poison.
Living alone in the wild, he learned many things.
He realized that while "power" was the most important factor in the survival of the fittest, it was not the sole measure of "strength."
Strength encompassed far more. Fighting spirit and experience were among those things.
One day, as he spent his time steadily building his strength,
the sky flickered.
His body trembled with an immeasurable dread.
A powerful demonic beast?
It was on an entirely different level from such things.
He hid himself instinctively.
And then, he saw.
He saw the beasts with black hair on their heads sweeping across the island.
Mountains exploded, and the earth was overturned.
It was nothing short of a calamity.
Even while driven mad with fear, Jim-il headed toward where Mother Jimjo was.
This was likely a beast's instinct.
Among all the demonic beasts Jim-il had seen, none were stronger than Mother Jimjo. The same held true even for the lords ruling each region.
He believed she could protect him from those terrible beasts.
However,
"Ah... thank goodness... truly thank goodness... thank you, thank..."
there was only Mother Jimjo's fading gaze remaining.
The terrible beast tore open Mother Jimjo's abdomen and pulled out a round sphere.
Now, Jim-il also knew.
That a demonic beast could not live without that round sphere.
Even Mother Jimjo, whom he had trusted so deeply, had been hunted by those beasts.
Hiding in the bushes, Jim-il barely managed to steady his trembling body and held his breath. He knew that if he were discovered, it would be the end.
Soon, when Mother Jimjo's breath ceased entirely,
the terrible beast muttered,
"...I shall keep my promise."
and glanced briefly in the direction where Jim-il was hiding. His heart pounded furiously.
He felt as if he were about to be killed.
Yet,
when he came to his senses, the beast had vanished. It was as if he had seen a phantom.
He gasped for breath.
It's still not safe.
There was only one place those beasts did not set foot.
Though Jim-il had been too afraid to ever approach it before,
Rumble—!
to survive, he had no choice.
However, the longer he stayed there, the more frequently his mind wandered.
What had he done yesterday?
What had he been doing just moments ago?
He remembered nothing.
Such occurrences grew frequent.
Occasionally, when his sanity returned, he would find himself eating a strange peach.
The way to find out the reason was simple.
To eat the peach while he was in his right mind.
Today.
Barely suppressing his fear, he had finally managed to obtain the peach,
but another bird had pursued him.
He thought it was an enemy. But he soon realized it was Sobaek.
He had tried to stop, but,
"If you refine ten thousand souls into one and return them to the source..."
A bizarre voice echoed.
It was impossible to fully comprehend. Yet, he felt he understood its meaning.
A spark was lit in the jealousy that had always resided within Jim-il. The ghost qi flared up more violently than ever, stimulating his urge to fight.
No. That's not it.
Unless it was someone he acknowledged, no one dared command him.
Testing his strength against Sobaek was his own choice. Therefore, he believed he was not being controlled by some mysterious voice.
He threw everything he had into the clash. He poured out the techniques he had honed through real combat without reservation.
Yet,
...
He could not defeat Sobaek.
Despite growing this much, Sobaek had reached an even more distant peak.
In his fleeting moment of returning consciousness, Jim-il muttered to himself that the world was truly unfair.