Kwaaaahrrrrrr!
A surge of golden flames, roaring like angry waves. The Sammaejinhwa I’d conjured moments ago was mere child’s play. These flames are the true essence of dokkaebi sorcery.
“Now, Mr. Kim—how is it? Can you block this the same way you did before?”
Whether due to the flames themselves or something else, Seocheonseul’s long hair has turned into blazing golden fire.
No—flames spew from every pore on his head—a magnificent visage as if wearing a mask of light, heat, and gold.
When he swung the long bamboo staff in the name of the Golden Commander—SWWWWWEEEEEE!!!
Is that really the sound flames make?
The Golden Commander’s fire roared like some horrific beast, writhing and twisting until it took the form of a nine-headed Imugi, then charged straight at me.
SWWWWWEEEEEE!!!
[Phantom Step]
Shriiiing—
I stepped back several paces and stared down the onrushing flames, nine heads thrashing toward me.
Beautiful flames, shining brilliantly as if to burn my optic nerves. The formation is so dense and tight—clearly there’s no gap for the method I used before.
[Detect]
“But you just recycled the Sammaejinhwa from earlier, right?”
There—it is.
Amid flames intense enough to burn the whole mountain, I spotted the weakness I’d planted before.
‘Yes, it’s still there.’
My arcane claws—reduced to mere embers—yet unmistakably mine, remained embedded.
[Spell Overload]
[Spell Fortify: Maximize]
KWAROOMMM!
Massive energy and vibration from clashing magics.
The earth trembles, stray leaves ignite, and startled clouds scatter in wild updrafts.
And I pierced through that dizzying torrent of arcane power—
‘Got it.’
[Transmute]
[Forced Elemental Shift]
“Mr. Kim, this is—?”
“Yes. It’s back to Soil-Generates-Metal.”
Fire generates earth.
Earth generates metal.
And metal overcomes wood. Without wood, fire cannot thrive.
Blah blah blah—
Through a convoluted chain of processes, I transformed the Golden Commander’s flames—KRSSRMMM—CRRRRRRAAASH—
directly into hundreds of gold coins, raining them onto the ground.
“Turning my own flames into coins—bahahaha—what a joke!”
Seocheonseul looked momentarily startled, then laughed heartily.
“Isn’t this the Fire of the Golden Order? Born from magic that craves sparkle, it was easy to coax.”
“Bahahaha—astonishing! Even though I am the Golden Commander who wields trivial ambitions and desires of Mr. Kim!”
He sounded delighted, yet he kept the flames cloaking his body. When he swung his bamboo staff again—Shriiiing—
the staff glowed and became a splendid Diamond Staff.
“Listen, Golden Commander. Are you really going to fight?”
“Bahahaha—shall we give it a real go?”
“G-Golden Commander! Surely you jest!”
Huh Sanghyun appeared with five spectral golems.
Waving a long skeletal staff like a conductor’s baton, he blocked the path between me and Seocheonseul, bringing countless wraiths with him.
‘Huh? He brought that many?’
Three was supposedly his limit for controlled golems. Did the Dream Incense elevate his necromancy?
“Go!”
At Seocheonseul’s shout, golden magic burst forth.
KWA-RUMMMM!
Wraiths scattered under the force, and even the spectral golems lost cohesion, collapsing into fragments on the ground.
“How dare you stand before the Golden Commander!”
“Listen, Golden Commander. Are you really going to fight?”
“Bahahaha—shall we give it a real go?”
KRAAASH!
An absurd leap—golden dokkaebi charging with that Diamond Staff—
“Ahhh! Mr. Sinhwa, dodge!”
Huh Sanghyun scrambled into a defensive stance, but Seocheonseul, with a dance-like motion, flung him aside, then...
VROOOOOM—
A dizzying golden arc traced as the Diamond Staff bore down.
‘Ugh, that would kill me if it hit.’
[Suppress]
[Twisted Bond]
[Entangled Step]
But newly cast spells dampened Seocheonseul’s immense power, and their interplay warped the space itself.
TZZZZZZ—
The twisted Diamond Staff veered—not toward my head, but toward Seocheonseul’s.
“Ooops!”
Shriiiiing—
In a gravity-defying pose, Seocheonseul vaulted aside from his own staff.
No mere human could mimic such disregard for inertia and gravity.
“Bahahaha! Remarkable! Truly remarkable!”
Clap clap clap clap!
Seocheonseul laughed and applauded. After charging as if to kill, his bright composure was unblemished...
‘How odd I feel.’
Seocheonseul seemed genuinely pleased. Perhaps his joy is contagious, because I feel a satisfaction not unlike solving a humorous puzzle thrown by a friend.
“Bahahaha! Even if I fought Mr. Kim properly, I would lose.”
“Well, this is my home. If the Golden Order fought here, the Golden Commander would win.”
“How modest, Mr. Kim. Bahahaha—”
As Seocheonseul spun the Diamond Staff, it reverted into the long bamboo staff.
“Hoo—”
He exhaled cigarette smoke that coalesced like pliable clay, mingling with the spectral golem fragments on the floor, and in an instant...
Whoosh!
Seocheonseul—no, the Golden Commander—leapt onto the tangled pile of fragments.
Where he landed stood a dais that hadn’t existed moments before.
Though formed from golem shards and smoke, it shone lavishly, adorned with dozens of golden dragons.
“Bahahaha!”
Standing proudly atop the dais, the Golden Commander’s voice rang out grandly.
“The Golden Order is the realm of shining gold and the dreams of all! And I, the Golden Commander who guards that Order! I will never tolerate defeat at the hands of mere Mr. Kim!”
Now I know his intent.
“Therefore, the Golden Commander will not attack Kim Sinhwa! This is the declaration of the Golden Commander in proxy of the Golden Sovereign!”
KRAAAANG!
The Golden Commander leapt again, and the golden dais dissolved back into golem fragments and smoke.
“Hmm, is that okay?”
The Golden Sovereign ordered me to fetch the Divine Rock. If words fail, they’d send force.
“Bahaha—such authority I possess.”
For as the Golden Commander acting for the Golden Sovereign, he may make limited proclamations.
Using that power, he declared, “I will not fight Kim Sinhwa.” Thus “even if you must use force to retrieve it” became an impossible mission—Seocheonseul has refused the Golden Sovereign’s command.
“Hmm—Golden Commander, by the way...”
“Mr. Kim, don’t carry heavy burdens too long. Call on me whenever you need.”
No room for idle talk.
“Understood.”
I helped Huh Sanghyun to his feet—he sat dazed beside me—
“Ugh, Sanghyun, sorry but I can’t lift you on my own!”
“Ah, no, Mr. Sinhwa. I’ll get up myself!”
“Bahahaha! Weak little Mr. Kim fellows!”
Seocheonseul pulled Huh Sanghyun up, dusted the dirt from his clothes, then said:
“And while you’re at it, choose a path that lets you live a bit longer.”
“I will live long.”
“About a thousand years or so.”
“I can’t live that long.”
“A species that ages to death in the blink of an eye—how you flutter like moths to a flame, I’ll never know.”
A thousand-year pity gleamed in Seocheonseul’s eyes. Feeling sorry because others can’t live that long—that’s hard to follow.
“Cut the nonsense. After all, dokkaebi won’t understand.”
Somehow I recall Gong Isu saying the same.
“Bahahaha—indeed. I’ll have another drink. Did you know, Mr. Kim, each sip of Dream Incense adds a year to your life?”
“Well, since the Golden Commander broke the mood, do some trick to liven things up.”
“Ah, then I shall sing a song.”
“Oh no—everyone’s really—leaving me out—”
Suddenly Jang Hyundeok burst in, his cheaply dyed blond hair and red face wobbling as he walked out.
“Ah—ibangnam—everyone drink penalty shots—penalty shooooots—”
The drinking resumed and lasted through the night.
This time, without suspicion, mishaps, or fights—just singing, dancing, shouting, laughing, eating, drinking—peaceful hours.
I thought it might go on until the next day, but with so many special constitutions present—the party ended before sunrise.
“Mr. Kim, what is this?”
“You said you’d give me a gift, remember? It’s your gift.”
“Oh? Wizard, when did you bring this?”
Jang Hyundeok, who’d dozed off midway, scratched his head and walked outside the mansion. Half-sober, yet free of hangover symptoms. Indeed, Dream Incense wards off hangovers.
“I bought it ❀ Nоvеlігht ❀ (Don’t copy, read here) when I went to get snacks.”
With several gates into Paju, it’s quick when you set your mind to it.
Meanwhile, Seocheonseul’s eyes widened as he looked at what I produced.
“Ha, an Odo-Bai.”
“You know what it is, huh?”
“Years ago—three years or so? When this country was ruled by hengeyokai (ancient Japanese term for yokai), I hunted them down. I saw a few then.”
“You mean three years ago we had such an incident here?”
Jang Hyundeok questioned Seocheonseul’s sloppy chronology.
“No, I mean the Japanese colonial period. I’m not sure exactly, but it must have been at least seventy years, maybe a hundred.”
I don’t know if there’s specific lore, but Seocheonseul must’ve been among the independence fighters.
“Bahahaha—so this is Mr. Kim’s gift, then?”
“Yes. You complained you could only move one step at a time. From now on, use this.”
“I like it.”
VROOOOM—
Although rushed at night, the model isn’t impressive—but it works.
WHIRRRRR—
As Seocheonseul mounted and started the engine, the frame turned to gold and the wheels to fiery golden spokes.
“Whoaaaaa!? What is that? Where did you get something like this?”
“It’s not for sale. If the Golden Commander rode it, your call van would spit flames and run on water.”
“Ah, because he’s a dokkaebi—make me rich, make me rich, make me rich.”
“Bahahaha—well then, farewell! I’ll deliver your entrustment well to the Golden Sovereign!”
The sun is about to rise.
“Bahahaha—”
VRRROOOOM! WHIRRRRR—
Seocheonseul disappeared westward, leaving a long golden trail.
“Master—or rather... Mr. Sinhwa, are you all right?”
Huh Sanghyun asked.
Unlike usual, his uniform was askew, and his neatly pinned hair was disheveled, half-covering his large eyes.
“Well, I’m fine, but how about you, Sanghyun?”
Jang Hyundeok was already full of energy—must be the potent liquor.
“This... drinking so much for the first time... And that jar...?”
The drinking jar Seocheonseul brought still sits in the living room. Why did it hold so much?
“Well, I think the liquor left in that jar could fill a decent swimming pool.”
“Ugh, I see...”
“Now then, shall we go inside and clean up?”
Right—though we partied all night, I feel no fatigue. Rather, an unprecedented vitality fills me.
A night bewitched by dokkaebi—or was I truly bewitched? In any case, that night ended, and my usual routine resumed.
My routine follows a rather monotonous cycle.
Lock myself in a dark basement to research surreal magic, then at dusk head out as a fixer into perilous fights.
KRAAAANG!
“GRAAAAGH!”
Ah, lately my routine is a bit special.
I focus on jobs Tudor assigns that involve certain organizations.
“Deep Abyss Hunter! So you’ve come this far!”
“What’s with that cringe-worthy title?”
The fake monks of the Sangbul Temple, worshippers of [Sangdubul], ignored my question and shouted.
“Why on earth are you attacking us! Why!”
“I decided to wipe out everyone who worships elephant-like creatures. If you’ve nothing more to say, now everyone, ‘Eight—strike!’ and charge.”
“Eight—strike!”
