Call Of The Spear [EN]: Chapter 174

Tales of the Spirit Lancer – Chapter 173

The Dragon Battlefield, the site of the Hundred Ghost Night Parade, featured ten towering pavilions.

Each pavilion stood atop a sacred mountain, with a central mountain piercing the sky.

That central peak was Cheolgong Mountain, a revered and sacred place.

The Hundred Ghost Night Parade unfolded around this mountain, resembling a grand festival.

“I’ve heard of Cheolgong Mountain. The Siphaemancheok [a powerful group of spirit beasts] have considered it sacred since ancient times.”

To withdraw, to empty.

Cheolgong Mountain.

A name imbued with subtle meaning.

“Enough about that. Try this. It’s sweet, just the way you like it, Ran.”

Sangun gently pushed a round yumilgwa [a traditional Korean honey cookie] into Hwaran’s mouth as he spoke.

She initially frowned, but the sweet taste gradually softened her expression.

“When you come to a festival, it’s good to sample the refreshments.”

Sangun paid for the treats, bought a few more, and carried them as they walked.

“Sangun, how can you wander around carrying snacks with no regard for your dignity?”

“Ran, there’s no need for formality here. It’s their festival, and if I don’t enjoy it, I’m only hurting myself. Here, I’m just another spirit beast enjoying the festivities.”

“But…”

Recalling Instructor Kang’s memories, he slipped a piece of taffy into Ran’s mouth.

“Eat your taffy.”

Ran’s eyebrows furrowed slightly, but she remained silent.

She, too, as a sword spirit within Sangun, could access his memories.

How could she not recognize the source of those memories?

Hwaran quietly followed him, slowly melting the taffy in her mouth.

“It’s like stepping into another world.”

Sangun, enjoying the festival with Hwaran, suddenly voiced this sentiment.

He paused in the bustling marketplace, gazing up at the night sky.

Several ghost beasts soared through the air, playing musical instruments.

Stalls lined the ground, vendors hawking various spirit herbs and peculiar artifacts.

The number of ghost beasts gathering in the still-dark sky showed no sign of diminishing, and lanterns continued to amass.

Occasionally, the voices of the ghost beasts grew louder, signaling the arrival of a new Ghost King and their entourage.

“L-Lord Sagwi…!”

It seemed a Sagwi [a high-ranking ghost king] had arrived this time.

Ghost beasts with features blending elephants and sheep pulled a massive carriage across the sky.

However, Sangun simply turned his head.

There was no need to pay attention to the Ghost King.

At least, not yet.

‘I’ll deal with them later.’

Just then, Sangun’s eyes snapped to attention.

His gaze fixed on a girl.

She appeared ordinary, yet strangely familiar, as if he had encountered her before.

He frowned, pondering, before his eyes widened in realization.

“Why is that child…”

Ran, her cheek bulging with taffy, asked,

“What’s wrong?”

However, Sangun didn’t answer.

The girl had already vanished without a trace.

She had disappeared like a ghost.

He wondered if he had imagined it, but dismissed the thought.

“Why would that servant girl from the Ilwol Gate [a prominent Taoist sect] show her face here?”

Moreover, she was still at the same Doseon [a cultivation stage] level as before, confirming his identification.

‘About 400 years have passed, and a Doseon child is still alive?’

That defied belief.

A bead of sweat trickled down Sangun’s spine.

It was fleeting, but if he hadn’t recognized true cultivation, that girl was at least one level above Sangun.

She might have been a Jiseon [a higher cultivation stage], or even a Yeongwon Seonsa [an even higher cultivation stage].

‘But she doesn’t seem like a Jiseon…’

Having met Hwanmang, he didn’t sense the unique energy signature of a Jiseon.

It was a faint, almost imperceptible energy.

“It’s like the moon reflected in water.”

“What nonsense are you spouting?”

That was the feeling.

It could be the pinnacle of Eunseul [a technique to conceal one’s presence], the state of Banbakgwijin [returning to simplicity] at its extreme. But there was no certainty.

‘It’s an energy I’ve felt somewhere before… I can’t quite place it.’

Sangun shook his head, scanned the crowd, and changed direction.

“If fate wills it, we’ll meet again.”

“You’re acting strangely today.”

Hwaran tilted her head, following him once more.

* * *

At the summit of Cheolgong Mountain.

Ten ancient jade thrones, seemingly carved from the rock itself, stood in a semi-circle. Three of the thrones remained empty, those of the Sixth, Eighth, and Tenth Ghosts.

“Is everyone present?”

A long-haired man, the last to take his seat, glanced around the assembly.

Various figures materialized from the shadows.

Most had shed their monstrous forms, making identification difficult.

However, the thrones bore numbered inscriptions, revealing their positions within the hierarchy.

“Since everyone is here, let’s begin, First Ghost.”

A sharp voice cut through the air, belonging to the Ninth Ghost King, adorned with multiple tails.

It was Kkamanghori.

“I’m busy.”

She appeared almost cute as she spoke with crossed arms, but the other Ghost Kings frowned, clearly disliking her attitude.

However, they glanced at Hongyeon standing behind her and quickly suppressed their displeasure.

“We’re not here for idle chatter, so I’ll be brief,” the First Ghost stated.

Seeing no objections, he raised his index finger.

“First, the enemy that threatens us.”

Primarily, it was the Taoists.

More specifically….

“Are you referring to the Great Elder of the Ilwol Gate?”

“Precisely. I don’t know the circumstances of the Sixth Ghost’s demise, but you all know why the Eighth and Tenth Ghosts met their eternal sleep.”

It would be odd if they didn’t.

The death of a Ghost King had significant repercussions for the Siphaemancheok.

Originally, they were named Siphaemancheok because they dominated the ten seas.

The death of a Ghost King invariably led to a loss of power, a natural consequence.

“I heard he vehemently opposes us and seeks our destruction by any means. The reasons can be narrowed down to two main factors: a deep-seated grudge, and the Cheonyangjibo [a legendary treasure].”

It was a plausible explanation.

The animosity between spirit beasts and humans was ancient and profound, and the Cheonyangjibo was a treasure coveted by all. It was only natural that a compelling motive would involve it.

A Taoist who dedicates time to matters beyond cultivation requires a convincing justification.

“He’s also mistaken. The Cheonyangjibo… most of us haven’t even acquired it!”

Thump!

The Third Ghost slammed his fist down, creating a loud echo, but the throne remained intact.

He was a monkey spirit beast with two heads. He then looked at the First Ghost with subtle eyes and continued.

“Is there still no news about the Cheonyangjibo that the previous Third Ghost possessed?”

“I don’t know. I don’t even know why he died in the first place, so how would I know?”

“Tsk.”

The Third Ghost clicked his tongue, expressing his disappointment. If he possessed the Cheonyangjibo, he could wield even greater divine powers and fear nothing, but alas, it was not to be.

“Anyway, it’s only right that we repay those who have harmed us. If the Ghost Kings gather again after this Hundred Ghost Night Parade…”

“…That’s the day we’ll strike Banggok [location of Ilwol Gate].”

Only terrifying murderous intent raged in his vertically split eyes.

The other Ghost Kings also shuddered at the First Ghost’s subtly revealed murderous intent.

“Then what’s the second matter?”

“The second matter is, of course, the Hundred Ghost Night Parade itself. But there’s nothing special to say. We’ll be selecting Ghost King candidates from among those gathered…”

The First Ghost made eye contact with a few Ghost Kings and continued.

“There are also those who have been recommended.”

The Ninth Ghost’s eyes lit up.

The others were no different, because Sangun was not the only one who had been recommended as a Ghost King candidate.

“But we need to test their trustworthiness.”

“Are you saying you’ll subject them to the Ghost Tribulation [a trial for potential Ghost Kings]?”

“You guessed correctly.”

The Ninth Ghost’s eyebrows furrowed.

She shook her tail and fidgeted, expressing her displeasure.

She seemed quite displeased.

“If you put them through the Ghost Tribulation of the Hundred Ghost Night Parade, wouldn’t that be rather unbalanced?”

“Balance is only relevant when there’s a reference point, and I don’t believe we need to establish one.”

“What do you mean?”

“The standard is set by those who undergo the Ghost Tribulation, so there’s no need to worry about it. Besides, shouldn’t we have the opportunity to observe and evaluate them with our own eyes?”

That was a valid point.

There was no real counter-argument, but it was clear that any attempt would be futile.

Since the First Ghost had spoken, his decision was final.

The Fifth Ghost looked worried, but remained indifferent, as if unconcerned.

“Is there no other way?”

As she was giving up, a voice like rolling jade beads echoed.

“Then what’s the last matter?”

It was the Seventh Ghost, possessing captivating beauty and adorned in a sky-blue palace dress.

“The last matter is…”

Soon, a sincere voice slowly resonated from the First Ghost’s mouth.

Most of the other Ghost Kings frowned as they listened to his words.

* * *

At the same time.

Sangun’s eyebrows rose as he enjoyed the festival, sipping Yahang wine [a type of spirituous liquor].

Buzzing.

The atmosphere suddenly grew chaotic.

Festivals were meant to be lively, but this was different.

“Did a fight break out?”

He took a step and climbed onto a gnarled pine tree.

From his vantage point, he could see the source of the commotion: a circle of gathered ghost beasts.

“[A guy who’s ambiguous whether he’s a horse or a cow, do you think you can make such a noise even knowing who’s behind me!]”

“[What does it matter if I know? Even so, you’ll be a bloody mess with just one swing of my club!]”

They were snarling at each other, poised for a fight.

One had the head of a cow and the mane and tail of a horse, while the other appeared to be a giant turtle spirit beast.

Behind them stood their respective followers, ready to join the fray.

“[It’s no different from what you mongrels with mixed blood do. Everyone come at me! I’ll show you how fierce the blood of Jugwitongchun [a type of turtle spirit beast] is today!]”

Jugwitongchun!

It was the name of a very hard shell that Sangun had briefly used before.

“[There’s nothing my horn can’t pierce! I’ll make a nice, cool hole in your shell!]”

As the murderous intent intensified, lower-level spirit beasts began to flee.

‘Jugwitongchun… How interesting. I heard that they are generally species that avoid fighting.’

However, most of those gathered were Yeongmyeong [a cultivation stage], so he wasn’t particularly interested.

The other ghost beasts also sensed the impending brawl, and vendors quickly packed up their stalls and scattered.

“It’s commonplace for those guys to fight, but there’s something strange mixed in.”

Sangun noticed someone among the ghost beasts.

Sangun leaned forward.

He folded space and teleported to the individual’s location.

Swish.

The individual had four arms and a face hideous enough to be called a ghost beast.

Sangun narrowed his eyes and smirked at the individual.

“What’s going on?”

The individual asked, his voice unpleasant.

Anyone would react that way to having their path blocked.

It was a rude act, but Sangun simply smiled.

“I have a question.”

“A question?”

“It’s nothing special…”

Sangun waved his hand.

Following his gesture, intricate Dharma [Buddhist teachings/principles] was woven, and the ghost beast’s form began to crumble into dust.

“Wh-What!”

The individual shouted in alarm.

In contrast, a bitter smile played on Sangun’s lips.

“Do humans come to the Hundred Ghost Night Parade these days?”