After that, no one dared to attack. They simply couldn't.
Seeing the pool of blood, no one possessed the courage to do so.
Nearly ten thousand people holding weapons froze right in those postures. Unthrust spear tips and half-drawn blades remained suspended in midair.
Jin Seon-ah watched the entire scene from the cliffside.
It was then that the middle of the frozen crowd split wide open like a gaping mouth.
Because Kim Rae-won took a step. Every time he moved, those blocking his path scrambled aside. Raised weapons lowered, and bodies backed away, opening a path out of nowhere. No shouting, no clashing. The man simply walked through the gap, heading deeper into the valley.
The Kirin trotted behind him like a puppy. Comically, its massive body looked almost cute.
Jin Seon-ah couldn't take her eyes off his back until he vanished into the dusk.
Once the man who froze them was gone, the crowd burst into noise again. Soon, all sorts of conspiracy theories and heated arguments erupted as people gathered and scattered.
Jin Seon-ah couldn't understand their words, but their actions were obvious.
One group was arguing, pointing toward the deep valley where the man disappeared before yelling at each other.
Others squatted near the dead, digging through the mud to loot fallen weapons and items.
Some just stared blankly at the sky.
Jin Seon-ah had no idea what they were waiting for. But the expectation from earlier was gone. They had all seen the heads roll.
Soon, the crowd began leaking toward the entrance.
It started with those closest to the valley mouth. One or two tested the waters and slipped out, then the numbers exploded. They weren't running out of anger. They just had no reason to stay, so they naturally moved outside.
A few became tens, tens became hundreds, and soon thousands, then tens of thousands flowed out.
Right below Jin Seon-ah, the valley's only exit was swallowing and draining the massive crowd.
The first place they'll hit is Mu-cheong...
Before she could think through the consequences, a presence stirred below the cliff.
A few who split from the main crowd were feeling around beneath the cliff in search of a place to shelter from the rain. Two of them even began scaling the cliffside. It was less than fifty steps to where the four lay prostrated. A distance so close that any master would notice immediately.
Swoosh.
The three spies silently reached for their sword hilts. Jin Seon-ah raised a hand and pressed them down.
The moment a blade is drawn, it's over. Getting caught here would draw all eyes to this cliff.
To fight the Descent Clan without knowing their full strength?
It was suicide.
She held her men back with glances and hand gestures, quietly probing the aura below.
Fortunately, the two climbing stopped right under the rock ledge below. She felt them huddle in the crevice as rainwater flowed past. They didn't climb any further.
The four pressed themselves tighter against the wet rock.
"Unit Commander."
The spy's voice was dry as bone.
"To headquarters... what should we report?"
A messenger falcon had to be sent. Even now, her father would be staring at the western sky.
The enemy was about to pour over Superwind Cliff and descend upon Mu-cheong city, yet they had no countermeasures. Today, the message had to be swifter and, above all, more accurate than ever before.
But what could she even write?
It was full of things no one would believe.
After a long pause, she remembered a spy's rule: write only what you see. That was how she was trained.
Jin Seon-ah used her internal energy to press characters into the special paper.
Tens of thousands of Descent Clan had emerged at Superwind Cliff. They might enter Mu-cheong city. Prepare.
That was enough. She wrote not a single word about Kim Rae-won—for now.
She folded the paper and tied it to the falcon's leg.
"To Mu-cheong city. Right away."
A spy took the falcon and released it into the dark. Its wet wingbeats were instantly swallowed by the rain.
Even after it vanished, Jin Seon-ah kept her eyes on the valley.
Kim Rae-won was already gone. Dusk had turned to night deep in the valley, where narrowing cliffs held thick darkness. Both the man and the legendary beast were gone without a trace.
Where did he go?
She had no idea. As far as she knew, there was nothing inside that canyon.
But there must be something. A man like that wouldn't go there for no reason.
Rain fell silently over the dark.
• • •
What lay behind him was already a meaningless picture.
It might matter in the distant future, but that was a problem for then.
The sound of tens of thousands leaving Superwind Cliff echoed continuously, but Dong Bong-soo didn't look back. He just kept a brief thought in the back of his mind.
I hope this becomes interesting.
Splish, splash.
Dong Bong-soo simply walked deeper into the valley.
Rain-washed gray cliffs narrowed and stretched upward. He was heading toward the mid-slope where the cliffs met a mountain that seemed to pierce the sky.
It was the single coordinate he had targeted the moment he entered the canyon.
A pin he personally dropped long ago. The place holding records of the Karma Root Clan—the entrance to the The Heavenly Repository of Records.
If there were answers to how many beings like him drifted into this world and died, or answers to the problems of this world and beyond, they would be behind that door.
Snort.
The Kirin walking ahead suddenly stopped.
Its massive frame twisted to look up at a spot on the mountain. White mane bristled down its spine. The purple glow under its horn flared bright, as if someone cranked the wick. One hoof stepped back, then froze.
Its fierce eyes locked onto that direction.
Dong Bong-soo stopped and followed its gaze.
In the corner of his vision, the pinned coordinate was blinking at closed proximity.
[Unexplored Location - Coordinates Partially Restored]
Splish, splash.
With every step, the coordinate on the mini-map blinked faster. As the distance closed, it flashed as if out of breath.
Higher up the mid-slope, the rain thinned out.
Superwind Cliff was always raining. Unceasing rain beat the valley and licked the cliffs. But this area was different.
Downpours from above hit an invisible line and slid sideways. No rain fell here. Right in the center of an eternal typhoon, an 'eye of the storm' existed where wind and rain couldn't step foot. It certainly wasn't like this when he first arrived earlier.
Once the rain cleared, a scent hit his nose.
Long-soaked moss, dried ink, rotted paper. The three tangled together, flowing out like a heavy mass of energy.
In a valley that smelled only of wet fish, this scent stood alone.
It was familiar.
Familiar, huh. I came to the right place.
Dong Bong-soo had never smelled it before. His 'body' had.
Kim Rae-won. The exact spot where he once walked up and sensed something.
Reaching it, a fragmented piece of Kim Rae-won's blurred memories naturally replayed.
Karma... there are records...
Qualification...
Just let me check...
"...It's no use."
—No.
The memory drifted on the scent and quickly settled down.
The Kim Rae-won back then couldn't open the door.
Of course, it would open this time.
Because it was Dong Bong-soo standing here, not Kim Rae-won.
Crossing the line where the rain slid away, the source of the scent appeared before his eyes.
A cliff. Another cliff atop a cliff.
There was no door. No crack, no scratch from a hand. Just a flat, unremarkable rock face, blackened by ages of rain, towering like any other cliff.
Yet the pin on the restored mini-map was stuck right in the middle of that rock.
The coordinate swore it was here, but there was nothing in front of him.
Dong Bong-soo had never experienced such a mismatch, but it didn't matter.
If it won't open... I'll just make it open.
The Kirin lowered its massive body toward the empty rock. Unlike when it submitted to Dong Bong-soo, it stretched its neck, snorted, and leaned entirely toward the wall. Purple light trembled at the tip of its horn.
"You felt it too, huh? That something's off."
The scent, the beast, and the pin all pointed to one spot. It wasn't empty.
Is it just not showing up on this side yet?
He had seen hidden sights like this plenty of times.
A Daoist mechanism, a array, a worldline difference, or maybe it needed a key like a Spirit Stone.
For now, there was no telling what was behind it.
Dong Bong-soo stared at the rock for a long time, then smirked.
He could feel it.
He faced the rock and spoke.
"I heard there's some kind of test?"
He threw the question into empty air, but his tone was dead certain he'd get an answer.
In that instant, someone stood between the wall and Dong Bong-soo.
There had been no sign of anyone approaching, no hint of a presence manifesting. The figure was humanoid, but its features were lost in shadow, and the edges of its outline were blurred like ink bleeding in water.
Neither [Faith's Eye] nor [Spiritual Eye] reacted.
An unidentified manifestation.
A existence completely unperceived by the System.
"Interesting."
The entity seemed just as interested, scanning Dong Bong-soo carefully. More than scanning, it looked like it was reconfirming what it already knew.
Soon, a sound echoed out. A layered, crowd-like voice, as if dozens spoke through one mouth.
— You are awake.
There was no room for questions. The still air proved it had been watching the chaos outside all along.
Before Dong Bong-soo could pick his next words, the mountain, the surroundings, the entire Superwind Cliff distorted.
The rain outside the eye of the storm—loud just seconds ago—instantly went silent. It didn't stop. It literally went void.
Instead of light, the heavy scent of moss, ink, and rotted paper rushed in. The air sank under the weight of something that had guarded this place for ages.
At the same time,
Rumbleeeeeee.
Part of the cliff receded. Weathered, discolored rock patterns sank downward, revealing a strange layer underneath—like rock, or the texture of leaves. A massive tunnel carved into the cliff, rapidly expanding.
— Enter. O' Screen Holder (151) who possesses sufficient qualification.
The murmuring of tens of thousands below felt miles away in an instant.
Step, step.
Dong Bong-soo walked inside as if it were natural.
No wet squelching or splashing. Just dry, solid footsteps—proof that this was indeed the Heavenly Repository of Records, the Heavenly Secret Academy.
How many miles did he walk?
He did not know.
A massive door had finally appeared before his eyes. A bizarre door where only his path existed like a trail, while the entire surrounding world seemed to be made of this door itself.
The moment he arrived, the door began to open.
There was no thunderous roar. Even as the two massive doors receded inward, the sound was swallowed up.
What flowed out first wasn't light, but air. Air soaked in that ancient scent where time had stopped.
Step, step.
Dong Bong-soo stepped into the massive dark. The Kirin lowered its horn and followed.
The door closed behind them, sewing the world back together. The receded cliff slid back, and the revealed door sank under the rock patterns. The suspended rain resumed its fall, beating against the mud.
A moment later, all that remained on the mountainside was a plain cliff, no different from any other night.
Leaving behind no trace of what had opened, closed, or swallowed the two whole.