After returning from meeting the Spirit King, Yoon-seul's prayers changed.
The depth was different. When she sat by the stream and closed her eyes, the sound of the water entered her body first. The wind didn't just pass over her skin—it seeped inside it. The Spirit King's blessing. Nature opening its doors to Yoon-seul. In Korea, it took ten hours of prayer to reach this depth. Here, she could reach it in an hour.
Her vessel was growing. Slowly, but surely.
That day, too, she rose from the stream after finishing her dawn prayers—and then it came.
Her head rang.
No. It wasn't ringing. Something descended from the crown of her head. Neither hot nor cold. Something like an electric current. It passed over her forehead, through her eyes and throat, and descended into her chest. The instant it reached her heart, it burst.
Images.
Fire. The village was burning. Roen's house was burning. Blood pooled around the well in the square. People with knives were tearing through the village. They weren't wearing armor. Their leather clothes were closer to rags. Bandits. Their eyes were bloodshot. The villagers were running. A child was crying.
Yoon-seul's eyes changed.
Her pupils went slack. Her focus vanished. A faint light rose over her irises. Her mouth opened. It wasn't Yoon-seul's voice. It was her voice, but the texture was different. Lower, with a much older resonance.
"Blood is coming."
The stream stopped flowing. The wind stopped. The entire forest was listening to Yoon-seul's words.
"Within three days. Men carrying blades will come. They'll bring fire."
When the words ended, the light vanished from her eyes. Her pupils returned. Yoon-seul staggered. Her knees buckled, and she sank down beside the stream. She pressed a hand to her chest. Her heart was pounding like mad.
"...What was that?"
It was her first prophecy.
She had heard about it from her master after receiving the divine spirit. "The day will come when a god speaks through your mouth. When that happens, your body won't belong to you." It had never happened once in Korea. This was the first time, here in another world.
Kallen stirred inside her. Agitation. Whatever had happened in this woman's body was beyond Kallen's understanding.
With trembling hands, Yoon-seul scooped up stream water and splashed it over her face.
The bandits were coming. Within three days.
She went down to the village.
She looked for Roen. He was hanging laundry outside his house. When he saw Yoon-seul's face, he stopped.
"What happened?"
"Bandits are coming."
Roen's expression hardened.
"Within three days. People carrying swords will come with fire."
"...How do you know that?"
Yoon-seul paused to choose her words, then answered honestly.
"A god told me."
Roen stared at Yoon-seul for a long moment. This Eastern woman had been in the village for barely ten days. She had banished the ghost attached to his shoulder. She talked to empty air. She wandered through the woods barefoot. Everything about her was strange, but she didn't have the eyes of a liar.
"We need to tell the village chief."
Roen set down the laundry and started walking. Yoon-seul followed him.
The village chief was an old man with a bad leg. He listened to Roen, then looked at Yoon-seul.
"This young lady saw it?"
"Yes."
"Do you have proof?"
Yoon-seul couldn't answer. She had no proof. Prophecies left no evidence behind. Only feelings and images.
The chief sighed. But he didn't dismiss her completely. The village was small, and the threat of bandits was constant. There had also been rumors that a village to the east had recently been raided.
"We'll post a watch. But I can't do anything more than that."
That was all.
Two days passed.
At dawn on the third day, Yoon-seul woke up. No—it wasn't waking up. Her body had awakened her. The blessing of the Spirit King inside her chest was vibrating. Nature was warning her. The birds in the forest all took flight at once. The wind changed direction. The smell of metal mingled with the scent of earth.
They were coming.
Yoon-seul burst out of the house. She looked toward the village entrance. She couldn't see anything yet. But her senses were certain. From the east. More than twenty bloodthirsty presences were approaching.
"Roen!"
At Yoon-seul's shout, Roen opened his door. One look at her face told him everything.
"They're here?"
"Yes. Hurry."
The village woke up. The chief rang the bell. The men gathered with farming tools in hand. Only three of them had swords. The rest carried axes, sickles, or clubs.
Yoon-seul stood in the square, watching the east. It was just before sunrise. The sky was dark crimson.
Kallen stirred inside her. Battle. Kallen's instincts were awakening.
"Kallen."
Yoon-seul spoke inwardly.
"Lend me your strength."
She began the possession. Drawing Kallen forward. Pulling the power sleeping inside her vessel up and over her body.
But something blocked her.
She had no ritual implements.
In Korea, she had bells. She had a fan. She had a ritual sword. Ritual implements were the passageway for possession. When she shook the bell, a door opened. When she unfurled the fan, the wind cleared a path. When she held the ritual sword, the god descended. Now there was nothing in Yoon-seul's hands.
She had to open the door barehanded.
Yoon-seul gritted her teeth. She brought both hands together in front of her chest and closed her eyes. It was her first time possessing a spirit without ritual implements. Her master had warned her. "Without ritual implements, it'll put three times the strain on your body. Don't do it." But she had no other choice.
She squeezed out her strength. It felt like twisting open the lid of her vessel with her bare hands. It felt as though her fingernails were breaking. As though her head were splitting apart. A thin line of blood ran from her nose.
Kallen rose.
Slowly. Heavily. With ritual implements, it would have taken one breath. This took ten. But Kallen rose.
Yoon-seul's posture changed. Her back straightened. Her shoulders dropped. The distance between her feet shifted. When she opened her eyes, her gaze was different. They were Yoon-seul's eyes, but they were Kallen's eyes.
Blood ran from her nose down her chin. Yoon-seul wiped it away roughly with the back of her hand.
"...Can I borrow a sword? Just one."
A man standing beside her stared blankly at Yoon-seul, then held out the old sword in his hand.
Yoon-seul took the sword. No—Kallen took the sword.
The instant the sword touched her hand, the air changed. Everyone in the square felt it. This woman had become someone else.
The bandits arrived.
Twenty-three of them. Rusty swords and leather armor. Their leader was a big man carrying an ax. He laughed as he entered the village. A small village. Easy prey.
"No need to kill them all. Just take the grain and the women."
As the bandits began to spread out, someone walked out from the square.
Small in stature. Barefoot. Her teddy bear pajamas were gone now, but the clothes she'd borrowed from Roen didn't fit, so the sleeves were folded up. Dried blood crusted her chin. An old sword was in one hand.
The bandit leader burst out laughing.
"What the hell is that?"
Yoon-seul didn't stop. She walked. It was Kallen's stride. Slow, precise, and unwavering.
One of the bandits charged. He brought his sword down.
Yoon-seul's body slid to the side. Kallen's reflexes. As she passed, she struck his wrist. The bandit's sword fell. One motion. Clean.
A second came. Then a third. Yoon-seul's body moved. Kallen's swordsmanship flowed through the old blade. She didn't cut them. She struck their wrists, their knees, knocked their weapons away. Shamans did not kill people. Yoon-seul's instincts placed that restriction over Kallen's swordsmanship.
But her body was failing.
Possession without ritual implements. When she brought down the fifth bandit, blood began to flow from Yoon-seul's left ear. When she brought down the seventh, her vision shook. Cracks were spreading through her vessel. The Spirit King's warning came back to her. If the vessel broke, both what it held and the vessel itself would disappear.
The bandit leader approached with his ax. The other bandits retreated, clearing a path for him.
"You're an interesting bitch."
The ax came down. It was heavy. She dodged it with Kallen's technique, but the pressure of the wind alone pushed Yoon-seul's body back. A second swing. She deflected it with her sword. Her arm went numb. A third.
She couldn't block it.
The ax handle slammed into Yoon-seul's side. Her body flew and rolled across the ground. Blood spilled from her mouth.
Kallen's possession began to come undone. Her vessel was shaking. She was running out of strength to maintain it.
Yoon-seul stayed face-down on the ground, refusing to let go of the sword. Her hand trembled. Her vision blurred.
'No. Not yet.'
She gritted her teeth. Spat out blood-flecked saliva. Then she stood. Her legs were shaking.
The bandit leader tilted his head. He looked amazed that she was still standing.
Yoon-seul raised her sword. Kallen's possession was only half intact. His full swordsmanship wouldn't come through. But Yoon-seul smiled. With her face covered in blood.
"Just give me a second."
The bandit leader hesitated. Smiling in a situation like this was strange.
Yoon-seul gathered every last bit of strength she had. She raised Kallen again. One final time. Her vessel screamed. Blood flowed from her nose and ears at once.
Kallen rose. Completely.
One step.
Before the bandit leader's ax could come down, Yoon-seul's sword reached him first. The wrist gripping the ax. Precise. Not deep, but deep enough to sever the tendon.
The ax fell.
The leader clutched his wrist and screamed. The other bandits froze. They had never seen their leader go down.
Yoon-seul's legs gave out. Her knees buckled. She barely kept herself upright by bracing against her sword. Kallen's possession ended completely. Her vessel was empty. It felt as though nothing remained inside her body.
The bandits retreated. They dragged their leader away and fled. Seven of the twenty-three were down, and the leader's wrist had been cut. The rest had lost the will to fight.
The village fell silent.
Yoon-seul was kneeling, leaning on her sword. Her breathing was ragged. Her entire body was soaked in sweat and blood. Her field of vision was narrowing.
Then it came again.
Something descended from her head into her chest. The same sensation as during the first prophecy. But this time, it was clearer. Stronger. Even though her body was battered and broken, the god would not wait.
Yoon-seul's eyes changed again. Her pupils went slack, and light rose over her irises. Her mouth opened.
"Find your ritual implements."
Her voice rang across the square. It was Yoon-seul's voice, but it wasn't Yoon-seul's voice.
"Your bell is in this land. Your fan is in this land. Your ritual sword is in this land. They are scattered. Find them."
Images poured in. Something shining on a mountain. Something sleeping beneath a lake. Something buried in the ruins. They weren't clear. Only the directions were clear. East, west, north.
"Your vessel alone isn't enough. Obtain your ritual implements. Only then will you be able to use what is yours to its fullest."
The light vanished. Yoon-seul's eyes returned to normal.
Then she collapsed. Forward. Her face struck the dirt. Just before her consciousness went out, she felt one last thing.
Kallen was holding on to Yoon-seul from inside her body. Even though the possession had ended, he held on inside her vessel, keeping Yoon-seul's consciousness from going dark. A ghost was protecting a living person.
Yoon-seul smiled faintly.
'...Thank you, Kallen.'
Her consciousness faded.
The villagers came running. Roen lifted Yoon-seul into his arms. She was light. She had done all that with such a small body.
Seven bandits sprawled across the square. The rest had fled. One bloodstained sword. And a barefoot woman face-down in the dirt.
The village had survived.
As Roen carried Yoon-seul home, he repeated the words that had come from her mouth.
Find your ritual implements.
This young lady wasn't someone who was meant to stay here. Now she was someone who had to go out into the world.