Nogani fell to his knees, weeping as he offered the black bundle with trembling hands. Guangdu did not reach for it. His gaze was fixed elsewhere—on the young swordsman behind the boy, who stood with an annoyingly casual grin. Two swords. Arrogant little whelp.
I've shown myself descending from the heavens twice already… and you still smirk?
Guangdu's fingers twitched. Perhaps he should snap the swordsman's neck and be done with it. But then—something stirred within.
'Be careful.'
The whisper echoed, not from the air, but from within his own skull. A warning? An instinct? No—it rang like a voice, deep and reverberant, like thunder through stone.
Could there truly be a spirit dwelling in Woonrak Falls?
He turned away, hands folded behind his back, gazing into the mist rising from the water.
'Let them go. The omens are ill today.'
It was the first time a spirit had spoken directly to him—and it made his skin crawl.
Behind him, Nogani's voice broke the silence.
"Why are you drawing your sword? Are you saying our Great Master Guangdu is… is a monster?"
What? He's drawing his sword—behind me? That insolent bastard!
Guangdu spun, extending a hand with all the grace of divine retribution.
Nothing happened.
He wiggled his fingers as if dusting off, then spoke in his most dignified voice.
"Today I am feeling unusually merciful. You two may leave, unscathed."
Nogani stared at him in shock, as if the heavens had collapsed. The swordsman simply smirked.
"What's wrong? Nervous?"
It had been a long time since Guangdu had felt so thoroughly mocked. Yet behind the swordsman's casual tone was a gaze—clear, confident, unreadable. And in that gaze, Guangdu felt a real chill.
He turned away quickly.
"I do not welcome the corrupted into our faith," he declared. "Nogani, the man you brought with you… he is tainted."
The strength of his own voice surprised him. It was the voice of a prophet, of a god.
But then came Nogani again—cheerful, oblivious.
"Hmm? Great Master… Your hands behind your back… they're shaking. Don't tell me—"
The swordsman chuckled. "He is. Look at him. Hey, fraud—if you can float up Woonrak Falls on a cloud just once more in front of me, I'll let it all go. Go ahead. Show me."
Guangdu's spine stiffened. Something was wrong. Deeply wrong.
But now the murmurs of his followers were rising, chanting for the punishment of the unbeliever.
He had no choice. He raised both arms and cried out, "Peace! Forgive this poor, ignorant soul!"
Yes… his believers were simple fools. All it would take was a spark, and they'd tear the man apart for him.
He lifted his chin and declared, "To insult me, your divine master—"
Whump!
A sudden blow struck him in the ribs. He tumbled sideways across the ground, rolling like a sack of grain.
The crowd gasped. The sky itself seemed to crack. Their god had fallen.
Nogani cried out, "Brother Goi! You promised to just watch!"
Goi replied calmly, "That was me just watching."
He stepped forward.
"Hey, fraud," he said. "A while ago, you reeked of demonic energy. Why don't I feel a trace of it now?"
Guangdu panted, his chest tight with panic. If he couldn't stop this man now, it was over. Everything was over.
In desperation, he snatched a handful of dirt and flung it at Goi's face.
Let it be ugly—so long as I win…
But Goi was already five steps back, having evaded the dirt flung toward his eyes. From that spot, he drew his bronze gladius in a single motion and swung.
"Cleansed!"
The shout rang out, followed by a golden arc of energy—riding the wind like a crescent moon. The dust Guangdu had flung was caught in the gust and flung back into his own face, laced with searing force.
He was thrown backward, sprawling across the earth like a broken idol.
Silence fell. Only the waterfall dared to speak now.
Goi stood still, scanning the dumbstruck followers. Slowly, he lifted his bronze gladius, holding it level with his eyes. The polished blade reflected the scene—confused believers, a fallen false god, and…
"There you are," he muttered. He turned toward the dog—Bitkong.
The docile pup suddenly charged, sprinting with impossible speed. As it neared, its form shifted, twisted, expanded. By the time it lunged, it was no longer a dog but a monstrous fox monster, its fangs bared, claws slashing.
Goi parried effortlessly. The creature missed and bounded into the crowd, seizing a follower and hurling the man at Goi like a doll.
Goi sidestepped, fluid and unbothered, and slashed again.
The fox grabbed another follower, shielding itself with the body.
The golden arc tore through them both.
Wounded now, the fox demon shrieked, "You're a devil! You'd harm humans just to get to me?"
Goi scoffed. "Using people as shields, and I'm the devil? You think that trick still works?"
The fox looked around—its followers now stared at it in horror.
"A demon…"
"A beast…"
The scent of human hatred filled the air.
Desperate, the fox seized two more followers and flung them. Then it turned and fled, soaring up the waterfall toward its hidden den.
Almost there.
It looked back—and froze.
Goi was already airborne, gladius raised.
"Cleansed!"
The final crescent of golden energy cleaved the air.
It passed through the fox—and its power vanished with it. It fell, limp, from the sky.
By the time it hit the water, it was no more than an ordinary fox—silent, breathless, sinking into the depths of Woonrak Falls.