Chapter 18

Chapter 18
## Chapter 18: Ghost Fleet Onslaught

Trying to overcome these monsters with nothing but raw strength was a losing strategy from the start.

I guided the point of my polearm with fluid motions, absorbing as little impact as possible while parrying their strikes away.

“A long-reach weapon really shines in a brawl like this.”

Managing a crowd of foes wasn’t particularly taxing. You just had to maintain the proper interval—lunging to pierce a specific vital or sweeping in a wide arc to keep the mob at bay.

The true irritation was the environment. On the narrow, cluttered deck of the vessel, the shaft of the spear constantly clipped against the rigging and railings.

“Fine then…”

It seemed I needed to eliminate one quickly to secure a secondary option. I flared the Paradox Flame at the tip of my blade and locked onto a shambling corpse that was sprinting toward me.

“I’ve got your number, you rotting freak.”

High above on a mast that creaked as if it were seconds from collapsing, a waterlogged corpse discharged a damp matchlock rifle. The lead ball clipped the edge of my spear and veered off, shattering the cranium of another undead soldier nearby.

Thick, forest-green slime sprayed from the jagged hole in its skull. It was a truly revolting display.

“I’ll be taking that.”

I lunged toward the one with the ruined head, choked up on my grip, and let the Paradox Flame roar as I struck it repeatedly. In a heartbeat, its frame disintegrated into ash under the heat.

Capitalizing on the chaos, I snatched the rusted cutlass from its failing grip. With the spear in my right hand and the blade in my left, I began to clear the deck.

“Phew.”

I stole a quick glance at Han Sang-ah, who had leapt over to an adjacent ship. She was holding her ground impressively well.

“She’s a fast learner.”

Though her movements were still a bit unpolished, she was implementing the tactical advice I’d given her earlier. Seek the immediate kill. A silver glint flashed as her sword cleared the sheath, claiming the head of a corpse in one clean motion.

I extended a hand wreathed in obsidian fire, melting the face of a pouncing spirit, and barked out a command:

“You’re overextending! Refine your output!”

She needed just enough force to overpower and decapitate—nothing more. Unlike my situation, Han Sang-ah had to be meticulous with her limited energy reserves.

I could see the effort in her eyes, but she was still bleeding off too much power with every swing.

“Understood.”

“Or failing that, just max it out and cleave through the whole group!”

Learning to throttle her power could be a lesson for another day. Right now, it was better to simply broaden her swing and take out multiple targets simultaneously.

“Oh.”

I found myself genuinely surprised. Han Sang-ah, who had hesitated for a split second after my shout, chose the harder of the two options. A perfectly measured strike cut through a ghost attempting an aerial ambush.

Her energy distribution was significantly more efficient than just moments ago. I intercepted the incoming waves of dead men and spirits with sharp, rhythmic parries, feeling a quiet sense of respect for her growth.

She was the type of student who absorbed every word like a sponge.

“…”

Han Sang-ah’s gaze shifted toward me. And then…

“Well, look at that.”

She was attempting to mirror my technique—specifically, the way I was neutralizing the momentum of the corpses’ swings.

Every strike has a trajectory, and along that path, there is a specific moment where the force is at its absolute peak.

If you can read the movement the second it begins and intercept it before it reaches that peak, you can turn a devastating blow into a harmless graze with almost no exertion.

“Stop trying to run before you can walk!”

I admired her drive, but this wasn’t something she could just replicate on a whim.

Without the heightened sensory perception required to time it perfectly, forcing a mimicry of that style would only lead to a grave injury.

At my reprimand, Han Sang-ah bit her lip and immediately ceased the imitation, returning to the fundamentals I had shown her.

“Stick to what you’re practicing now. Don’t try to innovate until you’ve mastered the basics.”

With those words, I finished purging the remaining entities on the deck, vaulted over to the next vessel, and resumed the slaughter.

Deflect, evade, strike first. By maintaining that rhythm, I waited for the smallest openings to plunge my weapons in, returning the walking dead to their rightful state.

“…”

By the time the ships were cleared of hostiles, Han Sang-ah looked visibly annoyed. While she had cleared a single ship, I had already decimated three.

We converged to finish off the final vessel together.

“Keep that momentum going.”

Han Sang-ah tightened her grip at my encouragement.

“I appreciate the pointers.”

“The world is full of people who wouldn’t listen even if you begged them to.”

She countered softly,

“Hardly anyone at the academy bothered to teach me. Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

“What are you on about? An academy is literally a place for instruction.”

What was the point of being there otherwise? Han Sang-ah replied,

“They claimed it damaged their pride because I surpassed them too quickly.”

I sensed the hidden challenge in her tone and let out a sharp, incredulous chuckle.

“Don’t tell me—you actually think that by listening to me, you’ll eventually overtake me?”

“I’m a very quick study.”

Right. Most people would call that having a high aptitude.

“She’s almost cute.”

I nearly felt the urge to give her a condescending pat on the head. For her to even stand on my level, she’d have to live three lifetimes and keep every memory from each one.

“It’s not going to happen, so don’t lose sleep over it.”

“That answer makes me feel rather pathetic.”

It was simply the reality of the situation. Even if Han Sang-ah learned every secret I possessed, the gap would remain. With the ghost fleet neutralized, we returned to our transport.

“Are you staying with us?”

The pilot swallowed nervously as I addressed him.

“I won’t compel you to stay.”

I understood the sheer terror these civilian contractors were feeling.

“We’ll stay. No—we have to see this through.”

With that grim determination, the engine hummed back to life. Tsushima was looming through the haze. The Talisman Drawing Method I had inscribed on the hull was still pulsing with power.

“We’ll contact you once the objective is secured.”

Even if more ghost ships appeared, the warding should allow them to escape back to Geoje Island to wait for our signal.

“How long will the operation take?”

I began offloading our gear and shrugged.

“To be honest, I have no idea.”

I had my own internal deadline, so I intended to move fast, but a Grade 2 Erosion Core was a massive undertaking. The internal geography would be far too vast for a concrete estimate.

We had brought enough rations for a month, so we’d aim to finish by then. If it took longer, they’d have to make a supply run.

“Understood. We’ll be on standby.”

The maritime personnel returned to their ship and pulled away. Han Sang-ah and I stood alone, staring at the fog-drenched silhouette of Tsushima Island.

“Should we establish a perimeter first? We could use that warding technique again.”

“Yeah, we need a secure base of operations.”

And unlike our time on Gyodongdo, we weren’t planning on wandering aimlessly.

“This is Hitakatsu Port.”

A small lodge stood just a short distance away. It was perfect for moving supplies quickly, and the furniture inside was likely still usable. We designated it as our headquarters.

“Is it possible to put that ward on our weapons?”

I shook my head. “Pointless. The Talisman Drawing Method requires exact proportions. If the dimensions are off by even ten percent, the power drops by half.”

While Han Sang-ah hauled the crates, I finished painting the warding on our new home.

By the time she was done, the protection was active. I stood in the silence, watching the mist that crawled across the island.

“They know we’re here.”

Low, guttering sounds drifted through the fog. Something was circling us. There was no way to count their numbers yet.

Not every spirit made a sound. Tsushima—or Daemado, as we knew it—had become a kingdom for the restless and the dead.

“No utilities… but the network is still up.”

Hunter-spec phones used satellite uplinks in these dead zones.

I sent a brief message to the Association President’s private line—*Available?*—and then hit the call button.

— Hunter Yoo Chan-seok.

“Apologies for the unannounced call.”

I didn’t have a grand reason for calling. My previous encounter with the man hadn’t exactly been friendly.

“I’ve touched down on Tsushima.”

— Yes, the reports mentioned you took a contract. Rescuing some stranded boatmen, was it?

The surveillance on me was clearly working; he was getting live updates on my location.

At this very moment, Yoon Sung-hyun was likely receiving the same intel.

“That’s just the cover story.”

That’s why I’d framed it as a rescue mission rather than a Grade 2 Core expedition.

— Cover story? What are you getting at?

“I’m here to close the Grade 2 Erosion Core on Tsushima.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as I said it.

— You’ve got quite the ego, boy.

To him, it must have sounded like a joke. A rookie claiming he could solo a Grade 2 on his second outing.

“I’m giving you a heads-up. I figured that once the core is gone, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to exploit.”

I pushed past his skepticism to make my point. This was the part that mattered.

“Tell me, do you think Japan still holds any real authority over Tsushima right now?”

The real question was: was the ground I was standing on still considered Japanese territory?

— …

Obviously not. No power, no infrastructure, total evacuation—it was a graveyard. No one lived here, and no one visited. Japan had effectively surrendered the island.

The culprit was the Grade 2 Erosion Core that had taken root.

“From my perspective, Japan is barely keeping their own cities from falling.”

Five Grade 2s, two Grade 1s, and a sea of Grade 3s.

They were begging Korean firms to send hunters just to keep their capital standing; they didn’t have the resources to worry about a distant rock like Tsushima.

— So what? You think Korea should just take it?

“Just the suggestion of it would give Japan plenty to complain about.”

But those complaints wouldn’t carry any weight. Japan’s abandonment of the island was their own choice, not the result of a takeover.

Moreover, Korea held the cards as the regional power now.

“If I destroy the Grade 2 Core here, what standing does Japan have to demand it back?”

They could scream all they wanted, but Korea would have a very strong counter-argument. If the administration played hardball, Tsushima might officially become Daemado again.

— The government doesn’t particularly care about one small island right now.

“Exactly. It’s a bargaining chip to force more concessions out of them.”

And a man like the president? He definitely had the right contacts to make that happen.

— And if you die trying?

“Then you haven’t lost a thing.”

I wasn’t a fan of political maneuvering, usually. But this wasn’t about being a politician. I was doing the dirty work; he was just collecting the dividends.

Real politics required showing your face. Besides…

— What is your price for this?

I didn’t actually want anything from him in exchange for the tip.

“Nothing. Korea and Japan have a… complicated history, as you know.”

Japan rarely made a fuss about Dokdo these days. They knew that poking that particular bear yielded nothing.

But the decades of resentment and the constant territorial bickering? Every Korean carried that history.

If I could use that deep-seated national pride to my benefit, I’d be a fool not to.