After affixing the final talisman to the wall behind my head, Master Zhemungakju returned to the chair beside my bed and spoke.

“You may sit or lie down as you please. Just don’t fall asleep.”

“Ah, understood.”

“Good. Keep your wits about you.”

As if giving a final warning, Master Zhemungakju reached out and grasped my wrist as if checking my pulse.

He then pulled out a jade from his pocket, about the size of a child’s fist. Intricate patterns were etched on its surface. It seemed like another tool for temporarily harnessing natural energies, akin to a talisman.

Clasping it with his other hand, he slowly closed his eyes and began murmuring something under his breath.

It sounded like an incomprehensible spell, or perhaps a scripture I was not familiar with.

‘This is the real deal.’

I clenched my mouth shut, tense.

A soft whisper filled the room like fog. The atmosphere was clearly unusual. However, I felt nothing, which allowed me to maintain an air of composure despite the tension.

But then,

“…Ah.”

At some point, I felt an unidentified energy begin to circle around ‘that thing’ in my mind.

It didn’t touch it directly, but it was probing, inching closer.

So close that it felt as if it could reach ‘that thing’ at any moment.

Realizing this, an unsettling chill overcame me. My expression involuntarily hardened. Watching me, the overseer straightened his posture, as if prepared to approach at any moment.

However, Master Zhemungakju seemed completely unaware, his eyes remaining closed as he continued to murmur an indecipherable spell.

Time passed.

I couldn’t tell whether the time felt long or short as I endured the eerie sensation.

Finally, Master Zhemungakju abruptly opened his eyes. His expression was even more grave than before he touched my wrist.

The gleam in his eyes was almost eerie. He whispered a short word.

“…Heretic.”

Silence descended into the room. Master Zhemungakju added without hesitation,

“Yes, a spell from the heretics is cast upon you.”

He sounded utterly convinced.

Sitting before him, I looked at Master Zhemungakju in bewilderment. His keen eyes seemed to scrutinize every detail of my face. Yet, there was nothing unpleasant about his gaze.
“Was there something like a dark cult in the original work?”

The sudden emergence of a word he hadn’t even considered was shocking.

In strict terms, a dark cult could be seen as something akin to a fringe religion. Though not often discussed in daily life, if one were to search, it undoubtedly exists somewhere. Therefore, its mere existence wasn’t particularly surprising.

However…

Why it had anything to do with him was completely beyond his understanding.

“A dark cult’s magic, you say?”

The ambassador struck the door a few times and then strode in, asking. At the same time, as if the knocking had been some sort of signal, the master also opened the door and entered.

As they approached the bedside, Elder Jemun-Gakju squinted slightly.

“Well, I think we should discuss this outside…”

“Why? Should we be discussing such an important issue without the person it concerns?”

“What? No, I mean, telling the child about this…”

“It’s even more unsettling for the child if we’re muttering outside. If we’re examining him without explanation, at least give a proper one. My disciple also wants to know what issue he has and has asked for my help.”

Judging by how they interacted, it appeared that the Ambassador had some influence over Elder Jemun-Gakju. The Elder glanced at me, visibly frustrated.

He seemed to be asking if I really wanted to hear this. I promptly aligned myself with the Ambassador.

“Yes, I would like to hear it, Elder. I can’t accept that I don’t know about an issue that affects me.”

“Goodness.”

Elder Jemun-Gakju sighed faintly, finally giving in, and nodded.

So the three adults and I squeezed ourselves into this small room.

Elder Jemun-Gakju paused, seemingly to gather his thoughts, and then remained silent. My master, the Ambassador, and I all waited intently for him to speak.

Finally, after a moment’s pause, Elder Jemun-Gakju slowly opened his mouth.

“In other words, it’s a curse that allows one to control others, guided by the will of the sorcerer who cast the spell.”

Control?

I hesitated for a moment. A strange familiarity emanated from that word.

‘It can control according to the will of the sorcerer.’

Wasn’t the spell ‘Ha Hyun’ tried to use on his master at 18, and failed, of the same kind?

‘No, it’s not just the same kind…’

Isn’t it exactly the same spell?

As I widened my eyes, my master reached out and gently patted my arm. Confirming my expression, Elder Jemun-Gakju asked once more.

“Do you really want to hear this?”
“……Yes, it’s fine.”

I knew they were worried I might be deeply shocked. But instead, I felt gripped by the sense that I couldn’t afford to miss this opportunity.

A spell is cast on ‘Ha Hyun’ that allows him to control others.

Yet ‘Ha Hyun’ tried to cast the very same spell on his master when he turned 18, based on the original story.