Episode 25
Yes, after falling to earth, I had believed I could easily ascend again whenever I wished. I thought I could stop the rain just as easily.
After all, I still possessed the Yeouiju, and I had a human, albeit with limited abilities, assisting me.
But even as my powers gradually returned… I couldn’t connect with the heavens.
“I made a mistake during my ascension and created a hole in the celestial reservoir, causing unwanted rain to fall upon this land.”
The rain continued relentlessly, threatening to submerge the entire world. I tried to convey the urgency of the situation to the heavens, but there was no response.
“Please stop the rain falling upon this land. I am powerless to stop it on my own.”
I pleaded and pleaded, but the rain showed no signs of abating. It was incredibly frustrating…
***
What becomes of a dragon that fails to ascend? And how can the rain caused by their failed ascension be stopped?
—Are there any similar cases recorded in ancient human texts?
Hanin was curious.
Joon-wan’s office was filled with books on folklore, indigenous beliefs, and historical records of legends.
‘A dragon that fails to ascend, a rain-bringing dragon…’
Before delving into his own knowledge, Joon-wan searched for information on dragons falling from the heavens.
Imugi, dragons that failed to ascend. Ancient people called any creature that aspired to become a dragon but failed an Imugi.
‘Or Miri, Bari, Imooki, Isimi, Yulmugi…’
They weren’t as powerful as dragons, but they were often considered guardians of mountains and waters.
According to legends, the most common Imugi were large snakes called “Daemang,” but carp, centipedes, earthworms, clams, and even horses could become dragons.
‘How do they become dragons?’
As Hanin had said, it usually required an immense amount of time and cultivation.
‘Cultivation…’
Like humans dedicating years to their studies to pass the state examination, often compared to the “Deung Yong Mun” (Dragon Gate).
‘Yeouiju, dragon orb…’
Through their cultivation, like a pearl forming within an oyster, they would develop a Yeouiju, an orb containing immense power. This was a prerequisite for ascension.
However, paradoxically, there were cases where possessing too many Yeouiju prevented ascension. For example, the Imugi of Cheongsubada (Clear Water Sea) in the “Woncheongangbonpuri,” the origin myth of the goddess of Woncheongang River.
“The Imugi of Cheongsubada cultivated for over three thousand years and created three Yeouiju. However, it couldn’t ascend, despite possessing more Yeouiju than most dragons. Frustrated and desperate, it encountered Oneuli, who would later become the goddess of Woncheongang River, and asked her for a favor.
‘If you ever cross this sea, please find out why I can’t become a dragon even with more Yeouiju than others.’
Oneuli, wanting to repay the Imugi for helping her cross the sea, sought an answer and returned with it.
‘Your excessive greed, your possession of three Yeouiju, is what’s preventing you from ascending. Give the other two to someone else.’
The Imugi, enlightened by her words, gave two of its Yeouiju to Oneuli and ascended to the heavens with only one.”
Then did all Imugi with one Yeouiju ascend to the heavens?
Not necessarily.
If calling an ascending dragon something else could cause it to fall back to earth, wouldn’t the reverse be possible too? There were legends where simply calling an Imugi a “dragon” transformed it into one.
The “Hyeongsan River Legend,” about the transformation of a Silla prince into a dragon during the reign of King Gyeongsun, was one such example.
“During the reign of King Gyeongsun, the last king of Silla, the crown prince, desiring to become a guardian dragon and protect his declining kingdom, prayed to the heavens and transformed into a large snake. However, one more thing was needed for him to become a dragon. Someone who didn’t know his true identity had to call him a dragon.
He lay down on a busy road, hoping someone would call him a dragon, but everyone was too afraid of his appearance.
Then, a child named Yugeum, riding on his grandmother’s back, saw the prince and exclaimed, ‘Look, there’s a dragon!’ And the prince instantly transformed into a dragon and ascended to the heavens.”
Joon-wan sighed, pausing his research on Imugi legends.
Reading the same texts felt different now that he knew dragons actually existed.
‘Anyway, Imugi themselves aren’t monsters or evil spirits.’
He knew that better than anyone. Just look at the earthworm, no, the Imugi living in his home.
‘She’s worried about the creatures of this land drowning in the rain caused by her mistake.’
In fact, they had served as guardian deities or nature gods, protecting the kingdom, until they were replaced by Buddhism and Confucianism. Like the Silla kings who transformed into dragons to defend their land, or the mountain gods of various regions.
‘But if they fail to ascend…’
In Korean folklore, Imugi were more often thwarted by human malice than aided by human kindness.
Then what happened to Imugi who failed to ascend?
He already knew the answer, even before delving into the texts.
‘Hanin already called herself a Jiryong… but does she still deserve to be called a dragon after failing to ascend?’
They usually became monsters that harmed humans.
It was understandable.
It was like someone diligently preparing for a civil service examination, only to be prevented from taking the test due to someone else’s interference, their dreams shattered.
‘They would be furious, of course… They would want to kill the person who ruined their chances.’
Joon-wan felt a pang of guilt, realizing he was the “someone” in this scenario.
‘They would go mad.’
It was a situation that would drive anyone to despair. And for Imugi, that despair manifested as a raging fire within their bodies.
‘Imugi who fail to become dragons either harm or kill humans, or… become Gangcheol.’
Their fiery rage scorched the land for miles around, drying up rivers and even the rain clouds in the sky, causing droughts and violent hailstorms.
“Gangcheoljichu (强鐵之秋),” meaning “Autumn where Gangcheol has passed is like spring.” The idiom originated from this phenomenon.
Imugi, who controlled water, consumed by their fury, transformed into fiery dragons, their nature reversed. People called these transformed Imugi “Gangcheol.”
There were as many records about Gangcheol as there were about Imugi. For example, the “Seokgolsa Temple Legend.”
“There is a temple called Seokgolsa on Unmunsan Mountain in Miryang, Gyeongsangnam-do.
Long ago, there was a senior monk at the temple, highly respected for his virtue and wisdom. The head monk, jealous of his reputation, used magic to transform him into a Gangcheol.
He was filled with resentment, but he suppressed his anger and continued his Buddhist practice. However, the following year, his request to ascend to the heavens was denied by the Jade Emperor.
‘You are already a Gangcheol.’
Enraged, he rampaged, destroying the surrounding crops and hindering the barley harvest every year.”
And then there was the “Imugi of Cheonjabong Pond Legend.”
“There was a mountain with a peak called Cheonjabong in Changwon, Gyeongsangnam-do. The Gangcheol that lived on the mountain often harmed people and devoured livestock.”
And the account of a Gangcheol sighting in Cheorwon, recorded in the “Haksanhakeon.”
“The wind and hailstorms brought by a Gangcheol in Cheorwon caused severe damage to the region.
With nowhere else to turn, the magistrates of three counties in Cheorwon joined forces. They piled up firewood by the pond where the Gangcheol lived, set it ablaze, and pushed it into the water.
The water boiled, and a creature resembling a foal, enveloped in clouds and mist, soared into the sky. The rain and hail stopped.”
Most stories about Imugi who failed to ascend had unhappy endings, especially those involving Gangcheol.
People believed that Gangcheol were responsible for the phenomenon of autumn, the season of bountiful harvest, turning into a barren spring.
Perhaps, like Hanin’s existence, some of these records were based on actual events.
“…”
Joon-wan closed the book, his head throbbing, and lay down on the sofa by the window. He could hear the rain outside.
‘A being whose existence is a disaster…’
It wasn’t Hanin’s fault.
It was simply her misfortune to have been seen by a human during her ascension. And now, the rain wouldn’t stop in Yongdam City.
‘What should I do if she transforms into a Gangcheol, even if she’s harmless now?’
What if she couldn’t ascend and her resentment festered, turning into an unquenchable fire?
He remembered her words.
“About the rain. I’m actually trying my best to stop it before I ascend. It wouldn’t be right for the creatures of this land to suffer because of my mistake.”
She seemed genuinely concerned about humans.
‘She’s not harmful now. But what if, in the future, she becomes a walking disaster, regardless of her intentions? What if she becomes an evil dragon, harming people and crops?’
His mind raced, his unease growing.
The more he researched, the more he found stories about subjugating Gangcheol or troublesome Imugi who couldn’t become dragons.
‘What’s the point of reading these?’
He sighed deeply.
‘I can’t do that to her. It’s my fault she’s in this situation.’
He didn’t want to consider such an ending. His goal wasn’t to banish or subdue Hanin, but to help her ascend to the heavens.
Whoosh!
The rain continued to fall relentlessly, as if it would never stop.
At this rate, the city would soon be submerged, its drainage systems overwhelmed.