Chapter 12

“I’ve heard the news.”

Three days had passed since I fell asleep.

As I’d seen, Dong Baekwoo and the squad members who’d joined the search were dead.

The Squad Captain who’d been struck down had also died.

Yoo Hyungin would have died if it had been even a little later.

Even Yeon So Cheon—no, Cheon Eujin—was said to be in poor condition.

The same was true of me.

From the blood pouring out of my back and thigh, I’d lost too much.

I’d only barely regained enough strength to wake, but the truth was, I had slept straight through three days.

I only lived by sheer chance. It had been truly dangerous.

But now, a problem had arisen.

“...I killed the Mountain Ghost and that man Pungyeon? Me?”

That I was the one who’d saved everyone in that crisis.

No—strictly speaking, it was me, but not me.

“How did this happen?”

I immediately turned to the old man.

The cause of this outcome was clearly him.

If not, then there was no other explanation.

[Hmm? What are you talking about?]

“I’m asking why things turned out this way.”

Suddenly being called the Sword Saint’s successor, these blue eyes, and not even remembering how the Mountain Ghost had died.

When I pressed him on this, the old man replied with a bland look:

[Did you not ask for my help?]

“...What?”

[You asked me to help, so I did.]

“......”

At those words, I recalled the last moment.

[Shall I help you?]

At the critical instant, the old man had asked me that.

And my answer then—

“Yes... Please, help me.”

I hadn’t had a choice.

Beside me, Yoo Hyungin had been dying, and before us, the Mountain Ghost was closing in to kill us.

I’d said it like a drowning man grabbing at straw.

And now this was the result?

“This is the outcome of that?”

[It was resolved, wasn’t it?]

“...Resolved?”

Was this really what you called resolved?

“What exactly did you do? What could you possibly have done to make things turn out like this?”

When I pressed him on what he’d done, the old man answered.

“You entered my body?”

Possession.

The old man claimed he’d possessed me and moved my body himself.

It was an absurd explanation.

“Possessed me...?”

I had never experienced such a thing.

At least, not in my previous life.

Ah—I had heard of it, though.

That such things happened to those whose divine spirit was weak.

In my past life, my grandmother had said: when a man’s spirit is low, ghosts can easily take his body.

But I had never experienced it myself.

I had never been so weak as to be vulnerable to it.

And yet—

“...Damn.”

I had suffered it now.

And to this old man, no less?

“Then... what he said was true? Did I wrong him, thinking otherwise?”

The old man had explained it.

If he had really used my body to resolve things, then everything he’d said was true.

That he’d given first aid to Yoo Hyungin.

That the one who’d saved a dying Hyungin was none other than myself.

He said he had poured out my energy to stem the bleeding and kept him alive.

And then, when I woke, I had grilled him for not mentioning Hyungin. No wonder he’d been put out.

“...Anyway.”

I frowned slightly and looked at him.

“How did you do it?”

[Hm?]

The old man gave a questioning look, but it was something I wanted to know.

“I’m third-rate at best.”

Even if he possessed me, how could a body like this kill a pinnacle expert?

Did possession come with some massive boost in inner strength?

With that faint hope, I asked in a careful voice.

[What a dreamer you are.]

The old man screwed up his face and told me:

[I had to scrape along using that tiny bit of inner strength you had, suffering for it. And you think your inner strength increased?]

Apparently not.

A shame.

Which meant...

That he had killed pinnacle experts using this weak body of mine.

How was that possible?

[How else? Because I’m extraordinary and more extraordinary still.]

“......”

The self-praise was overwhelming. I barely held back a grimace.

It sounded arrogant, but the truth was, he wasn’t wrong.

Because of him, I was alive with eyes open.

[Hmph.]

Perhaps disappointed at my lukewarm reaction, he showed a trace of regret.

[You don’t seem all that amazed.]

“It’s plenty amazing. I just don’t show it outwardly.”

[No, it’s different.]

With certainty, he shook his head.

[You know who I am. That’s why you’re reacting this way, isn’t it?]

“...‘More than expected,’ you said. That’s a bit insulting.”

[Boy. It seems you already know who I am.]

“......”

He had hit the mark. I closed my mouth tight.

[Isn’t that right?]

“Tch.”

Yes.

The reason I could stay relatively calm was because of who he was.

Two pinnacle experts struck down through this third-rate body.

The fact that this ghost appeared so vivid. The state of my eyes. The information I’d learned upon waking.

Put together, it was obvious.

But still—

“I only wish it weren’t true.”

I only wished I were wrong.

Because if I was right, this was someone I absolutely did not want to be entangled with.

And yet.

[So then—who do you think I am?]

That old man asked with mock innocence. Or perhaps with full awareness.

“......”

Should I answer honestly, or lie?

I hesitated a beat.

“...Yoo Cheongil, the Sword Saint. Former Alliance Leader. Once called the World’s Greatest.”

In the end, I spoke the truth.

There was no way a lie would pass here.

“That’s who you are, isn’t it?”

[Heh, heh, heh.]

The old man burst out laughing.

[Yes. That’s right.]

His blue eyes flashed as he said:

[I am Yoo Cheongil.]

“......”

Fuck.

I clenched my jaw against the sigh trying to break out.

[Look at that face. Seems you’re not very pleased.]

“Not at all.”

[‘Not at all’...?]

“Ah—slipped. My tongue ran away from me.”

I was so annoyed I couldn’t even control my mouth.

So it was true.

I stared at him.

Wild white hair. A towering frame. And those shining blue eyes.

The Sword Saint of the Blue Moon Sect.

Yoo Cheongil was right there.

The historical figure. The man Central Plains revered above all, its greatest warrior and hero.

And yet—

“To me, he’s nothing but a curse.”

Rather than joy, only irritation.

Such was the existence of the World’s Greatest to me.

Especially when—

“He’s shackled me so I can’t even refuse.”

At that moment, a low hum rose—

Wooooong—!

In my dantian, beneath the navel, I felt an alien current.

I grimaced.

“...Why did you do this?”

The internal art flowing through my body was no longer the Bang family’s art.

It was another.

The Blue Moon Sect’s core internal art.

The Blue Moon Heart Art.

[It seems to have taken root well. Not bad.]

“Not bad?!”

A new internal art.

He had no idea how horrifying those words were.

An internal art, once trained, could never be replaced unless the dantian was destroyed.

Yet another power now filled me, and my body wasn’t wracked with backlash.

Why?

Because—

“My original art is gone.”

The Bang family’s internal art, which should have been rooted in my dantian, was erased. In its place, the Blue Moon Heart Art.

How?

The old man said curtly:

[What else? I erased it and replaced it.]

“You erased it? Erased an internal art...?”

It was madness.

[You can’t hold both. So I erased the old one and put in the new.]

“How...? How could you erase it in the first place?”

Erasing it should have meant inner energy clashing and crippling me into a husk.

[Why not?]

“Because it’s impossible, that’s why.”

[Then it’s simple. If it’s difficult, you just erase it cleanly.]

“......”

I pressed my hand to my forehead.

Goddamn, what a line. If it’s hard, do it well. Of course. Fuck.

Fine. Say he managed it somehow.

But—

“Why force the Blue Moon Heart Art into me?”

[Didn’t you say you’d accept anything?]

“...So this was what you wanted?”

[Not so much what I wanted as what was necessary.]

He scratched his ear casually. Infuriating.

I wanted to punch him.

But worse still—

“If you were going to erase it, why not erase everything?”

Because a faint trace of my old art remained.

Not enough to clash normally, but enough that if it overflowed, it would explode.

A bomb in my dantian.

[Heh. Seems I left a trace behind by mistake.]

A mistake?

Bullshit.

This was no mistake.

It was a leash.

An ever-present threat of backlash and deviation. A death sentence.

[Don’t worry, boy. Traces can be erased too. If you don’t like it, I’ll even erase what I put in.]

“...Are you joking?”

If it were that easy, he wouldn’t have done this in the first place.

[You’re overcomplicating it. If you can’t do it, I’ll do it anytime.]

“......”

Ha.

I laughed bitterly. He was saying he’d erase it all once I’d done what he wanted.

So I asked, face twisted:

“When?”

[Well... when you’ve finished everything I’ve asked of you, perhaps?]

Back to the first condition.

[And don’t worry. It won’t easily clash. Not if you keep training the new art.]

Such comfort.

The leash was fastened tight.

“Why did it have to be the internal art...”

The Bang family’s art was gone.

Not that I mourned it. It wasn’t anything great.

The Blue Moon Heart Art, though—one of the greatest of all.

And taught by the World’s Greatest himself.

On paper, it was far better.

But too many witnesses had seen it.

Everyone thought I was a hidden disciple of the Blue Moon Sect.

Which led to the obvious question:

“...Why am I suddenly called your successor?”

[Ah, that.]

The old man answered lightly.

[I told that boy myself.]

“What?”

He’d told Cheon Eujin?

Ah—when he possessed me.

“...Why?”

[No reason. I just felt like it.]

“Bullshit.”

[Boy, you just said that out loud.]

That sly old man.

This wasn’t whimsy. This was tightening the leash.

Even in these few exchanges, I could tell.

He wasn’t just a brute. He was cunning.

Perhaps all of this—

From the moment he realized I could see him, to now—

Perhaps he had been arranging it.

Which brought me to the primal question:

“What do you want from me?”

What did he want, going this far?

[What I want, hmm...]

“You died more than ten years ago of illness. Why appear now, to me—”

[Who said I died peacefully?]

“...What?”

[Who said I died of illness?]

“That’s what the Alliance officially announced... ah.”

I stopped mid-sentence.

The look in his eyes was enough.

Shit.

[My death was no natural one.]

Not peaceful.

Which meant—

“Murder...?”

The World’s Greatest, killed by someone.

I swallowed dryly.

“Then why did the Alliance announce otherwise...?”

Cold crept through me.

Ordinarily I would’ve walked away before it got this far.

But it was too late.

“...So you want revenge?”

If this was true, the implications were staggering.

Entangling me in this—he might as well kill me outright.

[Heh. Would I ask such a terrifying thing? You said it yourself—you wouldn’t take revenge jobs.]

“Yes. I said that.”

Whew. Thank God.

At least it wasn’t revenge.

[Forget that. Just become the World’s Greatest instead.]

“Yes. That’s easier than—wait, what?”

[And along the way, become Young Lord of the Blue Moon Sect as well.]

I froze mid-nod.

“...Elder. What did you just ➤ NоvеⅠight ➤ (Read more on our source) say?”

What did he just casually declare?

My eyes trembled as I stared at him.

My blue eyes, his blue eyes—identical.

When our gazes locked, an unfamiliar pounding rose in my chest.

Thump.

My heartbeat quickened.

[Boy.]

He called me.

[Have you ever seen the Blue Moon?]

I didn’t answer.

Because I knew he didn’t mean the moon in the night sky.

[If you don’t know, then learn. It’s the name you’ll have to bear.]

I wanted nothing less than to know.

But—

Those words would stay with me for years.

Because of that unlucky entanglement with a dead Sword Saint—

Because of that cursed man—

I would one day be called the World’s Greatest.

****

The next day.

I hadn’t slept a wink.

After hearing all that, my mind had churned until morning.

“God... I’m exhausted.”

It wasn’t because the old man’s stories were entertaining.

It was because they were too heavy. Too unsettling.

I simply couldn’t sleep.

I’d heard far, far too much.

Even a single line should have sent me running, but I’d heard them all, one after another, through the night.

It left me nauseous.

My head ached from thinking too much, and my stomach roiled.

But it was just nerves.

My body was intact.

A week earlier, I would have vomited for real.

But now I couldn’t.

Woooong—

I circulated my energy slightly to check.

Yes. It was clear.

“...My realm has risen.”

From third-rate to second-rate.

I had actually advanced.

Though more forced upward than earned.

The work of that damned old man, Yoo Cheongil.

What had he said?

“That my realm was in chaos, so he ‘tidied it up’ a little”?

I’d been speechless.

So this was something you could just raise.

Second-rate. I’d thought I’d die a third-rate. Well, thanks. You bastard.

“Ha...”

I sighed deeply.

Isn’t it good? Yes, it was good.

But—

“Hff... Huff...”

It wasn’t purely good.

[Good! You’re doing well!]

The blue-eyed old man cheered as I trained, trembling.

My limbs quivered.

My breath was ragged, my stamina at its limit.

Yet I had to move.

[That’s right. The body shows its worth only when driven to its limits.]

Because that damned old man was watching with those blazing eyes.

“Fuck...”

That morning, he’d dragged me to the training yard and loaded me with sandbags.

“...Damn it.”

What kind of primitive method was this? My arms shook under the weight.

—So this is the training left by the Sword Saint...?

—Indeed. He looks different already.

—Those aren’t ordinary sandbags. Someone said they saw him filling them with iron.

—Iron?! No way...! For someone so young to endure such harsh training...

I grimaced at the whispers behind me.

“Bullshit. It’s just fine sand I picked out carefully.”

From the moment the rumor spread that I was the Sword Saint’s successor, people’s eyes had changed.

The way they looked, the way they whispered.

“Damn it. They never cared before.”

And now this.

It was absurd.

Even more absurd that I was doing it.

All because the old man threatened to kill me if I didn’t.

“It’s not because I was tempted by his promise.”

To make me the World’s Greatest.

That wasn’t why I was doing this.

And then—

“...Young Master Bang.”

A voice called as I groaned under the weight.

I stopped, exhausted, and turned.

Cheon Eujin.

“Forgive me for interrupting your training... but may I speak with you a moment?”

“...If I refuse, will you leave?”

“...What?”

“Joking.”

He looked so stricken I gave permission.

Talk. Of course it was about what he’d tried to say yesterday.

I looked at him.

“Then let’s return to the chamber and finish yesterday’s conversa—”

“Ah, Young Master Bang...”

Cheon Eujin quickly stopped me.

I gave him a puzzled look.

“Before that...”

“Yes?”

“The Branch Leader said... a guest has arrived asking to see you.”

“...A guest?”

I tilted my head.

When I asked, Cheon Eujin answered:

“They are from the Namgung Clan.”

At those unexpected words, my brows furrowed.