Chapter 53

“What are you.”

The words and cadence were familiar.

Even the scene was the same as last time.

So white—so utterly white I couldn’t tell directions.

White filled the world like snowfall, dazzling.

A sword was in my hand, same as before.

And—

“That bastard.”

The Moon-Eyed youth staring at me—the one holding that strange great saber—was the same one as last time.

As if popping in out of nowhere weren’t enough, he was the one who killed me.

But—

“Again?”

Same as the last spirit-dream, he’d appeared again. Not a hair different from then.

“I asked what you are.”

He even spoke the same line he’d used. Back then, and again now.

It felt like repetition.

“Looks like you don’t intend to answer. It doesn’t matter.”

Yes. Exactly like that.

“...”

Realizing it raised gooseflesh along my back.

Which meant this spirit-dream was replaying its beats.

Which meant the next line would be—

“You’ll be an enemy anyway.”

“You’ll be an enemy anyway.”

—and then—

“—and next will definitely...!”

Szzrk—

With a skin-crawling note, my sight caved again.

Just like before, my neck parted and my vision receded.

As my body and neck drifted apart and my consciousness thinned, a strange relief welled up.

“I’ll wake up.”

Even if I died again, as long as I could wake from this shitty dream, fine.

That’s what I thought.

“What are you.”

“...Huh?”

The voice hit as soon as I came to, and my eyes went wide.

I grabbed my neck in a panic.

The neck that had been severed was back on.

“What...?”

I definitely just died.

“Why?”

How had it ended up like this?

I couldn’t make sense of it. Not only was I not waking—

“I asked what you are.”

Was I experiencing the exact same moment again?

I couldn’t hide the tremor in my eyes as I stared ahead.

The Moon-Eyed youth looking at me was exactly as he’d been the first time. As if nothing had happened a moment ago.

“What... is this...”

What the hell was this situation.

“Looks like you don’t intend to answer. It doesn’t matter.”

An overwhelming déjà vu crashed through my body.

Alien, and chilling.

“You’ll be an enemy anyway.”

Szzrk—

My neck came off again.

“...Kh—!”

I coughed a ragged breath and staggered. As if I’d never died, my body was whole again.

“What are you.”

The same line again.

He stared at me with those cold Moon Eyes.

At that flat, rough aura, I bit my lip.

“I asked what you are.”

I wiped my mouth and barked back at the question I’d heard countless times.

“You answer first. What the hell are—”

My vision went dark.

“What are you.”

“...”

“I asked what you are.”

We had suddenly jumped back to the very beginning. I understood. I’d died again just now.

This time, I hadn’t even noticed the moment of death.

“Huff... huff...”

Something in the repetition had shifted. I still died—but it had shifted.

“What would you do with the answer.”

I threw the words out in a different tone from before.

“...”

And the youth’s behavior shifted too.

“That’s true.”

He nodded like something had clicked.

A different response than before.

The problem was—

“That’s not the point.”

Szzrk.

It didn’t change the outcome.

“What are you.”

“...Fuck... me...”

I staggered and sank down. What was it. What did he want from me?

What did he want, to shove me into this hell.

After that, nothing changed.

Szzrk.

My neck went.

Szzrk—!

Cut again, and again.

By the time it passed ten and neared twenty—

“What are you.”

“...”

—I finally realized.

Maybe not the first day, but now—he had no intention of letting me out.

My mind frayed from the chain of deaths.

What should I do.

My eyes rolled, thoughts spinning hard.

Where was the breach in this place.

What did this spirit-dream want.

Under the dread of dying, I worried it and worried it again.

“...”

A thought flashed, and my gaze cooled.

The fear of death had been in my flesh for a long time—but I’d lived close to death already.

People always die. But because I knew that wasn’t the end, as always—

I looked for a way to move forward instead of sitting down.

“Looks like you don’t intend to answer. It doesn’t matter.”

Clang—!

This time it wasn’t the wet slice; it was a harsher, ringing note.

“Hm?”

He looked puzzled. I had blocked his great saber.

Grkk—!

“Ghk!”

Pain crushed a groan out of me. Blocking it seemed to have broken my arm.

My sword wavered. With the broken arm it sank, slowly.

In that instant—

A blade filled my eyes.

“What are you.”

“...”

Back to the start.

So I died after all? Right. I died again. I’d blocked exactly once, then reached death.

“Fuu...”

I let out a long breath, like I was emptying everything inside.

“I asked what you are.”

How many times had I heard the same line? I didn’t know. I didn’t bother to count.

The tally up to now was meaningless.

From here on, it was One.

Swaying, I pressed my brow and whispered evenly.

“...Left. From high down... blocking is useless.”

“Looks like you don’t intend to answer. It doesn’t matter.”

At the sound, I dipped my head.

Fwoooooosh—!!!

A rough wind scraped by overhead.

“Hm?”

A curious response. I thrust the sword I held.

Target: the top of his foot.

Thud—!!

The tip buried in the ground. I’d gone for his foot, but it was no longer there.

Crack.

Something broke.

“What are you.”

I nodded at the ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) line.

So it was my head that broke.

“Scrap that.”

I erased the plan at once. Going for the foot was a nonstarter.

“Then what now.”

Second attempt.

Only the second.

How many repeats will this take?

Is there a fixed number? Or is it until it ends?

If there’s an end, when is it?

“Hm.”

I didn’t know. But I did know.

“They won’t let me wake so easily.”

Even if I somehow woke, they wouldn’t stop the games.

Which meant there was something they wanted from me after all.

“That?”

That guy gripping the great saber.

What he wanted from me.

“...”

I lifted my sword. Utterly vile. If you’re going to do it, could there be a worse nightmare?

“Looks like you don’t intend to answer. It doesn’t matter.”

Thankfully, if it’s repetition, that’s a different story.

As ever—

“...Huuu.”

I was always good at memorizing.

****

Seventeen.

“What are you.”

That was how many times it took to definitely discard “blocking” as an option.

If I blocked, something would break or get cut off and become useless.

Then should I try evading?

“What are you.”

Forty-one.

I discarded evasion.

That was what I’d concluded as I tested.

Eighty-two.

Skritch—shrak—!

I managed not just to block the great saber, but to shed it aside.

Riding my blade’s flat, his great saber shot skyward.

Pins-and-needles—my forearm and even my shoulder ached, but nothing broke.

A success.

Only—

Szzrk—!

—I couldn’t stop the second cut.

“What are you.”

One hundred forty-two.

I found a way.

Whoom—!

I stirred my energy and drew it into my eyes. The old man’s “blooming of the Moon Eyes.” Using it finally gave me a method.

It helped even with shedding the first strike.

“I can see it.”

What had he said was the true virtue of Moon Eyes?

I remembered a thing the old man said one night.

“It doesn’t end with seeing the line of a blade.”

“If you see and then react, you’re late. Nothing dumber or lazier than responding after watching.”

Then what, I’d asked, and Yoo Cheongil said—

“It isn’t about seeing. It’s about feeling.”

“So your body must always be ahead of your eyes.”

I understood.

Indeed—

“Watching and responding is slow.”

As if I weren’t slow already—thinking and moving on top of that was hopeless.

Which is why it took a while.

“Interesting.”

Seven hundred sixty-two.

He added a new line.

And I shed the second strike.

That was how many repeats it took for my body to adapt to the world Moon Eyes showed.

I didn’t move from seeing. I moved from feeling.

It did not suit me.

But there was no other method.

Adapt. That was always my only option.

Shed the first.

Slip the second.

Then he says it’s interesting.

And—

He resets his stance.

Familiar.

And it was exactly the same posture I’d seen before.

“Moon Wave?”

The sword form that raises the moon.

Blue Moon Sword Dance, First Form.

Moon Wave.

He was about to unfurl it.

“What now. Where do I step—”

Schrak—!

“What are you.”

“...”

Mm. Right.

I laughed.

“What a colossal pain.”

I really wanted to quit.

Maybe I should change methods from the ground up.

A shame to throw away what I’d memorized, but it felt necessary.

Three thousand five hundred two.

“No.”

Back to square one. I tried various methods and got to the third beat, but after a long loop, it was square one.

“The efficiency is crap.”

Especially the other methods—unlike the first line I’d chased, their value for effort was abysmal.

Not that they were useless.

“There’s something off.”

I found a habit of his. The fights were too short to spot easily, but there was definitely something wrong.

“His wrist is off when he swings.”

Unstable might be the word. I could feel the discomfort in him.

I spent nearly two hundred repeats checking it wasn’t just my mistake.

“Hm.”

I rubbed my neck.

Second time I’ve died this many?

Not since a vengeful spirit torqued me around in my past life—this was a first in this life.

“This is getting bad.”

My mind was hitting the wall.

The gooseflesh on my skin and the drum in my chest told me so.

“...Hmmm.”

“What are you.”

“I’ve got a question.”

I asked. I’d tried it a few times already; I knew.

“What.”

He answered. Which meant he wasn’t some mindless loop.

“Why do you use it like that.”

“What do you mean.”

“Moon Wave. Is there a reason you insist on using it that way?”

“...”

I was honestly curious. The Moon Wave he used was... something else.

No—different from the one I knew.

Seom Seonggyeong’s too—something about it grated.

“From what I’ve heard, if you’re going to use it, you should commit—”

“I see.”

He cut my words.

“You’re from the Blue Moon Sect. I suspected when I saw the Moon Eyes—so that’s it.”

“...Huh?”

I cocked my head.

“Those bastards.”

Killing intent poured off him.

And—

Szzrk—!

“What are you.”

I had to throw away a count.

“...”

So that’s a nerve I shouldn’t touch. I added it to the variables and moved again.

****

Three thousand seven hundred four.

“As I thought, it’s off.”

Parsing his Moon Wave over and over, my certainty grew.

“What is it?”

Why did he use it like that?

To the eye, it was much faster, more accurate, more precise.

The fundamentally faithful form Seom Seonggyeong used? You could call it that.

“But is that ‘fundamental’ correct.”

I couldn’t accept it.

The Moon Wave Yoo Cheongil had shown through my body, and the way I followed it—something was different.

How to put it—

“No root.”

It felt impoverished.

Who was I to call that insane sword weak? And yet—

To me, it was.

Compared to that neat, clean blade, what Yoo Cheongil showed had been sharp and rough.

Was it simply that difference? It didn’t feel like it.

I wanted to know. For no clear reason, I did.

And at four thousand fifty-two—

“...I see.”

I understood a little. Why that sword rubbed me wrong.

The reason was—

“Because it’s imitation.”

Yoo Cheongil had said—

The Blue Moon Sect’s meaning is to bring the moon up in the sky by way of the sword.

But—

“That sword wasn’t drawing the moon or raising it.”

It was imitating.

That was what chafed.

“Why?”

Why should that bother me? I knew nothing of the Blue Moon Sect, nothing of this sword.

“I’m just forcing myself through.”

And yet I disliked that he was only imitating the moon.

It wasn’t even funny.

“Am I worn out?”

My mind was ragged to madness.

Falling into this useless play of feelings—truly.

“You idiot.”

Most useless thing is emotional play. I learned it to the bone in my last life—and here I am again.

“Long way to go.”

It made me laugh.

I raised my blade on a slant.

Skree—KRAK—!

His great saber scraped my blade’s face and shot up.

I no longer needed to memorize. It was carved into my body.

“Hm?”

Before his reaction, I lifted the slanted blade with both hands. The tip angled slightly down.

My breath didn’t stay perfectly even—softly flowing, then surging.

My waist held center, light as possible, the energy merely flowing with the swing.

After the snack pantry, the old man had said—

“Doesn’t memorizing every little piece and using it that way feel cumbersome?”

I’d wanted to ask him instead—

“There are so many processes in a single motion—how do you use them without thinking.”

I couldn’t understand that.

How much meaning each part carries—how could I use it without knowing.

“If so, you shouldn’t have shown me.”

Why show me so much while possessing me, then tell me not to think?

What a rotten old man.

Sss—

“Y—!”

His pause lasted only a heartbeat.

He began Moon Wave again.

The moon rose.

And so did mine.

His moon was enormous.

So overwhelming my shabby energy couldn’t compare.

What kind of brute force was that.

Was I doing all this because I thought I could beat that?

The thought flickered—

—but my sword didn’t stop.

Because I’d already seen it done.

The old man had used my body to break another Moon Wave.

BOOOM—!

“...Hah!”

His great saber spun away.

His great moon collapsed into my small one.

“Should’ve fixed your wrist.”

I laughed at his empty upper body.

And I thrust.

ShaaAAAA—!!

My blade cut the air.

Empty air.

“...”

I froze in posture and stared ahead.

The man who’d been there had vanished without a trace.

I was frowning at that when—

“Ha-ha—”

A rough voice came from behind.

I turned.

In the same blank white, the blue-eyed old man stood with his arms crossed.

Yoo Cheongil.

[You monstrous brat.]

He was looking at me, smiling like a wolf.