Chapter 67

[Have you been well.]

Evening was settling in.

I was lying there, staring at the ceiling, when Yoo Cheongil popped out of nowhere and said it.

I frowned up at him in silence.

“...Where did you go and why are you only showing up now?”

He’d vanished since midday and only reappeared after sunset?

I stared, incredulous, and he gave me that signature smile.

[I took a little stroll around the area.]

“A stroll, says the man who flies around because he’s dead.”

A stroll, my ass.

I clicked my tongue, and he snickered.

[I had something to look in on. I didn’t go far—no need to worry.]

“Worry? What a terrifying thing to suggest.”

As if I had nothing better to worry about than this old man.

If anyone worried today, it should’ve been him worrying about me.

He has no idea what I went through while he was gone.

“I nearly worked myself to death and you breeze in late like it’s nothing...”

[Hey now, I had my own business, all right?]

“You just said you went for a stroll.”

[That was a figure of speech. I was doing tremendous things.]

“What things?”

[Se-cret~]

“......”

He prodded his cheek with a finger, all sunshine.

My stomach lurched.

If only he’d died.

He already did, but three more times would be nice.

“...Would’ve been great if you’d been torn limb from limb and died.”

[I can hear you.]

“I said it so you would. Please do hear it.”

Tch.

I clicked my tongue and sat up.

As I pushed myself upright, he gave a thin smile and asked,

[So—did you handle it well?]

“...How do I look to you?”

[What else? You’re alive, so I’d say you did.]

“......”

A vicious way to check. If I hadn’t, I might be dead?

‘...Fair.’

I can’t deny it. That talk with the Poison King had that much fear in it.

Maybe it’s a miracle I’m alive.

It still doesn’t feel real.

‘How did I even do that?’

What nerve did I have, standing in front of one of the Five Kings Under Heaven.

It ended well; if it hadn’t, I might have died on the spot.

Sometimes I realize I’m not exactly normal.

What lunatic plays bold in front of the Poison King—

Inside the Tang Clan, no less.

[Anyway, you’re saying nothing big happened.]

He cackled without a clue about my insides. I truly hated the sight.

“...Nothing big, my ass.”

[Hm?]

“Old man.”

I sighed and told him.

About what happened with the Poison King.

****

[Hmm.]

After hearing me out, Yoo Cheongil floated in midair, propping his chin in his palm.

I kept it short and measured. Just the essentials.

That the Poison King needed Full Moon and the Sword Saint’s successor—and that a ghost clung to his back.

He tilted his head, thinking.

[A ghost...?]

“He seemed to despise you, to put it mildly.”

Just by his expression, you could’ve called him a wicked ghost.

Yoo Cheongil looked faintly surprised.

[That’s nonsense.]

“What is?”

[Who under heaven would dislike me...?]

“......”

Has he gone completely mad.

I stared, half in contempt, and he laughed big.

[A joke. Don’t get so stiff.]

“It had better be.”

If he meant it, I’d overturn the table right now.

[Hrmmm. Who he is—I won’t know till I see him myself.]

He stroked his beard.

[But if that fellow truly made Full Moon like he said, I know who it is.]

“...Who?”

I asked, careful. He curled a smile at me.

[Come on. You already know.]

“......”

[Your guess will be right.]

I bit my lip.

“The Poison Sovereign?”

[Correct.]

He nodded, and I let out a breath.

So it really was the Poison Sovereign.

‘I thought surely not.’

So it’s really him?

I grimaced.

Who was the Poison Sovereign?

The former Tang Clan Head, and one of the heroes who fought the Demon Cult in the War of Righteous and Demonic.

His poison was strong enough to blanket an entire region.

In the matter of slaughter, his presence was more ferocious than the Sword Saint’s.

And at the same time—

‘He was a god-touched craftsman.’

It wasn’t enough that his poison arts reached the heavens; he was also a master of metallurgy.

All weapons of the Tang Clan are created in a place called Iron River.

Weapons forged there receive one of four grades.

Bronze, Silver, Gold, Special.

Even Silver earns you talk of a famed blade or precious piece across the Central Plains.

Anything the Poison Sovereign made was graded at least Special.

As for how high that was—

‘They said just carrying a Gold-grade could bridge a whole boundary of cultivation?’

That’s an exaggeration. Realms aren’t kennel names, and a good weapon won’t just patch that over.

Well, of course—

‘I’ve never actually seen a weapon like that, so what do I know.’

Even so, it’s not something you swallow easily.

Anyway—

‘He was a craftsman who could turn out such weapons with ease.’

A man who touched heaven not only in poison but in other fields.

That was the Poison Sovereign.

Except—

‘You’re telling me that ghost is him?’

The ghost glaring at me behind the Poison King.

If Yoo Cheongil is right, that was the Poison Sovereign.

‘I did hear he died.’

What was it—five years ago? I’d heard the news that the Tang Clan’s greatest star had fallen.

Hard to miss. One of the last sky-high masters in the Central Plains, and the only man in the current Tang Clan who could forge true Special-grade weapons, was gone.

That alone was enough to set the realm abuzz.

[He swore he’d live till he smeared dung on the wall in senility, and he died anyway. Should’ve lived straight. Heh-heh-heh.]

Yoo Cheongil burst into laughter at the news that the Poison Sovereign had died and become a ghost.

...They seemed to have been close; is that laugh appropriate?

After laughing a long time, he wiped the smile and looked at me.

In that instant—

A chill crept up my spine.

One look into his blue eyes and I broke out in gooseflesh.

[So—the man’s secret archive surfaced?]

“...More or less.”

I turned my eyes aside to hide the flinch and answered.

[Hrrrrm.]

He sank briefly into thought.

A beat passed—

[Good.]

“Excuse me?”

He beamed.

[I already planned to strip a few things off the Tang Clan. We’ll take that along with the rest.]

“......”

He said it so boldly I went slack-faced.

How can he say that like it’s nothing.

Strip the Tang Clan? I stared, thrown, and asked,

“Where do we start—and how?”

[......]

I needed to know.

I asked in earnest, and he gave me a slightly odd look.

[Kid.]

“Yes, sir.”

[Most people don’t start by asking that—wait, did your way of addressing me change again?]

“You imagined it.”

He made a weird face.

Then he gave a small shake of the head and went on.

[I’ll think on it first and tell you later.]

“Just tell me now. Better if I know and prepare. There are no secrets between us.”

[Mm.]

Fair point. He nodded like he agreed.

[All right. I’ll say it—so you tell me your secret—]

“I’ll hear it after you decide.”

[Fine.]

We reached an amicable settlement.

‘Terrifying old man.’

I couldn’t afford to relax around him.

What he’d just said was tied to last time.

He meant what I used on those Heaven-Breaking Palace men.

Killing them and pulling the ghost out of the fresh body to extract information.

Even after seeing that, Yoo Cheongil hadn’t asked me a single question.

He just looked once—and smiled, chillingly.

That was worse. I’d almost prefer he grab me and demand, What was that.

But he didn’t.

‘He doesn’t care what I have.’

Whatever my circumstances, it didn’t matter. He didn’t particularly need me to speak.

That was his stance.

Same now.

He was using it as his pretext.

I know you have secrets.

I won’t pry, so don’t pry either.

With a pretext that solid, there was nothing to ask.

‘...Tch.’

I swung my legs off the bed. No point staying.

It was about time. Do Hyeong and Cheon Eujin were probably already there; I should go too.

“Then stay here. If you follow and something happens, it’ll be trouble. I need to step out.”

[Hm? Where are you going?]

He looked at me and asked.

I pulled on my clothes and said,

“...A welcoming banquet. What else.”

I had to go do something exquisitely unpleasant.

****

I shrugged into my outer robe and stepped out. A Tang Clan attendant was waiting.

“An honor to greet you.”

“Not at all. I’m in your care.”

We exchanged light bows and set off.

I followed, thinking.

‘Come to think of it, where did the Sword Emperor go?’

Chu, playing at coachman.

Where had he gone?

I don’t think I’ve seen him since he parked the carriage.

‘It’s convenient not seeing him, but it’s also seriously irritating...’

Here and gone—it tugged at my nerves.

‘What is he, really.’

I still didn’t know.

The whole way here I’d watched, quietly testing and judging—but I still didn’t know his intent.

‘Will I figure it out if I see more?’

Who knows. Honestly, I’m not confident.

I’d prefer nothing happen and nothing need discovering.

Thinking that, we walked until a building came into view ahead.

It looked much larger than Blue °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° Moon Hall.

Compared to Blue Moon—maybe like a training hall used by the whole sect’s fighters?

Lanterns blazed along the building, and I could feel many presences inside.

As we neared, the attendant spoke.

“Young Master Bang of the Blue Moon Sect is entering.”

Good lord. Did he have to say it that loud? It was a little embarrassing, but I didn’t show it.

Creeeak—!

The doors opened and the interior came into view.

Quiet yet bright.

Long tables were lined with food.

Rolling my eyes across the hall, I saw Do Hyeong and Cheon Eujin seated near the center.

There?

I saw a single empty seat just by looking.

I started toward it.

Walking, I scanned the room.

‘Why go to the trouble of this...’

I just wanted sleep, but they insisted on a welcoming banquet.

Skipping would be bad form.

I eased in and was about to take the empty seat—

Crash—!

Something shattered.

My head turned toward the sound, naturally.

“...Ah... No—!”

A finely dressed lady stood there, staring at me with a shocked face, hands trembling.

What...?

I looked, wondering what this was.

“Ba—”

Ba?

“Brother Bang...?”

“...Pardon?”

At her words, the noisy room fell silent in an instant.