Chapter 92

First-rate.

The realm that lets a martial artist be called a master by others.

It is about the time when the inner energy in the dantian truly begins to seep into the flesh.

At that point, the strength of the body stacks on and explosive growth becomes possible.

Because one can load more power into the cherished weapon one carries, one comes to be able to cut what could not be cut, to break what could not be broken.

That is the realm called first-rate, and yet—

—First-rate is the grave of the martial artist.

A saying that, paradoxically, also exists.

The reason is nothing else.

“The limit of talent, was it?”

A place a dullard can reach if he works his whole life.

That place is what is usually appraised as first-rate.

They say a dullard must train for decades and cultivate his mind to touch first-rate.

The reason the Seven are rated so highly now is, in the end, because they surpass even the pinnacle at a young age.

My smashing Little Azure Sword and earning a reputation that is a reputation in name only is the same.

“...That I seized a victory against a pinnacle martial artist.”

That alone could make a name resound.

In this world where realm and honor are everything to a martial artist.

“...I’m first-rate.”

That I became first-rate—on many counts, the feeling was new.

And in just a few months I went from third-rate to first-rate.

On top of that—

“...It doesn’t feel like I merely stepped into first-rate, does it?”

I don’t know well. But to call it the threshold of first-rate—something is different.

It’s a realm I haven’t experienced, so I don’t know well, but my intuition said so.

This isn’t just first-rate.

“Mm...”

I moved my body this way and that.

And I kept realizing it.

“Wow. Crazy. Why is everything this light?”

My body was too light, and the usual fatigue I felt was less.

I hadn’t slept a wink, and yet how could my body feel this refreshed?

It was truly to the point of wonder.

While I was marveling and kept moving my body—

[...What a hardcase.]

Yoo Cheongil, wearing a bizarre expression, was looking at me.

[Look at that hardcase.]

“Why are you picking a fight from morning.”

[In the dead of night you were in that state and didn’t let out a single scream—does that even make sense?]

It certainly hurt.

More than hurt—I thought I would die.

Unable to even scream, unable to breathe properly, I spent the night like that.

But—

“You’re the one who told me not to open my mouth, old man.”

When you told me to keep my mouth shut and endure—after I barely endured, what? That I’m hard?

I stared in disbelief, and Yoo Cheongil coughed dryly and spoke to me.

[Well... I didn’t think you’d actually do it.]

“...What?”

[Who knew you’d really not open your mouth just because I said not to. I was just messing with you a little.]

“Are you actually insane? You told me to keep it shut or the energy would fly off.”

I clung on because that energy was precious, and now what?

When I pressed him, Yoo Cheongil slightly averted his eyes.

[...Once the energy is stabilized, opening your mouth a bit doesn’t make it a problem. I do have that much ability.]

“...Old man.”

[Mm?]

“Do you hear a dog barking outside right now?”

[No? It’s quiet. Would the Tang Clan even keep dogs?]

“Right, probably not. None, right? Then what’s this sound.”

I said to Yoo Cheongil with my face tightly contorted.

“Ah, was it that your words were such dogshit that I misheard? Must be.”

[Oh...]

At my words, Yoo Cheongil clapped with an admiring face.

[This brat’s got some bite?]

“This damned old man, seriously...”

I exhaled a sigh and rubbed my face over and over.

Ah. I really want to quit.

Grinding my teeth, I held my temper down.

I could endure it somehow. The result was good.

Even if it infuriated me that I’d been played by that prank, I could allow most of it on the point that I’d reached first-rate.

“...First-rate, huh.”

It was a part I never thought I’d touch in my life.

At best, second-rate? If it ended up like that, I’d consider myself lucky—that’s what I’d thought.

“It actually happened.”

Before I knew it, I’d sensed it and touched first-rate.

A strange feeling came with that.

Touching a place I thought I’d never reach in my lifetime, an unknown ecstasy welled up shallowly.

I thought I didn’t cling to things like this.

It seems I had a greed I didn’t even know of.

“Tsk.”

Summoning up complicated feelings, I rose to my feet.

“I don’t think I even need to sleep.”

My body felt so good it made me wonder if it was okay to feel this refreshed.

It felt a waste to sleep.

Maybe I’d gone mad.

“...I want to train?”

Strangely, I felt like I had to train.

“Today’s schedule...”

I do have to go see the Poison King and the archive once more, but who knows when that will be.

If so, doesn’t that mean I can train until then?

Thinking of that, I burst into a laugh without realizing it.

“I really must have gone crazy.”

Of all things, to want to train.

If this isn’t going mad, what is it.

Training was something I always forced myself to do. Not once did I do it because I wanted to.

It was something I repeated by brute force, like finishing homework.

“...Strange.”

Am I just putting on airs because my realm climbed a bit?

Even with that thought, it didn’t feel entirely bad.

Feeling that way, I started walking.

Now that my mouth had loosened, there was a lot I wanted to ask the old man—

But right now I wanted to train, and nothing else came to mind.

So I stepped out of the quarters and walked, so focused

I didn’t notice that Yoo Cheongil was looking at me with a heavy gaze.

****

A small lamp that goes outside the building as if bewitched.

An old man watches it with somewhat grave eyes.

The blue eyes were glowing, and yet they looked blurry in some way.

Just then, as the old man was watching the youth depart—

[Yoo Cheongil.]

Another old man beside him, Poison Sovereign Dang Gyeon, spoke.

At the voice calling his name, the old man turned his gaze and looked at the Poison Sovereign.

[Explain.]

Dang Gyeon’s eyes were murderous. They looked brimming with yearning.

Seeing those eyes, Yoo Cheongil spoke.

[Explain what.]

[What you did just now—entering the boy’s body. Explain that.]

[Ah, that.]

The old man let out a faint laugh.

From the start, he knew Dang Gyeon would bring this up.

[It’s exactly what you saw. If you let the energy of the Supreme Great Rejuvenation Pill fly off, that’s a waste. So I lent him a bit of strength.]

Since his original realm was second-rate, absorbing all of it was impossible—

But I tidied it well and gathered it in the dantian.

And it was more than expected. Originally I thought he’d blow away half of it.

[That brat’s body was better than I thought.]

It was possible because of what Bang Sungyeon had labored at in days past. In truth, even the old man himself was surprised.

[He’s one hell of a hardcase.]

Bang Sungyeon is a hardcase.

It wasn’t for nothing the old man called him hard.

He wears a face that says he doesn’t want to do it and grumbles every day, but contrary to those words—

[He wrings his body out to a pitiful degree.]

If he trains, then until his body can no longer move.

No matter how hard it is, he makes no compromises with himself.

Even while staggering—if he could rise, he rose.

The moment he stops training is only when his body truly cannot operate.

It was relentless. Even if relentless, could one be that relentless.

The training method is indeed what I set for him—

But I set it expecting he’d compromise to some extent.

[...Who knew he would just do all of it.]

Bang Sungyeon carried out exactly what he’d been told.

With that flimsy body, he should not have been able to bear it.

Bang Sungyeon even pulled that off. Is he doing this because he obtained a fortuitous chance called me? Yoo Cheongil judged that wasn’t it.

Naturally so—

[He was always like that.]

Bang Sungyeon was the same even before he received the Blue Moon Heart Art.

Back in his third-rate days—

The old man had once seen how the brat trained.

At first he wondered why he trained in such a desperate way.

Had he gone through some upheaval? Is that why he’s doing this to change?

He’d entertained such doubts, but—

[He’s just that kind of brat.]

It’s not something like an upheaval.

Bang Sungyeon is simply that kind of brat.

A brat who lives so desperately it leaves even an old man dumbfounded.

With his own mouth he says he’ll live roughly, that he won’t go through troublesome things—

But that’s nothing more than a self-mocking refrain.

As the old man sees it, Bang Sungyeon is a brat who cannot live that way.

Which is why—

That is why the old man chose Bang Sungyeon.

It’s also that there weren’t options he could choose, but the old man judged this to be a fate for himself.

Which makes it all the stranger.

[Why on earth.]

Why did a brat like that stay at third-rate.

A question once heard only grew more out of joint as time passed.

Of course, if his entry into martial arts were late, that could be—

[But judging from the state of his internal art, that’s not it either.]

A solid ten years.

It shows the mark of being ingrained in the body since childhood.

And yet third-rate...? Naturally, if Bang Sungyeon were an extreme dullard, it would be understandable, but—

[That’s not it either.]

Bang Sungyeon is no dullard.

His self-perception seems a bit slow, but he is absolutely not a dullard.

If so, he should at least have touched second-rate.

[Hm.]

It’s a question. Something was odd.

Just as Yoo Cheongil was recalling that—

[...Then are you saying you can borrow the boy’s body?]

Dang Gyeon’s voice was heard, and Yoo Cheongil’s gaze changed at that.

[Ha.]

Yoo Cheongil laughed. In that instant, cold surged through the room.

[Let me say this, just in case.]

The «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» smile wasn’t a smile.

The torn-up corners of his mouth and eyes shining savagely.

Seeing that, Dang Gyeon flinched.

It was a face Yoo Cheongil would often make while alive.

[Don’t even think about laying a finger on him.]

When he was truly angry. Or—

When he’d met someone he had to kill no matter what.

That was the expression he wore then.

[That brat is mine.]

[...]

[Whatever your lingering attachment is—if you dare try to touch him, I will personally erase the Tang Clan from this earth.]

Erase the Tang Clan. At that chilling line, Dang Gyeon’s brow knit.

What can a soul that has already died do.

Knowing he can do nothing, Dang Gyeon still could not speak easily.

If it’s Yoo Cheongil—

If it’s that mad dog, he might really do it.

By whatever means.

[Tsk...]

Dang Gyeon clicked his tongue shortly.

[Who said I’d touch him? I only asked.]

Hearing that, Yoo Cheongil changed his expression again. Confirming it, Dang Gyeon continued.

[Then let me ask something else.]

[Speak.]

[Why did you bother to feed the boy the Supreme Great Rejuvenation Pill.]

[Hm?]

Hearing the words, Yoo Cheongil looked at Dang Gyeon again. His face said, what do you mean.

[Because it was there, I fed it.]

[You know that’s not what I mean. What I mean is—]

Dang Gyeon met Yoo Cheongil’s eyes and asked:

[The reason you forced it on him in a rush. That’s what I’m asking.]

[...Hmm.]

[It looked to me like you have a purpose, so I helped it along once—but was there a reason you had to do it now?]

[No wonder—you egged me on, so that’s why.]

The old man clicked his tongue and recalled the night’s business.

For once in a rare while, Dang Gyeon actually helped to get the Supreme Great Rejuvenation Pill into Bang Sungyeon.

So the bastard had his own thoughts.

And—

[Right. There’s something I need to use him for.]

The old man answered Dang Gyeon’s words plainly.

[Originally I meant to feed him more gradually.]

In terms of efficiency—at least first-rate.

It would have been right to raise him to about that and then feed it.

Right now, it couldn’t be helped.

Because I had to shove a fortuitous chance into Bang Sungyeon’s hands, even by force.

[Thanks to that it’s a bit of a waste, but the result isn’t bad.]

Even by my own judgment, I did well.

[At this level, it’ll do.]

Just at this level, he can be used.

While Yoo Cheongil was nodding, thinking that—

[You admit there was some thanks to me, then?]

Dang Gyeon spoke to Yoo Cheongil in a curious tone.

[Thanks? What thanks?]

[By my help the boy did eat the Supreme Great Rejuvenation Pill—are you not saying that.]

[Mm...]

It wasn’t exactly wrong. The problem was the reason he was talking in that tone now.

[So?]

You want something, don’t you. When Yoo Cheongil said that, having realized it, Dang Gyeon opened his mouth as if he’d been waiting.

[Then I have a favor.]

The instant he heard it, Yoo Cheongil furrowed his brow.

[If you mean to bring up what we spoke of before—remember I already gave you my answer.]

He spat a short warning.

It looked like he meant to bring up that possession he’d done for Bang Sungyeon, so he said it—

Even hearing that, Dang Gyeon didn’t stop.

[Just hear me out. It’s not bad for you either—no, you might even like it.]

[Hm?]

At those words, interest rose in Yoo Cheongil’s eyes.

“Not bad,” is it...

He showed a look that said he’d hear it, and Dang Gyeon laid out an explanation to Yoo Cheongil.

After hearing all of it—

“Ha.”

Yoo Cheongil laughed out loud.

“Hahahahahahaha—!!!”

A rough sound rang through the room.

After laughing for quite a while, Yoo Cheongil stopped laughing and—

[...You’re a madman too, after all. For someone who calls himself righteous—the way you think, look at you.]

It pleased him.

No—it more than pleased him; it delighted him to the core.

[Good. I can do at least that much.]

He was curious.

The reaction Bang Sungyeon would take when the situation broke open.

And the things that would happen in days to come because of this.

Yoo Cheongil looked forward to all of it.