How many times had I died?

I gave up counting around the time it passed three thousand.

He’d told me to block a single exchange, just once, and I’d failed to block it three thousand times.

No, that’s not right.

It wasn’t three thousand.

‘I stopped counting after that, so it’s definitely more than three thousand.’

I got sick of counting and just gave up remembering.

If I bothered to tally it up, it was probably twice that.

Maybe not even just twice.

I’d died so many times it scared me to think about it.

It had been so brutal I’d given up even trying to remember.

“...Haa... fuck...”

The curse slipped out on its own. It had been so long since I’d spoken that even my own voice sounded strange to me.

“I am so sick of that bastard.”

GRRRIND-!

My teeth ground together on their own. You could still talk in the spirit-dream, so I was sure a voice should reach him, but—

“What the hell is with that guy.”

Talking needed someone on the other end. I couldn’t just keep mumbling to myself forever, so most of the time I had to keep my mouth shut and let time pass.

If you asked why I did that even though there was someone in the spirit-dream—

‘Why do you think.’

Because that bastard didn’t talk.

‘Why the hell won’t he open his damn mouth.’

I kept trying to talk to him, hundreds, thousands of times.

More than half the time he killed me before I even managed to speak.

And on the rare occasions I did manage to get a word out, he killed me without answering.

‘He was insane.’

Huge frame and yet a body gone thin and gaunt.

And those dead eyes—how could something that lifeless still hold killing intent that vicious.

Seeing as he never spoke, you could have just called him a beast and been done with it.

“Haa... damn bastard. Lunatic. Piece of shit.”

I kept grinding my teeth and cursing. Whoever’s younger days that was supposed to be, I just couldn’t let it slide.

“Trash that needs to be torn apart. Should burn to death. Step on shit in the street and—”

[......I can hear every word.]

Right in the middle of me really getting into the curses, someone cut me off with a disgusted look.

“—roll in it, nice and deep.”

Not that it made me stop talking.

[.......]

At my words, the ghost—Yoo Cheongil—looked at me with a sour face.

I looked back at him and said,

“What.”

[Did I not say I can hear you?]

“And? So what. It’s not like I was talking to you in particular.”

I loaded my voice with irritation. At that—

[Not in particular? You know perfectly well that guy is my younger self.]

“Oh reeeally?”

I answered in the most brazen tone I could muster.

“No wonder he was such a bastard. I kept wondering who he took after.”

[Ah, I see how it is. You were saying it all specifically so I’d hear, weren’t you?]

Of course.

I’d been dying to curse him out.

Now that we’re on the subject...

“Old man, are you actually out of your mind?”

[Hm?]

“How could you throw me in with something like that?”

[Something like that... I’ll say it again, that was my younger—]

“You’re a shameless, dogshit excuse for a human being.”

[You can just curse at me directly.]

“You fucker.”

[...This lunatic really did it, huh?]

I couldn’t not say it. Really couldn’t.

“How was I supposed to deal with that, exactly?”

It had taken thousands of times.

Several times more than in the first spirit-dream.

And more than that—

‘It took that many just to block a single strike.’

It wasn’t even a real exchange.

It was one single blow.

And I’d needed thousands of attempts just to block that.

[Ahem.]

Even Yoo Cheongil seemed a bit embarrassed at my complaint, clearing his throat.

[...When was that... I must have been just over twenty at the time.]

“...That thing was?”

So that murderous scarecrow-looking freak was only a few years older than me?

He’d been so utterly worn down it was hard to guess his age, sure, but still.

That was going too far.

Which meant—

‘So this guy was already a monster like that at twenty.’

Barely twenty years old.

Same age as Tang Yeran, younger than Poison Dragon.

I’d never once thought either of those two were frightening when I watched them.

But the sight of Yoo Cheongil had made raw fear flood up in me.

And that was twenty?

If he really had been twenty at the time—

‘Then why did he look like that?’

What was with that wasted body? At fifteen he’d been that hulking brute, and by twenty he’d withered down? It made no sense.

I was just about to ask when—

[Still... you did it in the end, didn’t you.]

Yoo Cheongil spouted something shameless.

“Oh, yeah? As long as the result’s good, nothing else matters, is that it?”

[Well, I mean. If the result had been bad that’d be one thing, but... in practice, you—]

“You fucker.”

[I did not tell you to curse that time.]

“Then say things that don’t make me want to.”

At that, Yoo Cheongil protested like he was the wronged party.

[Hey now, who told you to do it in one go? Kid, you knew it too, didn’t you. I set the spirit-dream up so you could break it whenever you wanted.]

He wasn’t wrong. Unlike the last time, I’d known instinctively that I could break this spirit-dream at any time.

I’d kept going anyway.

Why?

‘Because my pride was on the line.’

I was pissed. I’d stepped in like I meant to see who would win, and I didn’t want to tuck my [N O V E L I G H T] tail and run.

So I clung on with everything I had.

I only bailed out right when my mental strength finally shattered.

And I had plenty to say in my defense, on this part at least.

“Doing it over and over wasn’t going to solve it.”

[.......]

Yoo Cheongil fell silent at that. Because I was right.

“...If the opponent is using sword force, you can’t win just by repetition, can you?”

That guy—Yoo Cheongil at twenty—had used sword force.

That meant he was a peak-class martial artist.

And I couldn’t block that one sword.

Why?

‘Because sword force is stopped by sword force.’

And I couldn’t use sword force.

I didn’t have the means to block that sword.

In that case, what did I have to do to overcome that spirit-dream?

The answer was obvious.

‘I had to ignite sword force.’

I had to use it too.

I, who wasn’t even at the peak, needed to raise hardened qi.

By the standards of the Central Plains, that was absurd.

But—

‘I already knew the solution.’

I’d already seen it.

Back when I’d raised hardened qi with my own body, as a mere first-rate martial artist.

I still remembered the feeling from that time.

So from the moment I realized that bastard was a martial artist who wielded sword force, I understood why this spirit-dream existed.

Block a single strike.

That was what Yoo Cheongil had said.

But in truth—

‘It was “ignite sword force.”’

That was the right way to interpret it.

To escape the spirit-dream, I had to ignite sword force.

‘Blocking it only came after.’

If you couldn’t raise hardened qi, you got cut whether you blocked or not.

That was when I learned a sword could slice through you like tofu.

‘Fucking monster.’

Just thinking about it made me sigh.

I’d died thousands of those pathetic deaths.

‘...Still.’

There was at least one piece of good news.

‘I did finally pull it off.’

FWOOOOOOSH---!!!

Brilliant light bloomed at the tip of my sword.

I narrowed my eyes as I looked at the deep blue radiance.

What was the name of this technique again?

‘Radiant Moon Annihilation-Overturn, that was it, right?’

Unlike the First and Second Forms of Blue Moon Sword Dance, which were sword forms—

‘The Third Form is just sword force.’

All the Third Form did was bring forth that light.

Sword force poured into the blade.

I’d drawn it out myself. The color was truly beautiful, like it held moonlight.

The way it flickered was pure brilliance itself, but—

“......”

My gaze on it was fairly flat.

It had to be.

‘I’ve ignited this thing how many times now.’

I’d already grown used to it—and used to it again—in the spirit-dream.

Igniting hardened qi wasn’t the end.

I had to block a strike, and just because I’d raised sword force didn’t mean I could block his.

‘...Though thanks to that, my proficiency went up.’

My sword force was too weak and too slow, so it couldn’t stop his.

So, this time too, I just had to keep doing it until it worked.

And by the time I finally blocked that one blow and escaped the spirit-dream—

SSSSSSS--!!

Radiant Moon Annihilation-Overturn had reached a respectable degree of completion.

‘It’s strange.’

Training in the spirit-dream didn’t improve anything physical.

But—

‘My control over qi gets better.’

The way I used energy improved exactly in proportion to what I went through in there.

It was strange.

If that was the case—

‘As far as qi goes, this is the best training ground there is.’

A place where you could train endlessly.

If you used the spirit-dream that way, that’s what it could be.

[Hooh. Not bad at all.]

Right then, Yoo Cheongil smirked as he watched my sword force.

[Well? Didn’t I tell you I was right?]

“About what?”

[Did I not say it? Not to focus on emitting the light itself.]

“Oh, that.”

That was what he’d said before I entered the spirit-dream. He’d spit it out as “advice,” or whatever.

“...I don’t know.”

[Hm?]

“I didn’t pay it any mind anyway.”

[And what is that supposed to mean...]

Having gone out of his way to give advice only for me to say I ignored it, Yoo Cheongil looked dumbfounded.

[Then what did you do?]

“What do you mean, what. Like I told you last time, vague stuff doesn’t work for me.”

All that talk about light.

About the moon.

None of that meant anything to me. So I just went with the straightforward answer.

‘I already knew the method.’

The state my body had been in when I’d first raised Radiant Moon Annihilation-Overturn—

The feeling from that time.

I remembered all of it.

So the answer was simple.

‘I just had to keep at it until it worked.’

If you kept grinding away at it, it would eventually work.

When you knew how but still couldn’t do it, it was just because you weren’t used to it yet.

So I kept at it until I was used to it. Until it worked.

“That’s all it took.”

[.......]

At my words, Yoo Cheongil looked like he’d lost his tongue.

[...Hrmm... well. Fine.]

There was a sense of frustration there, too.

He’d given me some cool-sounding advice, only for me to find a totally different path, maybe?

‘Well, what can you do.’

The old man and I just didn’t mesh.

WHIRR.

I turned the sword half a circle. The sword force scattered and the light died.

“Phew...”

A deep breath came out. The hardened qi in my dantian had been drained like a basin dumped out.

‘This is hard.’

Manifesting sword force was even harder than I’d expected. The amount of qi it consumed was absurd.

Just imagining trying to maintain this kind of flow in real combat made cold sweat prickle at my back.

‘Same as always—I just have to keep at it until it works.’

This was no different.

I still didn’t really know what a “proper martial artist” was, but in the end they were all the same.

‘Until it works.’

It was simple, the most fundamental conclusion.

‘For now, I’ll just be satisfied that I managed to ignite sword force.’

Even that alone was enough to choke me up.

I’d lived as third-rate trash, and now not only was I first-rate, I was raising sword force.

‘...Damn.’

Life really was something you couldn’t figure out.

At this rate...

‘What if I really do end up as the Zenith Under the Heavens?’

Just like Yoo Cheongil had said to me—

Maybe I really would climb to that seat.

As that ridiculous little hope briefly crossed my mind—

[Kid.]

Yoo Cheongil must have read it on my face; he grinned and opened his mouth to speak.

KWANG-!!

“Huh?”

The training ground door suddenly flew open with a bang.

“You little bastard—!!”

I turned toward the door with a puzzled look. The one who appeared was none other than Tang Cheonil.

Poison Dragon.

“...Young Master Tang...?”

Why the hell was he suddenly here? And cursing?

I stared, wondering what his problem was.

“It’s you—!!”

Tang Cheonil strode up to me and grabbed me by the collar without warning.

“What the hell is this.”

Had he lost his mind?

“It has to be you. It is you.”

“...How about you let go of that? Let go if you want to talk.”

The hand gripping my collar tightened. The pressure grew more annoying.

“What did you do. What the hell did you do to make her act like that.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me... Just let go first and—”

I needed to calm him down.

A guy who’d been hauled off half-dead yesterday shouldn’t be rampaging around like this.

So I figured I’d pry him off and then talk.

“The pretty face, is that how you lured her? Well, naturally.”

Tang Cheonil jutted his lips out at me.

“I hear your father back in Liaodong is quite the expert with women. Looks like you’re no different.”

“...What?”

[Oh dear.]

At his words my body went still.

Beside me, Yoo Cheongil reacted with a sound that practically screamed “uh-oh.”

Even then, Tang Cheonil didn’t stop talking.

“Even so, a wretch like you dare—”

[Looks like somebody’s in need of a little education. Kid. Help me out a bit, will you.]

Before Tang Cheonil or Yoo Cheongil could even finish their sentences—

FWOOOOSH--!!

Light burst from my body.

“Kh!?”

Blindsided by the flare, Tang Cheonil squeezed his eyes shut.

In that instant—

THUD-!!

“Guhh!?”

My fist slammed into his solar plexus. His body flew backward and smashed into the wall.

He bounced off and crashed to the floor—

CRUNCH-!

—and before he’d even finished falling, I stomped his face into the ground.

“You fucking bastard, seriously.”

“Grrrgh...!”

“I try to let things go and you keep acting like I’m some kind of idiot. Useless piece of shit. What did you say?”

I pressed down harder with my foot.

“Ghhh—! ...Y-you...!”

Tang Cheonil tried to haul his body up somehow.

Just then, I lightened the pressure and lifted my foot a little.

The block disappeared, and with nothing holding him down, the effort he was making made his head jerk up on its own.

I picked that moment to whip my foot across his cheek.

PAAAK-!

“Gah!”

His face snapped sideways from the kick.

Blood spilled out and stained the floor.

I didn’t stop at that.

I drew my fist back to smash it into his face again, but—

“You insignificant wretch—!”

Maybe he’d gotten his senses back; Tang Cheonil twisted his body and dodged.

The distance between us opened in an instant.

Judging by the way he moved, my last hit had landed just right—his cheek was flushing angrily red.

His eyes were filling with malice.

“Despicable cur. How dare you launch a sneak attack...?”

“A sneak attack? You bastard, grabbing my collar out of nowhere was the sneak attack. The double standards on you, damn.”

“Doub... what?”

“Forget it, you idiot.”

Haa—

I let out a sigh and ran a hand through my hair.

“Pathetic little shit...”

I’d been forcing myself to put up with him because I didn’t want this to get messy.

And he kept scratching at me.

“I really was trying to let it go.”

I had wanted to.

The last thing I wanted was to end up at odds with Tang Clan.

But—

“Dragging my family into it is just plain bad manners, don’t you think, Young Master Tang, you fuck.”

That bastard had crossed a line.

[...Kid. Has your tongue always been this foul—]

“If you’re old enough to know better, you should act like it. Did you eat your sense along with your poison or what.”

CR-R-RRACK.

I flexed my fingers, making the joints pop.

“Is that what they teach you in Tang Clan?”

“...!”

At the mention of Tang Clan, veins bulged in a cross on Tang Cheonil’s forehead.

“You—! How dare you talk about—!”

He was so mad I could see the blood vessels standing out in his eyes.

I let out a short, disbelieving laugh at the sight.

“Why? You can drag my father into this, but I’m not allowed to bring up your household?”

I’d at least had the decency not to drag Poison King into it.

Apparently even that kindness wasn’t enough; Tang Cheonil’s face twisted as he spat back at me.

“...Are you seriously comparing your pathetic little family to Tang Clan?”

“It’s not a comparison, it’s—ah, forget it.”

Not worth explaining.

Talking to a brute was my least favorite kind of work.

There was only one right answer in situations like this.

“Shut the fuck up and pick up a weapon.”

No helping it.

One way or another—

“You just need the shit beaten out of you.”

That bastard clearly only understood a beating.