“How was it.”

Night had begun to flow. Seated on the veranda of his quarters, the Moonlit Sword spoke.

The listener was, of course, his bodyguard and the Small Moon Unit’s commander—the Small Moon Commander.

“What do you mean, sir.”

At the reply, the Moonlit Sword gave a faint chuckle.

So slight a smile you could miss it if you blinked.

“Not like you. You already know the answer, don’t you?”

“...”

The Small Moon Commander fell silent. The Sect Master was right.

He did know what the question was.

He simply didn’t want to answer.

“You mean Young Master Bang.”

He was asking about the Blue Moon Rite held that day, and about the Bang Sungyeon they had seen then.

“How did you see him.”

The Moonlit Sword did not hesitate. The Small Moon Commander hesitated instead.

How should he answer? He considered it... but in the end only one answer rose.

“...He has tremendous talent.”

The Small Moon Commander conceded it. The young man possessed something far beyond what he’d expected.

And that much, the Moonlit Sword accepted as well.

How could he not.

“He’s eighteen, you said—so the youngest in Blue Moon Sect history.”

“...Yes.”

Yoo Cheongil, the previous Sect Master, had been twenty-three.

Cheon Hyein—called the youngest until just now—had entered the Small Moon Unit at twenty.

At eighteen, Bang Sungyeon was indeed the youngest.

And more—

“He even seized victory in the Blue Moon Rite. In a way, you could call it a more impressive feat than the Elder’s.”

If you recalled that Yoo Cheongil had beaten a Small Moon member at twenty-three, then Bang Sungyeon surpassed him.

And not a trainee, but an active elite.

Only—one thing caught in the Small Moon Commander’s throat.

“...However, had it not been Seom Seonggyeong, but Do Hyeong, the story might have changed.”

If the actual youngest had faced him, the board might have shifted—so he thought.

Do Hyeong was a special case even among current Small Moon members.

At that, the Moonlit Sword suddenly laughed.

“Commander.”

“Yes.”

“Even granting that, are you certain the result would have changed?”

“...”

The Small Moon Commander did not answer. The Moonlit Sword sipped his tea and added:

“At the very least, I’m not.”

“...Sect Master.”

“The sword he showed carried that much worth. You can’t deny it either. Can you?”

“...”

He shut his mouth.

At the same time, he recalled the sword Bang Sungyeon had drawn down—

The vertical stroke that fell toward Seom Seonggyeong.

Night Moon.

The second form of the Blue Moon Sword Dance, a blade that sets a moon above the night.

A cut with soul poured in—its presence so great it veils the foe’s sight.

They said that, in that moment, it feels as if the night itself falls over you.

And the edge that approaches in that gap looks like a crescent.

Thus the name Night Moon.

“It was, without doubt, a perfect sword—enough to brush that person.”

“...Sect Master, that’s a bit...”

“You think not?”

“The sword Young Master Bang drew was superb, but no matter how superb, it cannot be compared to the Elder.”

To the Sword Saint, of all people.

How do you set a youth not yet twenty on the same line as the one who saved the world and became the Blue Moon Sect’s emblem?

‘Even if he truly is the Elder’s successor.’

That alone the Small Moon Commander could not accept.

He truly could not—but—

‘...That sword then—’

He admitted Night Moon, as Bang Sungyeon set it down, was outstanding.

And the words he spoke as well:

‘Consider—without end—what moon you set yourself. Pursue it.’

Words the Sword Saint had spoken until his tongue wore out in life.

How can you tell disciples to chase a moon when training and honing swordsmanship is task enough?

Back then, they hadn’t understood, and wore their puzzlement on their faces.

‘Now I do.’

Barely. Only barely.

Only after raising his level and climbing this far had the Elder’s words begun to make sense.

‘...And that one already looked to know.’

Bang Sungyeon seemed to have internalized the Elder’s words.

Else he could not have set such a sword.

‘A truly extraordinary talent.’

How such a talent could still be sitting in second-rate—he’d wondered.

Seeing it in person, he understood.

‘The rumors about beating the Little Azure Sword won’t be idle talk.’

Setting realm aside, with the presence Bang Sungyeon showed, it was no stretch that he’d beaten the Little Azure Sword.

‘If it were not the Little Azure Sword but his elder brother, it would be different—but even so, he is outstanding.’

Such was the sword Bang showed.

Therefore—

“He is dangerous.”

The Small Moon Commander, all the more, regarded Bang Sungyeon with caution.

“Hm?”

At his words, the Moonlit Sword’s expression turned curious.

It was a silent press to explain.

“He not only knows he has talent—his conviction regarding his own power surpasses anyone’s.”

I am right; you are wrong. That was the impression Bang Sungyeon gave in the duel.

“You could call it arrogance, but it warrants the name. With talent like that, he will become the eye of a storm.”

The world yearns for a genius. After the Sword Saint departed, who would take the vacant place of the World’s Greatest?

And—

‘Is there a genius to rival Yoo Cheongil.’

That was what people were watching for now.

The thing called the Seven arose in that same vein.

In such a climate, for Bang Sungyeon—the Sword Saint’s successor—to appear...

“The Ten Great Sects and the Five Great Clans will move.”

“...”

At the Moonlit Sword’s words, the Small Moon Commander affirmed with silence.

They would move in one way or another.

In fact, they might already be moving.

Which meant—

“For those whose seats are heavy enough to touch the sky to move—the boy must be that remarkable.”

“Sect Master...”

“You said it yourself. To the unqualified, it’s poison; to him, that ‘arrogance’ is merely expression.”

“Do you truly intend to embrace Young Master Bang?”

“Embrace?”

He laughed, a short, incredulous burst.

“He’s already joined the Small Moon Unit. Besides, did he not say it out of his own mouth? That he will ascend to the Young Lord’s seat.”

“However...”

“What I want right now is to ask you.”

The Moonlit Sword’s blue eyes turned to the Small Moon Commander. Eyes like they held a moon made the commander drop his own for a beat.

“What reason does the current Blue Moon Sect have to refuse Bang Sungyeon.”

“...”

“The eye of a storm? Since when have we feared such things. Or is the act of aiming for the Young Lord’s seat itself wrong? Hardly.”

He smiled. There was no kindness in it, and the Small Moon Commander had to swallow a hush.

“If he has the right, he’ll take it. If not, he’ll lose it.”

No matter how great the talent, even if of his own blood, it meant nothing.

He would hand it to the one with greater right.

The Moonlit Sword spoke like a warning.

“I respect that you reject him. But now that he is one of your men, at least assess him with reason. This isn’t a favor I’m asking.”

“...I will bear it in ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) mind.”

At the cold, heavy tone, the Small Moon Commander managed a nod.

Seeing the Sect Master’s face, he was sure.

‘Too late.’

Bang Sungyeon was in the Sect Master’s eye.

Anything further now would be pointless.

Besides—

‘...There wasn’t anything wrong in the Sect Master’s words.’

Even if Bang Sungyeon was dangerous, there was no reason for the Blue Moon Sect to refuse him.

The commander’s mistrust was, in the end, nothing but stubbornness.

‘...Even so.’

He could concede much, but one point he would never concede, not even dying.

‘I won’t compare him to the Elder.’

He would never place the Sword Saint and that youth on the same line.

That much would not change even if he died.

As he firmed that resolve—

“How goes what I ordered.”

At the Moonlit Sword’s words, the Small Moon Commander’s eyes widened.

“I was just contacted. I’ve compiled the information you requested, Sect Master.”

He had, for a moment, forgotten while speaking of Bang Sungyeon.

He hurriedly drew something from his breast.

Several letters.

“Information on the Liaodong Bang Family—and some with more detailed contents...”

He handed them over, trailing off.

“There was something... odd written there.”

“Odd?”

The Moonlit Sword took the letters and opened them at once.

He read slowly down the page—

“...Hm?”

—and his eyes lifted at a section.

“Nothing catches on the Bang Family Head or his elder son... but the problem is—”

Watching his eyes, the Small Moon Commander supplied:

“His elder sister.”

****

“...I’m gonna lose my mind.”

I spoke while staring at the moon, high for some time.

“I’m gonna go crazy.”

As I kept repeating it through clenched teeth, the vile spirit beside me reacted.

[What’s with the yapping racket. Sleep if you’re going to sleep and stop needling me.]

I glared at the tongue-clicking fiend.

“Whose fault do you think this is? Needling you? What about it. You don’t even sleep. And you’re not even a person.”

[What... you brat!]

Yoo Cheongil bristled and scrunched his face, but this time I wasn’t letting it go.

“If you’ve made a mess, kindly keep your mouth shut for once.”

[Mess, my backside. I went to the trouble of getting in your body, rolling and rolling, and handled it for you. Keep my mouth shut?]

“How is that ‘handled.’ I cleaned the mess you dumped, old man.”

And he’d dumped so much that no matter how much I cleaned, it seemed endless.

‘Just when I barely get one heap cleared, another comes out. That’s the problem.’

Clench teeth, sweep one—then an even bigger heap explodes.

At this point, death sounded easier.

“What exactly was your plan.”

I clawed at my hair. Felt like it would all fall out, but I had to.

[Why the tantrum when you ate something good.]

“...Good my foot. If this gets exposed, I’m finished.”

The reason I was flailing like this right after the Blue Moon Rite was simple.

“Why did you steal what the next Sect Master was supposed to take...!”

The Blue Moon Pill the Moonlit Sword should have swallowed. I’d snatched it down instead.

And on top of that—

“What do you mean it can’t be made anymore.”

He’d said the one I ate was the last Blue Moon Pill.

In the past, maybe—but now, he said, manufacturing was no longer possible.

Because—

“You’re the only one who knows the recipe...? Why. Why.”

The problem was that only this damned ghost knew how to make it.

At my words, the fiend—no, Yoo Cheongil—picked his nose and told me:

[The recipe for the Blue Moon Pill is passed to the Sect Master alone.]

“But the current Sect Master, the Moonlit Sword, doesn’t know it.”

[Of course he doesn’t.]

He flicked the little treasure from his finger and added:

[I died before I could teach him. Heh-heh.]

“...”

I dragged my hands down my face again and again.

There’s no fiasco like this fiasco.

‘You proud of yourself, really.’

What was so funny he had to cackle like that. I was dying inside.

‘What happens if this gets out.’

I didn’t know, but it would be a headache.

Say I found it in that damned cave again? That would fly best.

‘Better to just not get caught...’

Keeping my mouth shut and sitting still was the best play.

As the saying goes, if it doesn’t get out, it’s fine.

If it did, I’d be in deep trouble.

“...Haa.”

I sighed and lay back.

“Ah, my life.”

How did it come to this.

One moment I was saved by a ghost; next thing, I’d not only entered the Blue Moon Sect, I was in the Small Moon Unit.

It all happened so fast that people might call it good fortune from the outside, but—

‘Feels like walking on thin ice.’

A seat gained without the right is always uneasy and miserable.

If I slip, I’ll get crushed—that thought alone gave me one hell of a headache.

‘...What about tomorrow.’

Even if I got through today, how would I survive tomorrow.

No good plan came.

‘I did get an incredible eye...’

Eyes that can pre-see the opponent’s blade-path.

I don’t know the principle, but the power was monstrous.

If I can handle it.

“...Tsk.”

The problem was I could barely manage my own body.

‘Getting into the Small Moon Unit is good, but—’

If I relax even a little, I’ll get exposed.

Then everything I stacked will collapse in a rush. Just for that, if nothing else—

‘I have to get stronger, even a little.’

I had to build strength.

To make more grounds for my seat—and to avoid a repeat of what just happened.

‘Moon Dancer.’

Clenching a fist, I pictured Cheon Hyein’s face.

‘You damned witch.’

Skirting the line, and this time she stepped over it.

‘Damn it.’

I barely made it through with Yoo Cheongil’s help, but by the look of it, she’d keep doing it.

‘What do I do.’

If that’s how it’s going to be, how should I move.

I tried to think it through, but just then fatigue surged through my body.

The aftereffects of possession left me soaked in weariness.

Maybe because I lay down in that state, my eyelids kept sinking.

‘...I need sleep first.’

Plans can wait. Sleep now. Think when I wake.

Any plan, without what matters, is flimsy anyway.

What does the plan need now?

Like I said—

‘I need strength.’

Not something earthshaking—just enough.

But how do I make it?

Is there any way to get stronger in a short time?

‘If there were, I’d have done it already.’

Sadly, I knew no such thing.

‘What a filthy, hard life.’

Past life, this life—why is it all so hard.

Nothing ever goes right.

Thinking that, I fell asleep.

And when I opened my eyes—

“Where is this... now?”

—I was in a white space I couldn’t place.