A Simple Correction
"First. If it's about revenge, I won't listen."
My first warning to the old man.
Avenge me.
That was the exact kind of request I loathed.
I had nearly died countless times because of that nonsense.
"Second. If you want me to pass a message to your family or acquaintances, a letter is fine, but I won't meet them in person."
I hated face-to-face meetings.
Things often got weirdly tangled and complicated when I did that.
"Third. I won't get involved in anything related to treasures or your personal wealth."
Some people still obsessed over the worldly riches they left behind even after they died.
This was also from experience—coveting the dead's wealth never ended well.
"Finally, fourth. I don't want to hear anything about taking responsibility for a specific person."
Oh, my family has no one to look after them now that I'm gone, my granddaughter this, my grandson that.
Just thinking about it was annoying and exhausting.
I could barely feed myself. I had absolutely no intention of taking anyone else under my wing.
"If it's a single request that doesn't involve any of those, I'll at least hear you out."
"...Haha."
The old man let out a dry chuckle at my words.
He stared at me quietly for a moment.
"Child. I can guess what kind of life you have lived so far."
He cast a somewhat pitying look my way.
"Yeah. It wasn't exactly smooth sailing. So please, cut me some slack."
No matter what, the moment you get involved with a ghost, things turn to shit.
Whether it was for me or for the ghost.
"Hmm."
The ghost seemed to fall into deep thought.
Had he been planning to ask for one of those four things?
It wouldn't be surprising.
Most lingering regrets fell into one of those categories.
It would be stranger if his request wasn't one of them.
A brief silence settled between us.
"If you have nothing to say, I'll be on my—"
"It is not quite a request, child."
"Yes?"
I wondered what he meant, but then the old man suddenly pointed his finger.
"First, would you mind quietly watching over there?"
"What?"
I looked in the direction he was pointing.
There was nothing but a few trees.
And he wanted me to just watch?
"...What is it?"
I asked the old man, genuinely seeing nothing.
At that moment—
Flap, flap!
A bird suddenly flew up from the bushes.
"..."
What was that about?
I stared at the old man, my eyes asking what on earth he was doing, but he only gave a slight smile and scratched the back of his head.
"It makes me self-conscious when someone is watching."
"...You mean that bird?"
"Be it a rat or a bird, they all have eyes, do they not?"
I thought it was something serious.
For a second, I thought some master was hiding and watching me.
Then again.
Why would a master bother watching someone like me? I got tense for nothing.
"Now then."
I tensed up again at the old man's words.
Did he still have a request despite all my conditions?
"In any case, you are saying you will help as long as it is not one of the things you mentioned."
"...As long as you don't go telling other ghosts and make them bother me."
If I kept ignoring him, a ghost like him would just cling to me forever.
Or he would keep playing childish pranks like today to annoy me.
If there was one saving grace...
Ghosts as vivid as him always kept their word.
They were the type who, once they resolved to do something, did it by any means necessary.
If they had something to protect, they protected it, and they never went back on their word.
The only problem was that they would never leave until you did what they asked, and their requests were always ridiculously troublesome.
"Very well."
The old man smiled.
"I shall do so."
As expected, the old man nodded, accepting my terms.
Then, he told me what he wanted.
However...
"...What?"
His request was something I had never heard of in all my lives.
Name: Yeon Socheon
Gender: Male
Age: 19
Affiliation: Disciple of the Miyoung Sect in Anhui
Realm: Second-class to First-class
This was the description of the young man registered at the Anhui Branch of the Martial Alliance, but in reality, not a single piece of it was true.
From his name, age, and realm, to the sect he belonged to.
The only accurate detail was his gender.
Everything else was a lie. But it couldn't be helped.
His true identity was something that could never be revealed.
Swish!
A sword blade danced through the night.
The only things illuminating the spacious training hall were a small lantern and the moonlight filtering through the window.
There, Yeon Socheon swung his sword repeatedly, his eyes calm and focused.
Whoosh! Swish! His movements were swift and precise.
Even though he was exhausted enough for sweat to drip from his chin, his sword did not waver.
"Hoo...! Ha!"
He focused on his breathing, constantly checking the trajectory of his blade.
Whoosh!
The passing blade whipped up a gust of wind, packed with power.
Slash!
The sword, enveloped in energy, sliced through the air so fast it was barely visible.
A hundred times, a thousand times. Despite the endless repetition, he swung his sword tenaciously.
After swinging for a long while more, Yeon Socheon brought the blade down in a final strike and corrected his posture.
"...Hoo..."
Heat filled the training hall. He wiped the sweat from his chin and caught his breath.
The air remained hot.
Standing in the midst of it, Yeon Socheon looked somewhat dissatisfied.
It was only natural.
...This isn't it.
Days and nights.
Days spent swinging the sword without a single day of rest.
He had been doing this for three years now.
His palms tore and calloused over and over again. He had put in so much effort.
Yet, his progress in his realm was slow, and his martial arts had stagnated.
It was as if Yeon Socheon had fallen into an inner block.
Just what do I have to do...
...to achieve the form my sect pursues?
He felt a deep thirst.
The sight he had witnessed in his childhood.
The shape of the moonlight that person had shown him.
Yeon Socheon dreamed of that sword.
A brilliant sword that seemed to slice through the moonlight itself.
He swung his sword every day, visualizing it, but he could never reach it or grasp the feeling.
What was the problem?
Why couldn't his sword trace the path he desired?
...I don't know.
He didn't know.
If he didn't know, he had to keep swinging until he did.
He absolutely had to, but he felt like he was standing in the middle of a vast, pitch-black ocean.
It was utterly suffocating.
Get a grip. Calm down. I've finally found a trace of him.
Tighten.
He tightened his grip on the hilt.
Yes, even if he didn't understand now, he would someday.
For now, he needed to focus on finding what that person had left behind rather than his own martial arts.
Only by obtaining that...
...will I stand a chance.
Yeon Socheon steeled his resolve, his eyes flashing.
Just then.
"Ahem."
A voice cleared behind him.
Yeon Socheon turned his head at the sound.
A young-looking man was standing near the entrance, looking at him.
He tried to recall his name. What was it again?
...Bang Seongyeon, was it?
A low-ranking member of the Martial Alliance who was ignored by everyone else.
Even the squad leader had told him not to pay any attention to that guy.
What was strange was that despite being ignored and mistreated, the guy never seemed discouraged.
He felt entirely different from himself.
...
Moreover, Yeon Socheon happened to have something to say to him.
He had been waiting in the training hall under the pretext of practicing just for this.
Yeon Socheon wiped his sweat with a cloth and walked over.
He rehearsed what he wanted to say to the young man.
First, an apology.
Even if he hadn't known any better, it had taken him too long to realize how strange things were, just as the guy had pointed out.
The fact that the members of his squad walked on eggshells around him.
The fact that he was given a private room all to himself.
The fact that even his night watch duties were arranged as a favor.
And the fact that everyone, starting from the squad leader, treated him with utmost respect.
It was all special treatment.
If that young man hadn't pointed it out, he probably wouldn't have realized it until the very end.
As the guy said, perhaps he had taken it all for granted.
Recalling that...
"Um, Young Master Bang..."
Just as Yeon Socheon was about to speak to Bang Seongyeon.
"Your waist."
Bang Seongyeon spoke first.
"What?"
His waist?
What did that mean all of a sudden? Yeon Socheon was about to ask, but...
Bang Seongyeon simply continued.
"You're putting too much tension in your waist."
"What are you talking about all of a sudden...?"
Bang Seongyeon pointed to Yeon Socheon's waist.
"I understand you want to put power into your sword, but your method is wrong."
"Young Master Bang?"
What on earth was he saying?
Yeon Socheon's eyes trembled as he stared at him.
"In the first place, power isn't something you 'put' into it; it's something that 'flows' into it. Because you're adding unnecessary tension, the power is getting trapped instead of being released."
"...!"
Only then did Yeon Socheon realize what Bang Seongyeon was trying to do.
His face contorted the moment he understood.
"You..."
His form of address changed from "Young Master Bang." This had crossed the line to be considered a joke.
A guy who hadn't even reached the level of a second-class martial artist.
Was such a person actually trying to give him pointers?
Yeon Socheon couldn't even control his expression as he glared at Bang Seongyeon.
He didn't believe in discriminating based on realms, but this was a different matter entirely.
"...What do you think you're doing, showing up out of nowhere like this?"
Peeking at another martial artist's training was a grave insult.
Under these circumstances, what did this novice think he was doing lecturing a superior?
Moreover...
Someone who knows nothing about my sect's swordsmanship.
How dare he act like he knew anything?
What did he think he saw?
Yeon Socheon barely managed to suppress the rising anger inside him.
Even so, Bang Seongyeon ignored his reaction and continued as if he still had more to say.
"Trying to force power into it is just an artificial action. The important thing isn't simply swinging hard, but—"
Shring!
"!"
Bang Seongyeon shut his mouth, unable to finish his sentence.
The cold edge of Yeon Socheon's blade was resting against his throat.
"Stop right there. I don't think I can listen to any more of this."
"..."
He could feel the cold metal.
If it came any closer, it would slice his skin.
Sensing this, Bang Seongyeon spoke as if he were in a tight spot.
"...If you go any further, I think I might die."
Was he talking to Yeon Socheon?
Hearing this, Yeon Socheon spoke in an angry voice.
"I am holding back because I felt a small sense of gratitude toward you. But if you cross the line any further..."
"Ah, then can I stop now?"
"...Grit."
Did this guy really want to die?
He seriously wondered.
He had no idea why this guy was acting like this, and since he was already struggling with his martial arts, it was hard to keep his temper in check.
The tip of his sword trembled with rage.
Yeon Socheon managed to control his emotions somehow and spoke.
"...Leave. And never speak to me again. I don't know what your reasons are, but there won't be a next time."
When he spoke with cold finality, Bang Seongyeon just stared at him quietly.
Was he going to treat this as a joke too?
If so, he really wouldn't be able to hold back.
Fortunately, Bang Seongyeon didn't say another word, just as Yeon Socheon wished.
He simply shrugged his shoulders.
Spin! He turned around and walked away without a hint of lingering regret.
Watching him go, Yeon Socheon let out a hollow laugh.
"Ha...?"
What was that?
He stared at the man's retreating back.
It was ridiculous that he had thought well of him even for a moment.
What was the point of all that?
Yeon Socheon had actually been moved by Bang Seongyeon's words earlier and had gone to see the squad leader.
He had requested to be moved to the common quarters instead of his private room, and asked to be assigned regular night watch duties.
The squad leader had nervously asked if he was dissatisfied with something, which only confirmed it.
He really had been receiving special treatment.
Now that he realized it, he had planned to correct things step by step.
He had also planned to apologize and thank Bang Seongyeon for opening his eyes.
He had been thinking exactly that.
How pathetic.
To think I actually thought well of him, not knowing he was this kind of person.
Grit!
Yeon Socheon gritted his teeth to suppress his anger and turned around.
He headed back to the training hall.
There was no way he could rest in this state of mind.
He would blow away this unpleasant feeling with his sword.
With that thought, he drew his sword again and resumed his sword dance.
Yet, strangely, those useless words kept echoing in his head.
"You're putting too much tension in your waist."
"I understand you want to put power into your sword, but your method is wrong."
"..."
He could have easily ignored such ridiculous words, but once he became aware of them, he couldn't stop thinking about them.
Why did he care so much about the words of a third-class martial artist who was far below him?
"Power isn't something you 'put' into it; it's something that 'flows' into it."
"Because you're adding unnecessary tension, the power is getting trapped instead of being released."
Tension in the waist...
So instead of flowing into the sword, the power was trapped.
It was absurd.
Did that mean he should relax his waist instead?
The tension in the waist was meant to keep the sword's trajectory from flying out of control.
If he relaxed it, his posture and recoil control would fall apart.
Even a complete novice who had just started learning martial arts, let alone a third-class martial artist, would know that.
So why did that guy say such a thing?
Perhaps out of sudden curiosity, Yeon Socheon unconsciously relaxed the tension in his waist slightly.
And then—
Swish! Slash!
The sword sliced through the air, unleashing a sharp, piercing sound.
"...Huh?"
Seeing this, Yeon Socheon's body froze solid.