What the hell did this crazy old man just say?
"Did he just ask me to… touch him?"
A wave of revulsion surged through me, and I instinctively scratched at my ears, hoping I’d misheard.
But judging by the Hermit’s utterly ruined expression, I wasn’t the only one who’d heard it.
One look at his face told me everything. He was clearly thinking the same thing I was.
And as expected—
“You senile fool… have you lost your mind?”
The Hermit bluntly voiced what I’d wanted to say, and it was oddly satisfying. Not that it made any of this easier to digest.
"Touch him? Has he truly lost it?"
From what I’d heard, Namgung Myung’s lingering consciousness remained in Thunder Fang, a manifestation of his unresolved attachment. But after centuries of confinement, had he finally gone insane?
[Myung… Myung-ah…]
Meanwhile, Noya’s mournful voice grated on my nerves.
‘…Noya, your friend is still here. Well, he’s dead, but he’s still… here.’
It sounded like Noya was reminiscing, so I tried to point out the obvious.
[Hah, what nonsense are you spouting, kid? Where could Myung possibly be?]
‘Right ther—’
[Don’t tell me you’re mistaking that perverted lunatic for Myung? Ha! Impossible.]
‘…’
Ah.
It seemed Noya had chosen to deny reality.
Though Namgung Myung’s spirit lingered as a manifestation of his regrets, Noya was adamant that it wasn’t him.
‘…Well, great.’
Frankly, I didn’t want to believe it either. But having heard it firsthand, there was no going back.
[Please… I beg you…]
Namgung Myung’s pitiful voice kept pleading.
What the hell was going on?
"Shit… what am I even supposed to call this?"
The emotions boiling inside me were too complicated to name. One thing was certain—it wasn’t a good feeling.
Of all the things to happen, I never thought I’d be harassed like this by a dead man. Forcing down the shivers running up my spine, I addressed Namgung Myung.
“…What’s wrong with you? Are you…?”
I bit back the words completely insane and substituted another question.
“Are you in pain or something?”
Could lingering spirits even feel pain? I had no idea. But at the very least, Namgung Myung’s current state was far from normal.
How could anyone look at this and call it sane?
[Child…! Please…!]
"What the hell is your problem?"
It was getting downright terrifying.
If a young woman had said this, I’d still be creeped out. But having a long-dead old man beg me to touch him? That was on another level.
“Oh, for crying out loud, what is wrong with you?”
I instinctively took a step back, unable to hide my disgust.
Noticing my reaction, Namgung Bi-ah gave me a puzzled look and asked, “…What’s wrong…?”
“What’s wrong? This old man is—”
I stopped mid-sentence, suddenly noticing her expression. Something wasn’t right.
“You….”
“…?”
“Can’t you hear anything?”
Namgung Bi-ah tilted her head in confusion. She couldn’t hear Namgung Myung’s voice?
‘…She wielded Thunder Fang, though?’
She had just held the sword, fully manifesting its blade. Yet she claimed not to hear Namgung Myung’s voice?
‘What kind of situation is this?’
While I was reeling from this unexpected revelation, Namgung Myung spoke again, his voice weary but resolute.
[That descendant may have been acknowledged by Thunder Fang, but not by me.]
“What does that even mean?”
Acknowledged by Thunder Fang but not by him? Weren’t they essentially the same thing?
[Even if Thunder Fang accepts her, unless I choose to let my voice reach her, she won’t hear it.]
So she could use the sword even without his acknowledgment?
‘That’s actually better, isn’t it?’
Given Namgung Myung’s personality, it was probably a blessing in disguise that Namgung Bi-ah couldn’t hear him.
But then again—
‘…Tsk.’
For Namgung Bi-ah to grow stronger, she needed his power.
Even if the Hermit guided her with Namgung family techniques, it wouldn’t match the benefit of learning directly from Namgung Myung himself.
So the question lingered.
“…Why won’t you acknowledge her?”
Namgung Bi-ah had more than enough talent.
She wasn’t lacking in ability, nor had she abandoned the Namgung family like the Hermit had.
She was an ideal candidate to wield the sword. So why wouldn’t he accept her?
When I posed the question, Namgung Myung’s answer was blunt.
[Why should I tell you?]
Hah.
‘Oh, this old man’s got some nerve.’
Even while pleading for help, he clung to his pride. It was almost amusing.
I couldn’t help but smirk.
This situation was unexpectedly entertaining.
“Seems like you need something from me. Are you sure this is the right way to ask for it?”
[…]
If someone handed me leverage on a silver platter, I’d be foolish not to use it.
Sure, his desperate begging was nauseating, but if he wanted my help that badly, he should’ve approached me differently.
And more importantly—
‘I need to understand why he’s acting like this.’
I needed to know his motives.
Why was he so desperate? And could helping him backfire on me somehow?
[…You little…]
Realizing he’d handed me the upper hand, Namgung Myung’s frustration was palpable. But it was too late.
“If you’re not going to explain, that’s fine. Just don’t expect me to do anything for you.”
My meaning was clear: no answers, no help.
[…Grit.]
I could hear the sound of his teeth grinding in frustration.
That reaction told me all I needed to know.
‘He’s really desperate.’
For him to endure this humiliation without giving up, his situation must have been dire.
What could possibly drive him to this point?
‘Did I do something?’
I couldn’t recall anything.
The only interaction I’d had with Thunder Fang was briefly wielding it earlier.
That alone had wrecked my body, and I was still feeling the aftereffects.
Given my current state, I had no reason to use the sword again, let alone help him.
In other words—
‘He’ll need to give me a reason.’
Just as I was wondering if his pride would allow it, Namgung Myung finally spoke.
[…That child’s sword… it isn’t for herself.]
“What do you mean?”
[A sword should be a reflection of the self. But when she held Thunder Fang, I could see where her path was leading.]
He seemed to be referring to when Namgung Bi-ah had used the sword.
[Her conviction is unwavering, and Thunder Fang resonated with that. But I did not.]
Despite his earlier fatigue, Namgung Myung’s voice now carried a strange fervor.
His words were laced with conflicting emotions.
[A sword meant for others… I refuse to lend my power to someone who walks that path.]
[Noya, you…!]
‘…Noya, hold on.’
Noya, clearly agitated by Namgung Myung's words, opened his mouth to speak, but I quickly stopped him in my mind.
A sword meant for others.
What Namgung Myung lamented was, in the end, a reflection of his own life—one lived for the sake of the world.
‘Or rather, it’s the lingering regret he left behind that’s lamenting.’
It might seem like splitting hairs, but the distinction probably didn’t matter much.
Regardless of how Namgung Myung himself had disappeared, I felt I was starting to understand why he refused to acknowledge Namgung Bi-ah.
A sword not for oneself but for another.
If Namgung Bi-ah was cultivating such a sword, the question then was: For whom was it intended?
I already knew the answer.
‘Me.’
Considering her vow to protect me and her intention to journey to the North Sea, even an idiot like me couldn’t fail to see the truth.
If Namgung Myung saw that as a problem, though—
“Then what’s your point?”
[…What?]
Frankly, it wasn’t my business.
While I didn’t exactly want Namgung Bi-ah to put herself on the line for me, the fact that her resolve had led to this situation just made it all the more irritating.
“So, you’re throwing a tantrum because she’s kind-hearted, and you don’t like it?”
[How dare you speak like that—]
“Why not? It’s true.”
Though my words were harsh, they weren’t wrong.
Riled up, I spoke sharply, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Namgung Bi-ah’s widened eyes.
I had tried to hold back, given her presence, but Namgung Myung was pushing all my buttons.
“The so-called ancestor of the Namgung family… acting no better than a petulant child.”
[You insolent—!]
Watching Noya sighing at Namgung Myung’s antics, I got the distinct impression that the real Namgung Myung—the man Noya once knew—was nothing like this.
This spirit, this lingering regret, was probably just a bundle of raw emotions left behind.
If that’s what had kept him intact all these years, I could understand.
But even so—
‘I’m not dealing with that crap.’
Senile old men were a dime a dozen.
My head was already pounding, and I didn’t have the patience to entertain this nonsense.
Though I’d initially planned to investigate his behavior, I realized it would be easier to cut my losses here.
Turning to the trembling, furious Namgung Myung, I spoke:
“You said you need me.”
[…I did.]
I didn’t know why he needed me, but his urgency was undeniable.
“Then promise to properly teach her. If you do, I’ll help you.”
I wasn’t going to do this for free.
[You…!]
Namgung Myung’s voice grew darker. Maybe he hadn’t expected me to strike a bargain, but that was his problem.
[You’re saying you’d resort to blackmail?]
I laughed.
“Well, this old man’s got a sense of humor.”
If he’d known me longer, he wouldn’t find this surprising.
[What’s so funny—]
“What else would you call it? And honestly, it’s less blackmail and more… negotiation. We both get something out of it.”
I’ll do what you ask, and you’ll give me what I want.
It wasn’t complicated.
“I’m tired and want to sleep, so just answer. Yes or no?”
[…Grit.]
Namgung Myung ground his teeth audibly, but I already knew what his answer would be.
The only thing that bothered me was—
‘I probably went a little too hard on him.’
Not that I felt bad for Namgung Myung.
If anything, I felt guilty toward Noya. Berating his old friend like this…
[Friend? Who are you talking about?]
Ah. He’d already disowned Namgung Myung in his mind.
Seeing Noya genuinely confused erased any lingering guilt I had. Good riddance.
The Hermit stood there with an indescribable expression, staring at Thunder Fang, while Namgung Bi-ah, completely out of the loop, glanced around nervously.
As I waited for Namgung Myung’s answer, the seconds dragged on.
Finally, he spoke:
[…I’ll teach her.]
“What was that? Didn’t quite catch it, senior.”
[…I said I’ll teach her how to wield the sword properly. Now grab me already.]
“Oh, I didn’t hear you.”
[How can you not hear me when I’m speaking so clearly!]
I shrugged. “Well, she can’t hear you, can she?”
[…!]
I gestured toward Namgung Bi-ah, who still seemed oblivious to his voice.
This needed to be addressed.
[Sigh….]
Realizing my point, Namgung Myung let out a reluctant sigh before turning to Namgung Bi-ah.
[Can you hear me now?]
“…!”
Namgung Bi-ah’s startled reaction was… unexpectedly cute.
[There. Satisfied?]
As soon as I heard him, I retrieved Thunder Fang from the Hermit.
I wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible.
Vrrrum!
The moment I gripped the blade, I felt my energy being drained.
[Ahh…!]
Namgung Myung let out an audible sigh of relief, one so unsettling I wanted to throw the sword away immediately.
But I held back.
‘So that’s why he wanted me to grab it… to absorb my energy?’
A significant amount of my energy was being drawn out, steadily but surely.
[Haaahhh!]
“Ugh. Gross.”
Hearing an old man groan like that made my skin crawl.
Finally, as the draining sensation subsided, I glared at Namgung Myung.
“Why the hell are you doing this?”
Though his voice was clearer now, his explanation didn’t make me feel any better.
[…Because you poured your energy into Thunder Fang earlier.]
I nodded slightly. That tracked with my earlier use of the sword.
But still—
“Why is that a problem?”
[…I know the reason. I just didn’t expect to experience it firsthand.]
At least he knew. Sighing, I handed Thunder Fang back to the Hermit, who didn’t look thrilled to take it.
If my ancestor had acted like this, I’d feel pretty disillusioned too.
Once he’d steadied his breathing, Namgung Myung finally spoke again.
[…The reaction is tied to something I suspect.]
“Well, it’s a bit late to sound so serious now, don’t you think?”
[Let me ask you something, child.]
His voice had returned to its original, cold tone. I was about to brush it off when—
[What is your connection to the Blood Demon?]
His words made my brow furrow deeply.