“What now.”
The words ca out the instant I opened my eyes.
I narrowed at the sight before and scanned around.
A world blotted white.
Floor and ceiling painted the sa blank, a place where nothing ant anything.
“Hm.”
I knew at a glance.
“A nightmare. Rot.”
A nightmare. Lately I’d been so exhausted I’d black out the mont I lay down, so I’d been spared them.
It had been a long ti.
I carefully raised myself. Turns out I’d been sitting. I looked around from that position—no different than a mont ago.
All white, all the way down. No telling one thing from another.
I moved bit by bit, tested this and that, and ca to a conclusion.
“Not sleep paralysis. Just a lucid dream?”
Didn’t feel like paralysis caused by a ghost.
Despite how out-of-the-blue this was, my face stayed as calm as any day.
I’d had my fill of this in my past life.
This level doesn’t rattle .
It only made snort. And I knew exactly what to do at tis like this.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
If I keep them closed a mont and open them, I’ll wake up and—
“...Should be awake?”
I opened them again. Sa scene.
“Great.”
I scratched my cheek. Ah, that’s not good.
“This just got tricky.”
That’s a problem. That makes it more than a simple nightmare.
‘Feels like spirit-qi mixed in.’
When a soul ddles and affects a human dream.
If it impacts the body, that’s paralysis; if it intrudes to deliver a will, that’s a spirit-dream.
I rubbed my jaw and swept the white again.
“Definitely not paralysis... so a spirit-dream.”
A dream this vivid should be suspect—and even recognizing it, I can’t snap awake? That made it certain.
Strange.
I’d been tracking the positions of the spirits around , and if anything looked off, I avoided involvent with care.
As a result, none of the ghosts near were entangled with .
“Hmmm.”
Then what?
I thought a mont, nodded. Found the answer.
I turned imdiately and spoke.
“What is it.”
Sure enough, soone was standing behind . Obviously, the one who dragged into a place like this.
If it’s spirit-qi, that ans a ghost—and there was only one ghost at my side.
“...Old man.”
“Oh.”
Oh, my ass. Yoo Cheongil widened his eyes and greeted like sunshine.
I had to twist my mouth at the ridiculous act.
Seeing that, he wore, for so reason, a disappointed face.
“I thought you’d be at least a little flustered. No fun if you’re fine.”
“My life’s too grotesque for this to surprise .”
After all the freakish things I’ve gone through, this doesn’t even register.
“So... what is this supposed to be?”
I could tell it was a space made with spirit-qi, but how had the old man pulled it off?
At my question, Yoo Cheongil stroked his beard and said,
“I don’t know. Seed like it might work, so I tried, and it did.”
“...That’s your answer?”
What kind of reply is that? You just tried it because you felt like it?
What a deranged explanation.
Past ridiculous.
‘...Is this sothing you can do just because you want to?’
Ordinary spirits can’t ddle with others like this.
Paralysis—sure, a ghost with so years might. But a spirit-dream is different.
‘At least a general-class...’
Or a mountain spirit—those, or sothing gone all the way to vile spirit.
‘...’
Watching Yoo Cheongil relish his success, I clicked my tongue inside.
Fine. If it’s him, maybe it’s possible. The thought ca unbidden.
“Pleased with yourself?”
“A bit curious, yes.”
“...Right. Then end it. Let sleep properly.”
I was “asleep,” but a spirit-dream leaves you ntally wrung out.
Sleep that isn’t sleep.
“Hm.”
At my wish, he tipped his head slightly. That alone made uneasy.
‘...His eyes.’
Those fierce eyes, the corners bent a touch—that look he wears right before he makes trouble.
“Old man... what are you—”
The mont I tried to ask—
Thud!
“—Gah!?”
Pain slamd my skull and I dropped to a knee.
“Grr—!”
Brutal pain. What? What just happened?
I clutched my crown with a shaking hand and raised my head.
He stood right in front of , fist up, studying like a curious animal.
No way—
“...Old man. Did you just hit ?”
“Ohh... sits right in the hand.”
“You insane fossil?”
He threw a punch out of nowhere? I stared, dumbfounded—and then noticed sothing off.
‘Wait. He hit ?’
I grabbed for his leg. Caught it. A corded mass of muscle filled my hand.
“...Why can I grab you?”
That was strange enough—but there was a bigger problem.
“Why does it hurt?”
My head throbbed. Judging by the angle, he’d punched .
“How is this hurting...”
It’s a dream, and yet the pain was razor-clear. My eyes wavered a mont in confusion—
“Good.”
With that chilling word, my vision lurched.
“Kh—!?”
His huge hand closed on my throat and lifted clean off the ground.
“I was wondering how to fix this ill-bred brat’s manners—who knew I’d get a chance like this.”
“Ghh...”
His grip strangled the breath right out of . His hand was so large it more than filled my neck.
“At last I can teach that body of yours sothing called respect. How about it.”
“...Hh... hh...”
I raised my hands and seized his wrist.
At once, the pressure on my throat loosened. He’d eased up so I could speak.
What answer did he want.
A frightened apology? A head bowed, a promise to behave?
Pointless either way.
I wasn’t giving him either.
“Cut the shitty joke... and put ... down. Now.”
Stuffing every ounce of annoyance into it, I spat it out. His smile vanished.
“Tch.”
He clicked his tongue, and then—
Thud!
His hand let go and I hit the ground.
“—Kuh! Cough!”
I hacked and spat dryly. His voice ca down, full of disappointnt.
“No fun. I thought you’d be a little rattled. For a youngster, your insides are ice.”
“...You pulled this to amuse yourself?”
I already knew he wasn’t serious.
He’s not the sort to do this much just to hurt .
“Hng.”
“Hng my ass. If you’ve had your fun, end it. This is exhausting.”
“Heh. Listen to this brat.”
He laughed. That face was as lethal as ever.
“Boy, you know I can tornt you all I like here, and your tone is poor. Shall I tornt you more?”
“As if you don’t every day.”
He hadn’t hit before, but as far as harassnt goes, sa difference.
“And if you truly wanted to see bow, I’ll never do it—not even if I die.”
“Hm? Why?”
He looked honestly curious.
Why not bow to him?
There was only one reason.
“I don’t bow to ghosts. No matter what.”
He snorted a laugh.
“Odd words for soone with my leash on his neck.”
“There are matters of force majeure.”
“Strictly speaking, you an things bend to your convenience.”
“The essence doesn’t change.”
I don’t bend my pride to a ghost. If he were human, maybe.
To a ghost, not a chance.
“Hm.”
He watched in silence.
We looked into those blue eyes a mont.
“Well, suit yourself.”
He tipped his chin and flicked his hand.
And then—
Tok.
“...Huh?”
Sothing dropped before . A sword, as it turned out.
A true blade, finely made.
“...What is this.”
Where did a sword pop out of—
“Take it.”
“You did that?”
“Yes.”
‘...You can do that too?’
A first for . I’d had a few spirit-dreams in my past life, but my presence was so strong that few spirits could linger long.
And none of the ones that managed it had done anything like this.
But...
‘This is new.’
It was already absurd that being hit hurt. This went further.
‘What are you, old man.’
At this point, he was edging into frightening. I picked the sword up.
‘...The feel is real.’
From the texture of the grip to the proper weight—solid.
Can I even call this a dream? I was starting to doubt.
“Got it?”
“Yes. But what for...”
“Nothing much. I can’t keep crawling into your body to fight. And with that internal art, it’s about ti I taught you sothing.”
“...!”
I widened my eyes. Which ant—
“You’re going to train ? Here?”
“Perfect timing, isn’t it.”
“I an...”
Hard to say no. Besides—
‘Lessons from the old man, huh.’
Honestly, I was excited.
Cursing him in my head wouldn’t change that he was the World’s Greatest of his era.
Being taught by a man like that—nothing to dislike.
‘Right. If he has a conscience, it’s about ti he did sothing.’
After all I’d crawled through, he was finally throwing a bone. Unexpected.
‘But will this help?’
No matter how real it felt, this was a dream.
Train here and it all resets when I wake? The thought passed, but—
“Focus.”
“Yes.”
Whatever. Do it first. I fixed my mind.
“Then, endure.”
“Yes. ...Pardon?”
Sothing about that sounded wrong, so I looked at him.
But—
“...What? Old man?”
He vanished. Right before my eyes.
Where did he run off to now? I was wondering when—
“What are you.”
A voice arrived.
I turned, and where there had been nothing, soone stood.
“...What now.”
I narrowed my eyes. A person I’d never seen.
Wild, black hair; uniform clotted with blood.
In his hand, a great saber with no edge left—ruined by years of use.
I couldn’t make out every feature, but a young face showed through.
About my age.
At most a year or two older or younger. And—
‘...Moon Eyes?’
A youth with blue eyes like mine.
What was he. I studied him a breath.
“I asked what you are.”
He asked , instead.
His voice raised gooseflesh down my spine.
‘How does a human voice—’
Get that rough, that savage?
My hand on the sword shook on its own.
“So you won’t answer. «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» No matter.”
Not that I wouldn’t—my voice just wouldn’t co. The killing intent pouring off him ruled my body.
In that instant—
He moved his legs as he looked at —
“An enemy, either way.”
The next words ca from right beside .
I’d just seen him far away—how was he here? Shock snapped my head that way, but—
Slice—
With a sound of sothing being cut—
My view fell away.
As the ground rose toward my eyes—
I realized my neck was gone.
****
“—Hah!”
I bolted upright with my eyes open.
“Kh— hah—”
Both hands clamped my throat.
My palms felt everything.
“...Huff... huff...”
With trembling hands, I scrubbed my face dry.
I’d died.
I’d just died in a dream.
Cut down by soone I didn’t even know, in a blink.
“F—...”
So vivid it was sickening.
Especially that slow fall to the ground after my neck ca off—that I’ll never forget.
“Huff... huff.”
I evened my breath and wiped the sweat collecting on my brow.
My hands still shook, but relief rose from within.
‘A dream is still a dream.’
However vivid the death, I’d co back. So it was a dream.
That was enough. With that decided, I sharpened my eyes.
‘You damned old man.’
Where is he now? I had a lot to grab him for.
I turned, eyes blazing—
“Oh my...”
“...!”
And froze at the voice that ca with the morning.
A voice that should not be here.
Creak— creeeak.
With a stiff neck I forced a turn.
On the windowsill, frad by proof of morning light—
Sat a woman, hands folded demurely.
She looked cold and quiet—and impossibly beautiful.
Her pretty eyes curved like a crescent as she looked at .
Then her cherry lips parted.
“Good morning. Did you sleep well?”
Cheon Hyein.
Seeing her, I knew for sure.
“I’m still in a nightmare.”
“...?”
“A real dog of a nightmare.”
“...”
A faint crease ford between her pretty brows.
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