The World's Greatest is Dead

Inner energy is indispensable to a martial artist when executing martial arts.

In a way, it’s the most fundamental reason one can be called a martial artist at all.

You build inner energy through the internal art you’ve learned, then dissolve it into each and every movement.

That is what the Central Plains calls martial arts, and that is why inner energy matters.

The deeper and greater the energy, the more you can do.

Only, inner energy isn’t something you get just because you want it.

Either you pile it up over years of grueling training, or you consume an elixir so rare you couldn’t buy it with a mountain of gold. That’s the end of the list.

Hence why everyone obsesses over “fortuitous encounters.”

But.

"...My energy went up."

[...What did you say?]

It increased out of nowhere.

When I say this absurd thing out loud, even Yoo Cheongil is caught off guard.

[What are you talking about.]

"I mean..."

No talk, no nothing. I mean it literally.

"My energy increased."

Not a huge amount, but definitely up. I wondered if I was mistaken, but there’s no way.

It’s not like I have so much I’d misread it.

[...Huh?]

His reaction is a sight.

What’s with that face? I can’t stand it.

[What, boy?]

"How do you know when I didn’t even say it out loud?"

[ I prodded, and it seems you really were cursing me in your head. ]

"Now you’re prodding?"

Maybe he’s lost it.

Anyway.

"It really went up."

[And why would your energy suddenly go up.]

"How would I know."

If I knew, why would I be surprised? It jumped for no reason—what do you want me to do with that...

"Hm?"

I halt mid-grumble.

Because what just happened flashes back.

"Right..."

I think of what might have caused it. I’m not certain.

It’s only a hunch, but one thing comes to mind.

"Was it the crossing over just now?"

At the moment the vile spirit voiced her wish and vanished—

My body reacted.

A warm sensation wrapped me, and something I couldn’t name seeped in. Was it that?

"If that’s true..."

No way.

"When a vile spirit crosses over, I gain inner energy?"

I swallow dry.

It’s ridiculous, but I can’t think of anything else.

****

A damnable former life.

If I had to pick the part I was sickest of, I’d say, without question, sending spirits on.

Resentment, regret, or longing accrued in death.

Some of them were too thick to resolve, and they couldn’t leave without it.

I got tangled with those, and there was a stretch where I was stuck with appeasing one wretched soul after another.

I sent more souls on than I could count.

Some were ordinary ghosts; some were vile spirits crusted in malice.

Men and women, old and young—but they shared one thing.

Namely—

"They never gave me anything for crossing them over."

No matter how much I busted my back, nothing fell into my hands.

Sometimes they’d set terms and hand over money, or reveal a hidden stash—

"I almost died a few times trying to eat what a ghost left."

Never touch what the dead leave. Even with their “permission,” unless the price is paid in full, the world won’t permit it.

So grinding myself into the dirt was the daily routine.

"...And now my energy increases."

I sit and think it through.

Inner energy increasing, and its connection to crossing over.

If my guess is right, this is a colossal stroke of fortune.

If I can gain energy this way, what else do you call a fortuitous encounter?

There’s just one problem...

"Is the condition the crossing over?"

What’s the trigger? If it’s the act of sending them on...

"That would ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) be very inconvenient."

Too many problems.

[What problems.]

Yoo Cheongil butts into my fretting.

[You should be rounding up every ghost you can and sending them on this instant. What “problem.”]

If crossing them over raises inner energy, then I should send as many as possible—so says Yoo Cheongil.

But—

"...It’s not that simple."

I can’t swallow that easy.

"The more you involve the affairs of souls in the world of the living, the more trouble lands on me."

As I said, karma exists. Spirits cross once their wish is met—but...

"The karma that piles on me from doing it doesn’t clear."

It’s what comes after I send them on.

"You have no idea how vicious karma is."

If I act like crossing over equals profit, there’s a good chance it bites me later.

Also—

"If word spreads..."

If word spreads among the dead, this life might get trashed too.

Especially in a world where so many die by others’ hands.

"Tsss."

I don’t know how crossing over ties to my inner energy, or if it really does, or by what principle.

"If it does..."

What do I do with it?

It’s a windfall, sure.

And like the old man says, I could “use” crossing over to harvest energy—

"But I don’t think I can carry the fallout."

There’s too little I know to test it—or to exploit it.

If I’d known sooner, I might’ve poked around, but...

"Who could’ve known."

Unlike the former life, I’ve been trying to live far from ghosts. Crossing over in this life was a first.

****

"...Hm."

Not something to decide lightly.

Three days have passed since my energy went up, and I’m still mired in it.

My hands keep moving anyway.

Because I have to pack.

I’m packing when—

"Young Master Bang. Are you ready?"

"Ah, yes. Almost."

A voice through the door—Cheon Eujin. I answer in a hurry.

"Why is there so much to pack when I barely have anything."

I figured it’d be quick, but it took longer than I thought.

Once I’ve stuffed enough, I heft the baggage and manage to lift the wooden case beside it.

"Ugh..."

I want to chuck it right now. I swallow that urge and start walking.

"...I’ll think about the rest on the road."

I’m packing for a simple reason.

It’s today.

The day I leave Anhui for the Blue Moon Sect.

****

With Cheon Eujin’s help, the baggage all goes onto the carriage.

"...That’s big."

It’s so large even a few loads don’t make a dent.

Good.

"What kind of carriage is this?"

I’ve never seen one like it.

I’m peering around at it when he explains:

"A carriage the Branch kindly provided."

"...This was at the Branch?"

First I’ve seen it. Even the Branch Leader’s ride looked cheaper than this.

"Haha... if it’s too much, we can get another—"

"No, comfort is good."

If it’s expensive, even better. Who turns that down?

When I think that, who else but someone comes over from afar.

"Hohoho—! Do you like the carriage?"

The Branch Leader.

"No complaints. I like it very much."

"Excellent. I’m glad."

"Thank you for the consideration."

"Nonsense! It’s Young Master Bang setting off—how could I not prepare at least this much?"

“Our Young Master Bang”—an honorific so saccharine my ears rot.

"Haha..."

I hide my feelings under a thin smile. He nods and says:

"Please don’t forget us after you go. That’s all I ask..."

Too heavy for “that’s all.” I’d love to forget you immediately, and you ask me not to.

"...Of course."

I force the answer and climb aboard.

Behind, not just the Branch Leader but a fair number of Alliance people have come to see me off, but I don’t look their way.

"I’ve already said my last piece to Senior."

Before boarding, I’d met Yoo Hyungin to exchange final words.

I have nothing more to do with the rest.

When I hop in fast, Cheon Eujin asks, puzzled:

"Do you need more time?"

"No. Let’s go now."

"Ah... understood. Please, set off."

"Yes, sir!"

Hiiing—!!

The driver answers, hands move, the horses respond, and the carriage rolls.

Out the window, the Branch gates recede.

"...Haa..."

I sigh and think:

"Do I call this a rise in the world...?"

A road others only dream of—the road to the Blue Moon Sect.

I’m on it, but I don’t feel good at all.

I can see the path of hardship bright as day.

The open road looks like it’s welcoming me to hell; that alone sours my mood.

But there isn’t much I can do, so I just close my eyes and feel the wind at the window.

****

A day after Bang Sungyeon’s departure.

With the usual air lingering—

"...What do you mean."

Jin Gyeongchan, current Unit Commander at the Martial Alliance’s Anhui Branch, knits his brow.

"Who came to the Branch?"

His face says he can’t believe it. Of course. It’s not easy to believe.

"Well..."

The ranker answers, flustered.

"We’re verifying identity, but the guest claims to be from the Murong Clan..."

"The Murong Clan..."

He hums at the same answer.

Among the countless families of the Central Plains, the finest five are the Five Great Clans.

The Murong Clan is one of them—and in particular—

"From the clan said to be on wretched terms with the Namgung Clan..."

They’re especially ill with the Namgung Clan, the so-called Sword Clan of the World that rules Anhui.

And now the Murong Clan suddenly sends someone to the Anhui Branch?

At the unexpected news, Jin Gyeongchan rises at once.

To verify.

He must confirm whether it’s true.

"If it isn’t—"

Impersonating such a name will bring a heavy punishment.

"If it is..."

From his position, the truth is the bigger headache.

He strides for the gates—

And as soon as he arrives, he sees them.

"...I am Jin Gyeongchan, current Unit Commander of the Anhui Branch—"

He starts to introduce himself, when the one at their head turns to face him.

"...!"

He meets her eyes and swallows.

First, a woman.

Long straight hair, dressed at a glance in silk fit for a noble, a fan half-veiling her face.

"...What is this feeling."

Something about her presence makes him swallow dry without thinking.

And also—

"The one at her side isn’t ordinary."

Her escort, even to Jin Gyeongchan’s eye, is a formidable man.

The woman speaks to him:

"Ah. A pleasure."

A voice icy, free of any emotion.

"...I hear you’re from the Murong Clan."

"Correct. We came looking for someone... they said they’d bring someone to confirm. That you?"

"Yes."

"Good. How do you want to verify it? I don’t like waiting."

"......"

Not ordinary.

Far from it.

Jin Gyeongchan’s instincts jab at his spine.

"...Lady."

"Yes."

"Before I confirm your identity... you said you came looking for someone..."

"Correct. The..."

A trick of my ears? She closes her mouth. For a blink her brow pinches, then smooths.

"...There’s a sly little raccoon hiding here."

"...A raccoon?"

What is this about a raccoon. He asks, puzzled.

"Yes. A raccoon."

She answers with a faint eye-smile.

"There’s a man with nothing to recommend him but his face. Oh, and he thinks he’s very clever."

"......"

At that, one name flickers across Jin Gyeongchan’s mind.

The one who turned the Branch on its head the other day.

A mistake?

"By any chance, the name of the one you’re looking for..."

He ventures carefully.

Snap— She closes her fan, and he’s stunned twice over.

"...What beauty."

Her face, once unveiled, is beyond what he imagined.

"No way."

Her features call one person to mind.

There happens to be a Murong by that name famed for beauty of late.

And as if his surprise doesn’t interest her at all, she says:

"Bang Sungyeon."

"...!!"

"He’s here, isn’t he? The sly raccoon. Oh, and if you mean to pretend he isn’t, pass on a message."

At the name he thought of, he swallows.

At the same time, she speaks:

"Tell him his fiancée came all this way, so the least he can do is show his face. And—"

Her name is Murong Yeongsun.

Age: twenty.

"If he runs again this time, I’ll catch him and burn every hair on his head."

She is the woman known across the land as the First Beauty of Liaoning.