Failed Possession Chapter-73

## Ch-73

—

Fortunately, the day of the promised spar dawned beneath a clear sky.

Sword Dragon, who had risen early, checked the weather outside his window with a bright, delighted smile.

Even if the sky had been overcast or rain had fallen, he would never have postponed the match.

Throughout the month that Thunder Cloud had stayed at the Orsia Clan, Sword Dragon had counted down the days in his heart, reducing the number one by one as he waited for today. Having longed for it so fervently, there was no chance he would delay it.

If it rained, they would spar in the rain. If, by some chance, Thunder Cloud disliked that, he would have grabbed Wind Calamity Jeydolf Selvis, the Tower Master of the Selvis Magic Tower, and begged him to clear the sky by any means necessary.

“What a splendid day.”

Sword Dragon did not bother restraining the spreading grin. He sat cross-legged on the floor.

The moment he entered meditation, the smile vanished.

The image he had replayed dozens, hundreds of times over the past month filled his mind.

That underground chamber. He based it on Thunder Cloud’s movements from the battle against the Old Withered Crone. To that, he added the internal energy and physical prowess enhanced by the Elixir. Then the training he had observed firsthand at the estate’s training ground—he layered that on and simulated the spar.

The process differed each time.

The result was always the same.

Thunder Cloud won. Sword Dragon lost.

He *could* force a victory. But such victories were riddled with too much contrivance to be of any real use.

For instance, if Thunder Cloud happened to eat something bad the day before and suffered stomach trouble…

Or if it were not a spar, but a duel to the death.

In those cases, the outcome shifted—yet even then, out of ten death matches, he would win perhaps three.

‘Maybe one now.’

Ironically, his odds had been better in a death match. Only by unleashing his Radiant Sword from the very beginning and overwhelming Thunder Cloud could he achieve a thirty percent chance of victory. But after watching the spar with the Fist King two days ago, even that thirty percent had evaporated into ten.

It was exhilarating.

He simulated a death match. The image ended with his head exploding beneath Thunder Cloud’s fist.

Sword Dragon opened his eyes, feeling a tremor run through his entire body.

“Opportunities like this are rare.”

Sweat soaked him through from the intensity of the visualization. Rising on trembling legs, he grinned.

“Reality will differ from imagination. That’s why it’ll be even more fun.”

He had lived a life where being hailed as a genius was natural. He had learned the sword from the Sword Emperor, the counterpart to the Heavenly Demon, since childhood. He had consumed dozens of spiritual medicines—more than some would taste in a lifetime—and even drank the Elixir.

He knew the world was filled with the strong.

Yet he had never doubted that someday he would stand equal to them—or surpass them.

It was only natural that he was weaker than the current Martial Zeniths who ruled the world. There was a gap of decades between them.

But there was no such gap between him and Thunder Cloud.

If anything, in terms of *time* and *environment*, Sword Dragon was overwhelmingly advantaged.

That was why this spar—and the defeat it promised—held immense value.

A frog that had lived its life inside the well called Panteleon, wrapped in the shell of “genius,” shattering upon seeing the real world.

Such an experience could not be bought with money.

After washing and dressing, he knocked on the door of the Patriarch’s office. There were guests inside.

The Fist King, who had arrived unexpectedly two days ago.

And Wind Calamity Jeydolf Selvis.

With thick fingers, Jeydolf lifted a dessert piled high with whipped cream and flashed Sword Dragon a broad smile.

“Well now, Estor. In good health?”

“I’m always in good health.”

Sword Dragon bowed respectfully.

“Tower Master Selvis, you appear even more robust than when I last saw you.”

“Haha! Robust? I’ve simply gotten fatter.”

Jeydolf laughed, slapping his round belly with his other hand.

“Have you come to observe my spar as well, Tower Master?”

Still chewing the dessert he had stuffed into his mouth, Jeydolf nodded.

“Truth be told, I’ve little interest in Thunder Cloud or Dark Flower. Ahem—Heavenly Thunder sent me a personal request.”

“Heavenly Thunder… of the Dercia Magic Tower?”

“Mmm~ that’s right. Orca Dercia. When was it? Ah yes—when we erected a barrier at the Uzra Rift, I formed ties with her.”

Tower Masters were not necessarily friendly with one another. Though collectively called “Magic Towers,” each pursued different branches of magic and operated independently.

The Rudella Tower was derisively called corpse-lovers. The Havert and Lefer Towers had a long-standing feud. In Oxybel, the Lucionel and Casword Towers fought one another like mortal enemies. Many others were entangled in grudges or shared interests.

Unlike them, the Dercia and Selvis Towers maintained peaceful relations with others. Especially since Jeydolf inherited the Selvis name twenty years ago, he had firmly stood with the moderate faction.

“Heavenly Thunder contacted me and asked that I take a look at Thunder Cloud.”

“Heavenly Thunder is a troublesome woman.”

The Sword Emperor muttered, casting an irritated glance at Jeydolf.

“How does Heavenly Thunder even know about the spar?”

“Cough…”

“Jeydolf. I asked you in advance to prepare a barrier for the spar, in case something happened. I didn’t expect your tongue to be so loose.”

“P-Patriarch, it wasn’t exactly a secret, was it?”

“Even so, passing it along at your own discretion is unpleasant.”

“Our Tower labored greatly in eliminating the heretics at Evil Hamlet this time, did it not? Since the Sword Emperor did not personally intervene, I had to drag this large body of mine—”

“Why would either of us need to intervene to catch rats? And you could stand to move that body a bit more.”

At the rebuke, sweat beaded on Jeydolf’s forehead.

“My apologies. If you wish, I shall refrain from informing Heavenly Thunder of today’s spar…”

“That would put you in a difficult position. No matter. As you said, it’s hardly a secret.”

The Sword Emperor glanced at his grandson.

“Or would it be better kept secret?”

“Why ask me?”

“You can roughly guess the outcome yourself. So can I. Unless you achieve some extraordinary enlightenment mid-spar, it will be hard to defeat that boy.”

“I am not so petty as to hide defeat for the sake of face.”

Sword Dragon answered proudly.

“You may even release a statement as before. ‘Sword Dragon’s blade broken by Thunder Cloud!’”

“And what’s there to boast about in that? You may not care for face, but the Orsia Clan does. We are the Pride of the Cartel.”

The Sword Emperor grumbled, then turned to Jeydolf.

“So why is Heavenly Thunder interested in Thunder Cloud?”

“You know as well, Patriarch. Before becoming a wanderer, Thunder Cloud was quite close to Heavenly Thunder’s disciple— Marigold.”

“So she dotes on her disciple. For Heavenly Thunder to take interest like this…”

“Well~ she has reason. In terms of talent alone, she stands on equal footing with Estor here.”

Jeydolf hastily shifted the topic.

“The Dercia Tower has a promising next generation. Not only Marigold—there’s another outstanding one as well. Though I suppose calling her a ‘child’ no longer fits.”

“Lacey Yuzuha?”

“Yes, yes. I thought she would naturally become Heavenly Thunder’s disciple…”

“So. Did she ask you to bring back information for her disciple’s sake?”

“Mm… not only that. Heavenly Thunder herself is interested in Thunder Cloud. Two years ago, she gave him a lightning-attributed martial art. She’s curious how well he’s using it.”

At that answer, the Fist King burst into laughter.

“I see. Fist Wolf didn’t practice that kind of martial art. I’d wondered why the brat’s epithet was Thunder Cloud. So he received a technique from Heavenly Thunder as well?”

“When one has talent, one is favored. I myself gave Thunder Cloud an Elixir.”

“Elix—!”

Khuhp! Jeydolf nearly choked on his dessert, clutching his throat in shock. He barely managed to swallow and steady his breathing.

“E-Elixir! You gave him something that precious?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“How could I not be? I’ve never even *seen* one in my life!”

“Try asking Heavenly Thunder to get you one.”

Even if he asked, there was no chance he would receive one. Though relations were friendly, among the Tower Masters Jeydolf was practically the junior. To him, Heavenly Thunder was a difficult figure.

Staring blankly at the ceiling, Jeydolf let out a hollow laugh.

“An Elixir… an Elixir!”

The Ascad Family maintained connections everywhere, carefully cultivating their network—but none of those lines extended to the Selvis Magic Tower. Jeydolf secretly felt resentful of that fact.

“Patriarch, may I ask out of pure curiosity—was the Elixir you gave Thunder Cloud the latest model?”

“It was. Personally manufactured by Alfreon.”

“Ughhhh…”

Not even an older stockpile version—but the new Elixir crafted by that genius alchemist, Alfreon Ascad!

As far as Jeydolf knew, the only ones to receive the new Elixir as gifts were powerful collaborators such as Heavenly Thunder and the Orsia Clan. Even if Selvis tried to establish ties with the Ascads now, the best they could hope for would be an older model.

Yet Thunder Cloud, who had only just gained renown, had consumed a *new* Elixir…

“So. How’s your condition?”

Ignoring Jeydolf’s pained groans, the Sword Emperor looked at Sword Dragon. Massaging his joints and muscles, Sword Dragon grinned.

“I slept well. I’m in perfect shape.”

“Then you won’t have excuses if you lose.”

“Yes. If I lose today, it will simply mean I am weaker than Thunder Cloud.”

“What a boast, you brat.”

Though he clicked his tongue, the Sword Emperor’s expression was not displeased.

His grandson had grown without obstruction. Yet even for a genius, walls inevitably appeared. They might be psychological. They might concern martial attainment. They might be another person.

To encounter such a wall at this stage and fall once was necessary.

Long ago, the Sword Emperor himself had tasted despair before the Heavenly Demon of the Demonic Cult. In his immature youth, trapped within his awareness of being a genius and the arrogance that accompanied it.

Because he was unaccustomed to defeat and despair, that despair had been unbearably painful. How many wasted years had followed? He did not wish his cherished grandson to walk that same path.

Fortunately, his grandson was almost excessively positive. Though somewhat arrogant, he possessed the humility to acknowledge those stronger than himself.

Most importantly—Thunder Cloud was not an enemy. Rather, Sword Dragon held him in high regard. Beyond learning from defeat, perhaps their bond would deepen.

That would be good for the Sword Emperor and the Orsia Clan. Thunder Cloud already lacked nothing to be called a dragon. Someday, he might even rise to become a Martial Zenith.

There was no reason to make such a man an enemy.

“Then I shall go prepare.”

He had come merely to pay respects. Having done so, Sword Dragon bowed and left the room.

The training ground, still empty, was enclosed by an invisible barrier—prepared in case the spar grew intense.

Sword Dragon grinned and sat cross-legged outside the barrier, closing his eyes.

After several defeats within meditation, he opened his eyes and glanced sideways.

At some point, Thunder Cloud had arrived and was sitting a short distance away. Behind him stood Dark Flower.

“Even if it’s your family’s courtyard, aren’t you a bit too defenseless?”

“So you stood guard for me?”

“I meditated too. Lady Haryeong stood guard.”

Haryeong, who had been standing with her hands behind her back, brought one hand forward and flashed a V-sign at Sword Dragon.

He snorted.

“How’s your condition?”

“Good.”

“Glad to hear it.”

It was time.

The Sword Emperor, the Fist King, and Wind Calamity entered the training ground. Hundreds of Orsia knights and household staff gathered around to watch.

“Uncomfortable with so many spectators?”

“Not particularly.”

As the two rose, Wind Calamity stepped forward and flicked his wand. The previously invisible barrier shimmered and opened wide.

“Rather than just sparring, wouldn’t it be more entertaining to add a light wager?”

It was Sword Dragon who spoke. Drawing his sword from its scabbard, he smiled.

“The loser grants one request to the winner—within reasonable limits. What do you say?”

“Isn’t that disadvantageous for you?”

Thunder Cloud had no weapon to draw. Instead, he rolled his wrists and ankles as he replied.

“You’re the young master of the Orsia Clan. I have no backing. Even if you win, there aren’t many requests you could make of me.”

“I don’t mind.”

Sword Dragon smiled.

“You may have no backing now—but that won’t last forever.”

“So even if you win, you won’t demand the request immediately?”

“It doesn’t matter if you don’t either. If you win, save it for ten years from now—until I become head of the Orsia Clan.”

“Shouldn’t you get permission from the Sword Emperor first?”

“I’m not asking him to spar in my place. Why would I need permission?”

The Sword Emperor naturally heard that answer. Having nothing to retort, he merely sighed deeply.

Thunder Cloud did not answer immediately. He thought.

He would only know for certain once they fought—but by his estimation, he held about a seventy percent advantage. And that was without using Blazing Burst Fist. If he used that one-strike kill technique, he believed victory would be certain.

But he could not use Blazing Burst Fist.

Its power was too difficult to control. Against Sword Dragon—someone he must absolutely not kill—it was unusable. And martial artists like the Sword Emperor or the Fist King would likely recognize it.

‘A request…’

As he had pointed out, the terms were disadvantageous for Sword Dragon. Yet Sword Dragon had proposed them first.

‘If someday the War Church discovers I’m a possessor and hunts me down… could I ask Sword Dragon for help?’

Would Sword Dragon remain favorable after learning the truth? He could not be sure. But over the past month, Thunder Cloud had seen enough to know—Sword Dragon was not the sort to discard a promise due to personal feelings.

“Alright.”

At Thunder Cloud’s answer, Sword Dragon smiled.

“Then let’s begin.”

Victory would be decided when one side declared defeat or could no longer continue. Neither of them were immature fighters; ideally, they would withdraw before things grew too heated and accept a concession.

—Fwoooosh!

The sword Sword Dragon extended was enveloped in golden light.

‘Radiant Sword?’

Too extreme for a spar. Not only its power—the time required to form it was too long. From what Thunder Cloud had observed underground, at Sword Dragon’s current level it required three full minutes.

There was no reason to wait that long. If Sword Dragon attempted to prepare a full Radiant Sword from the start, it would be a terrible move. Thunder Cloud was confident he could kill him a hundred times in three minutes before it fully formed.

‘No. Not Radiant Sword.’

Thunder Cloud’s foot shot forward.

A simplified version, perhaps. A condensed golden sword-aura fixed tightly to Sword Dragon’s blade without overflowing.

‘So this is what he completed after a month under the Sword Emperor.’

The cohesion of the internal energy was on an entirely different level from ordinary sword-aura. If he collided carelessly, his own aura would shatter.

Ordinary aura, yes.

But Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique did not fall into that category. Its flames burned anything they touched as fuel.

Sword Dragon surely knew that.

‘So you want to test it.’

Thunder Cloud did as well.

Could this simplified Radiant Sword resist the flames of Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique?

—Crackle! Lightning mixed into the foot pressing against the ground.

‘Curiosity aside, throwing a fist against sword-aura is madness.’

The foundation of a martial artist was to evade the enemy’s weapon and strike the body. To thrust one’s hand into a blade out of misplaced confidence was foolish.

If fists were stronger than swords when both wielded aura, why train in the sword at all? Breaking blades barehanded was a parlor trick for vastly weaker opponents.

Sword Dragon was anything but that.