Failed Possession Chapter-75

## Ch-75.

—

It was a spar between juniors far beneath them in years.

One might have expected some brief evaluation as they watched—but throughout the entire bout, the Sword Emperor, the Fist King, and Wind Calamity said nothing.

They couldn’t.

Even to Wind Calamity, who did not know enough about martial arts to critique them properly, it was clear that the spar between Thunder Cloud and Sword Dragon was far beyond the ordinary level of the 5th Rank.

In particular, Wind Calamity found himself even less able to speak because, just as Sword Dragon had said, Thunder Cloud held the advantage from beginning to end.

He had already been scolded for letting news of the spar slip to Heavenly Thunder of the Dercia Mage Tower. If he opened his mouth now, he felt he might draw the Sword Emperor’s icy gaze for no reason.

In truth, the Sword Emperor had no such intention.

He had been certain of his grandson’s defeat only seconds after the spar began.

In fact, he had sensed it even before it started.

What surprised him was that Thunder Cloud’s skill far exceeded what he had anticipated.

Sword Dragon had held a wooden sword since the age of five.

He had learned the blade even before opening his dantian and entering the path of internal energy.

Even to the Sword Emperor—who had swung a blade his entire life—his grandson’s talent for the sword was extraordinary.

Yet that sword failed to shine against Thunder Cloud.

What was lacking?

He had not grown arrogant despite his talent. He trained diligently. His sparring had not been insufficient. He had experienced what the Sword Emperor considered enough real combat.

‘So that’s it.’

The answer was not difficult to find.

The difference between Sword Dragon and Thunder Cloud was, ultimately, environment.

The Sword Emperor had already heard of how Thunder Cloud had lived until now—battles where death could come at any moment. Not only one-on-one duels, but chaotic brawls against groups, dozens of times over.

Sword Dragon had sparred and fought real battles as well.

But he had not often walked true life-and-death lines.

The “real combat” he experienced had been battles in which he was protected by fellow knights—fights he was not meant to die in.

Only after recognizing this did the Sword Emperor grasp the source of the spar’s subtle dissonance.

Thunder Cloud’s movements were dangerous.

He faced Radiant Blade—condensed sword-aura that could sever him in an instant—yet there was no hesitation in his motion.

Driving hands and feet boldly into a storm of slashes to sever their trajectories was not something mere courage could accomplish.

A fraction too slow, a single misread of the blade’s path, and he would bleed.

Yet he precisely targeted the razor-thin margins where he would seem cut—but would not be.

That was why he looked perilous.

‘A sense honed by throwing himself onto the line of death.’

His grandson possessed abundant talent—but not that sense.

Such perception is not innate.

It is cultivated through experience.

‘What he used midway resembled the Fist King’s style.’

He had never formally learned from the Fist King—only sparred lightly two days ago.

Thunder Cloud’s martial art was not the Fist King’s.

But what they pursued was the same.

The Sword Emperor let out a dry laugh and glanced at the Fist King.

The Fist King’s expression was utterly serious.

He did not think his art had been stolen.

He knew it was not the same technique.

“What a brazen brat.”

*I’ll teach you a move.*

The Fist King turned the words over in his mind and chuckled again.

He had indeed said that.

But to internalize it so quickly?

“I intended to leave it for later, given his connection to Fist Wolf—but this is making me greedy.”

“Who wouldn’t be?”

The Sword Emperor replied with a smile.

5th Rank at twenty-two.

Not merely high Rank—his foundation was solid and undeniable.

There was no doubt he would one day become a Martial Zenith.

And even now, Thunder Cloud had not yet made an enemy of any great power.

“If I had a daughter, I would have taken him in as a son-in-law.”

“You, who never even married.”

The Sword Emperor clicked his tongue.

“He refused even the commander’s seat of the Orsia Knights.”

“If it were me, I wouldn’t join your knight order either. No matter how talented you are, you’re still just part of the order.”

“Ugh…”

“Is there no way to take him as a disciple? Settle matters with Fist Wolf later—just drag him off by force?”

“Stop it. If he doesn’t want to, do you think he’d treat you as his master?”

“I don’t need to be treated as one. I’ll just toss him my martial art, let him master it on his own, and later he can go around saying, ‘My master was the Fist King, Dokgo Gwi-jin.’ That’s enough.”

Brazen beyond belief.

The Sword Emperor stared at him in disbelief, then shook his head.

“Enough nonsense. Think of a title.”

“A title, hmm…”

“Jeydolf, you offer an opinion too.”

“Thunder Dragon… how about that?”

Wind Calamity offered awkwardly.

“Thunder Dragon?”

“Simply adding ‘Dragon’ to his existing title seems too simplistic. Lacks sincerity.”

He was rebuked the moment he spoke.

*Then why ask me?*

He could not voice the complaint, so he merely smiled sheepishly.

“…”

Do they usually stand someone up in front of everyone and decide their title like this?

Yuri felt unbearable awkwardness and stared at the sky instead.

He understood that “Dragon” was a great honor for the younger generation.

But as someone not born and raised in this world, he struggled to share the sentiment.

‘A title…’

It was not quite the same as a nickname.

Here, a title replaces a name.

If you do not know someone’s name, are not close enough to use it, or if respect outweighs familiarity—you use their title.

In that sense, Estor calling him by name—

It meant recognizing something like friendship on equal footing, beyond formality and reverence.

‘Friend?’

The heir of the Orsia family.

Calling each other by name.

The orphan who once agonized in a cramped Aldor room over how to survive in this world had come this far.

“Have you thought about what you’ll ask?”

Estor, arms crossed nearby, asked.

“If I ask for an elixir, will you give it?”

“I will.”

He answered without hesitation.

The Sword Emperor shot him a sharp glare mid-discussion of Yuri’s title, but Estor ignored him and continued.

“Everything in Orsia will eventually be mine. As far as I know, there are still a few elixirs left.”

“You brat! It may become yours someday, but it is not yours now!”

Unable to hold back, the Sword Emperor barked.

Estor paid him no mind.

“But the elixirs we have now are all older models. They differ from the new one you drank—the one crafted by Alfreon Ascad. Even the old models are the pinnacle of artificial elixirs—but inferior to the new.”

“Is that so?”

“If you intend to ask me for one, do it later. In a few years, the Ascad family will likely send one as a gift. It might even be further improved. Better to receive that than an old model now.”

Estor gave a short laugh.

“Personally, I wouldn’t recommend drinking more elixirs. Your internal energy increases enormously, your lifespan extends—but the transformation isn’t as drastic as the first time.”

“I only asked out of curiosity. I don’t intend to request one.”

He wanted to know the *limit* of what “a favor” meant to Estor.

An elixir—something unattainable even with mountains of gold.

He had even offered future, unreleased models.

It seemed that “a favor” carried significant weight for Estor.

“Then I’ll postpone my request. I don’t have anything I want immediately anyway.”

“How about a gift for me?”

Haryeong approached from where she had been watching.

“Two years ago, I gave Yuri a fine dagger. I’ve yet to receive compensation.”

“Wasn’t that in exchange for my help?”

“You remember well.”

She murmured with her usual expressionless face.

“Still, I did quite a bit for you when you were nothing. I believe I deserve at least one gift.”

“Then say what you want.”

“My hair is neat, so I have no need for hairpins. A dagger, like the one I gave you, would make me very happy.”

Why mention hairpins at all?

Yuri narrowed his eyes at her.

Her expression did not shift in the slightest.

Obviously deliberate.

“You’ve got a nasty personality.”

“My personality is flawless and kind.”

“You say you don’t need hairpins, yet you always wear the same one.”

From the day he first met her two years ago, Haryeong had worn the same hairpin.

A butterfly-shaped ornament.

Finely crafted, clearly expensive—but its faded luster suggested it was quite old.

“It was my mother’s.”

“…I’m sorry.”

He had meant to tease her for contradicting herself—but that answer cut off any further words.

Back on Earth, he had slaughtered countless strangers’ parents with a keyboard from behind a computer screen—but even in that turbulent phase of his life, he had always distinguished between reality and the internet.

“What meaning is there in apologizing with words alone? Show some sincerity.”

“Hmm… a dagger… There are several in Orsia’s treasury…”

Estor muttered without reading the room.

Yuri shot him a glare that clearly meant *shut up*.

No matter what, wasting such a precious “favor” on a dagger would sting.

“I’ll choose one myself and give it to you later.”

“…What?”

She was the one who had asked for a gift—yet when he agreed, she looked genuinely surprised.

Yuri glanced at her.

Her expression was as usual, but her eyes were slightly wider.

“You truly intend to give me one?”

“You asked.”

“I did say so, but I didn’t expect someone as tactless as you to agree so easily.”

“I don’t think I deserve to be called tactless…”

“When will you give it?”

Her widened eyes returned to normal.

“The sooner, the better.”

“It’s not like you need it immediately. You already have plenty of daggers.”

“You’ve never thrown a dagger, so you wouldn’t know—but the more daggers, the better.”

Annoyingly persuasive.

“Ah, don’t worry. I won’t use the dagger you give me for throwing.”

“…Thank you.”

If “the sooner the better” was the case, he clearly couldn’t just buy some ordinary blade from a weapon shop.

It was true that before he had properly entered martial arts, Haryeong had taught him various things. And after Fist Wolf left Lutran, she had continued giving him advice.

‘Black fang served me well, too.’

The dagger he had thrown to kill the Old Withered Crone was still tucked in his clothes.

‘The Fist King’s method worked to some extent—but I’m still far from using it properly.’

Thirty years had passed, and this was not the game.

Whether the Fist King’s martial art was still “Ten-Thousand Waves Severing Fist” or not, it differed vastly from its in-game performance.

If Yuri had to compare—

*Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist* was like “evasion.” In game terms, while casting the skill, enemy attacks would MISS.

*Ten-Thousand Waves Severing Fist* forcibly canceled an opponent’s skill by striking during their casting motion.

Either way, in reality—not a game—it required reading the opponent’s move.

‘Or seeing and judging instantly.’

Not easy.

Yuri could read moves to some degree, but what allowed him to apply the Fist King’s technique against Sword Dragon was his mastery of *Violet Lightning Flash Art*.

Thanks to that, he held a speed advantage and could restrict Sword Dragon’s sword paths as intended.

‘Against someone faster than me, severing their flow would be difficult.’

The shortcomings could be compensated with H
Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist.

Even if he only severed what could be severed while redirecting attacks, he would deserve Sword Dragon’s comment—*“you fight like a bastard.”*

‘Still… my build is starting to take shape.’

He could not assign penalty skills like in the game.

His skill set was different.

But the conceptual build was similar.

Rantian Flowing Cloud Fist and Storm-wind Cloud Steps for evasion.
The Fist King’s canceling technique.
Later, if he could use Withered Eternal Source, that would cover life absorption.
Violet Lightning Flash Art for speed.
Evil-Quelling Heavenly Principle Technique for attack power.
And as a finisher—Blazing Burst Fist.

‘If I complete this, it might even surpass the game character.’

In theory.

But unlike manipulating a keyboard, here he had to judge and move himself.

“Cloud Dragon.”

A voice suddenly cut into his thoughts.

“How about Cloud Dragon?”

It was the Sword Emperor.

‘They said Thunder Dragon was too simple and insincere…’

Yet the one who had criticized that was now nodding in approval.

Wind Calamity, who had been scolded earlier, forced a smile.

“Could mean a dragon within the clouds—or a dragon rising upon them. You have not long borne great fame, yet you’ve gained attention in a single stroke. It suits you, does it not?”

It was not an atmosphere in which he could refuse.

And truthfully, it was not a title he disliked.

‘Cloud Dragon…’

What was this ticklish feeling?

His chest felt itchy, his face warm, his fingertips tingling.

“If you like it, you may say so.”

Warm breath brushed his ear.

Startled, he glanced sideways.

Haryeong stood there with a subtle curve to her lips.

[You could’ve used voice transmission—why whisper?]

[I wanted to see that reaction. Anyway, if you like it, say so. Don’t overthink your expression.]

[I don’t particularly like it.]

[Don’t lie. Senior figures far above you personally granted that title. As far as I know, you’re the first junior to receive a title directly from the Sword Emperor.]

[What about Estor?]

[No matter how much he dotes on his grandson, he’s not shameless enough to name him Sword Dragon himself.]

Whether he liked it or not was hard to say.

But it was true that the Sword Emperor, the Fist King, and the Master of the Selvis Mage Tower had granted him a title.

If he stood silent, the goodwill he had built would crumble, and he’d look like an insolent junior.

“It is an honor.”

So Yuri gave the proper answer.

He even smiled—proud and pleased.

The expression came naturally.

“So, Cloud Dragon Yuri. When are you leaving?”

Estor, who had been nodding with satisfaction as if the title were his own, suddenly asked.

“I don’t wish to overstay my welcome. I plan to leave tomorrow.”

He answered modestly.

“I’m coming too.”

His expression changed before he could think.

*What?*

*Why?*

The disbelief showed plainly.

“Oh?”

Before Yuri could respond, the Sword Emperor exclaimed.

“Estor, that is the best thing you’ve said today. It seems your spar with Cloud Dragon gave you much to reflect on?”

“Yes.”

The Sword Emperor clearly had no intention of stopping him.

“It could be dangerous if you come with us—”

“Danger is what I seek.”

“He needs to experience danger. I cannot keep him in Panteleon forever. I was worried when he went alone to Evil Hamlet—but with Cloud Dragon and Dark Blossom, he should be fine.”

“We’re planning to visit the Black Dragon Society’s Salho Gate…”

“As long as it’s not the Demonic Cult or heretics, I don’t mind.”

“We have no ties to Salho Gate, but we have strong ties to the Black Dragon Society’s Six Branches—particularly the Dancheon Blade Sect. I still exchange gifts annually with its leader, Blood Heaven Blade Paeng Hu.”

“That Paeng fellow isn’t bad for someone of the dark path. He should be 7th Rank by now, don’t you think, Brother?”

“Last year I heard he needed only to cross one more wall. He may reach 7th Rank within the year.”

The Sword Emperor and the Fist King conversed.

[What’s the issue? I don’t mind if Sword Dragon comes.]

[But…]

[You’re a Possessor. You’ll need to watch your words and actions around him. Still, from an outside perspective, it’s better to travel with him.]

Yuri considered.

Even traveling alone with Haryeong, he would not openly declare himself a Possessor.

But now that he had gained fame, suspicions could arise.

If he traveled with Orsia’s Sword Dragon, many doubts would vanish.

“You pay the travel expenses.”

After some thought, Yuri said.

“I’ve got plenty of money.”

Estor grinned in response.