Urban Vagabond: Reload

“Grandpa!”

At Bu Yeonha’s low but forceful voice, Na Ilcheon snapped back to his senses.

‘Damn it....’

His face immediately twisted into a deeply embarrassed look.

What he’d just blurted out was one of the AZURE SKY SWORD GATE’s most important secrets.

‘I really am getting old. My mouth’s going loose.’

That was how shocking it had been.

Even he hadn’t been able to properly see the founder’s form until ten years after inheriting the Namcheon Sword from the previous sect leader.

When he turned around, he saw the founder staring at him with an expression that practically screamed pathetic.

“...Will you keep what you’re seeing right now a secret?”

At Na Ilcheon’s grave voice, Kim Muhyuk nodded.

“I will never tell anyone.”

Even Kim Muhyuk thought it wasn’t something that should ever become public.

That bluish ghost that had appeared when Na Ilcheon drew his sword was the AZURE SKY SWORD GATE’s founder?

What kind of grudge could be so deep that he couldn’t pass on and instead clung to his own sword?

“...It seems you’re misunderstanding. What you’re seeing as the founder is not actually his soul.”

“It’s not? But just now—”

“The spirit that lingers in the sword merely takes on the founder’s appearance, so we call it that. We’ve called it that for so long, it became a habit for me as well.”

Na Ilcheon let out a hollow laugh, then slowly continued as he ran a finger along the blade.

“The founder’s presence seeped into it for a long time, and the sword gained spirituality. After that, successors who learned the same martial arts cherished it as a sacred object—treating it as though they were facing the founder himself... As time passed, the Namcheon Sword’s spirit gradually took form. It hasn’t even been a hundred years since it became what you see now.”

When Na Ilcheon glanced back as if asking whether he was wrong, the Namcheon Sword’s spirit went—

“HMPH—”

It really did look less like the soul of some lofty martial master and more like an adolescent boy.

“We kept it secret because we worried people would misunderstand the way you did. It could even become a stain on the founder’s honor.”

“...I understand what you mean.”

Listening to the explanation, Kim Muhyuk realized one crucial fact.

A cursed sword’s spirituality grows stronger through its owner’s qi.

‘Then Phantom Dream might have grown stronger and stronger as it changed owners.’

Of course, it wouldn’t be like the Namcheon Sword, absorbing pure orthodox qi for a long time.

It would’ve been the opposite—driving the swordsmen who held it insane, and feeding on madness and blood.

While Kim Muhyuk sank into thought, Na Ilcheon spoke with a grim expression.

“It can’t be helped. You’ve learned a major secret of the sect, so there’s only one option left—sign the initiation contract.”

“...You’re joking, right?”

“I’m about half serious. Is there really no way?”

Bu Yeonha, who’d been listening, cut in.

“Stop it, Grandpa. A second ago you told me to give up before I got rejected.”

When Kim Muhyuk also nodded with an awkward expression, Na Ilcheon smacked his lips like he truly regretted it.

“I regret it enough that I’m starting to change my mind. A pinnacle expert who awakened spirit sight at only twenty—how could I not?”

Saying that he’d promised, so he would teach him how to handle cursed swords, Na Ilcheon spoke to Kim Muhyuk with a slightly sulky face.

“First: you use spirit sight to see the cursed sword’s spirit. Right now, what exactly does the Namcheon Sword’s spirit look like to you?”

Kim Muhyuk described it exactly as he saw it—the Namcheon Sword’s spirit standing behind Na Ilcheon.

“It’s almost the same as what I saw on the statue. Ah—its clothes are different. The statue had a long robe, but the spirit’s dressed in light martial robes. And... I think its nose is a little lower than the statue’s. Under its right eye—maybe that’s a mole? It’s faint, so I’m not sure.”

“What the...”

Na Ilcheon stared at Kim Muhyuk like he was looking at a monster, and Bu Yeonha also asked with a stunned expression.

“You can see it that clearly?”

“Senior, you can’t see it?”

“...I can tell the bluish mist is roughly human-shaped. That’s about it.”

“Ah. Just now it shook its head like you were pathetic.”

“So I’m not the weird one—he is.”

Bu Yeonha grumbled as if protesting to Namcheon’s spirit, which she could only see as bluish.

She was one of the most talented disciples in the AZURE SKY SWORD GATE—so much so that people were practically certain she would become the next sect leader.

But being treated as lacking by the sect’s sacred object seemed to have struck a nerve.

“Getting worked up only hurts you. Even this old man had a hard time at first.”

Na Ilcheon smiled at his granddaughter, then looked back at Kim Muhyuk.

“Still... your spirit sight is opened to an eerie degree. Even outstanding spellcasters and shamans can’t see with that level of detail...”

There was both amazement and worry in the way Na Ilcheon trailed off, so Kim Muhyuk asked carefully.

“Is that... bad?”

“Anything taken too far can become poison. Do you have any idea why your spirit sight is like this? An ancestor who was a great spellcaster or shaman, perhaps...”

Kim Muhyuk fell silent as a single possibility surfaced in his mind.

‘Could it be connected to my regression?’

In my previous life, right as death closed in, Dr. Man’s spell sent me back into the past.

Maybe I took some unknown influence then—and that’s why my spirit sight opened.

I couldn’t be sure. And even if it was true, it wasn’t like I could say, “It’s because I regressed.”

“...I don’t have any guesses. I don’t know why, either.”

“Hm. I see.”

As if he hadn’t expected a clear answer in the first place, Na Ilcheon nodded and continued.

“Second: you must hold the sword properly.”

“...What?”

“It sounds strange, doesn’t it? Just do it for now.”

With a peculiar smile, Na Ilcheon sheathed the sword again and slid it toward Kim Muhyuk.

Kim Muhyuk took it carefully—and the moment he lightly curled his hand around the hilt—

“...!”

He released the sword immediately, frowning hard as he stared at the Namcheon Sword lying on the table.

Na Ilcheon burst into laughter like he’d expected it.

“Ha ha ha! Surprised? Everyone reacts like that the first time. But you’re worse than I thought. It’s not enough to make you drop it...”

“If I held on any longer, it felt like my palm would get burned, so I let go. Was I supposed to keep holding it no matter what?”

Na Ilcheon’s playful expression hardened at Kim Muhyuk’s question.

“...Burned? It wasn’t just a little static shock?”

Kim Muhyuk answered by flipping his palm up.

Even though he’d held it for only that brief instant, his skin was reddened like he’d been burned.

Bu Yeonha shot up from her seat in alarm.

“Wait here. I’ll get burn ointment.”

“W-what is this... I’m sorry.”

Na Ilcheon checked Kim Muhyuk’s palm with a flustered face, then spoke in a serious voice.

“It would be better for you not to hold cursed swords at all.”

“Why are you saying that all of a sudden...?”

Na Ilcheon explained the reasons one by one.

A cursed sword has an anomaly dwelling within it—but the anomaly itself can’t properly use its own power.

In other words, to draw out the cursed sword’s power, it needs a conduit.

“Martial artists like us serve as that conduit. But at first, most people can’t even draw out one tenth of the sword’s power.”

By keeping the cursed sword close for a long time and training relentlessly, you could increase that limit little by little.

Even so, for most people, drawing out seventy percent was the ceiling.

And that was the standard for top masters who had at least reached Sword-and-Mind Unity.

“But you drew out nearly half of the Namcheon Sword’s power from the very start. Do you understand how dangerous that is?”

It meant an unrefined conduit had been thrown wide open.

It also meant the cursed sword’s power could surge out of control at any moment.

“With a righteous orthodox sacred weapon like the Namcheon Sword, there won’t be much trouble. But if you ever grip a truly wicked cursed sword, your mind could be devoured on the spot.”

“......”

It was a chilling warning that dragged Phantom Dream’s bloodbath back into view.

But even so, I had no intention of giving up without even trying.

World-famous masters owned famous sacred weapons as well—blades as renowned as their owners.

That was true of Richard Han too.

‘They say Richard Han nearly fell into an Inner Demon several times while trying to tame his divine sword.’

I wanted to stand on equal footing with him someday.

And I wanted to surpass him.

“...In other words.”

After a short silence, Kim Muhyuk repeatedly opened and closed the hand where Bu Yeonha had applied ointment, then spoke.

“Doesn’t that also mean... if I train, I can draw out a cursed sword’s power perfectly—one hundred percent?”

Eyes that would never quit.

Na Ilcheon liked seeing that sort of fire in the younger generation, but this time he answered with cold, almost ruthless clarity.

“Did you not hear my warning? Or did people praising you make you arrogant that quickly?”

“I’m not ignoring your advice, Sect Leader. But even so, I want to try.”

“And if I refuse to teach you how to handle cursed swords?”

At Na Ilcheon’s icy question, Kim Muhyuk stood up.

He gave a respectful clasped-fist salute.

“I’m grateful for what you’ve already taught me. I won’t cause the AZURE SKY SWORD GATE any further trouble.”

“Is that your way of saying you’ll give up?”

Kim Muhyuk answered by grinning.

Na Ilcheon felt the stubbornness in that expression and let out a sigh.

“You truly are a breed that’s mad for the sword.”

“I don’t know why, but... honestly, I hear that a lot.”

Kim Muhyuk scratched the back of his head, looking genuinely clueless.

Na Ilcheon glared at that shameless face, then exhaled heavily, over and over.

“Hoo......”

If that young, dazzling talent ended up ruined someday because of a cursed sword, his sleep would be plagued with nightmares.

In the end, he had no choice but to hand over what he knew to a junior so distant he might as well have been from another world.

“Come every day at this time.”

“...You mean?”

“I’ll train you so you can hold the Namcheon Sword for one hour a day. You stubborn mule!”

At Na Ilcheon’s bark, Kim Muhyuk—who’d been hoping for exactly that—broke into a bright smile.

*****

From that day on, Kim Muhyuk came to the AZURE SKY SWORD GATE every day.

Naturally, the disciples’ gazes couldn’t help gathering.

‘They say he’s being taught by the sect leader?’

‘And he meets Bu Yeonha every single day...’

‘Isn’t he going to join soon?’

Envy and jealousy drilled into the back of his head, and whispers followed him everywhere, but Kim Muhyuk had no intention of explaining himself.

‘It’s not exactly wrong that I’m receiving instruction.’

It just wasn’t instruction in swordsmanship.

At the same time every day, Kim Muhyuk held the Namcheon Sword in front of Na Ilcheon.

CHIIIIIISS......!

The moment he gripped it, heat poured into his palm like it would cook the flesh.

When he started getting used to the heat, cold flooded in like it would give him frostbite.

Sometimes it hurt like his palm was being scored with a razor-sharp blade.

But through every kind of pain, Kim Muhyuk simply clenched his teeth in silence—never letting out a single scream.

Watching him, Na Ilcheon marveled.

“You’re a hardcase. A real hardcase.”

“...Honestly, it’s kind of good. If I finish this training, I don’t think I’ll ever let go of a sword no matter what—ngh.”

“Focus. Don’t provoke the spirit and make it hurt you even more.”

At the same instant he gripped the sword, Kim Muhyuk stared straight at the bluish Namcheon Sword spirit that appeared before his eyes.

‘Can’t you give me permission already?’

In his mind, he spoke to the Namcheon Sword. The brat answered with a snort.

Na Ilcheon had said the conduit was already connected, so even thoughts would carry through.

“First, you get used to it. Second, you understand the spirit. If you can do just those two things, you’ll be able to hold the sword properly.”

Na Ilcheon warned him that trying to suppress a cursed sword by force was one of the most foolish choices.

“To overpower a sacred weapon by strength, you need to be at least a top master. Even then, you’re not making it submit—you’re only restraining it temporarily. A cursed sword handled that way isn’t even better than an iron blade. So don’t use force. Understand it.”

There was pride in his words—the pride of the Namcheon Sword’s current owner.

“I guarantee it: if you can truly hold the Namcheon Sword properly, no cursed sword will ever devour you.”

With that counsel, Kim Muhyuk gripped the Namcheon Sword every day, spoke to it, and tried to understand the brat.

After a few days, there was one thing he understood for certain.

‘You’re really stubborn. And your pride is no joke, either.’

At that, the Namcheon Sword’s mouth twitched.

As if to say, You’re only figuring that out now? it crossed its arms and lifted its chin with a smug face.

Seeing that childish, boyish look, Kim Muhyuk let out a quiet snort of laughter.

‘But I’m not any less than you, either.’

Kim Muhyuk didn’t overestimate himself.

But he also didn’t believe his will was lacking for handling a cursed sword.

‘I have to leave for Jeju Island soon. So let’s settle this already.’

Kim Muhyuk pulled out a bandage he’d brought in advance and began wrapping it around the hand holding the sword.

“You—what do you think you’re doing right now?!”

Even as Na Ilcheon tried to stop him, Kim Muhyuk tightly bound his hand and the sword hilt together, cinching it down hard.

CHIIIIIISS-!

Horrific heat, freezing cold, and slicing pain hit him all at once—

and Kim Muhyuk smiled instead.