Dirty Fighting

“Hey, you cowardly delinquent bastard! Don’t run away—fight fair and square!”

She chased him in quick steps all the way to the forest’s edge, shouting, but no reply came back.

“Haa.”

It was obvious. Guerrilla tactics. Kim Taeyang had judged that he couldn’t win a head-on fight against her. He’d hide in the woods and ambush her. Of course, she had no intention of letting him have his way.

“Graffiti, hunting dogs.”

As Shin Sua slowly swung her brush through the air, drawings of two massive dogs took shape.

-Woof...

-Woof woof woof!

The ink-made hounds sniffed at the footprints left on the ground for a moment before lifting their heads and charging at full speed in the direction Kim Taeyang had vanished.

“If you think this Shin Sua will fall for such a shallow trick, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Swinging her brush again to create a sofa, Shin Sua sat down and gently closed her eyes. Activating the empathy ability of her ancestor spirit Shin Yun-bok, the scenes seen by the two ink hunting dogs began flowing directly into her mind.

No matter how nimble he was, he couldn’t shake off the tracking of hunting dogs that pursued traces of spirit power. Shin Sua smirked wickedly at the thought of what face Kim Taeyang would make when he realized he’d become the hunted instead of the hunter lying in wait in the forest.

She imagined him bursting out in a panic, chased by the dogs, and a sinister smile crept across her lips.

Five days since being assigned to Class A. Seol Romi had been feeling increasingly uneasy, and today, her emotions finally exploded.

Three years ago, right after that incident, her childhood friend Mun Hee-jeong had left their hometown without so much as a goodbye. They’d reunited here on the Argo.

The shy girl who used to smile so purely and brightly still had those round, hedgehog-like eyes, but her face was gloomier than Seol Romi could have imagined—something unthinkable from three years ago.

It might be my fault.

With that thought, Seol Romi mustered her courage to meet Mun Hee-jeong’s eyes, but her lips wouldn’t part. Mun Hee-jeong said nothing either.

Despair over their irreparably broken relationship. Seol Romi needed an outlet.

That’s why she’d singled out Gong In-myeong with such an aggressive tone.

Since that tragedy three years ago, she’d given up everything to focus solely on getting stronger. She’d grown by defeating peers stronger than herself one by one. The only loss in her middle school tournaments had been to Gong In-myeong.

Beating him might ease this sticky feeling.

That’s what she’d thought going into the spar.

Surrender. No, I'll forfeit.

Gong In-myeong had appropriately yielded the win to her midway through.

Damn it.

Seol Romi bit her lower lip hard, swallowing her curses. The other students spouted nonsense like her offense being overwhelming or Gong In-myeong being off his game, but she’d seen it.

The pity and guilt in Gong In-myeong’s eyes. To her, it was nothing but humiliating.

She couldn’t move forward like this. She’d run this far on the obsession that she had to always score the absolute best.

Anxiety leaked through her light makeup.

Her rivals weren’t just Gong In-myeong. Shin Sua, whom she’d beaten countless times in tournaments, had grown tremendously too. The blond delinquent with keen instincts had run off right at the start, so no one noticed.

When Shin Sua activated her Spirit Lord Transformation, the chaotic spirit power haze was far more controlled now. After Jang Han-nam pointed out her high spirit consumption, she must have diligently trained her control over Spirit Descent and Spirit Lord Transformation.

That was Shin Sua’s own research into efficiency.

If they fought like this, she could keep Spirit Lord Transformation active the entire match limit without issue.

She looked like a bratty chaebol heir full of bluster, but Seol Romi knew the truth. Shin Sua pretended not to try harder than anyone while secretly pouring desperate effort into backing up her bravado with skill.

And Seol Romi couldn’t admire her rival’s growth purely. Gong In-myeong blocked her from above, Shin Sua rose from below. Blocked by invisible walls, her growth had stalled for three months now.

Watching Shin Sua’s astonishing progress, maybe she could find a clue.

With that thought, Seol Romi glared at the drone camera feed.

But only for a moment.

“What the hell is that bastard doing?”

Confusion spread across Seol Romi’s face as she watched the monitor. Kim Taeyang was stabbing a reverse-gripped knife into his own body.

“......”

A line of drool trickled from Seol Romi’s open mouth.

“Of course not.”

Gemma asked via telepathy, but I nodded firmly again.

I’d thought Shin Sua would follow straight in, but my prediction was off. Peering from the tree, I spotted two hunting dogs racing this way fast.

Since she couldn’t outscore me in the placement exam or first training, she must’ve put some brainpower into it.

But I wasn’t giving up. Just tweak the plan a bit.

I checked Gemma’s info. Unlike Shangju, her stats were ranked alphabetically and impressively high, but most traits and abilities remained locked due to our low bond rank.

Plus, while she handled five or six Spirit Lord Transformations, I could only use this one I’d just acquired.

But if I applied it cleverly, I could catch Shin Sua off guard.

“Less than six minutes left. Cooperate.”

I urged Gemma while eyeing the ink beast charging at incredible speed from afar.

She sighed repeatedly, unhappy with the revised plan, but eventually nodded in agreement.

Damn it. Fine, let’s do it.

“Should’ve said that sooner. No time—hurry.”

I leaped from the tree, drew the blade from my cane.

“Spirit Lord Transformation.”

-Fwaaah!

Ashen energy erupted from Gemma’s spirit body, coalescing over the silver blade into a translucent form. Like a large, classical key sheathing the hilt and blade.

No sharp edge—seemed like it couldn’t cut anything—but this was the peak output I could produce.

“Passepartout.”

That was the name of the Spirit Lord Transformation activated via Gemma’s heirloom swordstick.

I gripped the cane handle reverse, stabbed the blunt key end into my chest. The next instant, a hunting dog burst through the brush, howling furiously.

“Found you.”

A thrilled smile bloomed on Shin Sua’s cheek as her eyes stayed closed. About two minutes into the match, one of the split-off hunting dogs had spotted the target.

Kim Taeyang panicked, collapsing into the brush before scrambling up and fleeing again.

“He’s better at running than I thought.”

His movements were annoyingly quick—must’ve practiced Spirit Descent—but she infused more spirit power into the dogs.

But soon after, she felt an odd dissonance.

Despite the dogs running full tilt, they couldn’t catch him. Even as her lowest-spirit-consumption graffiti-rank drawings, their speed rivaled a decent Shangju’s.

Class A gathered only top scorers like Gong In-myeong and Seol Romi. Thinking back to the placement exam, maybe he’d been hiding his strength—but that hypothesis had a contradiction.

If he could wield Spirit Descent that well, why not fight the dogs?

They were merely derivative abilities of her Spirit Lord Transformation brush drawings. Fast feet, but negligible combat power.

With body specs to outrun them, why keep fleeing? She couldn’t understand.

But Shin Sua wasn’t one to panic.

“That path’s blocked.”

Slowly herding him toward the dome’s edge, she merged the second dog, guiding Kim Taeyang as desired.

Like border collies penning sheep, they’d drag him to the clearing in the forest center where she waited.

“Think you can just run till time’s up? Don’t underestimate me.”

One eye open checked the time—less than a minute left. No problem.

Confirming the dogs had him within 100m, she rose with brush in hand.

“Come.”

Eyes fully open, she hurled a mini screen into the air, staring down the approaching Kim Taeyang.

“Twin Swords Dance.”

A Shin Yun-bok painting of two shrine maidens dancing with swords in hand expanded to her height on the screen.

-Shring!

Swords adorned with ornate tassels appeared one in each of Shin Sua’s hands, drawn from the screen.

-Gooooh!!

The twin blades resonated as if desperately calling to each other. Air vibrations shook the dome. Admiration rose from the stands.

Manifested by Shin Yun-bok’s ancestor power and Shin Sua’s spirit power, the twin swords—true to “swords from the painting”—wielded absolute cutting force.

She could’ve subdued him with other abilities, but this performance was to dazzle the watching teachers and Seol Romi, whom she’d never beaten.

-Clang!

-Whoosh!

Clashing blades lightly, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠then swinging—the untouched ground rock sliced clean.

If Kim Taeyang got cut by this, his artificial relic might save his life, but his clothes would shred publicly, humiliating him.

-Gooooh!

As Shin Sua advanced, the Twin Swords Dance screen orbited her protectively. With its flawless active defense against four-directional attacks, no counter needed worrying.

-Tssst!

Preparations complete, she exploded her physicals with Spirit Descent, charging Kim Taeyang.

30m, 20m—the gap shrank. His eyes swam in chaos. Freaked by the dogs’ grotesque looks, losing his wits? Unarmed, defenseless, just running like an idiot.

No mercy for such a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fool.

“This ends it!!”

Feeling Shin Yun-bok’s blazing golden ancestor power, she swung in an X-slash.

“......?!”

No. She tried to.

Until she saw panicked Kim Taeyang bellowing something.

She’d confirmed his mouth moving nonstop. Not just his mouth—Shin Sua, who’d studied anatomy exhaustively to contract Shin Yun-bok, knew.

His muscle movements matched actual shouting.

Then why couldn’t she hear his voice?

“What in the world...”

Shin Sua wasn’t stupid. With 5m to collision, she pinpointed the dissonance.

Quickly reviewing possibilities, she concluded.

The one charging her wasn’t Kim Taeyang.

“How in the—!”

“Too late.”

She realized as a voice came from behind.

“...Kuh!!”

Whirling, she saw a blunt weapon surging at her.

“You think a cheap trick like this will—!”

But she had a counter.

-Kwang!

The screen had slipped between them, blocking the ambush.

No time to sigh relief and counter.

“Yeah. That’s how cheap tricks beat you.”

Kim ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Taeyang flashed his signature delinquent sneer—the key-sword pierced straight through the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠screen, stabbing for her heart.