Courage
A beginner's battle relied entirely on physical prowess. The one who was faster and stronger would strike first and end it there. The opponent, crippled by pain from the initial blow, couldn't mount a proper counterattack and would lose. That was the basics.
Once they started learning a bit, it came down to who landed their technique first. Even if the enemy struck first, blocking successfully and countering meant victory; failing to block meant defeat. That's why proper swordsmanship training divided counters by the most common attacks, drilling them until blocking and riposting became instinct.
But when one gained mana and became a superhuman, a whole new world opened up. The realm of mana users was utterly different from what ordinary people perceived. Attacks without mana could be easily blocked by mana-reinforced skin, leaving martial arts-infused strikes as the only option, handled on pure instinct.
There were freakish techniques like Salmon Defying the Current, which ignored defenses and barreled through; counters that turned blocks against you; moves impossible to dodge, forcing a block; and all manner of bizarre arts. No one could know them all—you had to react on gut feeling in the moment.
"Urk!"
Trois Jabs
Pizan barely dodged the rapier splitting into three blades aimed at his vitals. To evade the Blue Shark Head's beak stabbing at his heart, he slammed his buckler into the creature's head. The beak grazed his shoulder, shredding the tough sea-beast leather armor. As the Blue Shark Head's jaw lifted its body slightly, Pizan hooked its ankle, trying to topple it.
But tripping an opponent in superhuman fights was nearly impossible without specialized arts. A human's fall topped out at 9.8 m/s under gravity—superhumans could exchange multiple clashes mid-tumble, regaining balance or shoving back with ease. Especially for a Blue Shark Head wielding precise thrusts on an unstable ship; falling while stabbing was child's play.
'Pierce its throat the instant it closes in.'
As it raised its rapier, watching Pizan approach, the Blue Shark Head sensed something off. Pizan, who mostly slashed with his cutlass, had assumed a thrusting stance. Cutlasses were shorter and blunter than rapiers, unsuited for thrusts—cutlass styles rarely used them.
Yet here he was, body pulled back, buckler guarding, drawing the cutlass like a bowstring, tip aimed right at it. The Blue Shark Head tried to scramble up fast.
'Damn, my arm!'
The Blue Shark Head thrust its arm to push off the sand and retreat, but it hadn't touched ground yet.
Flesh-Tearing Shark
Whoosh—crack!
Kicking off the sand, Pizan propelled forward, cutlass slicing for the Blue Shark Head's neck. Less a thrust than shoving the blade along the body for friction-shear, it left a messy gash despite the keen edge and speed.
"Graaah!"
The Blue Shark Head didn't just take it. Its beak targeted Pizan's head, rapier his chest—but Pizan blocked the beak with his buckler as if expecting it, though the rapier pierced his shoulder. Hitting sand, it shoved back far with one hand's strength, grinning fishily at the shallower-than-expected wound.
Pizan had landed two vital hits already, but lacked power for lethality. Good thing I got Naru's blessing, it thought gratefully for the ironclad shark-scale gift, mocking Pizan.
"Keh heh heh, too bad. No chance for you now!"
With distance opened, it resolved to finish him with its killer move, Preying Blue Shark. Pizan just smiled.
"Is that so?"
Pizan tapped his own neck at the wound spot. The Blue Shark Head sneered.
"Heh heh, my carotid's deeper. This is just a scratch!"
As it coiled for a charge, it felt its body tilt. Panic hit.
"Huh?"
Its left side felt warm and wet. Clothes soaked from swimming should be cold, but now warm. Glancing down, it saw them soaked red. Shock.
"Flesh-Tearing Shark is tricky to use and telegraphs the setup, but the effect's surefire. Once it lands, it drags blood from nearby vessels—major bleeding."
Forcing massive hemorrhage, it was devastating on the neck, causing rapid blood loss.
"If it'd hit the carotid, you'd be dead before opening that maw. Guess it's still shallow enough for some leeway?"
Watching blood pour like a spring, the Blue Shark Head freaked, dropping its mango spear to clutch the wound. But red kept seeping through its fingers. Pressing hard or stuffing in a filthy scarf did nothing.
"Effect won't last forever. Hold out gripping your neck like that, and it'll stop—if you survive till then."
"W-Wait, I surrender! I surrender!"
As Pizan closed in, it tossed the rapier, yelling surrender. Pizan ignored it, swinging his cutlass.
Its head flew with the hand staunching the wound. Pizan chuckled.
"Pirates don't get surrender. All pirates die."
Snapping the blade to flick the head upward by the beak like a flag, Pizan raised it high.
"Got the enemy commander!"
"Woooah!"
Pizan's mercenaries, pushed back by Naru-blessed grotesque super-strong pirates, cheered as morale soared. Pirates' plummeted to the sea floor.
"Eek! Run!"
"What're you waiting for? Slackers get barnacles in their crotches from now on!"
With Pizan's roar, mercenaries charged. Pirate grunts without superhumans were fish without spines—mercs swarmed greedily for extra pay.
-----
"Don't stop shooting! Even if your fingers break, draw that bow!"
Soldiers shot diligently, but it wasn't enough against the pirates. Shell-armored ones swam in with shields, then sprinted ashore.
"Damn!"
The guard squad leader at Observation Post 5 drew his sword at the pincer the size of a head-lopping cleaver. No way they could win, but yielding meant archers behind died, handing foes a beachhead. He steeled for death.
"Our job's buying time. No pussies who can't, right?"
Gripping shield and spear, the usual solid feel was gone. Why did the sturdy shaft look frail today? The tough shield, fragile?
Eyeing soldiers blocking the beach stairs, the Crab Head emerging from surf scoffed.
"Hmph! Think you weaklings can stop me?"
Its crustacean body screamed toughness; pincer dwarfed their shields, pure power. Hopeless matchup, yet the squad leader calmly replied.
"I'm weak, but that ain't reason to run."
"Trembling legs make it real heroic."
His legs did shake under the shield, but he shrugged it off.
"Scared? Sure. But fear ain't reason to lack courage."
"All talk! One hit and you're gone!"
"Come on, pirate. I'll take at least one."
Enraged by the puny guard's backtalk, Crab Head jabbed a pincer at the leader.
"You, come out. Won't attack till you're dead."
As if daring him, the leader stepped forward.
"Captain!"
Squadmates grabbed, but his resolved eyes pushed on.
"We buy time. Me going out buys till I drop, at least."
Shield and spear shaking toward Crab Head, it sneered.
"Think you'll survive one hit?"
"Who knows? But your first? Probably."
Fuming at the lip to the end, Crab Head swung its pincer. Shell met shield—shield shattered, arm and ribs cracked ominously. Like a baseball off a bat, the leader flew to the stair base.
"Captain!"
"Don't open up!"
Shouting at squadmates shielding the fallen leader, he yelled.
"We're weak. But duty weighs heavy. For it, I'll do anything."
Right arm mangled, shield dangling by straps, he tossed it, used spear as cane, and hobbled back.
"Told ya. Took the first one."
Ribs puncturing lung? Breathing hurt. Forced grin, taunting Crab Head.
Death inevitable? Drag it out, buy time for reinforcements. His will burned amid the pathos.
"Keh heh heh, one down. Twice?"
"Fuck, you think? Crab brain matches your dumb skull perfect."
"Done yapping? Die."
Rage boiling, pincer rose slow like an executioner's axe. Leader thrust spear—but injured, unbalanced, piercing giant crustacean shell? Impossible. Spear bounced off.
"Die."
Pincer swung down—BOOM!
Heavy thud on sand, spray flying. Squad screamed.
"Captain!"
No reply to desperate cries. Instead, Crab Head's voice.
"Who the hell're you?!"
Pincer hit sand, not leader—Heukgu had scooped him away.
"Nautilus Rehabilitation Squad, 1st Platoon Leader Heukgu."
"Ah, lived."
Blinking in disbelief, leader got a mashed herb pill from Heukgu.
"Dunno why solo-fighting, but looked dicey. Saved ya. This stops internal bleeding, kills pain—take it quick."
"Was stalling with taunts."
Grinning bloodily, grateful, Heukgu eyed him with respect. Civilian-level facing quasi-knight pirate, buying time with mockery? Crazy, but admirable.
Old Black Dog days, he'd call it stupid suicide. Post-Suhyun mental training, he respected duty over self.
"You look a bit strong."
Despising foes like old self—selfish pleasure over thought.
"Think you're hot shit?"
"Damn right! This shell, smashing shields one-shot! Awesome body, huh?"
Heukgu hadn't got Suhyun's teaching obsession at first. Punish? Just slave-drive. No need to teach.
But learning showed why: Reflection needs knowledge. Courage to face faults, improve for better self/values. Not ego-fueled swings.
Thus grasped "Rehabilitation Squad":
"Gazing back at a flawed past, we stride toward a brighter future. My sins never vanish, so with atonement's heart, no trial or hardship will make us falter. Thus, we live anew."
"What bullshit?"
"Don't worry. I'll carve it letter-perfect into that thick crab skull."
Ignored again, Crab Head swung furious.
"Die!"
Giant pincer arced—Heukgu didn't budge, hand out. Punched before swing landed.
Crab Head mocked, but sensed wrong.
"Grk—"
No shell dent, but innards churned.
"Gurgle."
Six Harmonies Fist - Penetrating Energy
Trusting shell against internal heavy hand art, it foamed crab-spit, collapsing. Heukgu yelled to squad.
"What're you waiting for? Process the recruits!"
"Yes sir!"
Squad charged 'volunteer enlistees,' aiding their self-reform. One hell of a spirited scene.