The Warrior Speaks with His Sword (1)
I drew in a breath.
Then let it out.
Inhale. Exhale. I repeated the cycle, trying to settle my mind. It wasn’t as heavy as meditation, but it wasn’t light either—each breath circulated the aura within my body.
I kept my mouth shut and stared straight ahead.
In the center of the open lobby, Hye-ryeong faced me with an unusually serious expression, her sword pointed directly at me. I raised my own blade in response.
Ox Guard.
Ten paces.
To an ordinary person, it might seem like a safe distance. But for martial artists, ten paces was close enough for either side to close the gap in an instant. Especially for someone from the Murim who used footwork techniques—this distance was practically the same as standing right next to each other.
If I blinked once…
She would already be at my throat.
Sparks flew as our blades clashed. The moment our swords met edge-to-edge, I stepped in immediately, driving the forte of my blade against hers to prevent her from pulling away.
The motion happened in the blink of an eye.
The result followed just a fraction slower.
Her sword vibrated from the impact against the forte. I used that tremor as my signal, twisting my blade half a turn and pressing the edge against her neck.
If this had been our first bout, she would have naturally lost to this move. But Hye-ryeong had already sparred with me countless times. The instant I moved to attack, she used the Hainan Sect’s footwork—Yusu Bo—slipping away like flowing water, moving just beyond the reach of my blade.
“Your movements have become much smoother than before.”
“Hehe…”
Did being praised make her that happy? Hye-ryeong beamed with a wide, silly grin. I took three steps forward and lightly thrust my sword at her. The tip aimed straight for her heart.
Her expression changed instantly. She bent her upper body low, spun once to the left, and drew a diagonal line upward from below. Her target was my chest.
I immediately rotated my sword ninety degrees to the left, smoothly deflecting her strike. Once again, her blade caught against the forte and could advance no further, creating a brief deadlock.
Since her attack had been neutralized, I expected her to retreat a step.
“Oh?”
“Hehe.”
Instead of pulling back, she advanced.
She refused to lose the initiative.
No matter how strong a martial artist might be, once they lost the lead, they could only display half their true ability. Hye-ryeong’s choice wasn’t bad at all.
Taking one step forward was far better than retreating halfway.
‘If you must die, then live. If you must live, then die.’ That saying was the truth of real combat.
Both attack and defense only held meaning when you held them firmly in your own hands. Even martial arts specialized in countering an opponent’s strikes could only display their full power once you seized the initiative.
“Mister, you’re so mean. You won’t even let me land a single hit.”
“If I let you hit me, I’d die, you know?”
I lowered the sword I had pressed against her neck. As the blade moved away, Hye-ryeong let out a long sigh and sat down on the floor, catching her breath.
“Mister, your swordsmanship is really strange. It feels like an attack one moment, then suddenly shifts into defense, and when it looks like defense, it turns back into an attack… What exactly happened just now?”
“Didn’t I tell you that the closer you get to the tip of the blade, the weaker the force becomes?”
“You did! Yesterday!”
“And conversely, the closer to the base…”
“The stronger the force!”
“Exactly. So if you have to receive a strike, you must catch it closer to the forte. Just like before—you saw it, right? I blocked your swing near the base, pinned it against my forte to lock it in place, then twisted my sword and brought it to your neck.”
“It feels so tricky that there aren’t any set forms…”
“In exchange, I can’t pull off those flashy attacks that Murim warriors love so much.”
Strictly speaking, Western arts weren’t entirely without forms. It was just that those forms were practically synonymous with stances. There was certainly room to view the sequence of movements flowing from one stance to another as a kind of form.
“Hmm… Still, in real combat, flashiness doesn’t really help, does it?”
“Well…”
If it was as eye-catching as the Volcanic Sect’s sword style, that flashiness itself could become a weapon. After all, brilliance had a way of captivating the eyes.
I recalled the Pythagorean swordsmanship I had seen on the battlefield.
It wasn’t flashy like a dancer on stage, but the way isosceles triangles and mathematical formulas appeared in the air was dazzling in an entirely different sense. It was almost maddening to watch. The kind of insanity that made people sick of it.
Well, it was a crazy sword art that raised one’s realm through studying mathematics, so it made sense.
“Isn’t the sword of the Hainan Sword Gate originally a style with no connection to flashiness? The sword energy flows in waves and launches unexpected attacks, and you can suddenly switch to a left-hand grip… It’s certainly a difficult style, but once you see a truly flashy sword, your opinion might change.”
I had never faced anyone who had reached the pinnacle of the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords, so I couldn’t say for sure. I had seen Elder Baek wield his blade, but all I remembered was how his sword energy spread out like sea fog and rippled like waves.
“Now that you’re talking about the Plum Blossom Sword Art, I want to see it…”
“The martial tournament is coming up soon. You’ll get to see it then.”
“…Do you think I’ll do well?”
“Are you worried?”
“Yeees…”
Hye-ryeong’s shoulders slumped as her voice trailed off. Seeing such a normally energetic girl drenched in sweat and looking so drained stirred a deep protective instinct inside me.
I crouched down in front of her and gently stroked her head as encouragement. I vaguely remembered hearing that most women disliked having their hair touched, but whenever I patted Hye-ryeong’s head, her face would soften with happiness.
Maybe she was less of a penguin and more of a puppy.
Though with a violently curvaceous body that made calling her a puppy rather inappropriate.
“Mister, I’m going to go wash up.”
“Alright. Make sure you wash properly.”
Hye-ryeong stood up and stretched. Her chest naturally bounced with the motion, drawing my eyes. Because her training uniform was soaked with sweat and clinging to her skin, the movement was even more pronounced. It was impossible not to look.
“Hehe…”
“Go wash up quickly.”
“Want to join me?”
“…Just go already.”
“Tsk.”
What was that ‘tsk’ for? I watched Hye-ryeong walk toward the bathhouse and let out a long sigh.
Every single day was a test of my patience.
Wasn’t this supposed to be a Confucian culture? Why was she so aggressively forward?
Sighing again, I sheathed my sword and drank from the water I had set aside earlier.
“…The water here tastes awful.”
No wonder tea and alcohol developed so much in China. They had to make something because plain water tasted this bad.
“…While Hye-ryeong is washing up, maybe I’ll do a bit of meditation.”
I headed toward the training hall.
“Jegal hyung, have you heard the news?”
“What news?”
“The rumor that a Seokmok-in will be participating in this martial tournament.”
“A Seokmok-in?”
Everyone had been sipping their drinks and chatting casually when Cheongryong Sword Namgung Hwi set down his cup and spoke. All eyes turned to him.
Seokmok-in.
A word rarely—if ever—uttered in the Central Plains.
That was precisely why curiosity sparked in everyone’s eyes.
“Young Master Namgung, is that true?”
“It is.”
A drinking party always needed an interesting topic. With all the attention focused on him, Namgung Hwi smiled with satisfaction and shared the information he had picked up.
“You all know that the warriors from the Hainan Sword Gate have arrived at the Wuxia Alliance Headquarters, right? A Seokmok-in came with them. I haven’t seen him myself, but they say he’s a giant nearly seven feet tall with a body packed full of muscle.”
“Is he a martial artist?”
“Would anyone traveling with the Hainan Sword Gate be anything but a martial artist?”
“He probably doesn’t belong to the Hainan Sword Gate… I wonder which faction he’s from. Hmm.”
“It has to be the Pho Dal Lap Palace, doesn’t it? Who else from the Western Regions would come to the Central Plains…?”
“Young Master Moyong Jin, the Western Regions are wider than you think.”
At Namgung Hwi’s words, Moyong Jin tilted his head in confusion.
“Is that so?”
“According to my uncle, there are countless countries in the Western Regions.”
“If it’s the words of the Elegant Sword Namgung Cheol, then it must be true.”
“There is no one who knows the Western Regions as well as he does.”
Everyone at the table nodded in agreement.
Elegant Sword Namgung Cheol.
He was a man who loved to travel so much that he had journeyed all the way to the edge of the Western Regions in his youth. His words carried weight. At least, that was the perception among the young martial artists gathered here.
“So, Young Hero Namgung. Is there any more information?”
“I believe that Seokmok-in goes by the title ‘Blue-Eyed Lion.’”
“Blue-Eyed Lion?”
“Ah, that’s the Seokmok-in warrior whose name has been circulating lately. You’re saying he’s traveling with the Hainan Sword Gate?”
“That’s right.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know that either. Very few people have actually made contact with him. However, from what I’ve heard, he appeared quite close with the warriors of the Hainan Sword Gate. It seems their relationship is quite deep.”
“Hmm…”
“A Seokmok-in with his own title! I look forward to meeting him at the tournament!”
Meng Ho-do Paeng Jeok-san, whose massive frame rivaled even the largest martial artists, laughed heartily and drank straight from the bottle. Seeing his bold demeanor, Namgung Hwi chuckled and said,
“A meeting between two giants. This should be very entertaining.”
“Haha! Without a doubt, I will defeat that Seokmok-in with my Five Tiger Gate-Cutting Saber!”
“That sounds fun.”
Jegal Hyeon-sang toyed with his teacup as he watched the three men making a ruckus.
‘Young Master Wi, I didn’t expect we would meet again so soon.’
White-Robed Scholar Jegal Hyeon-sang.
He smiled faintly at the unexpected reunion.