Rehabilitation Exercise (4)
The signature technique of the Hainan Sword Gate, the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords, was a sword art that inspired awe even among the proud martial artists of the Central Plains. If you asked any swordsman from the mainland what it was like, nine out of ten would answer the same way.
It attacked like the tide rushing in, and when defending, it drew the opponent in like the tide receding, constricting their options with mysterious subtlety. Its movements were as fierce and swift as crashing waves, and even the haughty warriors of the Central Plains acknowledged that the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords was a truly excellent supreme technique.
That was why Mu-gwang carried the confidence that the twenty-four forms of the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords permitted to second-generation disciples could stand against any sword style in the world. After all, even without the latter half of the forms reserved exclusively for first-generation disciples, it was still an incredibly powerful sword art.
Especially since his own sword was exceptionally sharp and precise among all the second-generation disciples. Though his realm was still lacking and his qi emission immature, he had mastered the swordplay itself to perfection.
Mu-gwang Senior Brother may be sword-crazy, but his skill is genuinely good…
Mu-gwang Junior Brother is about to show that Westerner swordsman the true terror of the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords.
The disciples of the Hainan Sword Gate, who had never once set foot beyond Hainan Island in their entire lives, didn’t even entertain the possibility that the Westerner swordsman could win. They watched with eager anticipation, wondering how he would possibly stand against the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords.
Carrying the weight of those expectations, the disciple Mu-gwang drew out the first form that served as the starting point of his offensive.
“I’ll go first! First Wave, Ten Thousand Waves!”
A sword strike that continued relentlessly whether blocked or dodged, pressuring the opponent like an oncoming tide. Any martial artist familiar with the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords would look for an opening to break its rhythm and counterattack. But if one didn’t know it, they would be unable to seize the initiative against the continuous barrage and end up taking a clean hit.
And even if they managed to block the first form by some stroke of luck, the true beauty of the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords lay in its ever-changing nature. It would instantly alter its path and continue the assault with the next form, never giving the opponent a chance to retaliate.
The moment the first form is blocked, I’ll flow straight into the third…
His first form traced a precise and rapid path as it flew toward William’s chest. In truth, it was closer to a probing move. Mu-gwang wanted to use this exchange to get at least a glimpse of what Western swordsmanship looked like.
Illusory sword? Heavy sword? Fast sword? I wonder which one…
What kind of sword art would William display in response to the Hainan Thirty-Six Swords?
Mu-gwang watched William’s sword with eyes full of anticipation.
The instant the two blades met, William’s wooden sword slid along Mu-gwang’s as smoothly as if it had been oiled, slipping inward. The wooden blade that rode along the flat of the sword struck Mu-gwang squarely on the bridge of his nose. In this position, it wouldn’t have been strange for a contest of strength to begin.
But both in the Central Plains and in the West, clashing blades and struggling with raw power was considered a foolish act only seen in theatrical plays. As skilled swordsmen, both immediately moved on to their next technique.
Mu-gwang prepared the fourth form, Calm Sea, Sudden Storm, while William…
“Hup?!”
Instinctively sensing danger, Mu-gwang jerked his head backward. Having barely avoided the attack, his vision caught sight of the hilt of the wooden sword.
A completely unexpected surprise strike.
It wasn’t a cut or a thrust. It was a pommel strike.
Had he not followed his sixth sense, that single move would have smashed straight into his forehead.
Mu-gwang swallowed hard and immediately retreated, creating distance.
“You dodged it.”
William let out a sigh mixed with admiration. It was genuine praise for Mu-gwang’s unexpectedly agile reaction.
For now… I’ll just observe.
He gripped the handle with both hands and raised it above his head. Then he pointed the blunt tip of the wooden sword directly at Mu-gwang’s face.
Ox Guard.
A stance favored by knights, one that unified offense and defense perfectly.
Having never seen such a posture before, Mu-gwang hesitated to launch an attack. He simply couldn’t predict what kind of strikes or defenses might come from William’s stance.
At first glance, the way he had pulled the hilt all the way behind his head looked like it could lead into a thrust, yet the slightly angled wrist also seemed ready to unleash a cut the moment it relaxed. Mu-gwang reviewed the previous attack while maintaining his own ready stance.
He used the sliding force along the blade to instead burrow inward.
What had seemed like defense had instantly transformed into offense. Whether it was pure improvisation or a characteristic of Western swordsmanship, he would only know by clashing blades again. The corners of Mu-gwang’s mouth curled up to his ears.
This is fun!
Western swordsmanship that was completely different from the martial arts of the Central Plains.
Mu-gwang calmed his excitement. There was nothing more dangerous than getting worked up during a spar.
William also wanted to see more of Hainan’s sword techniques, so instead of pressing the attack like he would on a battlefield, he simply stood still and maintained his stance.
“This is kind of boring.”
“I thought they’d be going at it like crazy…”
Disappointed murmurs began to spill from the watching disciples. They had been expecting the two swordsmen to dash around the training ground in a frenzy, blades constantly clashing. Yet the two had only crossed swords for the briefest instant.
William wasn’t charging in, and Mu-gwang was hesitating to take the initiative. The training ground was soon wrapped in a silence so thick it felt suffocating.
It was Mu-gwang’s exclamation that finally broke that silence.
“Using the hilt instead of the blade… If I had been even a little slower, I’d be lying on the floor of the training ground right now.”
“I thought that would’ve ended it, but your instincts are sharp.”
William shrugged in response to Mu-gwang’s admiration.
To think he had actually dodged that.
Maybe it’s because these guys don’t walk around in armor. They’re so agile.
Or was it their footwork?
The moment Mu-gwang had charged, William hadn’t missed how his feet had traced an odd, curving path as he closed in.
I need to get used to that nimble movement first.
William, for his part, was analyzing Mu-gwang’s first move and preparing for the next assault.
While the two continued sizing each other up, with only the grumbling of the spectators and the sound of their breathing filling the training ground, Mu-gwang finally spoke.
“May I ask you to take the next move?”
I attacked first, so this time it’s your turn.
At Mu-gwang’s clear request, William bent his right leg and lowered his stance. Naturally, the hilt that had been held high came down to his waist, while the tip of the sword angled upward.
He’s only using stances in succession… Does he not have any forms?
Come to think of it, the previous movement had been far too concise to even call it a proper stance. That was the moment Mu-gwang felt doubt.
William charged toward him like an enraged rhinoceros.
There was none of the flashy splendor or complexity of Central Plains footwork, only simple and straightforward movement. Yet the speed of his approach was unimaginable given his massive frame.
Instead of dodging the charge, Mu-gwang pulled his upper body back and raised his sword, intending to break the flow of the attack. He would deflect the strike with the flat of his blade and return the previous pommel strike with a spinning cut of his own.
The two swords, each carrying completely different intentions, collided in midair.
And then Mu-gwang was horrified as William released his two-handed grip, holding the sword with only one hand while extending his left arm.
He’s letting go of the sword?!
Releasing a hand while blades were locked in a two-handed grip was an incredibly dangerous move.
But William did it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His left hand left the hilt, wrapped around Mu-gwang’s arm from the outside like a hook, and spun his body.
“Aaaah!”
William naturally ended up in a position where he had Mu-gwang’s right arm twisted from behind. He watched as Mu-gwang’s wooden sword flew away and released his hold.
“Hey, you okay?”
What the hell just happened?
Mu-gwang stared at his wooden sword lying far away with a bewildered expression. The moment their blades met, that large, long arm had wrapped around him, and then his arm had been—
Did I twist it too hard? I hope I didn’t break anything.
It had been a fair spar, so no one would accuse him of foul play now, but injuring someone still left a bad aftertaste. William approached the kneeling Mu-gwang, who hadn’t moved, and reached out to place a hand on his shoulder before stopping. He had remembered that it was the right arm he had just twisted.
“Hey—”
“I’m fine. I was simply surprised by Young Hero William’s technique.”
Mu-gwang lifted his head and looked up at William. In his eyes burned the fierce desire to fight once more.
These sword maniacs are all the same.
William extended a hand to Mu-gwang. The latter stared for a moment at that rough, enormous hand before grasping it and rising to his feet.
“I lost.”
“It was a good spar.”
In reality, their blades had only met twice, but it had been a match rich with things to learn. Neither of them had any complaints.
“Young Hero William. If you have the time…”
“If you want.”
Rehabilitation exercise sandbag… no, training dummy secured.
“Heh heh…”
Mu-gwang’s master, who had watched the exchange of blows up close, stroked his beard with a bittersweet smile.
That rascal won’t be pestering the other disciples for spars anymore.
How many scoldings had he received from the sect leader because of his sword-obsessed disciple?
That life was finally over. He gazed at the Westerner swordsman who was speaking with Mu-gwang with eyes full of goodwill.