The Sword Speaks for the Warrior (8)
“The Blue-Eyed Envoy appears not to have studied lightness arts.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“A warrior of that level hasn’t learned lightness skill? Does that even make sense?”
At Jegal Hyeon-sang’s sudden remark, Namgung Hwi and Paeng Jeok-san turned to stare at him as if he’d lost his mind.
Their reaction was only natural.
To them, a martial artist who hadn’t learned lightness skill was no different from an infant crawling instead of walking.
In this era, even third-rate martial artists were expected to master at least third-rate lightness techniques. Unless one was a complete beginner, it was unthinkable for a man of similar age to the Wind-Flowing Sword Namgung Cheol to have never studied lightness skill.
“Perhaps the Western Regions have no lightness arts at all…”
“That can’t be. Even the Potala Palace is famous for its Diamond Steps, isn’t it?”
“Look at the Blue-Eyed Envoy’s footwork. There’s none of the distinctive movement pattern that comes from training in lightness skill. At the very least, he hasn’t learned any lightness technique we would recognize.”
“Hah…”
At his words, Paeng Jeok-san and Namgung Hwi both looked toward William, who was currently exchanging blows with Yang Seo-yu. Just as Jegal Hyeon-sang had said, William’s steps lacked the refined, stylized footwork of a lightness practitioner. He simply moved his feet to the positions necessary for combat.
“He’s right…”
“A man of that caliber doesn’t even know proper footwork…”
“Still, that doesn’t make him any less dangerous. A veteran like him wouldn’t be unaware of his own shortcomings, and he’s dominating the fight regardless.”
“Hah! After hearing you, Jegal, I’m even more eager to fight him myself!”
“If the Blue-Eyed Envoy comes up… that may well happen.”
The White-Robed Scholar Jegal Hyeon-sang smiled meaningfully, his face half-hidden behind his white feather fan as always.
‘Quite flashy.’
The spear slid along the flat of the sword. Yang Seo-yu gritted his teeth at the scene that had already played out dozens of times.
‘Feels just like fighting Father.’
Yang Seo-yu recalled his sparring sessions with the father who had taught him spearmanship. Back then, too, every attack had been effortlessly deflected. The current situation was no different.
The only distinction was that his opponent was not a Central Plains native, but a man of the Western Regions.
‘Central Plains spearmanship hides its true edge within its flamboyance.’
It differed in nature from the efficient, battle-hardened movements he had often seen on the battlefield. Naturally, spearmanship created to efficiently kill people in war and spearmanship refined for personal cultivation in the civilian world followed different paths.
Thus, William was able to study Central Plains martial arts once more by experiencing the Plum Blossom Spear firsthand.
‘Central Plains martial arts and Western Aura Arts are clearly different. Since I’ve grasped that difference so clearly, I ought to thank him.’
Of course, saying it aloud would sound like mockery, so he kept the thought to himself. William’s gaze softened slightly as he deflected yet another attack with his sword and stepped inward once more.
The same setup and situation as the beginning.
This time, Yang Seo-yu calmly withdrew his spear, spun it once, and aimed for William’s legs. Seeing Yang Seo-yu now trying to properly block his approach, William chuckled.
‘A good attempt. Whether it’s meaningful is another matter.’
The spear blade came slicing toward his legs in a diagonal arc. William lightly lifted his foot and stomped down on the energy-infused spear with Aura wrapped around his boot.
A thunderous crash rang out as their energies collided, sending dust flying. When the dust settled, the spear blade was embedded in the ground, and William stood atop it.
“Targeting the lower body to avoid a counterattack to the upper body wasn’t a bad choice, but you aimed too low.”
“…I’ve lost.”
Once the spear blade was pinned to the ground, Yang Seo-yu had no moves left. He could have rolled across the floor to buy time, but who would throw away their dignity in a mere sparring match?
“Well fought.”
The two clasped their hands in salute, showing mutual respect.
As their duel came to an end, the training ground erupted in cheers. The deafening roar made William frown slightly as he sheathed his sword. Yang Seo-yu also slung his spear across his back and wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve.
Then he glanced at William.
‘He barely broke a sweat. So this is the gap in our realms.’
Feeling the vast difference in their levels anew, Yang Seo-yu looked at William with genuine goodwill—the man who had deliberately drawn out the fight and forced him to reveal everything he had.
“The winner of this match is! William the Blue-Eyed Envoy!”
“William! William!”
The spectators roared in approval at the dazzling exchange of spear and sword, rather than a quick, one-sided bout.
‘Hmm.’
William raised both arms high like a Roman gladiator, acknowledging the crowd’s cheers.
‘This is embarrassing. I’m not doing that twice.’
William lowered his arms and turned, disappearing into the waiting room.
“Uncle! That was amazing!”
“Benefactor, that was a magnificent duel.”
Stop sparkling your eyes like that. It’s burdensome.
First time I’ve seen human eyes shine that brightly.
“It wasn’t that impressive. You two could do the same once you reach that level, so don’t exaggerate.”
“If Peak realm was that easy, half the martial world would already be Peak experts.”
Hye-ryeong pouted and flapped her sleeves in protest. Where on earth did she learn that habit?
Her parents?
“True enough. You’re right—Peak isn’t an easy realm at all.”
“Many people train for decades and still remain stuck at First-rate. First-rate is respectable enough, but… it doesn’t compare to Peak.”
As Mok Gyeong had said, Peak was no trivial realm. It was the stage where one could manifest Sword Qi externally, beyond merely reinforcing the body or weapon with internal energy. From the moment Sword Qi could be formed, lower-level martial artists could be cut down as easily as slicing through ice cream.
…Though in the West, everyone fights in heavy armor, so it’s not as simple as it sounds.
Knights are protected by Aura Armor, making Sword Qi difficult to inflict meaningful damage with, and those damned Mamluks only promote those at least at the Expert level. The moment they realize someone is stronger than them, they immediately gang up.
Moreover, Aura consumed energy so inefficiently that it was rarely usable in prolonged battles anyway.
“Exactly. It’s ridiculous for someone your age to be a Peak expert, Uncle! You’re not some protagonist from a martial arts novel!”
…They have martial arts novels here too?
Well, thinking about it, something like the Water Margin is pretty similar to a martial arts novel, so it makes sense they’d exist. Where else would the roots come from?
“Sometimes such people just exist.”
“This is my first time seeing one.”
…There’s already someone right next to me who could surpass me in the blink of an eye.
I glanced at Mok Gyeong before turning my gaze back to Hye-ryeong.
“Anyway, you should start preparing for your match too.”
“Hehe, you’ll cheer for me, right?”
“Of course.”
Who was her opponent again?
Ah, Cheong Mae-hyang.
Cheong Mae-hyang… I don’t have any useful information on her.
Since she wasn’t a character from the original novel, I couldn’t recall any plausible details.
Well, she’s a Taoist, so she probably uses the Plum Blossom Twenty-Four Sword Forms… No, wait, that technique can only be learned by becoming a Plum Blossom Sword Master, right? Or not?
“Uncle?”
“Ah, sorry. I was just thinking about something.”
“If you have any worries, please tell me!”
“No, it’s nothing like that, so don’t worry.”
“Okaaay…”
Why do you look so dejected? Now I feel like I have to come up with some fake problem.
I asked Hye-ryeong a suitable question—the girl who seemed more like a puppy than a person.
“Since you mentioned the White Plum Blossom, I was curious about the Mount Hua Sect’s martial arts…”
“The Mount Hua Sect’s martial arts are famous for the Plum Blossom Twenty-Four Sword Forms. It’s said that at the pinnacle, every swing of the sword fills the surroundings with the scent of plum blossoms, and the Sword Qi scatters like flower petals.”
Scattering like flower petals sounds a bit… odd.
It makes me imagine someone shouting “Scatter!” while attacking with petals.
“Young Master Mok, have you seen it before?”
Something about adding “Young Master” feels deliberate. Am I imagining it?
“No. I’ve never witnessed the ultimate Plum Blossom Sword either. However, I have heard rumors…”
After kindly answering Hye-ryeong’s question, Mok Gyeong nodded as if remembering something, then looked up at me.
“Lady Hye-ryeong. Isn’t it almost your turn?”
“Huh?”
As Hye-ryeong turned to Mok Gyeong with a “Already?” expression, cheers erupted and the referee’s voice faintly announced the end of the match.
“It hasn’t even been one quarter of an hour yet…”
“Hye-ryeong, go on.”
“I’ll definitely win and come back!”
Hye-ryeong straightened her clothes one last time, sword at her waist, and left the waiting room.
“…Let’s head to the spectator stands.”
“Yes.”
Mok Gyeong and I made our way toward the stands.