Yeonmu Dang (4)
Dang Beom was stuck, unable to advance or retreat.
Refuse the spar? Sure, he could do that.
But he'd applied for a match against a kid who was at least five years younger than him, someone who'd only just started learning martial arts. He knew full well how ridiculous that sounded.
Dang Beom had racked his brain for excuses to persuade her, but mockery? That was something he hadn't seen coming. Or was it mockery?
He'd swallowed his pride to request the spar, only for her to turn it down over something as lame as wanting a nap.
If that wasn't an insult or a taunt, what was?
Yet right in front of him stood a mere ten-year-old child, the same immature brat who'd stubbornly refused to learn martial arts until recently and even got chased out to a side annex.
It might not be mockery—she could be serious.
But if it was mockery, what could Dang Beom do about it? She was direct lineage nobility.
He couldn't snap at her for the humiliation or openly show his discomfort.
So he'd grit his teeth, only to catch himself. He'd open his mouth politely, then clamp it shut in anger. His face would crumple, only to smooth out again. He'd calm himself, only for the damn kid to...
His ego wavered like he'd cultivated some demonic art—truly unable to advance or retreat.
"Well, I'll be going then..."
Dang Hoiyeong forced down her upturned lips, which threatened to curl into a giggle, and waved exaggeratedly with both hands as she turned away.
Dang Beom could only watch.
That was when his savior arrived.
"Ahem. Young miss."
Elder Dang Munhyeon cleared his throat and spoke up.
"In my opinion, accepting the spar wouldn't be a bad idea."
"Class is over."
"Then shall we spar tomorrow?"
"Why would I?"
"...What if I make it tomorrow's lesson?"
Dang Hoiyeong nodded solemnly, as if in deep resignation.
"Well, if that's the case, I guess I have no choice."
"As expected! I knew you'd think it's right to fully gauge your current level through a spar. Dang Beom's talent is decent for his age, so it wouldn't be a bad—"
"Guess I'll have to tell Nanny then."
"..."
"You're pitting me, who's barely started learning martial arts, against a kid five years older. That's straight-up abuse by any common sense."
"Young miss, you're beyond common sense...!"
"Hey now. If you want something, make an offer."
Dang Beom couldn't quite wrap his head around the situation.
Was the great Elder Dang Munhyeon of the Sacheon Tang Clan seriously kowtowing to a ten-year-old?
No matter that she was direct lineage, to someone with zero foundation?
And she was taking it as her due?
Regardless of Dang Beom's shock, their conversation continued.
"Very well! Then I'll cancel tomorrow's lesson."
"Hmm... I'll shorten two hours of class over the next half-month to one hour each. That's my limit!"
"Eh, that works."
"But! You spar right now."
"Tch. Fine, whatever."
Dang Hoiyeong nodded in satisfaction and turned to Dang Beom.
"You're lucky. I was gonna take it easy, but with the pavilion lord saying that, how can I refuse?"
"...Thank you."
"To the sparring platform. Somewhere without people."
Dang Beom shot back at Dang Hoiyeong's thoroughly annoyed attitude.
"Afraid of being embarrassed?"
"Can't even take consideration when it's offered."
"..."
"I'm protecting your honor after you begged a kid like me for a spar, aren't I? And from what I overheard, the Third Elder sent you to test me. You okay with everyone else figuring out my martial level that easily?"
Dang Beom had no choice but to shut his mouth.
Even rotten, direct lineage is direct lineage.
He'd thought she was just a spoiled brat who threw tantrums.
She's not some immature kid just rebelling against learning martial arts, like the rumors say.
And that rising dark technique from earlier.
No way a kid who'd trained for barely half a month could pull that off.
So even the rumor about not training until recently might be a disguise.
Maybe she couldn't reveal her skills due to clan infighting... or some deeper reason.
Either way.
The rumors were proven false.
I need to report her martial realm to Grandfather.
To do that, he'd have to clash with her directly.
Of course, Dang Beom's guesses were mostly off-base. But at least he thought so.
As Dang Hoiyeong followed Dang Beom, she shot Elder Dang Munhyeon an incredulous look.
Dang Munhyeon coughed awkwardly under her gaze and began explaining via transmission.
[It couldn't be helped.]
[What couldn't?]
[Young miss, you can do transmission too?!]
[...Nanny taught me, obviously.]
Dang Hoiyeong belatedly realized she'd never actually learned transmission and tossed out a convenient excuse.
Dang Munhyeon, aware of her monstrous talent, brushed it off as no big deal.
[I knew you wanted to hide your martial level, young miss. But with the Third Elder taking interest, I can't keep dodging forever.]
Dang Hoiyeong nodded for him to continue.
[The Third Elder's obsession is relentless—he'll stop at nothing to gauge your level. Better to show some skill, let him think only he knows, and shut him up for a while. Far more rational.]
[So you saw my Flying Swallow Twelve Forms and got itchy feet, that's why you're making me spar Dang Beom?]
[...Of course not.]
[Really?]
[I won't say it's zero, but it really is necessary...]
Tch. Crazy old man.
Dang Hoiyeong let out a deep sigh.
At this point, it might be best to wrap things up quick, like Dang Munhyeon said, before any more hassle.
Of course, it was annoying and tiring.
How much skill to show? How to win without drawing too much attention?
Figuring that out was way more exhausting than she'd thought.
Just put up a token resistance and lose? But...
No can do.
She couldn't help being curious how that kid—face management failing, inferiority complex plain as day—would react to losing.
It was bound to be entertaining.
Might seem a bit cruel.
But Dang Beom was a martial artist too. He'd surely prefer her going all-out over some half-assed concession.
That's what this spar was for, right?
No? Then butt out, outsider.
She wouldn't go full throttle, unfortunately, but she planned to help him gain some real insights from this.
She liked that look in his eyes, after all.
"We're here."
They'd arrived at the sparring platform before she knew it.
It was inside Yeonmu Dang, which was deserted now that class had just ended.
A few instructors showed interest, but Dang Munhyeon shooed them away, citing direct lineage training.
Dang Hoiyeong and Dang Beom stepped onto the platform.
Dang Munhyeon explained the rules from below.
Explaining the rules, he shed his usual frivolity for the solemn air of an elder.
"This spar will proceed according to Sacheon Tang Clan law."
First, as a friendly bout, all lethal means are forbidden.
Second, per the first rule, only mild paralytic poison among paralytics is allowed, and hidden weapons limited to practice dull needles.
Third, the spar ends upon the opponent's surrender; paralysis poisoning; dull needle hit to vital spots like throat, brow, or heart; declared surrender; or combat incapacity.
Dang Beom added to the recited rules.
"Since neither Young Miss nor I have begun poison arts yet, you can ignore the paralytic part."
Dang Hoiyeong nodded.
"Ready."
Dang Beom nodded too.
"Ready."
Dang Beom lowered his stance.
It looked pretty solid.
Just from that, you could tell a lot. Not relying on raw talent alone—traces of relentless polishing through repetition.
And those eyes, burning with venomous resolve amid his inferiority, refusing to be dismissed as a kid.
The more she saw, the more she liked it.
While pondering how to win in style without revealing too much...
Dang Beom spoke gravely.
"I'll yield the first move."
"For real? No regrets?"
"Yes."
"Huh, you got some conscience after all?"
"..."
Dang Beom's face twisted at her jab.
Yield the first move, huh...
A great idea hit her. Win the spar, show minimal skill, and let Dang Beom walk away with something valuable.
Dang Munhyeon raised his hand, then dropped it.
"Spar begins."
At the start, Dang Hoiyeong charged straight at Dang Beom.
Dang Beom eyed her approach warily, flustered.
Can't win with hidden weapons, so close-quarters? Ridiculous.
That tiny body couldn't beat him in hand-to-hand.
So, some tricky hidden weapon for close range?
His head spun.
Whatever. Dang Beom was confident.
Ten years of diligent training since toddling into Danggata at five.
No matter what a fresh ten-year-old pulled, he wouldn't lose embarrassingly.
Whatever it is, I'll meet it head-on.
Dang Hoiyeong kept charging without pause.
Then, in an instant.
Her figure blurred, materializing right in front of him.
Footwork!
Caught off-guard by the advanced steps, Dang Beom backpedaled, but it was too late to widen the gap.
Right under his nose, Dang Hoiyeong kicked off the ground.
Her upper body leaned forward as her right leg traced an arc.
A textbook kick.
Hand-to-hand after all! Idiot...!
Dang Beom smirked bitterly and reached to grab her leg.
And...
"Not hitting!"
Dang Hoiyeong retracted the kick and retreated.
"...?"
"That wasn't an attack? Going again!"
She charged once more—this time a punch.
"Take this!"
Dang Beom reached out again...
"Not hitting!"
Dang Hoiyeong pulled back her fist and retreated. Dang Beom ground his teeth and demanded,
"What the hell is this?"
"You said yield first move? Haven't hit yet, so not an attack? Just warming up?"
Pure nonsense.
"Whoosh! Shoo-shoo-whoosh!"
Dang Hoiyeong made weird noises right in his face, feinting punches and kicks endlessly.
Of course, none connected.
"You mocking me right now?"
"Yup. Pretty much."
Dang Hoiyeong nodded with innocent cheer.
"So what're you gonna do? Take back your words about yielding first after begging a kid for a spar?"
"..."
"Go on, try. Like this—take this!"
Dang Hoiyeong thrust a punch again, then retracted.
"I've trained way less than you, and I'm younger. So I'll mess around till you let your guard down, then land a real hit to start."
"..."
"Pissed? Then just move from there."
Dang Beom gnashed his teeth.
But he didn't budge.
If she thought these petty tricks were enough to beat him, let her try.
He wouldn't fall for such pranks.
He'd crush them head-on.
And watch that face crumple.
One eye twitching furiously, Dang Beom forced his lips up.
"Go ahead. Let's see it."
"All pride, no sense. Take this!"
Dang Hoiyeong extended her leg again. "Not hitting!" Her face bloomed with laughter as she pulled back.