Duel
There was no telling how deep the debts and grudges of the martial world ran, and one must never step into them carelessly.
Any martial artist, even a child, ought to know that when meddling in another person’s affairs, caution must be doubled and redoubled.
The fool in front of her, spear raised high, seemed never to have heard such advice in his life.
Im Cheongwol let out a thin sigh and rose from her seat, sweeping her gaze over the men in black.
Their bearing was fierce, but what truly caught her eye was something else.
Not a speck of dust on their black robes, and bamboo hats that showed no sign of wear. Beside that, straight swords of identical length and shape, as though hastily commissioned from the same place all at once.
She, too, had little experience in the martial world, just like Ak Seo-ah, but even so, it was not hard to see through them.
"You’re wearing black robes, but you’ve only borrowed the look."
At Cheongwol’s words, the man who seemed to lead the black-clad group nodded without resistance.
"As you can see, we’re not here to do anything honorable."
At that, Ak Seo-ah, who had stepped back, raised her voice.
"And yet you do such a thing even knowing shame? How utterly brazen!"
It was exactly the sort of rebuke one would expect from a righteous martial artist, but the man remained utterly calm.
"Your sense of justice is admirable, miss, but what use is it if it’s nothing but words?"
His lightly mocking tone seemed to be baiting her to strike first, and Ak Seo-ah bristled, gathering her inner energy.
"Then I shall answer you with the tip of my spear! I am...!"
Cheongwol hurriedly clapped a hand over Ak Seo-ah’s mouth before she could announce her identity in full, then looked toward the innkeeper.
"Just in case, let me ask something—did you do anything to offend those people?"
The innkeeper shifted his gaze between the black-clad men and Cheongwol, then finally answered with visible hesitation.
"If I had to say I did anything wrong... it would be nothing at all."
At that, the easy smiles on the black-clad men’s faces twisted, while a faint smile spread across Cheongwol’s lips.
"That’s good enough."
Having received the answer she wanted, Cheongwol gave a slight nod toward the door.
"Let’s take this outside. I don’t think food sits well when there’s blood on the floor."
---
Once outside the inn, the two sides faced each other with the green-blue lake at their backs.
On one side stood the black-clad men, radiating a sinister aura; on the other were Cheongwol and Ak Seo-ah.
This has gotten out of hand.
The innkeeper, who had had nothing to lose either way, had sided with the two women—but now that he was actually facing off against the black-clad men, a wave of bitter regret crashed over him.
I let greed drive me to shove two young girls into danger... I must have gone completely mad. If I still can...
Before the innkeeper could say another word, Cheongwol stepped forward and spoke to the black-clad men.
"If it’s a fight to the death, then all at once. If it’s a duel, then one by one."
Her tone was so bold it even made Ak Seo-ah widen her eyes, and in Cheongwol’s face there was a strange and unmistakable satisfaction.
In truth, Cheongwol had long admired the stories of chivalrous warriors just as much as Ak Seo-ah had.
"Cheongwol miss! I, too...!"
Startled, Ak Seo-ah rushed forward as if to stand at Cheongwol’s side, but then she abruptly stopped in her tracks.
From among the black-clad group, the man who seemed to be their leader had stepped out alone and was walking forward.
"Still, as one who entered the martial world before you, allow me to offer a bit of advice."
The refined flow of the man’s inner energy, drawn up from the deepest part of his dantian, spread slowly yet unmistakably through the space between them.
"Don’t bother separating a fight to the death from a duel. If you’re a martial artist, then from the day you step into the martial world, you stand with a blade at your throat."
Hearing the man’s advice, Cheongwol’s somewhat exhilarated mood quickly cooled.
One moment’s carelessness in the martial world leads to death.
Her grandfather and So Gayul had drilled that into her so often that she had believed she kept it carved into her heart at all times.
And yet she had grown careless, only to hear those very words again from the enemy’s own mouth.
Even if Ak Seo-ah was the sort to act impulsively out of righteous zeal, she would never underestimate an opponent.
Burning with shame to the tips of her ears, Cheongwol bowed her head slightly to the man.
"This junior has shown you an embarrassing side of herself. I will not forget your valuable lesson."
"...You’re a quick study, junior."
Seemingly taken aback by Cheongwol’s reaction, a short laugh slipped onto the man’s lips.
Then, slowly drawing the sword from his waist, he said,
"If I’ve played the part of your senior, then I should yield the first strike. Come when you’re ready."
---
If she used the forms of the Byeoksa Sword Art, the mysteries of the Sunflower Manual would naturally be laid bare.
For that reason, Cheongwol did not draw her sword.
Instead, she gradually sent the energies of yin and yang through the meridians on her left and right, settling into stance.
I shouldn’t have yielded the first strike.
Feeling that unusual surge of energy, the man slowly shook his head.
They had not yet so much as crossed blades, and already Cheongwol’s energy was raging as though it meant to tear through his entire body.
The air had grown heavy, and his fingertips tingled.
Then, at the exact instant when every sensation in his body sounded the alarm, Cheongwol suddenly appeared directly in front of his nose.
He had seen it with his own eyes, yet there was not even time to evade the ambush.
BOOM!!
He raised his sword in a desperate block, but his body was driven five whole steps back from the spot where he had been standing.
Looking down at the trembling blade, still quivering from the force of the impact, the man frowned.
If it was already this much even after he had dispersed his energy, then if they kept clashing head-on, he would not last long before his blade broke.
With the instinctive realization that this could not drag on, more energy began to seep once again into his sword.
The trembling blade went still, and soon a sharpened, wind-like qi spread from it like a keen edge honed to perfection.
"One exchange is enough for me to see how extraordinary your martial arts are. But..."
The man thrust the tip of his sword straight toward Cheongwol.
"I wonder whether your study of martial principles is as deep as your skill."
With those words, a gust that had sliced through the air grazed her shoulder.
She twisted her body just in time to avoid it, and then the stormwind bursting from the sword’s tip came surging straight at her.
One form.
Two forms.
Three forms.
Under the man’s relentless assault, with no room even to catch her breath, Cheongwol seemed reduced to nothing more than evasion.
Hiss!
Even so, she failed to avoid every strike, and shallow cuts appeared in succession across her arm and waist, causing Ak Seo-ah’s face to grow increasingly tense.
Yet trapped within the man’s wind as she was, not a trace of wavering showed on Cheongwol’s face.
No matter how fierce the wind, wind was still wind; there would always be a moment when its flow broke.
She was narrowing that gap with the swift, elusive principles of her sword art, while her eyes had already pierced through the opening.
She slid one foot forward in a soft, gliding step, letting the wind pass around her before driving a fist infused with yin-yang energy into the man’s shoulder.
Thud!
"...!"
When the man allowed her one strike, the black-clad men around them tensed visibly.
And just like them, astonishment spread across the man’s face.
For an instant, the flow of my qi was broken. So this isn’t merely a martial art with overwhelming force?
He hurriedly tried to reconnect the severed current of energy, but by then the flow had already shifted from him to Cheongwol.
No!
Cheongwol’s fist swept past his sword like a passing shadow, and in an instant his flank collapsed.
The moment he tried to raise his blade to block, the next fist was already driving into his abdomen.
"Kuhh...!"
His steady breathing was torn apart, and his once-straight posture broke and lost its balance.
The more he swung his sword, the wider the gap became, and through that opening Cheongwol’s offense kept slipping in.
Only as much as the enemy allowed.
Only that much flow was being maintained.
The moment he understood that, humiliation washed over him from head to toe.
"You bastard! You dare make a fool of me!"
Light flared in the man’s eyes as his fury exploded.
The energy bursting from his sword’s tip rose like a storm, and the blade winds swirling in from all directions encircled Cheongwol.
The slash of wind was so savage that there was not even space to plant a foot, the fierce currents cutting through the air and grazing flesh.
Even the onlookers watching the duel had to squeeze their eyes shut, yet within that merciless storm of blades, only the man himself could see everything clearly.
Cheongwol, standing before him with a face of utter calm.
Unlike when she had first been ambushed, this was no longer a question of speed, slow or fast.
It was as though she had been standing there from the beginning, and Cheongwol simply faced him as a matter of course.
"What...?"
Unable to make sense of the scene, the man’s eyes filled with shock.
But only for a moment, before his eyelids slowly began to lower.
...
As the unease seeping into his chest made him drop his head, he realized his strength had already drained away from his body.
Letting out a hollow laugh, he struggled to speak one last time before his eyes closed completely.
"...To think the wind had even touched me at all... was itself a mistake..."
As the man’s body pitched forward, the blade wind that had filled the area gradually dispersed.
Once the two sides’ murderous momentum had faded, only the sound of breathing remained in front of the inn.
"A rib or two might be broken, but otherwise he should be fine. Take him away."
Cheongwol brushed the blood and dust from her martial clothes, then tossed the words to the black-clad men, who still seemed unable to process what had happened.
Then, turning slowly as if to leave, she paused and glanced back at them.
"Ah, and don’t come back. I can’t stand being interrupted while I’m eating."
Leaving behind a smile that could have belonged to some wandering hero of the jianghu, Cheongwol walked on again as if nothing at all had happened.
---