Speed Versus Speed
Boom, boom, boom, boom.
The drums announcing the start of the main tournament began to thunder, setting the air itself trembling. Dozens of drums pounded like a heartbeat, growing faster and faster, whipping the atmosphere into a fever pitch.
“We shall now begin the opening of the Round of Sixteen of the Dark Fighting Tournament!”
The announcer’s booming voice rolled out beyond the arena platform.
“Facing him in this match is the man who, in the fifth preliminary, instantly crushed the formidable monk Gu Bu-seung-ya-cha—who had reached the semifinals last tournament—the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon, Lee Eeo-jin!”
Waaaaah!!
The crowd erupted in cheers. Amid that uproar, we continued facing each other, words still passing between us.
“Speed versus speed? With swords, you mean?”
I smirked at his words.
“Yeah.”
“No reason not to.”
I flicked my wrist. Lee Eeo-jin smiled along with me.
“Bare-handed again this time? Makes no difference to me, but you’ll clearly be at a disadvantage.”
“I know. If this were a real fight I’d just go at it, but…”
Lee Eeo-jin’s brow twitched.
“That tone just now could easily sound extremely arrogant, depending on how one hears it.”
“Why’s that?”
“Because it sounds as if you’ve personally experienced countless real battles. You look like a green junior of the martial world, even younger than me. You’re overestimating your own skill.”
“I felt that way because it’s true.”
I rummaged at my waist.
“No matter how much they claim ‘no rules, just like a real fight,’ the fact that we’re fighting on a limited arena platform means it definitely isn’t the same as real combat. I felt that clearly through five preliminaries.”
I nodded.
“So starting from the main rounds—well, luckily the organizers lent me something.”
Shing!
From my waist I drew a sword whose blade was only two spans long.
“This time, I think I’ll try it with a sword.”
What was most familiar to me was clearly hand-to-hand combat. But what could never be overlooked was the absolute disadvantage in reach bare hands suffered against weapons. That was where real combat and sparring diverged. In real combat there were any number of ways to close that gap—you could change the battlefield, use objects. But in a sparring match every possibility was constrained under the names of fairness and equality, leaving no way to bridge the distance. So I chose a blade of middling length, not too long, with a two-span edge that would let me move as close as possible to unarmed techniques.
My drawing of the sword seemed unexpected; Lee Eeo-jin furrowed his brow.
“…I thought hand-to-hand was your main. You can use a sword too?”
“Believe it or not, my essence is the sword.”
A beat later I added,
“Though honestly, talking about ‘essence’ for someone like me is pretty funny.”
Lee Eeo-jin curled the corners of his mouth in a matching smile.
“I’ll ask again. You’re not trying to deceive me right now, are you?”
“Hardly. I know you’re skilled. You simply proposed we test pure speed fairly with blades, so I’m answering that.”
Boom, boom, boom, boom!!
With the drums the female announcer cried out,
“Next! The introduction everyone’s been waiting for—the hot topic of the main rounds! Personally, I’ve been looking forward to introducing this contestant!”
She pointed at me.
“The eye of the storm in this tournament! From the Blood Death Sect! The Butcher of Yoryeong, Biryu!”
…
I stared at the female announcer without a word.
The Butcher of Yoryeong? Even a back-alley thug’s moniker would be better than that…
Mumyeong offered a brief comment. When my eyes met the announcer’s she broke into a cold sweat and tried to explain.
“Ha… haha, I didn’t make up that moniker. Don’t glare at me like that.”
…
“Hiiik. Everyone calls you that. Stop staring daggers. Your origin was listed as the Yoryeong region, so it’s a moniker with some foundation, okay?”
Once the preliminaries ended and the main tournament began in earnest, the nature of the event completely changed. The heat reached the level of mania. With only sixteen left, every spectator memorized each contestant’s name, origin, traits, even preferred weapons. Those with outstanding looks even gained fervent followers. Contestants who had lacked special monikers or renown relative to their skill began to see both spread in earnest. Every tournament produced a new star that defined it, and this time that star was me. The problem was the moniker and fame that came with being that star—
“It’s the Butcher of Yoryeong!”
“Butcher! Butcher! Butcher!”
“Rip him! Kill him! Tear him! Break him!”
“We’re expecting a fiery match!”
This is a complete mess.
Mumyeong voiced the sentiment that matched my own.
“Where did this go wrong?”
Hearing my whisper, Mumyeong analyzed.
The reason a moniker like this stuck is probably largely due to the Host’s unique combat aura.
“What did I do?!”
I flared up a little, feeling oddly guilty.
“There were guys openly using crazy cursed weapons! Remember the third round? The ones who called themselves lunatics, licking their blades with their tongues! Huh? The ones who said they weren’t excited enough so they scraped their own forearms and thighs with the edge! Huh? Plenty of those grinning bastards!”
As always, Mumyeong answered calmly.
Because the Host is composed of pure killing techniques from head to toe, even ordinary people who know nothing can feel that ferocious energy. Just as one instinctively feels pressure from a carnivore simply crouching still in the grass. Far more so than some clumsy herbivore that paints its mouth with blood, rolls its eyes, and shouts that it’s dangerous. In short, the Host is… pure… pure…
Mumyeong trailed off.
…a pure son of a bitch?
…
The spectators were spitting as they went wild for me, a fervor incomparable to any other contestant. The one peculiar difference was that it was the shirtless, barrel-armed men of the Green Forest and Black Path who sent up the hottest cheers toward me.
“Chop him! Chop him! Chop him!”
“Rip and kill!”
“A true man among men with neither blood nor tears!”
The women, by contrast, all grimaced and frowned.
“Heavens! How can his eyes be so vicious…!”
“The rumors said he trained alone in the Yoryeong mountains for twenty years—he really is like a wild beast.”
“I’d rather live alone than marry a man like that!”
I lowered my head.
“The grand, magnificent dream of entering the martial world I’ve had since childhood.”
I sighed briefly.
“A man’s dream.”
I muttered,
“…Fuck. This shitty martial world. All of you can just die.”
“You.”
Lee Eeo-jin furrowed his brow.
“Can you not see me?”
I looked at him. His face was completely rotten with anger.
“Where does a damn greenhorn brat get off ignoring me—me, your heavenly senior of the martial world, the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon—and goofing around!!!”
Fwoosh!
From his hand the soft sword shot out like an arrow.
Thud!
It pierced between my brows.
Flutter.
Three strands of my hair were severed and drifted to the floor. The lengths of those three cut strands were identical, as if drawn with a ruler.
Trickle.
A faint line of blood traced down my forehead.
“That doesn’t mean I let my guard down.”
…!
Lee Eeo-jin’s eyes flew wide with shock.
“If anyone dropped their guard, it was you. So.”
Looking at the hollow-cheeked man before me, I said,
“Should I call you Senior?”
“Th-this damn….”
The two-span mid-length sword I had extended was resting clearly against the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon Lee Eeo-jin’s Adam’s apple. In contrast, the single flash the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon Lee Eeo-jin had aimed at my forehead had missed completely. My face was reflected in his soft sword. The single drop of blood running down my forehead settled onto the blade. His soft sword trembled finely.
Gulp.
He swallowed. His Adam’s apple moved. It brushed the tip of my mid-length blade and came away, a bead of blood beginning to form.
“…Good heavens.”
The entire venue froze as if no sound could exist. A moment later it exploded into thunderous cheers.
“What just happened?!”
“I couldn’t even see the movement!”
“I thought hand-to-hand was his main—he can use a sword that well too?!”
Among the spectator seats, people in elegant clothing began rising one by one. Some hurriedly gestured to their subordinates, checking something.
Twitch.
As they stood they discovered one another.
…
They frowned and openly showed irritation.
“Damn it, damn it, that’s why I wanted to get my hooks in during the preliminaries, really! Really!!”
Among them was a particularly short, stocky man hopping up and down in frustration.
“Heh, heh-heh.”
“…You’re laughing?”
Lee Eeo-jin was laughing.
“Yeah, well, I took that one. Even I lost the motion for a moment.”
He laughed as he spoke.
“Counterattacking and putting a blade to my throat—that’s a humiliation I haven’t felt since I took it from my master as a child.”
“And yet you’re still laughing in this situation?”
“Yeah.”
Lee Eeo-jin smiled with a blade at his throat.
“You don’t actually think this means you won, do you? This is the Dark Fighting Tournament. Did I just declare defeat? Or am I currently dying with blood spraying from my neck? If some petty mercy is making you hold back, that mercy will be exactly what shortens your life—”
I let out a short sigh.
“If that’s your wish, I’ll kill you right now. It’s not like I can’t. Honestly I didn’t leave you alive for any special reason.”
I adjusted my grip on the mid-length sword.
“And even if I drive this blade in, I know you’ll have some move ready. I don’t know how you’ll dodge, but I’m certain the result won’t be you collapsing with your throat cut.”
“How do you know that?”
Lee Eeo-jin’s eyes bulged.
I had known from the start. Having walked the line of life-and-death duels countless times, I was extremely sensitive to the peculiar, indescribable scent given off by someone who had already prepared for death. The man before me, even though the slightest pressure from me would sever his throat, remained utterly calm and full of room to spare. Clearly some hidden card lay ready.
I said,
“We’re in the main rounds, and both of us seem pretty warmed up. Before we start the real sword dance, let me ask one question.”
Lee Eeo-jin looked at me with uncomprehending eyes.
“You said you were confident in speed. In this underworld, where do you rank when it comes to quick swords?”
The first expression to cross Lee Eeo-jin’s face was puzzlement; the next was a crooked sneer.
“So the junior of the martial world who pretended disinterest was actually curious about me, the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon?”
“…Well, yeah.”
Lee Eeo-jin chuckled.
“Whatever else, when it comes to quick swords in the underworld, discussing the subject without me is meaningless. Why ask that?”
I nodded.
“I have to climb higher. For that I need objectivity—how good I actually am. So before I break you, I need to know exactly what standing you really hold.”
Countless expressions flickered across Lee Eeo-jin’s face. The last of them was rage.
“…You!”
“Don’t worry, I’ll pay the price for it. The highest courtesy one martial artist can show another—”
I spoke calmly toward that Lee Eeo-jin.
“I’ll give this fight against you everything I’ve got.”
“You arrogant little dog bastard!”
Lee Eeo-jin roared.
“I’ll tear you to pieces and kill you!”
Fwaaat!
At the same instant power flooded my arm and I drove the mid-length sword at his throat with everything I had.
KRAAANG!
With a gray-white lightning strike, the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon Lee Eeo-jin’s body vanished.
Dozens of sword forms laced with brilliant thunder energy poured toward me.
“Lightning arts?”
My eyes widened.
Gulp.
With the bizarre movements of Baekryeon-pal-ya-jong I slipped past them. Motion like a shadow cast by a wavering torch, in a form that defied human common sense, I avoided and dismantled every sword form and closed in on Lee Eeo-jin.
“Th-this demonic—!”
Gritting his teeth, Lee Eeo-jin swung his sword faster and faster.
KWA-KWA-KWA-KWA!
The speed of his swings kept climbing. It overtook the sound of the air being split, then outstripped that sound, then covered it over again, growing still faster.
“Fast!”
I let out a short exclamation of admiration and raised my own speed.
Clang-clang-clang-clang!
KRAANG! KRA-KRA-KRANG! KRAANG!
The clear ring of steel echoed through the air hundreds of times. Sparks flew in every direction.
Thud! Thud-thud-thud!
Fwaat!
The sound of feet kicking off the floor and of robes brushing past one another resounded across the arena platform.
Flutter.
Fwaaaat!
The sound of martial robes whipped by the wind until they seemed about to tear tugged at the eardrums. Everyone kept silence before that fierce exchange. Unable even to swallow, they simply watched the deafening steel roar that left their ears ringing.
It lasted the space of a single tea.
KRAAAANG!
The steel roar of blade meeting blade was enormous.
KWAANG! KWAAAAANG!
The gray-white lightning wrapping the arena platform grew denser until it was like a festival of storm and thunder.
“Sh-shouldn’t we stop this?”
“At this rate that new-star guy is going to die.”
The spectators began to murmur little by little. In the midst of it, a whisper rose from the center of the arena—so soft it was almost inaudible.
…Extinction Kalpa, Extreme.
…!
A fraction of a fraction of a moment. An instant so brief it barely existed.
KWAAAAANG!!!
A single massive black thunderbolt swallowed thousands of gray-white lightning strikes and slammed into the center of the arena platform.
“I-impossible. My… my lightning, head-on—this can’t be…”
Thud.
His entire body shattered, Lee Eeo-jin toppled forward and collapsed, unconscious at the same moment.
Clang.
Before him the soft sword he had boasted of lay crumpled like a sheet of paper. In front of it I stood, smoke rising from my whole body.
“Ah, of course that wasn’t my true best. Just a best effort with some power held back.”
I spoke down toward the Soul-Snatching Immortal Demon Lee Eeo-jin twitching at my feet.