I Am an Artist
The next day, nine in the morning.
Leon made his way to the Helbridge family villa in District Two. When he stated his business to the servant at the gate, he was ushered inside without delay — word had clearly been sent ahead.
The training grounds lay in the rear garden. Sharp, cutting sounds of weapons splitting air rang out. The three brothers were already warming up, spears whirling through practiced forms.
"Brothers!"
"Oh, you're here!"
Leon cracked his neck side to side and drew his sword without ceremony.
"No need for a long speech, is there?"
The brothers grinned, clearly delighted by his bold spirit.
"Youngest goes first."
"Naturally."
The youngest of the three, Prua, stepped forward.
His footfalls were light, almost delicate. He settled into a ready stance.
Leon narrowed his eyes.
Expert upper rank… about that level.
And a fully packed Expert upper rank at that. Prua was a scion of a renowned martial house, after all.
Leon studied his posture and weapon carefully. A short spear, light overall, with a small awl-like blade fixed not only to the tip but to the butt end as well.
"Let's see what you've got, little brother."
Prua crooked his fingers in invitation.
Start light…
Leon's eyes flashed.
—CLANG!
A sharp crack of impact as spear shaft and sword blade crossed on a diagonal.
"Whoa… you're fast."
"…"
The short spear twisted, smoothly shoving Leon's blade aside. Leon could have answered in kind, but something in Prua's eyes made him take a single step back instead.
Prua looked impressed.
"Good instincts, too."
The next instant, Leon's vision filled with a dense scatter of points.
Ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting-ting—!
Dozens of thrusts, and just as many deflections. After weathering the first wave of the assault, Leon muttered to himself.
Light and unpredictable. But…
"A little slow."
The thought slipped out of his mouth by accident.
"What?"
The moment Prua's brow twitched, Leon unfolded the Heavenly Spirit Steps. His hands left blurred afterimages as they multiplied into countless strikes.
"…!"
Prua's eyes went round.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang-clang-clang!
Upward cuts, spinning slashes, thrusts, glancing parries, downward cleaves, wrapping strikes, curving blows — Leon hammered home a barrage of successive attacks at full speed.
Prua retreated with light, nimble footwork, short spear raised, batting away the blade again and again as he shouted,
"Haha, you're quick, I'll give you that, but this much isn't enough to—"
Focus.
The instant he opened Gaesun—
Jecheon Sword Style, First Form, Gaegyeong.
Choha.
Fwit—!
A thin red line scored across the back of Prua's hand.
It got even faster?!
He reeled. What he had taken for an all-out flurry had been nothing more than a feint — setup for a single, still faster strike.
I can't hold back!
The playfulness vanished from Prua's face. His grip shifted.
Gahwangseopchang — Sparrow Chase.
A dizzying mix of cuts and thrusts came for Leon, a spear art as distinctive as it was advanced.
Lots of feints. A style built to deceive the opponent and force mistakes…
Leon took care not to fall for the tricks as he received them. Even when a promising opening appeared, he refused to step into it.
First, let's break the tempo.
Jecheon Sword Style, First Form — Yeomyeong.
The surging light of dawn. Prua reacted.
Gahwangseopchang — Catching Falling Leaves.
Whirrr—!
In a flash, Prua's body and spear twisted in a dazzling contortion, a motion that punched straight through Leon's long vertical cut.
As Prua drove in close enough to touch, Leon drove a knee upward. There was no time to recover the sword.
Thud!
The spear shaft blocked the knee. Prua had both hands on the very ends of the shaft, just behind the blade.
Papapapak!
With the spear held short, he pressed in aggressively, arms alternating in rapid succession — attacks closer to bare-handed brawling than spear work. It looked for all the world like he was stabbing wildly with awls in both fists.
"Close range?"
Seeing that, Leon tossed his sword high without a second's hesitation. Two daggers appeared in his hands as if they had always been there.
Bewilderment flooded Prua's face.
"What the hell is that now?"
Kang! Kak-kang! Thud! Crunch!
Sparks flew three times; two solid impacts landed.
"Ghk…!"
Prua swallowed a groan. He had blocked the daggers — but Leon's foot and elbow had found him. Sharp pain lanced through his thigh and collarbone.
I misjudged. At close range, I'm completely outmatched.
He scrambled to open distance.
Leon's arm traced a smooth arc the very next instant — a seamless follow-up, as if he had expected the retreat all along.
Shhhhk—!
Both daggers flew, devouring the sunlight, each from a different position and angle. Cunning trajectories, and tearfully fast.
Prua had no time even to curse.
Pish!
The daggers skimmed his flesh. Cloth tore; blood sprayed.
He had managed a hair's-breadth evasion. At least they hadn't buried themselves in his body.
"…Hah."
Hot breath burst from between Prua's lips. His heart hammered; his breathing had come completely undone from the shock.
Leon was not the sort to miss an opening when an opponent's rhythm broke.
BOOM!
The ground beneath his feet exploded.
Leon leaned nearly horizontal, palm spread flat, and launched himself at Prua.
Bare-handed…?!
He had thrown away every weapon, yet he still charged headlong — and he was airborne.
This is too reckless!
Prua's eyes lit up. He timed his spear stroke to Leon's descent.
Whooooom—!
The shaft came so fast it seemed to bend, an optical illusion of pure velocity—
Bang—!
Leon's body kicked off the empty air, trailing a burst of blue vapor as he soared higher.
"!!!"
Shhhk!
Prua's spear carved nothing but empty space.
Leon thought as he flew.
With this much mana, even this works well.
The art of releasing mana through the entire body to control oneself midair — a technique he had used from time to time for years.
He passed over Prua's head and dropped behind him.
Thud!
The moment he landed, Leon snatched up the sword planted in the ground — the same one he had thrown skyward earlier.
"You — you planned this from the start…?!"
From the instant he tossed the sword, every step had been calculated. Prua had lost count of how many times he had been shocked today alone.
"He's not just skilled with a sword. He just… fights well."
"Agreed."
Rotea and Aqua, watching from the sidelines, murmured to each other. The word "warrior" suited him better than "swordsman."
"Usually someone with that many tricks is sloppy somewhere, but I don't see it."
"Sharp eye. He's already spotted the youngest's habit of lifting his left foot."
"Hah. Hard to just stand here and watch."
Aqua retied his ponytail. Competitive fire was clearly boiling; his grin showed teeth.
"I'm going next."
"What? No, by order that would be—"
While they traded a few words, the duel was climbing toward its peak.
Leon pressed Prua without pause, his stamina undiminished. Prua still could not fully adapt to Leon's speed. The advantage tilted steadily Leon's way.
"Aigoo, my pride."
Flushed with heat, Prua finally brought out his trump card.
Shhhraaak!
His feet spread wide, sweeping the stone floor of the training ground. From the short spear raised high, a chilling aura began to gather.
Oh, this one's pretty…
A broad smile tugged at Leon's mouth.
"Try taking this one too, little brother."
Prua's molars clenched tight.
Gahwangseopchang — Severing Moonlight.
Whirrrrr—!
With tremendous rotational force, the spear tip shot forward. The air along its path tore and burst apart.
To Leon, meeting it head-on, space itself seemed to warp around that spear.
Tricky.
The tip whipped without regard for direction. There was no predicting where it would arrive. His eyes, still open in Gaesun, stung as if they might burn.
In a fraction of a second, Leon decided.
I haven't fully mastered this yet — but it looks like he hasn't either, so…
I'll block with this.
His sword let out a resonant cry.
Bigwanggeomhyeong, Third Form — Gwanghwa.
The blade became a ray of light, and the ray became petals.
A flower in full bloom turned into a curtain of steel, barring the way ahead.
Ting-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring-ring—!!
Sword and spear clashed in a furious exchange.
Leon's sword-flower seemed to wither under the oncoming feast of spear strikes — then, undaunted, bloomed again.
A piercing spear against a shielding wall. A deadlock stretched taut.
Ah.
A young servant watching from a distance felt a sudden pang of regret.
This was only a spar, so nothing but bare steel was flying. They could not truly fight to the death, after all.
If this had been real combat — if mana had been drawn out and color and aura had clothed those weapons — how beautiful would it have been?
If this weren't a spar, it would've been sick as hell.
Not the kind of thought a servant was supposed to have, but there it was all the same.
Clang-clang-clang-clang-clang…!
The duel passed its climax and drove toward its end.
The entire training ground seethed with the heat they poured out; the whole estate rang with the shriek of metal. Escaping shockwaves rattled the floor tiles.
The two men emptied every scrap of their martial arts. Weapons stormed like a tempest.
Amid the scattering blades, Leon felt his mind grow hazy.
…
His head filled with ash-gray. His ears went muffled. Was this a dream, or reality?
It felt stifling, as if he were underwater, yet every sensation was razor-sharp. Unconscious and conscious bled together.
Dots appeared in every direction — points that should never have been visible.
What is this?
Leon connected them as if entranced. His sword became a brush, painting a picture.
"Kh…!"
The human in front of him twisted his face.
Oh-ho.
That looked rather nice. Spurred on, Leon kept joining the dots.
I am an artist.
Bold, unrestrained — he moved the sword as if he were a master.
Connecting this way, connecting that way.
A light poke here; three, four dots joined at once there.
He painted it gorgeous, painted it crisp, painted it rough.
His hands and feet grew lighter and lighter. The dots became lines even faster. But the dots multiplied faster still.
Enough. It's grotesque.
There were far too many; the composition was a mess. He slashed the sword this way and that, erasing them. Still too many. Irritation surged.
Then the sword in his hand spoke.
— Hey. You could wipe all of those out in one go, right?
Leon answered blankly.
Sure. Why not.
———!
…Oh. It actually works?
The human before him coughed blood and crumpled. The stick he had been playing with spun away through the air.
The dots vanished in an instant. The world was clear and clean.
A vibration that began at the tip of the blade reached all the way to his dantian.
From crown to sole, something felt blown wide open…
…and it was truly, thoroughly refreshing.