Few Rivals
Deep into the night. Atop the hotel bed.
Hands pressed together, seated in formal posture, Leon and Baekyeon faced each other.
Baekyeon gently sent her thoughts into his mind.
"Young Master, what you absorbed from the Hwasinjo is the spiritual power of the Upper Heavens."
"The spiritual power of the Upper Heavens?"
"It's also called Cheonryeong for short. This is a power that beings ascending beyond the Manifest Realm toward the Upper Realm must possess and cultivate."
"Hmm."
Of course, this Cheonryeong carried an entirely different meaning from the one used in the Heavenly Spirit Steps.
"There's something called spiritual grade — the rank of a soul. As a simple example, do a mayfly's soul and a human's soul share the same grade?"
"A human's spiritual grade would be far higher."
"Exactly. I understand the people of this continent also worship gods. Just like that example, the spiritual grade of those gods would differ from ordinary people's as vastly as a mayfly differs from a human."
"Confirmed."
"As spiritual grade rises… there's a kind of 'ceiling' that blocks you at a certain point. Cheonryeong is what's needed to break through that ceiling — and it's also what accumulates after you've surpassed it."
"So in short, it's power that accumulates in the souls of higher-dimensional beings."
"Exactly! Cheonryeong can be innate, or it can arise later in life. But the former is overwhelmingly more common, and the latter is extremely rare. I'm the former. I was born with Cheonryeong because I inherited the blood of a divine beast."
"And I'm the latter?"
Baekyeon nodded.
"Young Master absorbed Cheonryeong from the Hwasinjo's flower bed. That is not something that normally happens. If the shamans of the southern continent heard this, they would dismiss it as pure nonsense. That's how remarkable it is. Your spiritual grade is so extraordinarily high that you took in the Hwasinjo's Cheonryeong intact. Anyone ordinary would have had their soul torn to shreds, unable to withstand it."
"…!"
A chill ran down Leon's spine.
I had no idea about any of that. So my soul nearly got shredded to pieces?
The thought that accepting great power could go wrong had never even crossed his mind. In the original story, Billy had absorbed this Cheonryeong without any trouble, hadn't he?
When Leon asked her about it, Baekyeon shook her head.
"There was never any chance of Young Master being harmed by an insufficient spiritual grade. If there had been, I would have warned you in advance. At the time, no future existed in which Young Master would suffer great harm in the near term."
She explained that when she had faced Leon up close in the underground prison, she had used her special eyes to examine him thoroughly.
Leon was relieved.
"I see."
"Yes."
"Let's move on."
"I also know well how to handle this Cheonryeong. In fact, there isn't a shaman as well-versed in this as I am… right? …Probably not."
Baekyeon mumbled, her confidence faltering. But that was only natural. There was virtually no one with a bloodline and upbringing anything like hers.
She put on a solemn expression and continued.
"Young Master. Have you ever heard of Spiritual Arts?"
"Shall we begin?"
"…"
Cheren began the small nod of affirmation.
Her neck muscles contracted, chin tucking inward…
And just as it was about to rise again—
Thud—
Leon's form vanished.
—…!
Everyone watching from a distance in the hall went wide-eyed.
Esabel, Celia, Carotin — all of them top-tier fighters at Elprime, each a force in their own right. Every single one of them lost track of Leon's movement. Even watching from a spectator's perspective with full concentration.
Their eyelids, beginning to climb in surprise — before they could even fully widen—
—CLANG!
An explosive crack of impact.
Leon, who had crossed seventeen meters in an instant, locked blades with Cheren.
Leon's sword held vertical. Cheren's laid horizontal, barring the space directly before her forehead.
Crrrk—
The locked blades strained against each other. Muscles pulled taut on both sides. Leon pressed down from above; Cheren pushed up from below.
A full head taller, Leon naturally looked down at her. Their gazes locked across the steel between them.
"…!"
Cheren's eyes were wide open. Those perpetually impassive black eyes now surged with emotion, laying bare the turmoil within.
The corner of Leon's mouth slowly split into a grin. His eyes gleamed as if he were having the time of his life, a wild laugh rising from him.
He poured more force into the pressing blade. His forearms — sleeves rolled up tight, scarred in places — swelled, veins standing out in sharp relief.
CRRRRK—!
And then, astonishingly, Cheren's sword began to give way. The blade tip angled downward, drawing closer as if to pierce its owner's forehead.
Shockwaves rippled outward like an earthquake. The air in the hall trembled.
Crack-crack-crack—!
Centered on where Cheren stood, spiderweb fractures spread across the floor. Even the training hall tiles of the Imperial Guard Hall could not withstand the pressure — cracking and splitting apart.
"Kh…"
As if testing his own limits, Leon poured in power, trembling. Grind. His teeth clenched. Mana drawn up from his core spun through his entire body, releasing waves of energy.
As if he would not tolerate any deflection or evasion, he gave Cheren not an inch of breathing room.
Crack, crunch—!
The tiles finally shattered completely. Reduced to powder, the floor sank into a crater. Cheren's relative height against Leon dropped even further.
Her blade approached her forehead with agonizing slowness but unwavering certainty. The situation clearly favored Leon.
But the moment the sharp edge was about to brush a single strand of her sky-blue hair—
Halt!
As if that were the trigger, Cheren's repulsive force matched Leon's exactly.
Crrrr…
Shockwaves and vibrations still leaked out, but the two blades alone stopped completely. Like the eye of a storm — everything around them heaved while they alone remained still.
In that state, Cheren opened her mouth.
"Leon."
"Yes."
"I'm simply amazed. You always make my heart race."
The same expressionless face, the same blunt tone as always. Yet the sincerity she sent was unmistakable. Even the heartbeat thudding all the way to his ears could not be a lie.
"Too cliché?"
"No."
Leon's smile deepened.
"Coming from you, Instructor, that's the highest praise."
Cheren's mouth corners rose visibly.
Shing!
As if choreographed, they simultaneously withdrew their swords and stepped back.
That was their first exchange.
— Hooo…
Celia, Esabel, Liana, and Carotin finally released the breath they'd been holding.
Crossing ten exchanges came naturally. It was inevitable.
Both Cheren and Leon had known from the moment they stepped into the training hall. The wall they'd previously set had already been surpassed long ago. It was a standard that no longer held any meaning.
Instead, they purely exchanged swords.
Blades intertwined without pause. The swordsmen moved like streaks of light. Only afterimages and sword shadows faintly drifted through the air.
Though time outside may have stopped, they shared the same moment. They traversed the space within instants at identical speed. Gazes crossed; breaths intertwined.
Only after reaching his current realm could Leon finally…
…hold even a modest conversation with Cheren through the sword. He understood her more. Empathized more.
The sword she held carried her life within it. Her past, her experience, her thoughts, her emotions — all of it bloomed from the blade she extended.
It was the same for Leon.
The enlightenment he had achieved. That vague time of anguish that could never be described in words — Cheren received it together with his sword. She may not have understood it, but she could feel it. She could empathize.
"…"
"…"
The scattering sword shadows became a medium connecting their hearts.
Not contending with swords, but sharing them. Not fighting, but communing.
Conversing more precisely, richly, and thoroughly than words ever could.
This was, in essence, heart-speech.
Cheren quietly delivered into Leon's mind:
"Excellent."
The next instant, the light in her eyes shifted.
"Watch closely."
Cheren's sword cut through space with absolute honesty.
—Clang!
"…!"
Leon's sword dropped downward. At the same time, Cheren's tip pointed straight at his heart.
—…
A silence followed.
Gazing quietly at the blade tip aimed at his chest, Leon parted his lips.
"Instructor. Is that the 'next'?"
Cheren withdrew her sword and answered.
"It is."
Leon nodded calmly.
"There's still a long way to go."
Truly, there was no end. Enlighten one thing, and ten ignorances sprang forth. Climb one peak, and a higher peak came into view.
"That's true enough."
Cheren looked straight into his eyes and said,
"But you've also walked more than enough of the path already. Leon, as I see it, you right now—"
"Yes."
"—across the entire continent, below the Master rank, have few rivals."
Cheren declared it so.