The Thief
Startle him, and a spirit pill was his.
A bargain, if ever there was one — or so it seemed. Bihyung knew perfectly well it would not be as easy as it sounded.
No question about it. The professor's specialty is close combat.
It was there in the wooden staff he carried, in the footwork that stirred now and then, in the suppleness with which his body's axis turned. Difficult to take him for a man who had devoted himself to spellcraft alone. And with skill of that order, how easy could it be to startle him?
Even so. The elixir is right in front of me.
An unexpected reward, and one Bihyung needed at once.
A chance to fill my dantian.
Just now, he was suffering a slight imbalance. By the Path of the Apex, Tuhuiryeong could bring the might of the 5th Rank to bear — and yet his own energy was far too scant to manifest power of that order.
Didn't the professor say so a moment ago? Force on par with a respectable 4th Rank.
He had meant it as praise. To Bihyung, who knew the limits of his own art, it was an insult.
If I swallow the spirit pill — at least where output is concerned...
So he went past earnestness and staked everything he had. Greed glazed his eyes, and the professor rubbed at his own forearm.
"Oof. Look at those eyes. Getting a look like that from a man is a little..."
As if anyone was enjoying this.
At the sight of Bihyung's expression curdling as if it might rot, the professor cackled.
"Kidding. I'm kidding."
Spiritual energy wavered through his grip like smoke.
"All right. Let's begin again."
Spells lanced out with the words. They drove into the floor and seeped into every corner of the room, and the flow of those energies gathered into one, taking dominion over the space.
Kh!
Dizziness struck all at once, and Bihyung swayed. His arms went dull. He could no longer tell whether his legs were even standing straight. Command of his five senses was slipping away by degrees.
So this is what he wants me to brace for.
Find a way. He turned it over and over, and one answer surfaced — crude, but an answer. At once he hauled up his spiritual energy, drew Guiokdo from within the bat, and closed his hand around it.
"Oh? And what's that? Not the spear from before."
Bihyung gave no answer. A man was entitled to a secret or two the world didn't know. Something of this order, the professor could pass over on his own.
A ghost-laden cry shivered out of Guiokdo — kiiik — and Bihyung poured spiritual energy in, unleashing a spell on the spot. He tapped the blade with a finger. Ting! A tone like a ghost's wail took the spell up and spread it through the empty air.
Pububung! Through the professor's energy, which had held the space, Guiokdo's ghost-qi settled like rime and jammed the working of the spell.
A satisfied smile gathered at the professor's mouth.
"Not bad. That was the right road. If someone means to throw your senses into confusion, you shatter the domain itself. A technique that erupts in every direction is a fine answer to exactly that."
He nodded. Bihyung was not yet satisfied.
I didn't startle him.
Then — a little further.
Ghost-fire flickered through both his eyes, and strength settled into the hand on Guiokdo's hilt.
Remember.
The technique the Dokkaebi King had shown before, akin to a clone of himself. He had driven his energy outward, governed it, and worked a transformation upon things.
Then — I can do it too. Through Mimicry, he had already taken its measure to some degree.
Not the same. A little different.
He felt the energy around him: spiritual power stretched out from his own body. The farther it drew from his flesh, the fainter his hold, but it was still attached. Feeling for it, he hauled Guiokdo back hard.
Chwak!
The ghost-qi Guiokdo had been pouring in every direction turned, all at once, to cutting qi, and roared in like a storm.
A hollow laugh slipped from the professor.
"Hah? I wasn't asking for quite this much."
Power he himself had judged fully equal to the 4th Rank, with Guiokdo's ability laid over it besides. Even he could not simply dismiss that.
"Showing me why the top of the class is the top of the class?"
If it had come to this...
"I suppose I can't teach you at a stroll, either."
The smile at his mouth cooled, if only a little.
"Let me show you something worth seeing."
With that, he gave the wooden staff a light swing. The hand that had held the butt slid, before Bihyung could follow it, toward the middle, drawing a circle on the air. The movement was so fluid it might have been a painting.
...!
Bihyung's eyes flew wide. The tip of the spinning staff turned aside every slash, and in the same breath command of the cutting qi passed from him into the professor's grip.
What is that...?
It had been his own technique, worked with his own energy. And yet the cutting qi coiling about the staff's tip, until the thing looked for all the world like a spear, was unmistakably his. So what was that?
"And what would that be?"
"This? Call it a secret art all my own."
The staff spun again, round and round. Cutting qi followed the motion and clung to it with a fluid grace, and now it had left Bihyung's hand to wag its tail for another master.
...Had he ever seen energy so ungrateful?
"Don't look at me like that. This is extraordinarily difficult. A result of this order is only to be expected."
"What principle makes it work like that?"
"Put simply, the mystery called Twin-Blossom Grafting lies at the root of it."
"Isn't that a martial art?"
Under the setting of Dokja Jeon-gi, China had already fallen. What filled the vacancy was a host of martial artists, and the Dust-Strewn Rivers and Lakes — the Sword Grove of the Fallen Peaks. What the professor spoke of now had come out of that martial world. He only snorted and lifted a finger, wagging it from side to side.
"Not a martial art. A martial principle."
A martial principle was the groundwork upon which the fixed frame of a martial art was built.
"And in that sense, this one is rather unique."
"How so?"
"Because it isn't ordinary Twin-Blossom Grafting."
Bihyung had brushed against martial arts only briefly, and only inside Dokja Jeon-gi, so the meaning escaped him. The professor's shoulders, puffed up to preen, sagged.
"...Haa. I'll explain it once, so listen carefully."
If I'd humored him a little longer, would he have explained it until I understood?
"Whoa. That's incredible, Professor."
"...Too late, you brat."
Tch.
Clicking his tongue, mouth pulled crooked, the professor nonetheless laid out his Twin-Blossom Grafting slowly, and in as much detail as he could.
"Ordinary Twin-Blossom Grafting follows the mystery of yu — softness. Ah... do you know what yu is?"
"Softness?"
"Correct."
As if they were finally speaking the same language, he went on.
"But mine adds, atop softness, the mystery of greed."
"And what's that?"
"...You find the weak point in an opponent's spell or energy, and for a single instant you dye it with your own. In short, you can forcibly plunder their technique."
Only then did Bihyung's eyes fly wide, as if he were truly astonished. The corner of the professor's mouth twitched.
"Well. It's a high art. In Korea, at least, I'm the only one who can do it. ...No. Could Tuseonnyeo manage it? Anyway!"
Head tilted, he brought the matter to a close.
"You passed the test admirably. As promised, one spirit pill."
"...Thank you."
"What's with that face? I say I'll give it to you, and you look thoroughly put out."
"Not put out. I just... need a moment to think."
Even as he said it, his gaze would not leave the wooden staff. The professor looked at him and let out another hollow laugh.
"You mean to learn this? I've never seen a thief's heart quite like yours."
"I thought it would be worth picking up."
"Forget it. At your level, it's a method you won't understand."
So he said. Bihyung thought somewhat differently.
The talent steeped in his blood was gradually taking the man into its sight.
I can't master the whole of it. He called it a high art, and he was right. It was the same as Dueok's Ghost-Horn Blade. The grade was simply too high; as he stood now, he could not hold its true form in full.
But did he truly need to hold all of it?
However vast a thing is, some part of it still shows itself.
Take in only what he needed, and graft that onto himself. Bihyung did exactly that, and smiled.
A way to covet an opponent's offense and make it his own. That, it seemed, was what they called the Realm of Solitary Supremacy. The instant he understood it, he spoke.
"Would you fire a spell at me?"
"...What?"
"I'd like to try. And while you're at it, make it a good number of them."
Ha. Honestly.
The professor shook his head as if he couldn't believe his ears, then waved a hand like a man conceding.
"Don't come crying to me if you regret it. The power's been cut, and it'll still hurt."
In a flash, countless fireballs readied themselves on the air. They shone there, each no larger than a firefly, and even diminished, the heat rolling off them was nothing ordinary. Then the flames shot forth in a swarm.
...My way.
Watching them, Bihyung slowly raised a hand.
I don't have to follow that exactly. I only have to turn it into my own way.
And he knew which of his weapons suited a moment like this rather well.
Bloodline.
The nature of a dokkaebi, risen to EX-rank — and, forged through it, a Bloodline that was his alone.
Come.
The moment his grip struck empty air, a ripple went out. A small tremor hummed — wooong — and heat-haze was already wavering in his hand. The Dokkaebi Bat. Never once used in a fight until now, the exclusive property of the dokkaebi showed itself.
"Hm?"
For the first time, something about the sight sat wrong with the professor.
What is that?
What he sensed plainly existed, and yet it did not seem quite like an object. Even so, down in the realm of instinct, he knew at a glance that the thing he was staring at was no small matter.
The instant the bat settled into Bihyung's grip, he swung it at the empty air.
Asim Jeojang.
Heat-haze stitched across the air and changed, like silk streaming loose — or perhaps more like a curtain. From behind that curtain, Bihyung received the swarm of shining spheres. Tududuk. There was no pain.
Solitary Supremacy.
The moment he laid that mystery upon the bat, the fireballs melted away and vanished before they could deal any true damage. At the same time, a message rose.
Firedew Round ×142 has been stored.
Decomposition or combination is possible.
Decompose.
The moment he chose it, the countless energies that had composed the Firedew Rounds were stored within the bat, and from there they streamed straight into him.
"...What."
Leaving the professor's dumbfounded mutter behind, Bihyung poured that barely controllable energy into Tuhuiryeong and swung Guiokdo at the wall.
Shwaaaaaek—!!
Fierce cutting qi gouged the wall and, not content to stop there, split it — a training-hall wall built so that spells of the 4th Rank, and even spells of the 5th, would only crack it and be spent. Through the broken gap, sunlight from outside wavered.
Ha... so this is it.
The moment he finally felt Tuhuiryeong's true power. A smile spread across his mouth.
There was, it seemed, someone who did not smile. The professor's cry, wet at the edges, rang through the training hall.