Chapter 83
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Sparring Instead of Conversation
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“Is that so.”
Baek Il-yeong nodded at her words, that she couldn't sleep and had come to the backyard for some fresh air. It made sense. The front of the quarters where they were staying connected directly to Suemori Castle's inner citadel, so she had every reason to feel uneasy there.
No matter how much one tried to sugarcoat it, the chief advisor was bound to draw resentment in the end.
If someone picks a fight with her carelessly...
He might end up filming an unplanned escape from Suemori Castle. Of course, even this relatively quiet backyard—where he'd swung his sword around—was guarded by samurai on watch, making it hardly ideal for a stroll.
Still, it's enclosed.
Shibata Katsuie probably hadn't come out here with any grand purpose either.
She was just seeking to soothe her weary body and mind.
Srring.
Baek Il-yeong lightly spun the Onimaru Kunitsuna in his hand once before sliding it back into its scabbard. Holding a drawn sword in front of someone he was talking to wasn't exactly a good look.
At that moment.
Whooo.
The chill of the late-night air brushed the cheeks of the man and woman. Winter had ended, but a faint coolness still lingered.
Moonlight gently illuminated the ground.
The samurai stood at a distance behind Baek Il-yeong and Shibata Katsuie, respecting their space and not interfering.
And so, the two shared a brief silence, simply facing each other.
How much time passed like that?
Baek Il-yeong spoke first.
“Do you have something to say?”
His question was perfectly natural.
Even with the mask on, Shibata Katsuie's gaze remained fixed on him.
In response, she parted her lips as if to speak, hesitated, and finally said,
“How about a spar?”
The words she uttered after some deliberation caught Baek Il-yeong quite off guard.
...A spar.
It was an abrupt suggestion, but he nodded readily all the same.
A spar probably wasn't her real goal.
It was likely just a means to continue the conversation. Even so, he didn't mind.
It might even be good practice.
He'd already grown somewhat fond of swordsmanship.
There was no reason for him to turn down a spar with Shibata Katsuie, who would later be hailed as a fierce general. They'd done it several times before, after all.
“Very well. I'll have some bokken brought over.”
“Please do.”
Baek Il-yeong flashed a bright smile and called over a nearby samurai to fetch wooden swords. Soon enough, two bokken arrived, and the pair faced each other, grips tight.
Grip.
The feel of the bokken in his hand was no different from a real sword. It had an iron core embedded in the wood, so the weight was comparable too.
...Hoo.
They faced off.
And without a word, they lunged at each other simultaneously.
Having sparred multiple times before, they needed no signal to begin. As their footsteps pounded forward, a fierce wind whipped their cheeks, and Baek Il-yeong thrust his blade first.
He slashed diagonally from an angle.
The trajectory aimed precisely at her abdomen was incredibly menacing, even for a bokken.
But Baek Il-yeong had no expectation that the strike would land. And as predicted, Shibata Katsuie simply stepped back to evade, then targeted his outstretched wrist with a downward smash.
Did I get her?
No matter how skilled a warrior, a slashed wrist means they can't hold a sword. Though with a bokken, "strike" fit better than "slash."
He put his full power into the overhead blow.
Bokken or not.
That was the warrior's way.
But in the end, her attack didn't reach him.
Pabab!
Unlike Shibata Katsuie, who retreated after her swing, Baek Il-yeong charged forward. Her strike, meant for his wrist, glanced off his shoulder instead, allowing him to close the distance in an instant.
The difference in their builds made his rush far more threatening than that of an average samurai.
Thus, this time Shibata Katsuie twisted sideways instead of back.
Pabab!
In the next moment, their bokken clashed, faces inches apart.
“You're no pushover.”
“...You're too kind.”
Though her face was masked, it didn't cover her eyes, so their gazes locked perfectly. Without the mask, they'd be close enough to share breaths.
Yet neither felt any awkward tension—only burning competitive spirit toward each other.
They'd exchanged just a few blows, but both knew it clearly: if even one had landed properly... and if they'd held real swords instead of bokken, the opponent would already be dead.
Of course, you couldn't kill with a bokken.
Even so, their mindset was no different from a duel to the death.
How long did the standoff last?
Whooo.
The moment a gust rustled the dry branches, pabab—their locked blades pushed apart, and they leaped back.
Simultaneously, Shibata Katsuie, whose foot hit the ground first, surged forward again.
There's a common misconception among those who haven't wielded a sword. Or rather, among those unfamiliar with martial arts.
Baek Il-yeong's eyes flashed as he thought.
In media, martial arts look flashy.
Often featuring impossible trajectories for a human, perfectly embodying "cool."
But having fought real battles and gripped a sword, he now knew.
In actual combat, flashiness or style didn't matter. It was all about thoroughly reading the opponent's attacks while concealing your own—a brutal game of wits.
Prepare defense while attacking.
Predict the next strike from shoulder and wrist movements, defend in a split-second less than a second. Life and death hinged on that instant.
And in this exchange of wits, the victor was...
Paak!
Shibata Katsuie.
“Kgh!”
Baek Il-yeong winced at the sharp pain in his wrist and fell back. Even so, Shibata Katsuie couldn't help but admire him inwardly.
He didn't drop the sword.
Bokken or not, the iron core made the impact on his wrist far from light. Yet Baek Il-yeong merely let out a small grunt and pressed the attack again.
Impressive, indeed.
Truly remarkable.
Watching this, Shibata Katsuie raised her bokken at an angle too.
A spar ends when the opponent admits defeat—or has no choice but to.
Thus, it wasn't over.
He hadn't conceded yet.
“You're fierce.”
Baek Il-yeong grinned sheepishly. For a moment, Shibata Katsuie wondered if she'd hit too hard.
But that thought was fleeting.
Sweep.
As Baek Il-yeong reset his stance, she followed suit after a brief pause.
And just as they were about to clash again.
Rustle.
A sudden sound of movement near their ears made them whirl toward the wall in unison, ready to face any foe.
Tension hung in the air.
One of them swallowed hard.
Baek Il-yeong's eyes darted as he thought.
No way... an assassin?
If it were anyone, Dota Gozen or Nobuyuki would make more sense, but the most likely culprit was one of the senior retainers attached to them.
To avoid losing the power crammed into their old bellies.
And then.
Pabab!
Something fast-moving rustled, and a black shadow leaped atop the white wall. They dodged instinctively to block the incoming projectile, but at that instant.
—Meow?
The cat's cry brushing their ears froze them in place.
Soon after, they both lowered their swords almost simultaneously.
For good reason...
It seemed it wasn't a ninja, just a cat.
“Hah.”
Baek Il-yeong stared blankly at the cat on the wall for a moment before bursting into incredulous laughter at Shibata Katsuie.
“Haha...”
She let out a chuckle too.
At the same time, both thought the same.
Looks like the spar's off the table.