Push Forward

"Spar with me."

How had things come to this?

To understand the chain of events that led here, the clock needed to turn back a little.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Regular classes had ended, and I was staying behind to practice with my teammates when Min Ji-won suddenly sought us out and asked for a consultation out of nowhere.

Nothing urgent was on my plate, so I stepped aside without much thought and heard her out.

"I want you to teach me how to bring people in line through force."

"…What?"

The request was so completely out of left field that it left me staring.

"You keep your teammates in check with raw power, don't you?"

Fortunately, the explanation that followed let me piece together the shape of the conversation, so I decided to hear her through to the end.

"And?"

"Well… I was thinking maybe I need to do the same."

Unlike the composed figure I'd seen earlier in the training hall, she looked distinctly unsure of herself. She might not show it in front of her teammates, but she was clearly bothered by how poorly her team's atmosphere was going.

"Is it because they're hostile toward you?"

"It's not quite like that…"

"Then why?"

Min Ji-won hesitated at the question, then slowly opened her mouth.

"I don't mind if they resent me. But if I can't keep them properly under control, things could get dangerous when it counts. So I need a real way to lead them — if ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠only to keep that from happening."

"Oh…"

An unexpectedly admirable answer slipped a note of genuine admiration out of me. The goal of "control" itself was one thing, but the motive behind it was surprising.

Min Ji-won had always been the proud type. For someone like her to come asking for advice meant she had steeled herself for this. Seeking counsel from the leader of another team — a rival team, no less — was an implicit admission that she fell short of that ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠person.

And the reason is for the sake of teammates she doesn't even get along with.

I'd assumed that at her age her thinking would still be immature, but I might need to revise my internal picture of who Min Ji-won was.

"So you came to ask how to handle your teammates well. That about sum it up?"

"If we're cutting to the conclusion… yes."

"Hmm…"

I turned it over. Not whether to give her advice — but what kind of advice would actually help.

First things first.

"Bringing them to heel with force is a method. With your skill level, you could probably pull it off without much trouble."

"Then—"

"That doesn't mean it'll necessarily go in a good direction."

In my case, I'd only gone that route because someone like Kang Min-hyeon — a loud, high-strung type — had been in the mix. It wasn't some guaranteed winning formula I'd chosen on principle. Worse, one wrong step with that approach and the backlash could get ugly. Not something I'd recommend.

"If you're set on using it, I'll give you a few pointers — but I don't recommend it. Every team has a different atmosphere, different personalities, different tendencies. Just copying me isn't going to make your teammates fall in line."

"……"

On top of that, ruling through force required a certain amount of experience. I'd been through plenty of it in my previous life, but if Min Ji-won tried to imitate it cold, the best she'd manage was a clumsy impression.

"Then what am I supposed to…"

Min Ji-won's head slowly drooped. It was a loss of confidence I'd never seen from her in the training hall.

She was talented, yes — but she was also a relentless hard worker. Always chasing what was right, always wrestling with the gap between reality and her ideals. Whether it was the butterfly effect I'd set in motion or something else, this crisis of hers seemed to have arrived a little earlier than it had in the original story. Still, if it could be resolved now, that wasn't a bad thing.

"You don't need to half-heartedly cheer them on, and you don't need to crack the whip any harder either. What you say is usually right."

If she wanted a purely logical solution, the answer would be to step into a Tower and learn through real fieldwork — everything would improve from there. But that wasn't the answer Min Ji-won was looking for. And saying it wouldn't untangle the knot of her worries anyway. Right now, advice that could ease her anxiety was enough.

"Push forward. Factor in the pushback against the leader. Factor in the conflict. And shove through it all the same."

At my words, Min Ji-won's head slowly lifted to meet my eyes.

"Going limp because you're scared of being wrong — that's not your style."

In the original story, Min Ji-won had always been more upright than anyone. That very quality of hers had pulled Lee Yeon-hui's fraying mind back together more than once. And because she was that kind of person, she had always fought at Yeon-hui's side, shouldering the same crushing weight.

"So just plant your flag and go. If you're wrong, I'll tell you."

They were clumsy words — closer to a pep talk than any real logic — but maybe they still reached her somehow. Min Ji-won's large eyes blinked at me.

"But how long have you even known me, to talk like that?"

"…Uh… well. Fair point. But we're in the same class. There are things you can tell even from a short acquaintance."

I couldn't exactly say I'd been rooting for her the whole time from inside an original novel, so I fumbled out a cover. Fortunately, Min Ji-won didn't dig any deeper.

If anything—

"Pfft."

—she let out a small laugh. I didn't know whether my words had actually helped, but the heavy mood had lightened a little, so I figured it had meant something.

I was still thinking that when—

"Hey."

Min Ji-won looked me straight in the face and spoke.

"Spar with me. Just once."

"What…?"

"I said spar with me. Just one match."

It wasn't that I hadn't heard her. I just couldn't follow how the conversation had jumped there, so I stared at her blankly.

"Why all of a sudden?"

"I just get the feeling that if I spar with you, I'll understand something."

An absurdly abstract reason, and not one I could really argue with.

"Mm…"

It wasn't a big deal either way. Min Ji-won wasn't the type to spiral just because she lost by a crushing margin, so there was nothing to worry about on that front. If anything, it was a chance to see what she could really do. The only mildly annoying part was that, as the top-ranked student, sparring with her would draw eyes.

I glanced at her. She was still watching me with those bright, unwavering eyes, not looking away for a second.

"Alright. Let's do it."

I didn't know what Min Ji-won would take away from this match, but her growth was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠something I wanted too.

And when she looks at you like that, turning her down isn't exactly easy.

Word that Min Ji-won and I were sparring spread through the first-year campus in an instant.

When we'd gone to ask a teacher to supervise, someone who saw us had posted it on the school's official social media. The training hall was normally divided into sections, and not everyone practiced there, so it tended to be fairly quiet — but once news of our match got out, the spectator seats filled with a crowd large enough that you could almost say every class had shown up.

That's a lot of people.

I swept a glance over the stands and couldn't help a small sigh. I'd expected a crowd, but the turnout was even bigger than I'd braced for, and the annoyance was already settling in before we'd even started.

Across from me, Min Ji-won drew her sword and settled into her stance. With a crowd this size, nerves would have been natural — but she showed no sign of them, quietly running a hand along her blade.

She brought it.

A personal relic she never used in ordinary practice. Bringing her beloved sword all the way here said plenty about how much weight she was putting on this spar with me.

Of course, I'd come prepared in my own way. I was wearing an unusual relic I didn't normally borrow, wrapped around my hands like gauntlets.

Who knows when we'll get another chance to spar like this.

If there was anything I could teach her, better to show her all of it.

"Both fighters, ready!"

At the teacher's signal, we slowly closed the distance.

"Begin!"

The teacher's voice rang through the training hall, and in the same instant Min Ji-won's sword came screaming in.

A sharp thrust from mid-guard toward the upper line, aimed at my side. Among the Academy's first-years, you could count on one hand the people who could break that strike — and yet.

KAAANG!

Park Yeon-chan stood his ground without so much as a flinch and casually knocked Min Ji-won's attack aside.

From her perspective, an all-out strike had just been stopped cold. But Min Ji-won didn't panic. She flowed straight into the next attack.

Whoosh—!

Blades carved the air in rapid succession, skimming past Park Yeon-chan by the thickness of a sheet of paper. With every near miss, Min Ji-won's sword seemed to pick up speed, growing faster and faster.

"Whoa. No wonder she's the Association President's daughter."

"Right? At this rate, is she going to beat the top rank?"

The spectators began to murmur as Min Ji-won caught fire. Her accelerating blade pressed Park Yeon-chan back step by step, eating away the space behind him until there was nowhere left to retreat.

Now!

Sensing the range had closed and the opening was hers, Min Ji-won drove her sword forward—

KAAANG!

—only for Park Yeon-chan's fist to casually shove the blade aside once more.

Not yet.

Even so, Min Ji-won pressed on as if she'd expected the block, chaining her strikes together. With no room left to dodge, Park Yeon-chan—

KAGAGAGAGANG!

—caught every last blow of her cascading assault with a single hand.

"Whoa, what the…"

"Did you see that? He only moved one hand."

"No wonder he's ranked first."

The same people who'd thought Min Ji-won held the upper hand a moment ago now gasped in shock and admiration.

And then—

Fwoosh—!

Park Yeon-chan, who until now had done nothing but evade and defend, clearly threw a punch meant to hit. Aimed straight at Min Ji-won.

KAAAAAANG!

"Ukh…!"

Min Ji-won thrust her sword forward and caught the fist — but the punch had come faster than she'd anticipated. She couldn't fully stop it, and she was driven skidding backward.

"If you can dodge, dodging is always best. If you can't dodge, deflect. Blocking is the last resort — something you only use when those first two aren't possible."

Park Yeon-chan dusted off his hands as he approached, and Min Ji-won nodded.

That first exchange. The moment her most confident attack had been stopped, Min Ji-won had known the gap between them was no ordinary one.

She couldn't win.

Park Yeon-chan already stood so far ahead that she couldn't even see him clearly. So the goal she set for herself was this:

Land one hit.

Succeed with a single attack. She narrowed her objective to that alone.

Which was why—

"Come on in."

—even with him taking that kind of attitude, her pride didn't sting and anger didn't rise. All she could think about was how to move.

Whoosh—

She cut in sharp along Park Yeon-chan's flank and swung.

From below to above.

She dropped her body and blade together until the sword nearly scraped the ground, then swept it upward in one clean motion.

Shrieeeek—!

The edge carved the wind in a trajectory so clean it was almost beautiful — and yet.

KAAANG!

A light clash of metal, and Min Ji-won's body was shoved back again.

"Defense."

Park Yeon-chan's low voice followed immediately, and—

Whoosh—!

Skrrreee—

—his fist skimmed past her side.

"Hah… ah… haah…"

It had been close, but unlike the previous attack, she'd cleanly deflected this one. Breathing hard, Min Ji-won was about to shift back into an offensive stance when—

"We're not done yet."

Park Yeon-chan closed the distance in a blink. She flinched, then quickly steadied herself and locked onto the movement of his shoulder.

But—

PAAANG!

"Ukh…!"

What came at her wasn't the fist she'd expected. It was Park Yeon-chan's leg. Caught completely off guard, Min Ji-won barely got her sword up in time — but the timing had been ripped away from her entirely. The impact she couldn't fully redirect sent her body flying.

She managed to stop herself with the sword and planted her feet so she wouldn't stagger.

"You were too fixated on the fists. You always have to see the whole opponent."

He looked at her almost as if he were grading a test, slowly closing the gap he'd opened. He was right — for a moment she had been watching only for the punch. And somehow, in that same instant, he'd read it and switched to a kick.

The realization drew a bitter smile onto Min Ji-won's face before she could stop it.

Dad was right.

By this point, she thought she understood why her father had rated Park Yeon-chan so highly. She found herself regretting the way she'd argued with him about it back then.

And Min Ji-won wasn't the only one stunned by the exchange.

This is ridiculous.

Kim Jae-jun, the teacher supervising the match, kept letting out quiet sounds of amazement as he watched.

Min Ji-won is without question upper-tier among the incoming students — no, based on what she's showing right now, she could aim even higher.

Everything she'd displayed so far was far too polished to dismiss as mere freshman work.

The problem was—

What the hell is that kid?

The opponent was on an entirely different level. Combat technique went without saying, but the presence he carried felt like some battle-hardened veteran.

That kick just now — someone might write it off as a simple feint. It wasn't.

He'd known exactly where Min Ji-won was looking and thrown the kick specifically to break that focus. Even with a skill gap, that kind of read wasn't something you pulled off on talent alone.

It was pure experience. Hard to believe — but at that young age, he had already finished living through more than his share of it.

"Want to stop?"

He asked it with an easy face. She shook her head and reset her stance.

"…No. I want to keep going. I feel like I can grab onto something."

Breathing hard as she said it, Min Ji-won watched the corner of Park Yeon-chan's mouth lift.

"Then come at me."

"Yeah."

Her sword swung with the answer. The distance between them was still considerable — which meant Min Ji-won hadn't aimed the cut at Park Yeon-chan at all.

The ground…?

She drove her blade into the dirt floor of the training hall in front of her. The earthen surface split deep and kicked up a cloud of dust, and in moments the grit hung thick across the arena.

"Hmm…"

An attack that used the environment rather than a direct frontal assault — a change from everything so far. Park Yeon-chan made a small ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠sound of interest just as Min Ji-won's sword came knifing through the dust cloud from multiple angles, hunting him down.

She's memorized the distance and position in her head and is coming at me from every direction at once.

Thrusts flew in from angles designed to make her location unreadable. Park Yeon-chan moved busily while she stabbed hard at the spot where he'd been standing — but.

There's no sensation.

Nothing so much as brushed her fingertips. She stopped attacking and sharpened her focus, trying to catch any presence nearby, when—

"Here."

Min Ji-won's sword was already moving before Park Yeon-chan's voice fully registered.

KAAAAANG!

Blade met fist in a sharp, grating clash. She'd caught his attack at the perfect timing.

"Good. Keep your senses that sharp."

Park Yeon-chan grinned and dusted off the fist she'd knocked aside.

"You know what you're lacking now, so start training that part from here on."

"I'm not—"

She started to protest the way he was wrapping things up, but—

"I think I've handed out enough homework."

—a sudden, bone-deep chill locked her body in place, and the words died in her throat.

"I'll show you just once. Watch carefully."

The gauntlets wrapped around his hands stretched long, then coiled upward into the shape of a sword.

A form-shifting relic.

Not something people used often — the durability was low, it was finicky to control, and it burned through mana, so the cost-efficiency was terrible. Students almost never touched them, and they barely saw real combat use either.

And he's using it like that…?

Park Yeon-chan handled the temperamental relic with complete ease.

"I'm no specialist, so just take this as a reference."

She swallowed hard.

The presence rolling off him was unmistakably different from before. A sensation like being pierced through by something razor-sharp prickled across her skin.

Just like when I caught his presence earlier.

She recalled the moment she'd blocked his attack and honed her senses even deeper, even sharper, bracing for what was coming—

"One."

"…!"

Somehow, Park Yeon-chan was already right in front of her. She hadn't tracked his presence at all and was a full beat late, but the thought that she had to move — now — sent her fingertips twitching into motion.

"Two."

SHRAAAAAAAAK!

Park Yeon-chan's sword had already finished its cut.

The blade stopped just short of her shoulder. At some point the supervising teacher had appeared right beside Park Yeon-chan, and behind Min Ji-won a massive sword scar split the vast training hall nearly in half.

"Park Yeon-chan — next time you spar, you might want to read the room a little better."

The teacher, who had rushed in just in case, tossed the remark out and turned his back to leave.

"I lost."

Min Ji-won's voice rang small through the silenced training hall.

No one in the hall managed either awe or shock. They simply stood there, quietly staring at the scene before them.

A man slipped out of the quieted training hall. He walked somewhere empty of people, then pulled out his phone and placed a call.