Enduring Is Also a Fight

The morning at Cheongseong Sect was quiet yet bustling. Seoryeong found the sounds strange at first. Village mornings began with roosters crowing and her mother lighting the stove. Her father would clear his throat, open the door, the neighbor's dog would bark for no reason, and footsteps of people heading to the fields echoed in the distance. Mountain village mornings were rougher—smoke and livestock, people stirring after holding their breath all night, children cautiously stepping outside.

But Cheongseong Sect's morning was different. The sound of wooden swords came before any rooster. Thud. Thud. Thud. Same interval. Same breath. Same footwork. Distant water and birdsong existed, yet the steady rhythm of training blanketed the entire mountain.

Someone swept the courtyard. The swish of a broom against stone rang softly. Someone carried water buckets. Someone recited texts in a low voice like morning prayers. Incense drifted through the air—the same clear scent from Cheongheo Hall yesterday. It didn't weigh on the mind like Seol Hajin's. It simply mingled with the mountain air and settled calmly.

Seoryeong opened her eyes. An unfamiliar ceiling. A strange room. Pine branches swaying outside the window. Yet when she reached out, the ebony pole rested within reach. The broken spear tip lay by her pillow. Confirming it loosened something in her body.

She slowly sat up. Sleep had been shallow. She had dreamed—red battlefields tangled with the sound of Cheongseong's wooden swords. In the dream, someone wielded a massive halberd while others swung swords in unison. The battlefield's roar was hot and wild; Cheongseong's wooden swords were cold and precise. The two sounds didn't match, yet strangely overlapped. Seoryeong stood between them. In her hands was something neither wooden spear, ebony pole, nor halberd. Heavy, but without form yet. Even after waking, the weight lingered in her palms.

Seoryeong opened and closed her hand. She still didn't know what she would grasp.

Then Hwarin's voice came from the next room.

"Awake?"

Seoryeong looked toward the door. "Yeah."

"Wash up and come out. The test starts today."

Test. At that word, Seoryeong's eyes brightened. It included fighting. Etiquette too. Patience too. Basics too. They would even examine how she handled fire. She didn't understand most of it, but the word "test" pleased her. A test revealed how far she had come. If weak, she would be hit. If hit, she would learn. If she learned, she would grow stronger.

Seoryeong reached for the ebony pole, then stopped. Dogyeom had said not to swing weapons carelessly inside the sect grounds. Hwarin had told her to rest. Would it be all right to carry it from morning? After a brief hesitation, she slung the pole over her shoulder. Simply holding it wasn't swinging it. She reached that conclusion herself.

When she opened the door and stepped out, Hwarin stood in the courtyard. Her red robes were freshly changed and clean, her hair neatly tied. She looked nothing like the dust- and blood-covered figure from the road yesterday. Inside Cheongseong Sect, she truly resembled a proper disciple.

Seoryeong stared at her for a moment. Hwarin raised an eyebrow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"You're clean."

Hwarin paused. "Is that a compliment?"

"Yeah."

"Should I say thank you?"

Seoryeong nodded. "Yeah."

Hwarin chuckled. "All right. Thank you."

Her gaze dropped to the ebony pole. "Why did you bring that out?"

"I didn't swing it."

"Defending yourself before I even asked."

Seoryeong looked down at the pole. "Is just holding it allowed?"

Hwarin thought for a moment. Outsiders carrying weapons inside Cheongseong Sect wouldn't look good. Yet the ebony pole had become more than a weapon to Seoryeong. It was what she received after her first spear broke. A temporary path given by Mak Cheol. Forcing her to set it aside overnight might make her more unstable.

Hwarin said, "You may carry it today, but do not swing it until I permit it."

Seoryeong nodded. "Yeah."

"I mean it."

"Yeah."

"Even if someone says something you don't like, don't swing it."

Seoryeong paused. Hwarin narrowed her eyes. "Why did you stop?"

"I was thinking."

"About what?"

"How much I can dislike something before it's not allowed."

Hwarin exhaled deeply. "For today, none of it is allowed."

"None?"

"Yes. Use words."

Seoryeong nodded with a reluctant face. "Yeah."

Hwarin examined Seoryeong's clothes. She hadn't received the sect uniform yet and still wore her travel clothes, merely brushed clean. Her silver hair was tied haphazardly, and her red eyes were still slightly unfocused from sleep. Yet with the ebony pole in hand, she retained the air of a wild beast. It didn't suit Cheongseong Sect's orderly courtyard.

Hwarin said, "Let's tie your hair again."

Seoryeong touched her head. "Why?"

"If you appear before the elders with loose hair, they'll bring up etiquette again."

"Hair is etiquette too?"

"Generally, yes."

Seoryeong's face grew genuinely weary. "There's so much etiquette."

"There is. A lot."

Hwarin sat Seoryeong down and retied her hair. The silver strands were soft but easily came undone. Without proper brushing, they quickly grew messy. Seoryeong sat still, then asked, "Did you do this since you were little?"

"What?"

"Etiquette."

"Yes. It's one of the first things you learn when you enter a sect."

"Is it fun?"

"No."

Seoryeong tried to turn her head. Hwarin held her still. "Don't move."

"Why do it if it's not fun?"

"Because it's necessary."

"Why is it necessary?"

Hwarin kept brushing. "When many people gather, rules are needed so they don't clash. Who speaks first, where to stop, how to show respect—those things must be decided in advance."

Seoryeong thought for a moment. When many people gathered, they clashed. It had been the same on the roads. Carts and people collided, merchants cursed, warriors picked fights. Cheongseong Sect had many people—many disciples, many strong individuals, many elders. If they moved freely, fights would break out. Then was etiquette meant to prevent fights?

Seoryeong seemed to understand a little. "So etiquette is about stopping fights from happening?"

Hwarin paused. It was a better understanding than expected. "That is one way to see it."

"Then what about when fighting is necessary?"

"There is etiquette for that too."

Seoryeong's face hardened. "Even when fighting?"

"Sparring has its own etiquette."

Seoryeong looked genuinely pained. "There's really a lot."

Hwarin smiled. "Still, you must learn it."

"Yeah."

Once her hair was tied, Seoryeong's appearance looked slightly more orderly. Of course, the red eyes, ebony pole, and broken spear tip at her waist prevented her from looking truly tame. But at least she no longer resembled a wild beast that had just woken up. Hwarin nodded with satisfaction. "Done."

Seoryeong touched the hair tie. "It's stuffy."

"Endure it."

"Is this patience too?"

"It is."

Seoryeong drew a deep breath. The test seemed to have already begun.

When they left the annex, Cheongmyeong and Dogyeom were waiting. Cheongmyeong waved brightly, then quickly clasped his hands in greeting after catching Dogyeom's eye. "Hwarin sajae. Seoryeong sojeo."

Seoryeong mimicked the greeting she had learned yesterday. It was still clumsy, but better than before. Cheongmyeong's face brightened. "Oh, you've already improved."

Seoryeong nodded. "Yeah."

Dogyeom's brow twitched at the casual reply, but he didn't correct her this time. Instead, he looked at the ebony pole. "You're carrying it again today."

Seoryeong said, "I won't swing it."

Dogyeom studied her for a moment. "It's good that you said it first."

Seoryeong looked at Hwarin. "Compliment?"

Hwarin nodded. "It is."

Seoryeong turned to Dogyeom. "Thank you."

Dogyeom still hadn't adjusted to this level of honesty. "……Right."

Cheongmyeong stifled a laugh beside them. Hwarin asked, "What's the schedule today?"

Dogyeom answered, "This morning is etiquette and discipline review. Elder Ungak said he would oversee it personally."

Hwarin's expression darkened slightly. "Elder Ungak from the very beginning."

Cheongmyeong muttered quietly, "The Sect Leader tried to stop him, but he insisted strongly."

Seoryeong asked, "Is Elder Ungak a sharp person?"

Cheongmyeong looked flustered. Dogyeom coughed. Hwarin said, "Correct. But don't call him that."

"Then what do I call him?"

"Elder Ungak."

"Yeah."

Dogyeom said quietly, "Before the elder, it's better to answer with 'yes' as well."

Seoryeong immediately asked, "Why?"

Dogyeom started to explain, then faltered. Hwarin answered instead. "It's an expression of respect."

"If I respect someone, I say yes?"

"Generally."

Seoryeong nodded. "Yes."

The answer came so promptly that everyone paused. Cheongmyeong finally laughed. "You're doing well."

Seoryeong was serious. "I'm learning."

Dogyeom gave a very small nod. The child he had seen at the mountain gate yesterday seemed slightly different. She was still dangerous—her eyes clearly held a passion for fighting. But she also possessed the will to learn. The coexistence of both was what made her stranger.

The group headed to Yeobeop Hall. It was a small building beside the training grounds. Inside, low tables and cushions were arranged in rows, and wooden plaques inscribed with sect rules hung on the walls. Seoryeong stiffened the moment she saw them. There were so many characters. Far too many.

Elder Ungak was already seated inside. His sharp gaze was exactly as she remembered from Cheongheo Hall. Beside him lay several books and a thin bamboo rod.

A bamboo rod. Seoryeong's eyes went to it. Was it a weapon? It looked weak. But it would probably hurt if it struck the back of the hand.

Elder Ungak spoke. "You're not late."

Hwarin, Dogyeom, and Cheongmyeong clasped their hands in greeting. Seoryeong followed a moment later. "Yes."

Elder Ungak's eyes moved ever so slightly. It was an improvement from yesterday. "Sit."

Seoryeong sat on a cushion. As she tried to sit with her legs loosely crossed, Hwarin whispered from behind, "Knees."

Seoryeong adjusted her posture. She knelt properly. It was uncomfortable. Truly uncomfortable. She had rarely sat like this in the village. Even less so in the mountains. It wasn't good for fighting either—her legs were folded, making it hard to spring forward immediately. Seoryeong frowned.

Elder Ungak said at once, "Do you have complaints?"

Seoryeong tried to answer. It's uncomfortable. But Hwarin had told her yesterday to be careful with her words. To say "yes" when showing respect. No—this wasn't about respect. Seoryeong thought for a moment, then said, "It's uncomfortable."

Elder Ungak's eyebrows rose. Hwarin closed her eyes. Yet Elder Ungak did not scold her harshly. "You sit anyway. That is patience."

Seoryeong was slightly surprised by those words. This too was patience. Tying her hair was patience. Not swinging her weapon was patience. Kneeling was patience. There was so much patience. But this was a test. Seoryeong nodded. "Yes."

Elder Ungak raised the bamboo rod and pointed at the plaques. "If you wish to stay in Cheongseong, you must first know the rules. Those who act freely simply because they are strong cannot remain here."

Seoryeong looked at him. Elder Ungak was speaking to her. Acting freely because one was strong. She probably wasn't among the strongest in Cheongseong yet. There was the Sect Leader, elders, and many stronger than Hwarin. Yet Elder Ungak saw her as dangerous.

Seoryeong said, "There are many people stronger than me."

Elder Ungak stopped. "What do you mean?"

"If acting freely because you're strong is the problem, then people stronger than me are more dangerous, aren't they?"

The hall fell silent. Cheongmyeong swallowed. Dogyeom's eyes widened slightly. Hwarin covered her mouth with her hand. Elder Ungak regarded Seoryeong quietly. The words were rude. Yet they weren't entirely wrong. The stronger one was, the greater the need for discipline. Elder Ungak spoke slowly. "That is why the strong must govern themselves even more strictly."

Seoryeong blinked. "Ah."

That, she understood a little. When the strong acted freely, more things broke. Sawoldo had been like that. With no one to stop him, he killed villagers and tried to set fires. Seol Hajin had pushed Yu Soha while believing she was right. When the strong acted freely, the weak were shaken. Therefore, the stronger one was, the more they must restrain themselves. It was similar to what Mak Cheol had said about controlling fire.

Seoryeong nodded. "That sounds right."

Elder Ungak's expression grew subtle. The tone was neither quite praise nor approval, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but Seoryeong had spoken sincerely. He pointed at the plaques again. "First, do not swing weapons privately inside the sect grounds."

Seoryeong nodded. "Yes."

"Second, do not lay hands on fellow disciples."

"Fellow disciples?"

Dogyeom explained, "It means people of the same sect."

Seoryeong thought. People of the same sect. She hadn't formally entered yet. Then she wasn't a fellow disciple. "I'm not one yet, right?"

Elder Ungak's eyes twitched. "During the test period, the rule applies equally."

"Equally?"

Hwarin said quietly, "It means to regard it as the same."

Seoryeong nodded. "Yes."

"Third, show proper respect to elders and senior disciples."

"Yes."

"Fourth, do not be swayed by outside rumors."

Seoryeong looked up. "Like the 'chewed them up' thing?"

Cheongmyeong coughed, unable to hold back. Dogyeom lowered his head. Hwarin already wore a resigned expression. Elder Ungak drew a deep breath. "Correct."

Seoryeong nodded seriously. "I didn't chew anyone up."

"There is no need to repeat that here."

"Yes."

Elder Ungak continued explaining the rules. Seoryeong listened. At first, it was truly difficult. There were too many characters, too many difficult words. Her knees began to ache. Keeping her back straight was tiresome. The ebony pole rested beside her, and her hands kept wanting to reach for it. Her body wanted to move. She had heard wooden swords from morning, and the scent of strong people lingered throughout Cheongseong Sect. Yet she sat on a cushion listening to rules. It was frustrating. Truly frustrating. This was harder than fighting.

Seoryeong clenched her hands on her knees. Elder Ungak said, "Jin Seoryeong."

"Yes."

"Your eyes are wavering."

"My legs are numb."

It was an honest answer. Cheongmyeong's shoulders finally shook. Elder Ungak shot him a glare, then looked back at Seoryeong. "Then do you wish to stretch them?"

"Yes."

"Then endure."

Seoryeong blinked. It was too simple. She wanted to stretch. Then endure. This too was a test. Seoryeong didn't grit her teeth. Instead, she drew a slow breath. Like facing a strong opponent. No—different from then. In a fight, blood heated. Now, blood pooled uncomfortably. Her legs ached, her body wanted to move, her hands sought the ebony pole. But she must not move. Was enduring this also a fight?

Seoryeong suddenly thought so. There was no opponent in front of her. No blade. Yet something inside her wanted to move. Was that the opponent? The fire Mak Cheol spoke of. The heat Hwarin worried about. The self-control Elder Ungak mentioned. All those words connected strangely.

Seoryeong straightened her posture. Her legs ached. Still, she endured. Elder Ungak watched her. His gaze remained sharp, yet it had changed ever so slightly. He had expected her to bolt. To complain, to say she couldn't endure, to at least break her posture. But Seoryeong endured. Her expression honestly showed suffering, yet her body held firm. It wasn't a full shichen. But to Seoryeong, it felt like one.

When the rule explanation ended, Elder Ungak set down the bamboo rod. "This morning ends here."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened slightly. "Can I stand up?"

"You may."

Seoryeong tried to rise immediately. But her legs were numb. Her body swayed for a moment. Hwarin reached out, but Seoryeong steadied herself. Her legs tingled. It was a different pain from being struck in a fight. Seoryeong frowned. "It hurts strangely."

Cheongmyeong nearly burst out laughing. Even Dogyeom's mouth twitched. Elder Ungak said, "Remember that too. Such pain exists in enduring."

Seoryeong nodded seriously. "Yes."

Elder Ungak studied her for a moment, then said, "This afternoon, we go to the training grounds."

Seoryeong's eyes lit up completely. "Fight?"

"We examine the basics."

"Are basics also fighting?"

"To you, they might feel that way."

Seoryeong nodded with satisfaction. Morning etiquette had been difficult. But it was over. Now she could move.

On the way out of Yeobeop Hall, Cheongmyeong approached Seoryeong. "That was impressive."

Seoryeong looked at him. "What was?"

"Not many outsiders have lasted that long before Elder Ungak."

"My legs went numb."

"Still. You didn't run away."

Run away. Seoryeong considered the words. Running away from etiquette. That might be somewhat shameful. Similar to fleeing before a strong opponent? Seoryeong said, "You can't lose, right?"

Cheongmyeong blinked. "Against etiquette?"

"Yeah."

Cheongmyeong paused, then laughed loudly. Dogyeom glared at him. "Cheongmyeong."

"I'm sorry. But it's just so……"

Hwarin also couldn't suppress her laughter. "It isn't wrong."

Dogyeom sighed quietly. "She interprets everything as fighting."

Seoryeong nodded. "It's the easiest way."

Dogyeom looked at her silently for a moment. Then he said, "Then win against etiquette as well."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened slightly. "Yeah."

Hwarin smiled faintly at Dogyeom. "You're getting used to her too."

Dogyeom didn't answer. But he didn't deny it either.

Lunch was served in the sect dining hall. Long tables filled the spacious room, and disciples sat in rows eating. Rice, greens, tofu, clear soup, and a few pickled vegetables. No meat. Seoryeong stopped when she saw the table. Hwarin spoke as if she had expected this. "This is Cheongseong's usual meal."

"No meat?"

"It doesn't come every day."

"Why?"

"Frugality is also training."

Seoryeong looked genuinely shocked. Frugality. More training. There was too much training in Cheongseong Sect. Tying hair was patience. Kneeling was patience. Not eating meat was training. Seoryeong looked down at her rice bowl. There was no meat, but she was hungry. She had to eat. She took a spoonful of rice. It was bland. The greens were slightly bitter, the tofu soft. It wasn't bad. But there was no meat. Seoryeong said seriously, "This is hard."

Hwarin asked, suppressing laughter, "What is?"

"Cheongseong Sect."

Cheongmyeong's shoulders shook as he tried not to laugh across from her. Dogyeom set down his chopsticks. "It is proper to eat quietly during meals."

Seoryeong immediately closed her mouth. And ate. Quietly. Truly quietly. The sight was so awkward that Cheongmyeong eventually choked on his soup. Dogyeom glared at him. Hwarin turned away, swallowing her laughter.

After the meal, Seoryeong asked Hwarin, "Did I do well?"

"With what?"

"Eating quietly."

Hwarin nodded seriously. "You did well."

Seoryeong felt slightly satisfied. Etiquette was difficult, but she had won one round.

In the afternoon, they headed to the training grounds. Cheongseong Sect's main training area was vast. The ground was firmly packed, and wooden swords, spears, staffs, and training shields were neatly arranged on one side. In the center, disciples practiced basic footwork in pairs. When Seoryeong entered, gazes gathered again. Silver hair. Red eyes. Ebony pole. The rumored child. Their eyes held a mix of curiosity and wariness.

Seoryeong felt the stares but didn't pay them much mind. The training ground's scent was more interesting. Sweat. Wooden weapons. Dust. Breathing. And a moderate tension. This place smelled of fighting. Just without killing intent. Not the scent of trying to kill an opponent, but of testing and learning. Seoryeong found the difference slightly fascinating.

Elder Ungak stood at one side of the training grounds. Dogyeom and Cheongmyeong were beside him, and Hwarin stood next to Seoryeong. Elder Ungak said, "This afternoon's test covers basics and patience."

Seoryeong adjusted her grip on the ebony pole. "Fighting?"

"You cannot discuss fighting without examining the basics."

Seoryeong recalled what Dogyeom had said in the morning. Basics must be the same before one could build their own sword upon them. Like carving wood straight. "Yes."

Elder Ungak had a disciple bring a wooden staff. It was an ordinary wooden staff—lighter and shorter than the ebony pole. "Today, set that down and use this staff instead."

Seoryeong's eyes wavered immediately. Setting down the ebony pole. Again. "Why?"

"We will observe only your basic movements after you discard the weight you are accustomed to."

Seoryeong looked down at the ebony pole. In the morning, they had told her to simply carry it. Now they told her to set it down. She wanted to grow familiar with it in her hands, yet they kept telling her to put it down. It was frustrating. Truly frustrating.

Hwarin said quietly, "Seoryeong."

Seoryeong closed her mouth. This too was a test. Enduring was also a fight. If she had to win against etiquette, then setting down the ebony pole was also something she must overcome. Seoryeong drew a breath. Then she carried the ebony pole to the edge of the training grounds and set it down. "Just for a moment."

Elder Ungak nodded. "Good."

Seoryeong received the staff. It was light. Too light. Swinging it felt like it would fly away. Strength remained unused in her hands. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠It was lighter than even her previous wooden spear. Seoryeong frowned.

Elder Ungak said immediately, "You don't like it."

"It's light."

"That is why it is good. We can see how rough your strength is."

Seoryeong looked at the staff. Her strength was rough. Was that a bad thing? Probably right now, it was.

Elder Ungak drew a line on the training ground floor. "First, basic stance. Spread your feet shoulder-width apart and lower the tip of the staff."

Seoryeong followed. "Straighten your back."

She did. "Relax your shoulders."

Seoryeong lowered her shoulders. "Don't grip your wrists too tightly."

She loosened slightly. The staff felt like it would slip. She gripped again. "Too tight."

Seoryeong loosened again. "Too weak."

Seoryeong looked at Elder Ungak. Difficult. Truly difficult. If an opponent swung a blade, she just had to block. If strength was lacking, she just had to grip harder. But to grip neither too tight nor too loose? The middle. The middle was hard.

Elder Ungak lightly tapped the back of Seoryeong's hand with the bamboo rod. "Distribute strength to your fingers."

Seoryeong blinked. It didn't hurt much. But the feeling was slightly strange. She had been hit. Yet it wasn't a fight. "Is this hitting too?"

Elder Ungak paused. "It's correction."

"Is correction different from hitting?"

"The purpose is different."

Seoryeong nodded. Purpose was different. Hitting also differed by purpose. Sawoldo had hit to torment. Seoryeong had hit to stop. Elder Ungak hit to correct. Words were difficult, but the back of her hand understood a little.

Elder Ungak said, "Thrust. But do not use full strength."

Seoryeong thrust the staff. Whoosh. The tip cut through the air. Several disciples murmured quietly. It was fast and strong. But Elder Ungak's expression wasn't pleased. "Again."

Seoryeong thrust again. "Again."

She thrust once more. "Again."

Seoryeong performed the same motion over ten times. At first, she didn't understand why he kept saying "again." There was no opponent. No target. She was just thrusting into air. It wasn't fun. But Elder Ungak kept pointing things out. "Your feet die first." "Your shoulders rise." "Your waist power breaks." "Your wrist moves too early." "Don't push all the way through. Recovery is also movement." "Your eyes seek a fight before the target. Look at the target now."

Seoryeong's brow furrowed more and more. The words didn't seem wrong. But there were too many. So many things to correct just to move one body. Until now, she had simply done it. If she saw, she thrust. If blocked, she struck. If close, she pushed. If missed, she threw. That had worked. But it didn't work against strong people. Mak Cheol had pressed down her spear. Seol Hajin had cut her fingertips. Sawoldo had grazed her waist. Then were these corrections necessary?

Seoryeong thrust again. Elder Ungak said, "Slow."

Seoryeong thrust a little faster. "Rough."

She used less force. "Weak."

Seoryeong's eyebrows twitched. Fast made it rough. Less force made it weak. Strong made it rough. Then what was she supposed to do? Heat rose inside her. She wanted to hold the ebony pole. She wanted to swing something heavy once, greatly. She wanted to break this light staff.

At that moment, Hwarin's voice came from behind. "Seoryeong."

It was a single short word. Seoryeong stopped. She drew a breath. She was heating up. The fire Mak Cheol spoke of. Hwarin's worried face. Elder Ungak's test. Seoryeong felt the strength that had entered her hand gripping the staff. Too tight. The staff creaked. She loosened her hand slightly. Then she took her stance again.

Elder Ungak's gaze changed ever so slightly. "Again."

Seoryeong thrust. This time it was different. She didn't thrust with full strength. She didn't thrust only fast. She raised power from her feet, through her waist, opened her shoulders, and moved her wrist only at the very end. The staff tip moved forward, then immediately returned. Elder Ungak said nothing.

Silence. Seoryeong looked at him. "How was it?"

Elder Ungak spoke after a moment. "That was the first time it was worth watching."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened slightly. "Compliment?"

Elder Ungak said expressionlessly, "A little."

Cheongmyeong clenched his fist behind her. Dogyeom watched Seoryeong with a serious face. Hwarin exhaled in relief. Seoryeong thrust again. She tried to recapture the sensation from before. It wasn't easy. Just because it happened once didn't mean it would continue. Her shoulders tensed again, her feet died first, her wrist moved early. Elder Ungak kept correcting. But this time, Seoryeong didn't explode. She was annoyed. Frustrated. Still, she did it again. Because there had been that one time just now. That sensation hadn't been bad. She had used less force, yet it wasn't weak. She hadn't moved fast, yet it wasn't slow. That strange middle. Seoryeong wanted to grasp it again.

After many repetitions, Elder Ungak raised his hand. "Stop."

Seoryeong panted. Sweat flowed. It wasn't an intense fight, yet she had sweated. It was strange. She had only thrust the staff dozens of times, yet her body felt oddly tired. Especially her head. Moving while thinking was difficult.

Elder Ungak said, "Until now, your movements relied on strength and instinct."

Seoryeong nodded. That was probably right. "That is an advantage. But also a limitation."

Limitation. Seol Hajin had said something similar. But Elder Ungak's words differed slightly from Seol Hajin's. They didn't feel like cold confinement, but like an attempt to correct. "The greater your strength becomes, the heavier your weapon becomes, the smaller the disarray creates a larger opening. I heard you want a halberd."

Seoryeong's eyes brightened. "Yeah."

"Then you need the basics even more. A halberd is not a weapon lifted by strength alone. If the flow collapses, your body will tear first."

Mak Cheol had said something similar. Her body wasn't fully developed yet. If she forced it, her shoulders and waist would break first. Seoryeong listened seriously.

Elder Ungak continued. "What you did today was not thrusting. It was enduring."

Seoryeong blinked. "Enduring?"

"Endure strength. Endure impatience. Endure anger when wrong. Endure repeating until the correct sensation arrives."

Seoryeong looked down at the staff. Enduring. It wasn't only about enduring kneeling. Endure strength. Endure impatience. Endure anger. Endure repeating. Was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this also a fight? Seoryeong spoke slowly. "Enduring is also a fight."

Elder Ungak's gaze deepened. Hwarin smiled quietly at those words. Cheongmyeong looked impressed, and Dogyeom nodded. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Elder Ungak was silent for a moment, then said, "You may understand it that way."

Seoryeong nodded. Then it was a little easier. Enduring was also a fight. The opponent was the fire inside herself. The numbness in her knees. The strength entering her hands. The desire to swing the ebony pole right now. Fighting against those. If she won, she would grow stronger. Thinking that way, etiquette and basics felt slightly different. It wasn't fun. But it might not be completely unfun either.

Then a voice came from outside the training grounds. "Is that child the rumored silver-haired monster?"

The voice wasn't loud, but it was meant to be heard. The training ground air stiffened instantly. Hwarin's gaze turned cold. Dogyeom turned his head. Cheongmyeong looked troubled. Seoryeong slowly looked in that direction.

Three disciples stood at the training ground entrance. The young man in the center appeared similar in age to Dogyeom, but his atmosphere was different. Dogyeom was neat and upright. This young man was sharp. His eyes held overt curiosity mixed with slight mockery. His strength was slightly below Dogyeom's. But stronger than Cheongmyeong's. He alternated between looking at Seoryeong's staff and the ebony pole set aside. "Smaller than expected. From the rumors, I thought she was a demon that chewed up the Black Death Hall."

Seoryeong looked at him. The "chewed up" words again. This time inside Cheongseong Sect. She remembered what Hwarin had said. Today, none of it was allowed. Use words. Seoryeong drew a breath. "I didn't chew anyone up."

The young man chuckled. "Really? Then did you beat them to death?"

Seoryeong's brow furrowed slightly. She didn't like his words. But she still couldn't hit him. "I didn't kill them either."

"The rumors were quite inaccurate, then."

He took a step forward. "I am Cheongmu. Among the third-generation disciples of Cheongseong, my sword has some reputation."

Cheongmyeong muttered quietly, "Saying 'some reputation' with his own mouth……"

Dogyeom glared at him. Cheongmu jerked his chin toward Seoryeong. "I heard you're in the middle of testing. How about sparring with me once? I'd like to check how exaggerated the rumors are."

Hwarin said immediately, "Cheongmu, step back."

Cheongmu clasped his hands, though his attitude appeared light. "Hwarin sajae. I merely wish to see the skills of a child who may be entering."

Elder Ungak said quietly, "I have not permitted it."

Cheongmu stiffened slightly but didn't retreat immediately. "Elder, I heard actual combat is also part of the test."

"This is the time for examining basics."

Cheongmu's mouth curved upward ever so slightly. "Basics would be even better. I could show this strength-obsessed child what Cheongseong's fundamentals are like."

The words sounded plausible. But the scent was different. Seoryeong could tell. Cheongmu didn't want to teach her. He wanted to win. He wanted to suppress the rumored monster and make a name for himself. It wasn't as dirty as Sawoldo. Nor as cold as Seol Hajin. But it grated.

Cheongmu looked at Seoryeong. "What, are you scared?"

The disciples in the training grounds held their breath. Hwarin's face hardened. Dogyeom took a step toward Cheongmu. Then Seoryeong spoke. "Yeah."

Everyone stopped. Even Cheongmu blinked at the unexpected answer. "What?"

Seoryeong said seriously, "I'm scared."

The training grounds fell silent. A sneer began to spread across Cheongmu's face. But Seoryeong continued. "Hwarin told me not to hit anyone today. But your words make me want to hit you a little. So I'm scared."

Silence. Cheongmyeong's mouth fell open. Dogyeom turned his head, pressing down the corners of his mouth. Hwarin covered her face with her hand. Elder Ungak's eyebrows twitched greatly. Cheongmu's face reddened. "Are you mocking me right now?"

Seoryeong shook her head. "No. I'm enduring."

Elder Ungak looked at Seoryeong after hearing those words. Enduring. She was using what she had just learned. The method was strange, but she was clearly enduring. Hwarin said quietly, "Seoryeong, you're doing well."

Seoryeong felt slightly relieved. Cheongmu ground his teeth. "Then let's see how long that endurance lasts."

He drew his wooden sword. In that instant, the training ground air changed. Dogyeom stepped forward. "Cheongmu, are you defying the elder's command?"

Cheongmu looked at Dogyeom. "You always only look for rules. Do monsters like that follow rules when you go out into the martial world?"

"This is Cheongseong."

"That's why I'm suggesting we show Cheongseong's skill."

Dogyeom's hand went to his sword hilt. Just as the situation threatened to escalate into a clash between disciples, Elder Ungak struck the bamboo rod against the floor. Thud. The sound wasn't loud, but everyone stopped. "Cheongmu."

Elder Ungak's voice was low. "Do you know what you're doing right now?"

Cheongmu lowered his head. "I was merely……"

"You were swayed by rumors."

Cheongmu's face hardened. "I just taught this child the rule about not being swayed by outside rumors. Yet you, a Cheongseong disciple, brought those rumors here and picked a fight."

The entire training grounds fell silent. Cheongmu lost his words. Elder Ungak continued. "And under the pretext of testing your opponent, you tried to reveal yourself. That is not training. It is vanity."

Cheongmu's face reddened. "Elder, I……"

"Put down the wooden sword."

Cheongmu bit his lip. But eventually lowered the sword. Elder Ungak looked at Seoryeong. "Jin Seoryeong."

Seoryeong raised her head. "Yes."

"You just endured."

"Yes."

"That is the most important thing you learned today."

Seoryeong blinked. Was it praise? Probably praise. "Compliment?"

Elder Ungak answered directly this time. "It is."

Seoryeong's face brightened slightly. Cheongmu ground his teeth harder at the sight. Elder Ungak said to Cheongmu, "You will copy the rule plaques ten times after tonight's training."

Cheongmu's face hardened. "Yes."

"And tomorrow morning, I permit a formal spar with this child."

In that moment, everyone's eyes widened. Seoryeong's eyes brightened the most. Hwarin said immediately, "Elder."

Elder Ungak raised his hand. "Not now. Today is a day of enduring. Tomorrow, we compete under formal procedures and rules."

He looked at Seoryeong. "Jin Seoryeong, can you endure until tomorrow?"

Seoryeong looked at Cheongmu. Cheongmu still wore an indignant expression. He was strong. Not overwhelmingly so, but he had properly learned Cheongseong's sword. Fighting him would teach her something. She wanted to fight a little even now. But if she endured until tomorrow, she could fight formally. Enduring was also a fight. Seoryeong slowly nodded. "Yes."

Elder Ungak seemed faintly satisfied for the first time. "Good. The test continues today."

Seoryeong picked up the staff again. Cheongmu retreated. But his gaze remained hot. The disciples' gazes had also changed. At first, they had come to see the monster from the rumors. Now it was slightly different. That child had endured. She hadn't immediately charged at Cheongmu's provocation. And she had received praise from Elder Ungak. That fact slightly altered the disciples' eyes.

Seoryeong didn't fully understand that change. But she knew the scent had shifted slightly. Curiosity mixed with wariness. Mockery decreased. She gripped the staff. Elder Ungak said, "Basic thrust again."

Seoryeong took her stance. Her legs still remembered the morning's numbness. Her hands longed for the ebony pole's weight. Her eyes wanted to turn toward Cheongmu. But now it was the staff. Basic thrust. The fight of enduring. Seoryeong drew a breath. And thrust. Whoosh. It was slightly better than before. Elder Ungak said, "Again."

Seoryeong thrust again.

The day was long. It began in Yeobeop Hall, moved through the dining hall, the training grounds, Cheongmu's provocation, then back to basic thrusts. They were strange things to call fighting. Yet strangely, her mind felt more tired than her body.

As the sun began to set, Elder Ungak finally ended today's training. "That is all."

Seoryeong set down the staff. Her arms were heavy. She had held a light staff, yet her arms felt heavy. She looked at her own arms with an uncomprehending face. Hwarin approached. "You learned a lot today."

Seoryeong said, "I wasn't hit much, but it was hard."

"That is basic training."

"Strange."

"Still, you did it."

Seoryeong thought for a moment. She had. She had listened to etiquette. Endured numb legs. Eaten meatless rice. Repeatedly thrust with a light staff. Wanted to hit Cheongmu but endured. Decided to fight tomorrow. Learned that enduring was also a fight. She nodded. "Yeah. I won."

Hwarin smiled. "Yes. Today, you won."

Those words pleased her.

On the way back to the annex, the way Cheongseong Sect disciples looked at Seoryeong differed from the morning. There was still whispering. Silver hair. Hyeol-un-pal-sik. The rumored child. But different words mixed in. "She endured Elder Ungak's class." "She didn't charge even at Cheongmu sajae's provocation." "They say she'll spar tomorrow." "Really?"

The rumors moved again. But this time, the rumors were slightly different. Not that the monster chewed up people, but that the monster had endured. Seoryeong didn't know that exactly. She only felt that the scent of the gazes had changed slightly.

When they arrived at the annex, Seoryeong immediately picked up the ebony pole resting in one corner of the courtyard. Hwarin said, "Don't swing it."

Seoryeong stopped. "Today's over, though."

"You need to let your body rest."

"Just once."

"No."

Seoryeong looked down at the ebony pole. She really wanted to swing it just once. Her hands felt strange from the light staff. She wanted to feel the ebony pole's weight again. But Hwarin had said no. Enduring was also a fight. Seoryeong slowly leaned the ebony pole against the wall. "I'll endure."

Hwarin widened her eyes slightly. Then she smiled very softly. "Well done."

Seoryeong felt slightly satisfied hearing those words. She had received praise several times today. From Elder Ungak. From Dogyeom. From Hwarin. Praise wasn't bad. She entered the room and sat down. Her legs tingled again, and her arms felt strangely heavy. But the inside of her chest was slightly quiet. Not the hot pounding before a fight, but a feeling of slowly settling.

Hwarin brought water and handed it to her. "Drink."

Seoryeong drank. It was cold. Tasteless, but good. "Am I fighting Cheongmu tomorrow?"

"If it's a formal spar, yes."

"Can I win?"

"You may try to win. Just within the rules."

"Are there many rules?"

"There are. I'll tell you tomorrow morning."

Seoryeong grew slightly serious. Fighting within rules. Not killing. Not severely injuring. Stopping if the opponent surrendered. Those kinds of things, probably. Could she do that much? Seoryeong recalled Cheongmu's face. He had said things she wanted to hit him for. But tomorrow, she could fight formally. If she endured, she could fight. She had learned that too. Hwarin saw Seoryeong's expression and said, "Tomorrow is not a day to show how strong you are."

Seoryeong looked up. "Then what?"

"It's a day to show how well you can stop."

Seoryeong frowned slightly. "Not winning?"

"Winning may also be important. But more important is where you stop when you want to win."

Seoryeong listened quietly. Stopping when she wanted to win. That was difficult. Truly difficult. The stronger the opponent, the harder it became. When excited, she wanted to go further. When the opponent retreated, she wanted to push more. When blocked, she wanted to break through. She had to stop that. Tomorrow's opponent was Cheongmu. A Cheongseong Sect disciple. Someone equivalent to a fellow disciple. She must not kill, must not severely injure, must do it within the rules. Seoryeong spoke slowly. "This is hard."

Hwarin nodded. "Yes. It is a difficult test."

"Then if I learn, I'll grow stronger?"

"You will."

That was enough. Seoryeong nodded. "I'll do it."

Night fell. Cheongseong Sect's night differed from a mountain village's. Distant footsteps of disciples returning from night training echoed, and lights in the buildings gradually dimmed. The incense scent grew fainter, and the pine scent grew stronger.

Seoryeong lay in the room. The ebony pole was within reach. The broken spear tip rested by her pillow. Today, her body was tired even before dreams came. But her mind was strangely clear. Enduring was also a fight. Those words kept circling. She had thought fighting meant hitting an opponent. Clashing with strong people. Enduring as if dying, pushing, rising again. Yet today, no one had tried to kill, and nothing resembling a proper fight had occurred, yet it had been hard. She had endured kneeling. Endured not eating meat. Endured not swinging the ebony pole. Endured not hitting Cheongmu. Endured the staff's lightness. Endured the fire rising inside herself a little. If that was also fighting, then she had fought many times today. And Hwarin had said she had won today.

Seoryeong closed her eyes. Dreams came. It was a red battlefield again. But the battlefield was slightly different. In previous dreams, she had always charged. Swinging weapons amid blood, iron, and roars, crushing enemies, advancing. But in this dream, Seoryeong was stopped. Countless soldiers stood before her. A massive halberd rested in her hands. Her body wanted to charge immediately. Blood was hot. Enemies were rushing in. But someone in the dream said, Not yet. A short phrase. Seoryeong didn't move. Enemies drew closer. Her breath grew hot. Her hands trembled. Still, she didn't move. Not yet. And at the very last moment. Now. The halberd moved. That single swing was far heavier than before. It wasn't simply rampaging with strength. It was a strike that endured, gathered, waited, then exploded. The battlefield split. Seoryeong opened her eyes at that sensation. It was still night. Moonlight shone outside the window. The weight of the halberd from the dream lingered in her palms. Seoryeong slowly exhaled. Endure, then swing. That was stronger. She felt like she understood a little. She closed her eyes again. Tomorrow, she would spar with Cheongmu. Winning was also important. But stopping was more important, they had said. Seoryeong still didn't fully understand. But she intended to try. If enduring was also a fight, then she didn't want to lose that fight either.