Blood at Dawn
The mountain was still dark at dawn. A faint mist lay over the village rooftops, and dew that had cooled overnight sparkled between the furrows of the fields. It was the hour before the roosters crowed, when people were still deep in sleep. At that hour, Jin Seoryeong stood alone in the yard. Her long silver hair was tied high, and an old spear rested in both hands. A rusty iron blade she had once received from a caravan guard was bound to the tip. It could hardly be called a proper weapon yet. But it was different from a spear carved from nothing but wood. Every swing cut through the air with a sound, and there was weight that traveled to her fingertips. She liked that weight.
Seoryeong exhaled slowly and raised the spear. Her toes pressed into the dirt. Her shoulders dropped, her waist twisted, and the spearhead stabbed into empty space. Pat. The dawn air split. She did not immediately withdraw the spear. She twisted the shaft she had thrust in, pulled it back, and swept it sideways as if to sever an opponent's neck. Or as if to hook and drag an arm. Then she brought it down in the opposite direction. Quack. The spearhead buried itself in the dirt. Soil flew up. Seoryeong pulled the spear free and reset her stance. She still was not satisfied. The movement felt broken. The weight had grown familiar in her hands, but the follow-up after each swing was sluggish. It had been the same when she fought that martial artist a few days ago. The young man had pinned her spear with nothing but his scabbard. He had struck her wrist to make her drop it and tried to break her balance. What would have happened if he had drawn his real sword?
Seoryeong imagined it for a moment. Her neck might have been cut. An arm might have been severed. Her chest might have been pierced. Yet strangely, the corner of her mouth lifted. She was not afraid. She was disappointed. She wanted to fight more. She wanted to force him to draw his real sword. She wanted to see what expression he would make if he fought with everything he had. Seoryeong moved the spear again. This time lower. Faster. The spearhead sliced through the air, the shaft spun close to her body, and her foot kicked the ground once more. Thrust, and if that missed then cut. Cut, and if blocked then hook and pull. If the pull failed, charge in with her body. No one had ever taught her these movements. Yet somewhere inside her body, the method rose naturally. Sometimes scenes from her dreams overlapped with the present. Burning ramparts. Red banners. The sound of hooves. A battlefield splattered with blood. And someone swinging a massive weapon while laughing. His face was still invisible. But she remembered the laughter. Isn't there anyone stronger? She could not tell if the words were from a dream or a memory.
Seoryeong did not stop swinging the spear. The sun began to rise slowly over the mountain ridge. Only then did the house door open. Creak. Her disheveled father stepped into the yard. He stared at his daughter for a while before pressing a hand to his forehead.
"You stayed up all night again."
Seoryeong turned her head, spear still in hand. "Slept a little."
"How long?"
"Closed my eyes and opened them."
"That is not sleeping."
"Then I did not sleep."
Her father sighed deeply. Seoryeong looked at him as if she could not understand. Her body felt fine. She was not sleepy. If anything, swinging the spear had left her refreshed.
"Do not go deep into the mountain today," her father said.
Seoryeong gave no answer. Her father's eyes narrowed.
"No answer means you are going anyway?"
"They asked for herbs."
"Who?"
"The auntie from the house below."
"There are herbs at the mountain entrance too."
"Better ones deeper in."
"You might become good food for beasts while picking those better herbs."
Seoryeong thought for a moment, then answered seriously. "The beasts have been avoiding me lately."
Her father closed his eyes. His daughter was not lying. That was the bigger problem.
"Seoryeong."
"Yeah."
"Do you really have no intention of living an ordinary life?"
"What does ordinary mean?"
Her father started to answer, then stopped. Plowing fields, eating meals, sleeping, marrying when the time came, having children, quietly growing old. That was what ordinary meant in this village. But saying those words to his daughter would be pointless. Jin Seoryeong had been at odds with ordinary since the day she was born. Her father looked at her hands for no reason. They were slender and pale, yet the palms were covered in calluses. They were not the hands of a fifteen-year-old girl.
"At least eat before you go."
"Yeah."
Seoryeong leaned the spear against the wall and went inside. Her mother had already set the table. Barley rice, soybean paste soup, mountain vegetables, and a few pieces of dried meat left from yesterday. Seoryeong sat down and began eating immediately. Her pace was not fast, but she never stopped. Her mother smiled faintly as she watched.
"You fight like a ghost, but you eat so quietly."
"Food does not run away."
"What if it did?"
"Catch it and eat it."
Her father choked on his soup. Her mother could not hold back her laughter. Seoryeong tilted her head, not understanding why they were laughing. If food ran away, of course you had to catch it. There was nothing strange about it to her.
After breakfast, Seoryeong tied a small basket to her waist for the herbs. She naturally slung the spear over her shoulder. Her mother followed her to the door and straightened her clothes.
"You really must be careful today."
"Yeah."
"Do not fight with people."
"What if they attack first?"
"Even then, try to avoid it."
"Avoiding is boring."
"We do not fight for fun."
Seoryeong paused. That was always difficult to understand. If fighting was not fun, why fight at all? She understood fighting to survive. She understood fighting to protect family. But to Seoryeong, fighting was more than that. The thrill when facing a strong opponent. The way her body awakened when death drew near. The moment blood heated, breath quickened, and everything before her eyes became clear. How could she call that boring? Unable to find an answer, Seoryeong simply nodded.
"I will try not to fight."
Her mother only half believed her. Still, she did not hold her back any longer. Seoryeong walked the village path toward the mountain. Villagers greeted her one by one.
"Seoryeong, heading to the mountain today?"
"Yeah."
"Then check the stream on your way back. Our goat broke its rope again."
"I will bring it if I see it."
"Do not drag it back unconscious like last time."
"That is easier."
"The goat trembles whenever it sees you."
"Weak."
The villagers laughed in disbelief. Seoryeong did not laugh, but she did not look displeased either. A few children followed behind her. The youngest held a small rice cake in her hand.
"Seoryeong noona."
"What."
"Eat this."
Seoryeong looked down at the cake. "Why are you giving it to me?"
"You carried our firewood yesterday."
"It looked heavy, so I carried it."
"Still, Mother said thank you."
Seoryeong stared at the cake for a moment, then accepted it. It was warm. Steam rose from the freshly steamed rice cake. She took a bite. Sweet. Delicious.
"Not bad."
The child's face brightened. "Really?"
"Yeah."
"I will give you more!"
"Yeah."
Seoryeong ate the cake as she entered the mountain path. The children only followed as far as the entrance. Going deeper would earn them a scolding from the adults. Seoryeong glanced back once at the waving children, then disappeared into the forest.
The mountain was no different from yesterday. Sunlight fractured through the leaves, and the damp scent of soil rose from beneath her feet. Seoryeong followed the familiar trail. Her footsteps made almost no sound. She had walked these paths for a long time. After a short while, a small fox appeared between the bushes. It was the red-furred young fox that had been following her for the past few days. Seoryeong looked down at it.
"You came again."
The fox wagged its tail. Seoryeong took a piece of dried meat from her waist and tossed it. The fox snatched it up.
"I thought you would not follow if there was no food."
The fox chewed without understanding. Seoryeong walked on without much thought. The fox followed behind.
She dug up a few herb roots near the mountain entrance. That was what the auntie from below had asked for. She already knew the leaf shape and scent. As Seoryeong placed the herbs in her basket, she suddenly stopped. She smelled blood. Very faint. Not beast blood. Human blood.
Seoryeong's eyes darkened slightly. She lowered her body, checked the wind direction, and looked for broken branches. There were footprints too. Three people. No, more. A dragged mark. A trail of dripping blood. Someone had fled while injured. Seoryeong considered setting the basket down, then left it tied to her waist and moved on. The herbs were important, but the scent of blood bothered her more.
Deeper into the forest, she heard a groan.
"Ugh…… urgh……"
A man lay collapsed beneath a large tree. His blue robes were stained with blood and dirt, and the scabbard at his waist was broken. A deep wound marked his side. Seoryeong recognized him. He was one of the martial artists who had visited the village a few days ago. The man she had beaten at arm wrestling. She did not remember his name. Seoryeong crouched beside him.
"Still alive?"
The man opened his eyes with difficulty. He stared at Seoryeong blankly at first, then widened his eyes.
"You are…… that village's……"
"Jin Seoryeong."
"Right…… Jin Seoryeong……"
The man gasped for breath. Blood stained his lips. Seoryeong looked at the wound. "You got cut badly."
"Bandits…… no, they are not ordinary bandits…… They know martial arts……"
"Are they strong?"
The man wore a dumbfounded expression despite his pain. "Is that your first question……"
"My first question was whether you were alive."
"That is not what matters…… They took my senior……"
"The one with the scabbard from a few days ago?"
The man's face hardened. "Yes. Senior Cheongyu."
Seoryeong recalled the young man. The one she had fought beneath the moonlight. The one who had pinned her spear without drawing his sword. He was strong. She still felt disappointed about him. That person had been taken. Seoryeong's eyes gleamed faintly.
"Are they stronger than him?"
"What…… this is not the time to ask that……"
"It is important."
The man gritted his teeth. "Individually they are weaker than my senior. But there are many of them, and they use cowardly methods. They even used poison."
"Poison."
Seoryeong repeated the word quietly. She disliked poison. It made fighting boring. It was not about clashing with strength, but about secretly weakening someone. It did not suit her taste.
"How many?"
"I saw seven…… There might be more hiding……"
"Seven."
The corner of Seoryeong's mouth lifted slightly. The man felt a chill down his spine at that expression. This girl was not afraid. She was anticipating it.
"You…… You are not thinking of going, are you?"
"Yeah."
"Are you insane! You will die if you go alone!"
Seoryeong tilted her head. "I just have to not die."
"You think it is that easy!"
"It will be difficult."
Seoryeong adjusted her grip on the spear. "That is why it is good."
The man was speechless. Seoryeong roughly examined the man's side. He had lost a lot of blood, but it was not immediately fatal. She took an herb from her basket and crushed it. It was the same herb her mother used on wounds. Seoryeong pressed it firmly against the man's injury. He swallowed a scream.
"Kugh!"
"Endure it."
"Your…… hands are too rough……"
"I am saving you."
"I thought you were killing me……"
Seoryeong removed the man's belt and tied the wound tightly. Her movements were clumsy, but effective. The bleeding slowed.
"Stay here."
"Wait…… You cannot go alone……"
"Can you come with me?"
The man tried to stand but immediately collapsed. His lips turned white. Seoryeong looked at him and said, "No."
"……"
"Then I will go alone."
"Jin Seoryeong!" the man called desperately.
Seoryeong only turned her head.
"If you can save my senior, please do. But do not push yourself. If you die, it means nothing."
Seoryeong thought for a moment. "If it looks like I will die, I will run."
"Really?"
"Probably."
"Do not say probably!"
Seoryeong was already walking into the forest. When the small fox tried to follow, she blocked it with her hand.
"You stay here."
The fox whined.
"You are weak."
The fox did not understand, but seemed to sense the mood and stopped. Seoryeong followed the scent of blood and footprints deeper into the mountain. The forest grew darker. The trees were dense, and the wind barely reached inside. Even the sounds of beasts disappeared. Instead, human traces increased. Broken branches. Trampled grass. Scraps of cloth on the ground. And occasional bloodstains. Seoryeong moved quietly. Normally she might have walked openly. But this time her opponents were people. People were different from beasts. Beasts attacked with teeth and claws. But people hid, deceived, and waited. Seoryeong had seen such humans in the mountain several times. She also knew that people were more persistent than weak beasts. Seoryeong learned quickly. Especially when it came to fighting, she never forgot after experiencing it once.
How long had she walked? Low voices reached her ears.
"That bastard is probably dead by now."
"He bled that much. If he is still alive, he is not human."
"Still, we should have checked."
"Capturing one Cheongseong Sect guy is enough. With his ransom we can live well for a while."
Seoryeong hid behind a tree and looked toward the voices. It was a small clearing. Several old hunter's huts stood there, and men were gathered in front of them. Their clothing varied, but all carried weapons. Swords. Axes. Spears. And bows. Some looked like ordinary bandits, but others moved lightly with sharp fingertips. Martial artists. Seoryeong counted with her eyes. One. Two. Three. Nine visible in the clearing. More than the man had said. The corner of Seoryeong's mouth lifted slightly. Good. More than expected. And tied to the central pillar of the largest hut was the young man. The martial artist she had fought a few days ago. The one called Cheongyu. He sat with his head lowered. Blood stained his lips, and there were marks where something like poisoned needles had pierced his shoulder. But he was alive. Seoryeong looked at him and thought, As expected, he is strong. Even captured, his breathing was steady. He had many wounds, but his eyes were not dead.
At that moment, one bandit grabbed Cheongyu by the hair and lifted his head.
"Hey, young master of Cheongseong Sect. Your sect will pay a lot, right?"
Cheongyu did not answer. The bandit slapped his cheek. Smack!
"Open your eyes properly. You still think you are something special?"
Cheongyu slowly opened his eyes. Then he spoke quietly. "You will all die soon."
The bandits laughed.
"Who is going to kill us?"
"Your junior? That guy probably bled out in the forest."
"Or you? A guy who cannot even circulate his inner energy because of poison?"
Cheongyu closed his eyes. At that moment, Seoryeong adjusted her grip on the spear. Should she charge in right away? No. There were two archers. She had to deal with them first. The spearman would be a nuisance from a distance. She would handle the swordsmen up close. The axeman looked strong but slow. It was strange how naturally she was thinking this way. In the past she would have just charged in. But now she saw things differently. Where the opponents stood. Who would move first. Who she needed to take down first. Fighting was fun after all. There was so much to think about.
Seoryeong picked up a small stone from the ground and threw it toward the archers. Thud. The stone struck one archer's forehead.
"Agh!"
The archer staggered backward. All eyes turned toward the sound. At that moment, Seoryeong burst forward. Pat. Her silver hair flashed between the trees. The nearest spearman widened his eyes.
"What the—!"
Before he could finish, Seoryeong's spearhead entered his throat. Puk. Blood sprayed. Seoryeong twisted the spear without pulling it out. The man's body collapsed. She kicked the falling body away with her foot and yanked the spear free. First one. The sensation was different from beasts. Flesh was softer, screams clearer. But Seoryeong did not stop.
The bandits shouted belatedly.
"Ambush!"
"What is that girl!"
"Kill her!"
One archer nocked an arrow. Seoryeong kicked off the ground and leaped sideways. The arrow grazed where she had been standing. She kicked the fallen spearman's corpse toward the archer. For a moment the archer lost sight of her. Seoryeong closed the gap in that opening. It was short. Too short. Before the archer could draw his sword, the spear shaft struck his chin. Thud! Teeth flew. Seoryeong followed up by thrusting the spearhead upward from below. The blade tore through his chest. The archer coughed blood and collapsed. Second.
Seoryeong's eyes glowed red. One bandit charged from behind, sword raised high. Seoryeong did not turn around. She only listened to the footsteps and lowered her body. The sword passed over her head. Seoryeong thrust the spear shaft backward. Thud! The butt of the spear struck the bandit's stomach. As the man doubled over, Seoryeong spun and kicked his knee. Crack. The bandit screamed.
"Kuaaaagh!"
Seoryeong pressed the spearhead against his throat and applied short, sharp force. Third.
The air around them changed. At first the bandits had been angry. Of course they were, since a single girl had suddenly appeared and killed their comrades. But when three fell in an instant, their expressions shifted. Anger turned to caution. Caution slowly began to shift toward fear. Seoryeong liked that change. The moment an opponent's eyes wavered. The moment they realized death was near. That was when fighting became clearest.
"What kind of bitch are you!"
The scarred man with the axe stepped forward. He was large. A head taller than the others, with thick forearms. A long scar ran across his face. His presence was the most ferocious. Seoryeong looked at him and smiled faintly.
"You seem a bit strong?"
The scarred man's face twisted. "This crazy bitch!"
He swung his axe. The air split with heavy force. Seoryeong did not block head-on. She sidestepped and thrust her spearhead toward his wrist. But the man twisted his wrist and avoided it. His reaction was faster than expected. The axe came down again. Seoryeong deflected it with the spear shaft. Quack! The shaft shook violently. Her wrist tingled. The corner of Seoryeong's mouth rose higher. Strong. At least much stronger than the others.
"Good."
Seoryeong spoke quietly. The scarred man felt a chill. This girl was enjoying herself. She had killed three of his comrades and was now in a situation where one axe blow could split her body, yet she was genuinely smiling.
"Crazy monster……"
"Try more."
"Die!"
Axe and spear clashed. Bang! This time Seoryeong was pushed backward. Her feet scraped the dirt. She was losing in raw power. But Seoryeong was delighted. It had been a long time. The feeling of being pushed by strength. Palms tingling, arms trembling, the sense that one wrong choice would mean death. Seoryeong's eyes grew brighter. She ducked low. She held the spear short. Instead of maintaining distance with a long weapon, she moved inward. The scarred man was startled.
"What?"
Seoryeong's shoulder slammed into his chest. It was an impact hard to believe from such a small body. The scarred man took half a step back. In that moment Seoryeong hooked her spear shaft around his axe handle and pulled. The axe twisted. The scarred man resisted with strength. Seoryeong pushed instead of pulling. When force came from the unexpected direction, the man's center wavered. Seoryeong kicked his knee in that opening. Thud! The man gritted his teeth but did not fall. Instead, he tried to grab Seoryeong's nape with his left hand. Seoryeong did not dodge. The man's hand seized her shoulder. Flesh pressed. It hurt. But this was exactly the right distance. Seoryeong smiled. Her fangs showed. The man's face hardened. Seoryeong lowered her spearhead, then thrust it upward in a short motion. Puk. The spear blade entered beneath the man's armpit. An opening without armor. The man swallowed his breath. Seoryeong did not stop there. She twisted the shaft. The man's body convulsed.
"You……"
"That was fun."
Seoryeong whispered. Then she pulled the spear free. The scarred man collapsed. Fourth.
The clearing fell silent. The remaining bandits stepped back. For the first time, someone tried to flee. Seoryeong felt slightly disappointed at the sight.
"Already?"
The fleeing bandit ran into the forest. Seoryeong threw her spear. Whoosh. The spear cut through the air. Puk! It buried itself in the center of the bandit's back. He fell forward. Fifth.
Seoryeong walked over slowly and retrieved her spear. A blade approached from behind. She tilted her head slightly. The sword cut a few strands of her hair. Seoryeong spun and drove her elbow into the opponent's chin. Thud. His head snapped back. Immediately the spear shaft struck his neck. Crack. Sixth.
Three remained. One of them pointed his sword at Cheongyu.
"Stop! One more step and I will cut this guy's throat!"
Seoryeong stopped walking. Cheongyu raised his head and looked at her. Surprise flashed in his eyes. He had not expected this child to come alone. Nor had he expected her to kill her way this far. The bandit smiled crookedly when Seoryeong stopped.
"See, now we can talk. Put down the spear."
Seoryeong looked at Cheongyu. Cheongyu shook his head slightly. He meant not to put it down. The bandit pressed the sword closer. A red line appeared on Cheongyu's neck.
"Put it down!"
Seoryeong thought for a moment. This was a bit annoying. She did not like using people as shields. They did not clash head-on. Like poison. A cowardly method. Seoryeong's eyes grew cold. She pretended to slowly lower her spear. The bandit's gaze followed the spearhead. At that exact moment, Seoryeong kicked dirt with her foot. Dust covered the bandit's face.
"Kuh!"
The bandit closed his eyes. Seoryeong was already charging. She grabbed the spear again and ducked low. Before the sword could cut Cheongyu's throat, the spearhead pierced the bandit's wrist. Puk. The sword fell. Cheongyu twisted and rolled backward. Seoryeong kicked the bandit's chest. He fell backward. She stopped the spearhead in front of his throat.
"I hate hiding behind people."
The bandit ground his teeth. "Monster bitch……"
"I hear that a lot."
The spearhead descended. Seventh.
The remaining two had already lost their will to fight. One dropped his sword and raised both hands. The other backed away, tripped on a rock, and fell. Seoryeong looked at them. One was completely terrified. The other tried to pull something from his waist. A small pouch. It might be poison powder. Seoryeong threw her spear without hesitation. Puk. The man reaching for the pouch collapsed. Eighth.
The last bandit, hands raised, sank to the ground.
"Spare me…… spare me……"
Seoryeong approached him. The bandit trembled violently.
"I will never do it again…… I will leave the mountain…… Please……"
Seoryeong looked down at him. Then she asked, "Are you strong?"
"N-no…… I am weak…… I am weak……"
"You look it."
Seoryeong withdrew her spear. Relief spread across the bandit's face. But the next moment Cheongyu spoke quietly.
"You cannot leave him alive."
Seoryeong turned her head. Cheongyu, still tied to the pillar, was breathing heavily.
"These are men who robbed villages and killed people. If you let him go, he will attack another village."
The bandit wailed. "That is a lie! I did not kill anyone!"
Cheongyu's eyes were cold. "The blood on your sword has not even dried yet."
Seoryeong looked at the bandit's sword. There really was blood on it. The scent of human blood. Seoryeong was silent for a while. She did not enjoy killing. She liked fighting. Clashing with strong opponents was good. An opponent who had already lost their will and dropped their weapon was boring. But simply letting him go felt wrong too. If you left a dog that bit a village child's puppy, it would bite again. Was it the same for someone who had killed people? Seoryeong understood it that way.
"Then it cannot be helped."
The bandit's face turned white. "W-wait……"
Seoryeong's spear moved briefly. Ninth.
The clearing fell silent. The scent of blood was thick. Seoryeong exhaled. It had not taken as long as expected. But her body was quite heated. Her arms tingled and her shoulders felt heavy. The impact from clashing with the scarred man remained. Not bad. Seoryeong approached Cheongyu.
"Still alive?"
Cheongyu looked up at her. Complex emotions flickered in his eyes. Surprise. Caution. And a hint of fear.
"……You killed them all."
"Yeah."
"Alone."
"Yeah."
"Without learning martial arts?"
"Yeah."
Cheongyu let out a hollow laugh. "That makes no sense."
Seoryeong cut the ropes binding him with her spear blade. Cheongyu's body leaned forward. Seoryeong did not catch him. Cheongyu supported himself. She liked that. As expected, he was strong.
"You said you were poisoned."
"Yes. My inner energy is not circulating properly."
"So you are weak right now?"
"Considerably."
"Disappointing."
Cheongyu looked at her. "You really are strange."
"I hear that a lot."
"Does it not bother you?"
"Why?"
"Being called strange is often not a compliment."
Seoryeong thought for a moment, then shook her head. "It is not wrong, though."
Cheongyu was speechless again. Seoryeong searched the bandits' huts. She found sacks of grain, stolen cloth, several silver coins, a small medicine bottle, and the belongings that had been tied up. Cheongyu's eyes hardened as he looked at some of them.
"These are things taken from nearby villages."
"Is there anything from our village?"
"It seems they took them from passing caravans and herb gatherers."
Seoryeong picked up the pouch of silver coins. It was quite heavy. "Can I take this?"
Cheongyu frowned. "You should return it to the original owners."
"What if I do not know them?"
"It would be right to hand it over to the authorities or a sect."
"Complicated."
Seoryeong put the pouch back down. Then she found dried meat and liquor bottles the bandits had hidden. Her eyes brightened slightly.
"What about this?"
Cheongyu was silent for a moment. "That much…… should be fine to take."
Seoryeong packed the dried meat. She smelled the liquor bottle and frowned. "Strange smell."
"It is alcohol."
"Is it good?"
"Depends on the person."
Seoryeong was about to put the bottle down, then stopped. She remembered the village adults drinking and laughing. People drunk on alcohol talked more than usual. Her mother had told her to stay away from alcohol, but she was a little curious. Seoryeong packed one small bottle. Cheongyu felt an ominous premonition watching her.
"You should not drink alcohol."
"Why?"
"You are young."
"Just a little."
"That little is the problem."
Seoryeong did not answer and put the bottle in her basket. Cheongyu sighed but had no strength to stop her. They began descending the mountain. Cheongyu walked slowly because of the poison. Seoryeong matched his pace at first, then grew impatient.
"Want a piggyback?"
Cheongyu's face hardened. "I am fine."
"Why are you suddenly speaking formally?"
"It is a matter of pride."
"It would be more comfortable."
"Comfort and pride are separate."
Seoryeong did not understand. Still, she did not ask further. After walking for a while, they met the martial artist who had been collapsed earlier. He was still sitting against the tree. The fox was curled up beside him. The man widened his eyes when he saw Cheongyu.
"Senior!"
Cheongyu smiled faintly. "You were alive, Myeongho."
"Senior, you…… no, how……"
The man called Myeongho looked at Seoryeong. Blood stained her clothes. Dried blood clung to her spearhead. Myeongho understood the situation and his face hardened.
"Surely not……"
Cheongyu nodded. "That child saved us."
Myeongho's mouth fell open. "Alone?"
"Alone."
Myeongho stared at Seoryeong. Seoryeong was chewing dried meat. She looked so calm that it was hard to believe she had just killed nine bandits. When her eyes met Myeongho's, she held out a piece of meat.
"Want some?"
Myeongho accepted it blankly. "……Thank you."
Seoryeong tossed one to the fox as well. The fox snatched it up immediately. Cheongyu felt a strange sensation watching this. The girl who had been laughing in a storm of blood moments ago was now sharing meat with a fox. The gap was too wide. She seemed like a monster, yet also like an ordinary mountain village child. But Cheongyu knew neither was fake. Both were Jin Seoryeong.
By the time they reached the village, the sun was tilting westward. Seoryeong's parents were already in an uproar. Her mother ran toward her the moment she saw her at the village entrance.
"Jin Seoryeong!"
Seoryeong flinched. That voice was scarier than the bandits. Her mother turned pale when she saw the blood on her daughter's clothes.
"Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?"
"Not much of my blood."
"Then whose blood is it!"
"Bandits."
Her mother staggered for a moment. Her father quickly supported her. The villagers murmured. Cheongyu and Myeongho stepped forward. Cheongyu bowed politely.
"We owe our lives to your daughter. We are disciples of the Cheongseong Sect. We were attacked by vicious men hiding in the mountains, but Miss Jin saved us."
All eyes turned to Seoryeong. She looked slightly uncomfortable and turned her head. Being praised was harder than fighting. Her mother was speechless for a while, then finally pulled Seoryeong into a tight embrace.
"You really…… burn everyone's insides……"
Seoryeong stayed still in her mother's arms. Between the scent of blood and herbs, a familiar smell rose. The smell of home. The smell of her mother. Seoryeong spoke quietly. "I did not die."
"Is that something to brag about?"
"Yeah."
Her mother almost laughed while crying. Then she slapped Seoryeong's back hard. Smack.
"Ow."
"So you do feel pain."
"A little."
The village grew noisy again that night. The Cheongseong Sect disciples explained the bandits' identities and the damage they had caused. The villagers were shocked and angry. It was revealed that the bandits had been robbing caravans and herb gatherers passing through the nearby mountain paths. If not for Seoryeong, the village might have been attacked someday. The village elders praised Seoryeong. But her mother's face remained terrifying until the end. Seoryeong ate two bowls of dinner and went to her room. Her body felt strangely tired. It was not only because of the fight with the bandits. The sensation of killing people still lingered at her fingertips. It was different from beasts. People opened their eyes wide just before dying. They also made sounds. They begged to be spared. That felt a little strange. Seoryeong did not feel much emotion at the words "spare me." But she was not completely indifferent either. She looked down at her palms. The blood had been washed away, but the smell seemed to remain.
At that moment, the door opened. Her mother entered. She held a warm wet towel. Without a word, her mother wiped Seoryeong's hands. Seoryeong stayed still.
"Were you scared?" her mother asked.
Seoryeong thought for a moment, then shook her head. "No."
"Then were you sad?"
"I do not know."
Her mother's hand stopped. Seoryeong spoke honestly. "It felt good while fighting. There were strong people, and many things to think about. But the person begging to be spared at the end was boring."
Her mother looked at her daughter. Seoryeong's expression was blank. But it was not a lie. She was truly organizing her emotions. "I did not like killing," Seoryeong added. "I liked fighting."
Her mother was silent for a very long time. Then she carefully stroked Seoryeong's hair.
"Do not forget that difference."
"Hm?"
"You might not be able to help liking to fight. But you must not come to like killing."
Seoryeong mulled over her mother's words. Fighting and killing. Similar but different. Seoryeong did not fully understand it. But because her mother had spoken with a sad face, she decided to remember.
"Yeah. I will not forget."
Her mother smiled faintly. "Good. Then that is enough."
That night, Seoryeong secretly took out the small liquor bottle she had brought from the bandit hut. She had not actually intended to drink it. She was just curious. When she opened the lid, a strong smell rose. Seoryeong frowned.
"Why do people drink this?"
But curiosity won. She brought it to her lips for a very small sip. It was strong. Her throat burned. A bitter taste rose. Seoryeong narrowed her eyes. It did not taste good. But strangely, her body grew warm. She took another sip. And another. A little later, Seoryeong was lying face down on the floor. Her eyes were half-glazed, her cheeks flushed. Her mind was blank. Thoughts of grabbing her spear or going to the mountain grew hazy. The floor just felt cool. It was nice.
"Mmm……"
A small sound escaped her lips. Her father's voice came from outside the door.
"Seoryeong, are you asleep?"
No answer. Her father opened the door. Then he found his daughter melted on the floor with a liquor bottle beside her.
"……"
Her father quietly closed the door. A moment later he opened it again. Reality had not changed.
"Honey."
Her mother came running. Her expression hardened the moment she saw the scene.
"Jin Seoryeong."
Seoryeong blinked slowly with her cheek pressed to the floor. "Yeah……"
"Did you drink alcohol?"
"A little……"
"How much?"
Seoryeong looked at the empty bottle. Then she said dazedly, "It became a little more……"
Her father finally burst into laughter. Her mother hit his back hard. Smack.
"How can you laugh?"
"No, it is just…… A kid who killed nine bandits getting like this from one bottle of alcohol……"
"You be quiet too."
Seoryeong closed her eyes listening to their voices. The world spun slightly. But it did not feel bad. Her body was heavy, her head empty, and everything felt a little distant. Strangely comfortable. She muttered, "Alcohol…… is strong……"
Her father laughed again and got hit once more by her mother.
The next morning, Seoryeong overslept for the first time. She only opened her eyes when the sun was high in the sky. Her head throbbed. Her mouth was dry. Her body felt heavy and her stomach strange. Seoryeong stared at the ceiling for a long time under the blanket. Then she muttered quietly, "Alcohol is strong."
Her father's suppressed laughter came from outside the door. Her mother brought cool water and porridge.
"Never drink secretly again."
"Yeah."
"Really?"
Seoryeong thought for a moment. Her mother's eyes narrowed.
"Jin Seoryeong."
"Really."
"Why did you think about it?"
"It does not taste good, but it is strange."
Her mother sighed. But Seoryeong was sincere. Alcohol was strange. It broke down the body in a completely different way from fighting a strong opponent. You could not block it with a spear, could not crush it with strength, and could not dodge it by moving fast. The feeling of your own body not obeying your will. Seoryeong found that strangely interesting. Of course, if she drank again her mother would scold her. That was scarier than the bandits.
In the afternoon, Cheongyu and Myeongho came to visit. Both were in better condition after receiving emergency treatment from the village doctor. Cheongyu's face was still pale, but he could walk. He bowed respectfully to Seoryeong.
"I owe you my life."
Seoryeong, holding a porridge bowl, nodded. "Yeah."
Myeongho smiled awkwardly beside him. "Usually people say something like 'it was nothing' here, right?"
"It was nothing, though."
Myeongho was speechless. Cheongyu chuckled. "A very Jin Seoryeong-like answer."
Seoryeong ate a spoonful of porridge. "When are you leaving?"
"It will take a few days."
"Then can we fight in a few days?"
Myeongho's eyes widened. "Is that what you say to someone who saved your life?"
"Since I saved you, you should fight me once, right?"
"Your logic is strange!"
Cheongyu looked at Seoryeong quietly. Then he said, "I must return to my sect soon. I need to report this incident, so I cannot stay long."
Seoryeong's expression turned slightly sullen. "Disappointing."
"However," Cheongyu's eyes grew serious. "Are you thinking of entering the murim?"
The room fell silent. Seoryeong stopped her spoon. Her mother and father outside the door held their breath. Cheongyu continued.
"Your talent should not be buried in this mountain village. But it is dangerous. Both for you and for those around you."
"There are many strong people in the murim, right?"
"There are."
"Stronger than you too?"
Cheongyu did not hesitate. "Many."
Seoryeong's eyes sparkled. That answer alone was enough. Cheongyu saw that expression and wondered if he had made a mistake. He should have told her not to come out. He should have stopped her. But at the same time, he knew. This child would eventually descend the mountain someday. She was not the kind of child who would stop just because someone told her to. If so, perhaps it would be better to show her the proper path.
"I am not suggesting you come to my sect," Cheongyu said. "You would not suit the Cheongseong Sect."
"Why?"
"We have many rules."
"Annoying."
"I thought so."
Cheongyu took out a small wooden plaque from his robe. It was a plaque engraved with the Cheongseong Sect's symbol.
"If you ever enter the murim someday, show this at an inn near Cheongseong Mountain. At the very least, it will prove that you subjugated bandits and saved us."
Seoryeong accepted the plaque. It was small and solid. "Will strong people come if I have this?"
"No."
"Disappointing."
"Instead, unnecessary misunderstandings will decrease."
"Misunderstandings?"
"The misunderstanding that you are just a monster who kills people on the road."
Seoryeong thought for a moment. "That is a misunderstanding, though."
Myeongho muttered quietly, "It does not seem entirely wrong……"
Seoryeong looked at him. Myeongho immediately shut his mouth.
A few days later, Cheongyu and Myeongho left the village. Before departing, they deeply thanked Seoryeong's parents. They also explained the bandits' location and how to handle them to the villagers. They decided to return the stolen goods to their owners as much as possible. Seoryeong saw them off at the village entrance. Before mounting his horse, Cheongyu looked at her.
"Jin Seoryeong."
"Yeah."
"If you enter the murim, many people will fear you."
"Why?"
"You like fighting too much."
"Yeah."
"That can be an advantage, but it can also become a disaster."
Seoryeong fiddled with the plaque as she listened. Disaster. It was not an unfamiliar word. Villagers sometimes said it jokingly. They said Seoryeong was a disaster to the beasts when she went to the mountain. But Cheongyu's words were a little different. He was sincerely warning her. Seoryeong nodded.
"I will remember."
Cheongyu looked at her for a moment, then smiled faintly. "You really will only remember, I suppose."
"Yeah."
"Still, that is fine."
The horse moved. Cheongyu and Myeongho disappeared beyond the mountain path. Seoryeong stood until they were out of sight. Her heart beat strangely. The murim. That word no longer felt distant. It lay beyond the path Cheongyu had taken. Strong people. Strange weapons. Sects and grudges. And opponents stronger than herself. Seoryeong slowly smiled.
That night, she dreamed again. A red battlefield. Black armor. Banners falling, horses screaming, countless soldiers fleeing. In the center stood someone. A man holding a massive halberd. He was covered in blood and laughing. This time it was a little clearer. His face was still blurry, but his eyes were visible. Those eyes resembled Seoryeong's. Eyes searching for the strong. Eyes longing for an opponent to clash with. The man turned his head. It was as if he was looking at Seoryeong. Then he spoke.
"The world is vast."
Seoryeong looked at him in the dream. The man smiled.
"So find someone stronger."
The dream scattered. Seoryeong opened her eyes. It was dawn. Faint light came through the window. Her body was still a little heavy, but her mind was clear. She rose from her spot. She looked at the spear leaning against the wall. An old spear. An insufficient weapon. But the only weapon she had now. Seoryeong grasped it in her hand. She went out to the yard. Wind blew. Silver hair flowed over her shoulders. Seoryeong held the spear and slowly took her first stance. Thrust. Pull. Hook. Break. The bandits' movements came to mind. The scarred man's axe came to mind. Cheongyu's scabbard came to mind. The halberd of the man in her dream came to mind. All of it mixed together and engraved itself inside her body. Seoryeong smiled.
The village was still asleep. The murim still did not know her. But the mountain knew. The beasts knew. And now the two disciples of the Cheongseong Sect knew as well. The name Jin Seoryeong. The girl who loved fighting, longed for the strong, and smiled even amid the scent of blood. She had not yet left the village. She had not yet reached the threshold of the murim. Yet a small bloody wind was already blowing. Seoryeong swung her spear widely. The dawn air split. Her red eyes looked beyond the mountain. It is over there. Strong people. Fun fights. Battlefields she had not yet met. Seoryeong muttered quietly, "I will go soon."
And she swung the spear again. This time faster than before. More fiercely. And a little more joyfully. That dawn, no one in the remote rural village knew that the girl they were raising would one day become a name that shook the entire murim. That she would become an existence that sought out the strong regardless of orthodox or unorthodox, dragging blood, rumors, and war wherever she went. That when she smiled, death would come to someone. That when she raised her spear, long-dormant battlefields would open their eyes again. No one knew yet. Only Jin Seoryeong faintly sensed it. That her path did not end in the furrows below the mountain. That the spear in her hand would one day break many more things. And that she did not fear any of it in the slightest. She smiled. Her small, pointed fangs faintly showed beneath the dawn light. The murim was still peaceful. But Jin Seoryeong was already dreaming of war.