Martial Arts (4): Beneath the Endless Sky
"……."
Paeng Soso shuffled into the upper seats like a drenched puppy, utterly deflated. I'd planned to watch the remaining matches since there were still other participants left, but now wasn't the time. I hadn't expected her to look so downcast. Come to think of it, she'd said she trained alone after the initial lessons. This might be her first real defeat against someone her age, which would explain the gloom.
Anyway, I was just about to stand and comfort her when...
Paeng Ojin must've had the same idea, rising from his seat first and spreading his arms wide.
"Good work, Soso!"
He strode forward, clearly intending to scoop her up in a hug. But—
Swish swish—
With smooth, fluid motion, Paeng Soso dodged his arms and wrapped hers around my waist instead.
"Soso...?"
...Father-in-law's gonna cry. At least humor him a little.
Paeng Ojin wore a deeply hurt expression, but Paeng Soso ignored it completely, resting her chin on my shoulder and starting to whine.
"I lost, Jin-gga."
"Yeah."
"Lost perfectly."
"Sure seemed like it."
Leaning into me fully like she was hanging on, Paeng Soso rubbed her cheek against mine.
"None of my attacks landed... I just stupidly left myself wide open..."
"It wasn't that you were bad, Soso—the opponent was just that good. Hell, I lose to you every time we spar."
I patted her back as I said it, and suddenly the arms around my waist tightened firmly—but not painfully. Just enough to pin me in place without letting me move freely. Her grip was perfectly calibrated.
I flinched, wondering if I'd said something wrong, but instead of getting mad, she whispered slyly right in my ear.
"So... comfort me."
"Huh?"
"Whisper sweet nothings... play with me... feed me something tasty... and tonight... you know, right?"
"Uh... yeah..."
Wait, that was the goal? I nodded awkwardly, and she giggled, finally releasing me. Sticking out her tongue just a bit, her smile showed no trace of gloom—in fact, she looked downright cheerful.
Still, better safe than sorry. I had to ask once more.
"You good now?"
"What? You think I'd mope just because I lost once?"
"...A little?"
I tilted my head, and she stroked my hair like I was a good boy.
"Thanks for worrying. But you haven't forgotten how we first met, right?"
"First time... oh."
Yeah, she was surrounded by bandits in a pretty dicey spot. Later I heard she'd charged in assuming they were just pushovers and fell right into a trap.
"I was plenty depressed that day already. This is just me not being good enough yet—whether it's resolve, prep, or all the time I've put in."
"If you see it that way, that's a relief."
Seeing the reckless runaway girl from our first meeting grown this composed gave me a strangely bittersweet feeling.
"Ah! Jin-gga! You just looked at me with the same eyes as Dad, didn't you?"
"What kind of eyes would those be?"
"The 'shocked at my little girl's growth' look!"
How'd she know? Was Paeng Soso getting as good as Hong Yeonhwa at reading my mind from a glance?
Lost in that thought, she suddenly pinched my nose and tugged.
"Strictly speaking, aren't you the baby of the group, Jin-gga? You said you just turned twenty this year... right?"
"Righhhht."
My voice came out all nasal, and she grinned mischievously, flicking the tip of my nose with her finger.
"No way! So you've been acting all mature this whole time, but you're actually younger than me?!"
"...Weren't you twenty-one, Soso?"
"Spot on! And 'you'? I'm older, so it's gotta be 'noona.' Say it: noo-na."
"......"
I clamped my mouth shut, but now she was poking my cheeks, sides, even my back and nape, nagging relentlessly.
"Come on, just once? Pleeease? Pretty please?"
In my past life, I'd been a bit older than her when I died, so that felt... weird.
"If I talk casually to Yeonhwa but call you 'noona,' doesn't that make you older than her by default?"
"Ah, yeah... that'd be awkward."
She backed off instantly, looking as flustered as I had moments ago. Hong Yeonhwa had once teared up and charged in demanding to know what that meant, but it wasn't a big deal.
Anyway, after spending the day comforting her just like she wanted, we amped up training a notch harder than usual. Using what Hong Yeonhwa observed and Paeng Soso experienced firsthand, we added drills tailored to counter the Cangqiong Wuya Sword Art.
...Still, I didn't feel confident I'd win.
But as Paeng Ojin said, victory matters, but giving your all is just as crucial—especially in the righteous sects. With everyone already side-eyeing how an average guy like me ended up with wives like Hong Yeonhwa and Paeng Soso, I couldn't afford to look sloppy here.
In other words, this was pure image defense.
Or so I'd thought.
Rooooaaar—————!
The crowd's cheers were even wilder than during the qualifiers—practically deafening. Most were just hyped to see Namgung Hyeok crush me spectacularly, though.
Well... Namgung Hyeok looked the part even to clueless commoners, so it was natural they'd root for him.
Not that I was intimidated by the atmosphere. All I needed were those two up there.
As I climbed onto the arena and glanced at the upper seats, I saw Paeng Soso waving happily—and Hong Yeonhwa riding piggyback on her shoulders.
They didn't have to go that far; I knew exactly where they were, and they stood out fine...
I chuckled and stopped a bit short of center stage. Namgung Hyeok, already there with his usual stoic face, bowed first—impossible to read his thoughts.
"I'll learn from you."
"Ah. Please go easy."
We exchanged formalities, and soon the match gong rang.
Tang!
I leaned forward and kicked off the ground. Muscles reinforced by the Martial Spirit Divine Art exploded with force, propelling me as I swung my sword mid-leap.
Clang!
Namgung Hyeok deflected my near-ambush without a twitch. Of course—I hadn't expected it to land. This was just the opener.
Even deflected, momentum was momentum. I kept flowing seamlessly: a thrust from low right to center.
It bounced upward. Fine—vertical overhead smash.
His sword, slicing in like the wind, shoved mine aside. Pivot to Horizontal Small Heaven Army, aiming for his flank.
His counter crashed down like lightning, batting my blade away. My stance crumbled inevitably.
But resetting here would just invite disaster—he wouldn't miss the opening. Instead, step forward.
I lacked speed or feints to fool the eye, but the Eight Directions Step excelled at directional shifts. No frills, just flawless basics: move any direction from any stance.
That was enough. Twisting my upper body to evade while my legs solidly shifted to his right flank.
Follow-up diagonal slash from upper right.
Aiming for the blind spot behind his shoulder—my ace in the hole.
Krunch.
But it didn't connect. His sword curved like a cloud, blocking and entwining mine, shoving hard.
Instinct screamed I'd be pushed into endless defense if I yielded, so I forced strength into my body to hold.
"Hup...!"
Unexpected? His perpetually stoic eyes widened slightly.
Naturally—that strike had targeted his power's weak point precisely. Unless you had my brute strength, anyone would've crumpled.
...A chance?
I whipped my sword at the opening, but it bounced off again.
"......"
"Tch..."
I swallowed pointless embarrassment under his blank stare and raised my sword anew.
What followed mirrored Paeng Soso's bout. Sword auras clashed, grinding each other down or exploding apart with booms.
I poured everything I knew; he silently endured, countering occasionally.
Now I got why it was called Cangqiong Wuya Sword Art. His blade shifted—swift as wind, fierce as thunder, supple as clouds—like the sky embracing all. Even my strikes got swallowed whole; no real offense landed.
Most shocking: raise your head anywhere, and the sky's always there. Here, the entire arena was his domain.
Facing it felt like staring into vast, open sky—endless futility. No wonder Paeng Soso rushed into basic errors.
I couldn't win. But unlike her, no need to panic. Stamina and qi plentiful; I came to fight full-out without shame, not to win.
Perfect for gaining experience. Where else would I face a technique like this? Hong Yeonhwa was demonic arts; this was righteous pinnacle—deeply satisfying.
...Though Namgung Hyeok's expression soured more by the minute.
By the time I'd emptied my arsenal, he finally spoke—lips pressed tight till now.
"Before the match, I said I'd learn from you. I take it back."
"Hm?"
Whoosh!
He swung wide to create distance, leveling his sword tip at me with a cold voice.
"There's nothing to learn from you."