Unassailable Against the Flow of the Times (3)
The Extreme Yang Pill certainly exerts tremendous influence on others, manifesting in the form of "miracles." But what happens if one person keeps channeling those miracles in the direction they desire?
Ka-ang!
"Impressive."
Watching Moyong Seol swing her sword, Dohwang Paengwol clicked his tongue in admiration.
"Her swordsmanship has already reached the Super Peak realm, hasn't it?"
"She just needs to break through the wall now. And her speed surpasses even mine, Senior Brother."
The Sword Saint replied to Dohwang's words. To me, it felt like idle talk among the clouds, but I could barely follow their spar with my eyes and infer the meaning.
"Hmph!"
Paengga's family head, Paeng Rim, swung his halberd with great force. True to Paengga's pursuit of ferocity, power, and strength, he wielded the massive weapon with both hands, pressuring Moyong Seol.
Ka-ang!
But Moyong Seol blocked the halberd by angling her sword obliquely. She twisted her grounded stance to deflect its weight while sliding the blade at an angle, letting the halberd glance off.
"Remarkable. At this point, we can say her external martial arts are fully perfected. Is this the power of a miracle?"
"If she wished for a body of immense strength without pain, that's how it would turn out."
As their conversation revealed, it was normally impossible for a woman like Moyong Seol to deflect such a halberd. Yet she wasn't just holding her stance—she was using raw power to parry and redirect Paengga's head, Paeng Rim's, strikes.
"Heh heh. Masters of external arts usually end up with hulking, muscular builds, but this too must be Physician Seok's miraculous grace."
"To some extent, yes."
It was a bit embarrassing, but the reason Moyong Seol possessed such immense strength in her delicate frame boiled down to one thing: she had desperately wished for it.
The strength of the flesh. Yet at the same time, not the bulging muscles of a bandit master, but a beauty far more stunning than before.
And the result was unfolding before our eyes.
Against Paeng Rim, whose bulk was at least twice her own, Moyong Seol held her ground, exchanging blows without yielding.
Kang, kang, ka-ang!
"Hup...!"
Instead, Paeng Rim began to fall back. At first, it looked like he'd push her away with the halberd's ferocious assault, but she quickly adapted and seized the chance to counterattack.
Against a Super Peak master, Moyong Seol was gradually gaining the upper hand.
"In terms of sword technique, Seol surpasses even me."
"Is that so? But her weakness is still..."
"Her internal energy."
"Haaap!"
Paeng Rim shouted with ki as he swung his halberd. A blue shimmer danced at its tip, clearly infused with internal energy.
"!!"
Moyong Seol leaped back greatly to evade it. Up until now, she'd parried and deflected with her sword, but the moment true energy was added, she abandoned her offense and retreated far to dodge.
"Huuu..."
Moyong Seol straightened her stance and thrust her sword forward. Frigid energy poured from her body into the blade, and a cracking sound like freezing ice echoed around her.
What to call that aura? Having spent some time in the Magyo, I could sum it up in one word.
Killing intent.
Even against Paengga's head, Moyong Seol exuded killing intent, utterly focused on victory.
Thus—
"That's enough."
The spar ended there.
"Seol. That's sufficient."
"......"
"Moyong Seol."
Even at the Sword Saint's words, Moyong Seol kept glaring only at Paengga's head. Muttering something under her breath, she looked possessed, a ghostly aura peeking through.
"Tch."
"Well, well. Blood truly doesn't lie, does it?"
The Sword Saint clicked his tongue while Dohwang shook his head.
Considering the Sword Saint had once been called the "Sword Ghost," there was nothing particularly strange about Moyong Seol's display—but
Judging by Dohwang's reaction, it doesn't seem to come from the Sword Saint's side.
If it were a trait inherited from the Sword Saint's blood, he'd show some guilt or remorse, and Dohwang would chide him. But there was none of that.
Instead, it felt like an unspoken taboo, as they held their tongues and tried to defuse the situation.
"Young Lady Moyong. That's enough. Lower your sword."
"......"
"Sigh. No helping it, then."
The Sword Saint and Dohwang turned their gazes to me.
"You call her off."
"Understood."
I steadied my breath and stepped forward. Moyong Seol's killing intent still flickered sharply enough to make the facing Paeng Rim swallow hard—but
"My love, Lady Moyong."
"!!"
At my words, her killing intent vanished in an instant.
"Ph-Physician?!"
Then the chill dissipated just as quickly, melting like ice in roaring flames, returning her to her usual self.
"S-Saying such things...!"
"Sheathe your sword and come here for a hug."
"...Yes."
Moyong Seol sheathed her sword at her waist and trotted over, nestling into my open arms.
"Mm."
"No scabbard, huh."
"......It's unavoidable, Senior Brother."
Dohwang gave a wry smile at Moyong Seol and me, while the Sword Saint looked at me with an air of enlightenment.
"If she were any other woman, I'd think you'd used Seophonsul or something."
"It's not like that..."
"That's exactly why I'm saying it. This is Seol's issue, not your fault."
"......"
Probably a trait inherited from her mother, or perhaps one that emerged from mixing with the Sword Saint's. That temperament might be what some call the potent death aura of the Heavenly Slayer Star—
"Still, your daughter is better off than some. Look at those whose eyes glaze over at the sight of a sword—"
Ka—ang!
A sharp sword cry rang out. The clash of steel made Moyong Seol startle.
"I-I'm not like that!"
"I know, my lady."
I hugged Moyong Seol tightly and patted her back.
"You're so soft—how could you make such a sharp sound?"
"Physician... B-But what was that noise?"
"Ha."
The Sword Saint covered his face with his hand.
"The old man's being sentimental."
"Less sentimentality and more that you're the one who didn't match her."
"If he weren't so weepy, that iron-blooded one wouldn't be rampaging."
Kang, kang, ka-ang!
"Seol. Follow behind me with Physician Seok. It's not the best start, but it'll be invaluable for your training."
"What's going on? What exactly is happening inside the household...?"
"Two Hyeongyeong-level swordswomen are clashing."
"......?"
* * *
Strangers rarely entered the Moyong Sega, so the household warriors couldn't help but eye the silver-haired beauty frequenting the medical quarters with curiosity.
"Isn't that the rejuvenated Geomhu? Mmph!"
"Hey now. Your insight's at Cheonma level."
"Do you have three lives or what?"
Even if they knew, they pretended not to. Even if they figured it out, they kept their mouths shut. Sure, rumors travel a thousand ri without legs—but if speaking them cost your head, you'd watch your words.
Thus, regarding the existence known as Geomhui Geum Serin in the Moyong household currently—
"Hey, Lady Geomhui. Oh, you're especially radiant today."
"Hohoho, thank you, sir."
"Urgh..."
Reactions varied wildly, but they had no choice but to treat her purely as "Geomhui Geum Serin."
"You seem particularly joyful today. Is something the matter?"
"Oh, nothing much. Just... my period's come a bit."
"Pfft!"
Geomhui Geum Serin was, truly, a most peculiar girl.
"I-Is it really okay to say that outright?"
"Oh? What's there to hide? No need to be embarrassed."
Blunt? Or utterly shameless?
"L-Lady Geum."
"Yes?"
"I've heard young ladies these days pride themselves on being honest with their feelings, but talking openly about your period is a different matter."
"...Oh, is it?"
She was worlds apart from your typical martial world prodigy beauties.
"Then what should I do? Could you teach me?"
"Ahem. Best to speak indirectly. My daughter used to say women have one day a month when they're under an illusion spell."
"Ah, illusion spell."
"Yes. That day, your body's in terrible shape, so you need to avoid letting the spell worsen the effects."
"Hmm..."
The Moyong Sega warriors were doing their utmost regarding Geomhui Geum Serin's "common sense."
"Is that true?"
"You've lived isolated in the Sword Pavilion for so long, cut off from the secular world, so you wouldn't know—but yes!"
"Ahh, I see! Got it. From now on, I'll express it more indirectly."
The Moyong Sega warriors poured their best efforts into fleshing out Geomhui Geum Serin's backstory. It was essentially a cover story everyone knew but pretended otherwise, and they took great joy in building her persona.
"L-Lady Geum. Later, perhaps a spar...?"
"Ohoho. Of course. I'll help anytime."
The Moyong Sega warriors had made their choice. Instead of bucking Geomhui Geum Serin's "setting," they'd steer things toward improving their own martial arts.
The flow was undeniable. Better to ride it, set aside some intellect, and focus on personal growth, no?
Geomhu or Geomhui—what did it matter? Flatter her ego, shove the uncomfortable truth from memory, and a mysterious Hyeongyeong-level beauty swordsman critiques your sword and offers advice!
As long as no one shattered this delicate balance—
"What are you doing, Geomhu?"
"......"
"Aren't you ashamed?"
A guest had arrived at Moyong Sega.
"My word. Rejuvenated or not, to think even your sense of shame has regressed."
The imperial guest, the Imperial SwordYeocheong.
"Geomhu. At your age, aren't you embarrassed?"
"......"
Calling the "Sword Princess" the "Sword Matriarch" to provoke her.
Ka-ang!
"This girl is Geomhui, Geum Serin!"
"Old enough to have a granddaughter."
And they clashed.