The Coward

"What did you just say?"

Han Bul-bu spun around, his eyes blazing with fury as he glared at Jo Pacheon. Even Baek Geum-un, usually more composed, was breathing heavily with rage as she shouted, "Hey, Jo! You'd better watch that mouth of yours before you say something you can't take back!"

On the infirmary bed, Ak Hong-hyang reached out with a trembling hand, clutching the hems of her friends' clothes and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠shaking her head weakly. Jo Pacheon, however, didn't seem to care in the slightest about the two shouting at him. To him, Han Bul-bu and Baek Geum-un were nothing more than ants crawling beneath his feet—beings unworthy of even a moment's conversation.

Jo Pacheon looked directly at Bukjin, a greasy, mocking smile spreading across his face. "Im Bukjin, if you have the leisure to worry about others, you'd be better off worrying about how you're going to pass the next trial."

Bukjin replied calmly, his voice devoid of emotion. "I was just about to say the same to you."

Jo Pacheon burst into a loud, arrogant laugh. "Is that so? Then keep your eyes wide open and watch exactly how I conquer this trial."

With a cold sneer, Jo Pacheon turned back toward the gathered students. "Chief Proctor, I am exercising my priority right to take the trial first!" he shouted toward Mae Ji-won.

Having taken first place in the Paper Bridge Crossing, Jo Pacheon possessed the privilege to dictate the testing order. Mae Ji-won gave a curt nod of approval.

Jo Pacheon stepped up to the entrance of the Rainstorm Canyon. He turned his head slightly, casting one last derisive look at Bukjin. "Watch closely."

"Ready... START!"

At the Chief Proctor's command, Jo Pacheon’s figure blurred, launching into the Rainstorm Canyon like a released arrow.

Whish! Swish! Whoosh!

The air was instantly filled with the sharp, whistling screams of arrows cutting through the void. Jo Pacheon moved with calculated precision, shifting his position with every step at a constant, rhythmic speed.

Shing!

His sword cleared its scabbard in a flash of silver. Sword light erupted around him.

Clang! Tang! Ting-ting-ting!

A continuous resonance of metal clashing against metal echoed through the hall. Jo Pacheon was enveloped in a dense, intricate web of sword light. More than ninety percent of the incoming arrows were deflected by his blade, while the remaining ten percent were evaded with effortless grace through his superior footwork.

He moved with the confidence of a man taking a leisurely stroll through his own private garden. To the onlookers mesmerized by his profound movements, his pace almost seemed slow, yet in reality, he reached the far side of the canyon in a mere eight breaths.

Sheathe!

He clicked his sword back into its scabbard and turned around, a triumphant smile on his face. With his golden hair, pristine white robes, sturdy build, and handsome features, the genius of Unmong City certainly had the skill to back up his arrogance.

Silence descended upon the Great Hall. Jo Pacheon’s overwhelming display of power had left the other students utterly suppressed. A faint, rare smile touched the gloomy face of Chief Proctor Mae Ji-won.

Another Super-A grade. It was a terrifying display of talent. To achieve such a score in a trial this rigorous and dangerous proved that he possessed monstrous ability.

"Heh, my performance is over," Jo Pacheon said, looking toward Bukjin. "Did you enjoy the show?"

Bukjin nodded simply. "I saw it. It was... mediocre."

Jo Pacheon’s face twisted into a sneer. "Is that so? They say people with no talent often have the loudest mouths. If you truly have the ability you claim, then try to surpass my score."

Bukjin didn't bother responding further. He walked slowly toward the entrance of the Rainstorm Canyon.

"Chief Proctor. I am using my priority right to take the trial now."

Bukjin had taken the top spot in three subjects of the written exam, as well as the Hall of Strength and the Duel of Sword Speed. Consequently, he had five priority tokens in total. He had used one earlier to change the order, leaving him with four remaining.

Mae Ji-won nodded, granting permission.

Bukjin stood before the canyon entrance. For once, he wasn't running any advertisements or cracking jokes. He didn't say a word. He simply stood there in absolute silence. A stray breeze, appearing from nowhere, caused his long black hair to flutter. From his lean, toned body, an aura as heavy and volatile as a dormant volcano began to seep out.

"Ready..." Mae Ji-won shouted. "START!"

In that instant, Bukjin transformed into a streak of light and shot into the Rainstorm Canyon.

'Ultimate Moment!' Bukjin roared internally.

The hidden secret of the Twin Flying Water Technique was activated. His mental focus surged, doubling in an instant. The secret technique Ultimate Moment was a martial art that awakened an absolute sensory field, allowing the practitioner to perceive everything happening within a certain range. Within this field, the user could sense and evade every single projectile—be it hidden weapons or arrows—without fail. The duration was six breaths.

When Bukjin had first mastered this secret technique of the 2-star Twin Flying Water Technique, he had been stunned by its sheer effectiveness. It was, quite literally, the perfect martial art for a trial like this.

Bukjin's form seemed to vanish into thin air. He began to flicker at a speed that the human eye could barely track.

Whish! Swish! Whoosh!

Countless arrows fired from the walls passed straight through Bukjin’s body. Or rather, they passed through his afterimages. Every time his figure flickered, he leaped across several yards of distance. The afterimages he left behind made it look as if he had transcended the physical world, moving through a space where reality and illusion were one.

The students watching him flicker across the canyon felt their very understanding of movement techniques being turned upside down. The endless rain of arrows continued to clatter uselessly against the canyon floor. Not a single shaft so much as grazed his clothes. It was as if the arrows were physically incapable of reaching him.

While the crowd stood frozen in shock, their souls practically leaving their bodies, a cold voice rang out.

"Five breaths."

It was Bukjin. He was already standing at the far end of the canyon. Unlike the fading afterimages still lingering within the pass, his actual form stood tall and vivid at the finish line. Only then did the illusions within the canyon begin to dissipate like scattering smoke.

The stunned spectators finally snapped out of their daze.

'What in the world...'

'Is it over already?'

'How much time passed?'

Every eye turned toward Chief Proctor Mae Ji-won. The Proctor’s head was bowed, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an unreadable expression masking his face. Finally, he announced the result in a loud, clear voice.

Mae Ji-won’s voice echoed through the hall, followed by a silence so heavy it felt as if cold water had been poured over the entire assembly. The students were in a state of total shock. Even the observing teachers couldn't hide their astonishment.

Ryu Gye-hae, Cho Heun, Ban Oe-min, and even Elder Hae exchanged looks of disbelief. Though they had harbored high expectations for Bukjin, none of them had imagined he would pass the trial with such common-sense-defying, shocking skill. In an environment like the Rainstorm Canyon, it was considered nearly impossible to avoid every single arrow, let alone beat Jo Pacheon’s record of eight breaths by even a single second.

Yet Bukjin had cleared it three breaths faster than Jo Pacheon’s "impossible" record. And the most staggering part was that Bukjin hadn't drawn his sword once.

What did that imply? It meant that from start to finish, Bukjin had relied solely on his evasion to navigate the rain of arrows. It was a completely different level of mastery compared to blocking or deflecting them with a blade. What Bukjin had shown was the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠absolute pinnacle of movement techniques—the very essence of what this trial was meant to test.

"Did you see that?" Bukjin asked, looking back at Jo Pacheon from the depths of the canyon.

Standing there with an air of quiet majesty, Bukjin’s handsome face carried the aura of a War God descended from the heavens. Jo Pacheon’s facial muscles twitched violently before his handsome features contorted into a hideous mask of rage.

"You... you weren't injured at all!" Jo Pacheon shrieked.

"Is that so?" Bukjin countered with a mocking smirk. "Are you saying the only reason you were confident you could beat me was because you thought I was wounded? If that's the case, you really are a pathetic bastard."

"I..." Jo Pacheon didn't even realize it, but his emotions were laid bare on his face, which was flushing a deep, humiliated red.

"You what?" Bukjin’s voice turned ice-cold. "I watched your little performance quite well. Now it's my turn to ask. Did you enjoy mine?"

Blue veins throbbed on Jo Pacheon’s forehead. He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice thick with resentment. "So what if I saw it? Hmph, I simply let my guard down for a moment—"

"Let your guard down? Hahaha! You miserable wretch. You're nothing but a coward, a timid little rat!" Bukjin cut him off with a ruthless laugh. "Jo Pacheon, your petty confidence and courage are selective—they only exist when you have the absolute advantage. You act like a god among men when facing the weak, but you shrivel up like dust in the wind before the strong. You're just a coward who preens in front of those who can't fight back."

"Shut up! You're just spewing whatever nonsense comes to your head!" Jo Pacheon screamed, trembling with rage.

"Then let me ask you one thing," Bukjin said, his voice cutting through the air. "If your Mystic Energy was suppressed to the level of our classmate Ak Hong-hyang, would you still have the guts to step into that canyon as fearlessly as ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠you just did? And for the honor of your academy, would you have the resolve to finish that trial even if forty-one arrows were buried in your flesh?"

"Of course I—" Jo Pacheon opened his mouth to argue, but he suddenly felt the weight of the other students' gazes upon him. An inexplicable, chilling fear began to bubble up from the depths of his heart.