What Must Not Be Forgotten
"Swordsmanship my foot! I've never been interested in the sword! Since when did I practice so hard? Let's just enjoy the view."
Im Bukjin stood to one side, maintaining a quiet, composed demeanor. However, his eyes were moving with calm, stealthy precision, as if scanning for something at high speed. He was appraising the faces and figures of the two female students as if they were fine works of art.
The students surrounding him were startled when Bukjin suddenly slapped his own face.
"What happened?"
"Why did he do that all of a sudden?"
"Don't tell me his mental illness is acting up again?"
"No, looking at him lately, it seems like his condition is gone..."
"Ah, I've got it! Im Bukjin is waking himself up that way! He's refusing to be dazzled by the beautiful appearance of the two goddesses. He's trying to study their swordsmanship with a calm mind while waiting for the duel to begin! Th-this is the true dignity a swordsman should possess!"
Yun Yeok, the class president of Class 9, whose face was swollen and covered in bandages, shouted as if he had reached a grand realization. It was a personal interpretation born of blind adoration.
Hearing Yun Yeok's words, the male students in the vicinity felt ashamed of themselves for merely staring at the two goddesses' looks and fell into a collective silence.
"Even though Senior Brother Im is so strong, he's still disciplining his mind and immersing himself in the sword!"
"This must be the reason behind the incredible skill he's shown recently!"
Seol Ak and Jeong Go of Class 9 spoke in admiration. Consequently, the students watching from below the stage grew quiet. Everyone maintained a reverent silence, focusing on the duel with the intent to learn swordsmanship. The rowdy atmosphere vanished, replaced by a solemn gravity that filled the arena.
And so, the practical sparring between the two girls began. After a brief check of their condition, Jeong Sam-seok made the announcement.
"Begin the duel!"
Whish!
Two flashes of sword light sliced through the air simultaneously.
Clang!
The blades collided, sending sparks flying across the stage. No useless words were exchanged between them. There wasn't a hint of hesitation. The two women expressed themselves through the swords aimed at each other. The curtain on the battle had risen.
At first, the techniques they displayed were basic swordsmanship. Every form was perfect and beautiful. The sight of two stunning individuals executing these forms was like a masterpiece of a painting. They each showcased different variations and stances.
Their toned physiques were emphasized in various postures. Every time these two artistic students clashed, the male students' hearts seemed to tremble along with their swaying figures. The battle began to heat up. The confrontation between the two beautiful girls increasingly resembled a graceful dance. Their sparring drew gasps of admiration from the crowd.
"They're both strong, aren't they?" Bukjin remarked in awe.
The moment Bukjin spoke, the sound of people slapping their own cheeks echoed repeatedly from below the stage.
Slap!
Countless male students were hitting themselves.
"Wh-what's going on? Has everyone gone crazy?" Bukjin asked, startled.
The male students who had slapped themselves were all feeling a sense of shame, harshly rebuking their own lack of discipline. "Control your mind! To be bewitched by beauty! We must follow Senior Brother Im's example, focusing our hearts on learning the sword and pursuing strength!"
If Bukjin had known the truth, he would have been even more shocked. The hearts of these boys were simple to the point of ignorance.
The duel on the stage continued for about fifteen minutes. As if by unspoken agreement, the two girls let out a shout simultaneously and retreated three steps. Their momentum shifted, and a massive change occurred in their sword styles. Cold, sharp rays of light began to pour out from the longswords in their hands. Their power was intensifying.
"Star-Rank Sword Arts!" one of the teachers cried out in shock.
He had already been greatly surprised by Oh Sobang's earlier use of the 1-Star Sword Art, the Seven-Ring Cold Flash Sword. Star-rank techniques were not taught in junior academies. This was because the level of Hyeongi possessed by students was usually insufficient to manifest such arts. To use a Star-Rank Sword Art in actual combat, one needed a corresponding level of Mystic Energy to back it up.
Without sufficient energy, the power of the technique could not be sustained. In such cases, the destructive force would inevitably plummet. Therefore, even if one forced themselves to practice Star-rank arts, they would see no results, and it could even leave lingering side effects that might affect their promotion to an intermediate academy later.
However, there were no absolute rules. This world contained geniuses who defied common sense. In Unmong City, there were students whose talent surpassed the average person and who possessed high levels of Hyeongi. They obtained sword manuals through their own means and continued to practice in secret. If they were lucky, they could achieve results and unleash the power of Star-rank arts.
Oh Sobang was one such case. He had purchased the 1-Star Seven-Ring Cold Flash Sword and practiced it until he could mimic its forms. That alone had been enough to overwhelm countless students. Unfortunately, he had run into a monster like Bukjin and was utterly crushed.
In truth, if Oh Sobang had mastered the Seven-Ring Cold Flash Sword to the stage of Entering the Chamber, Bukjin would have lost. And now, Mok Simwol and Ak Hong-hyang, who were sparring before everyone's eyes, had already mastered their respective Star-rank arts to that very level. It was incomparable to the level Oh Sobang had shown.
The experienced teachers naturally noticed this. Consequently, they were deeply shaken. As the two girls began to unleash their techniques, a faint glow of Hyeongi rose above their blades. Every time the longswords collided, a strange resonance erupted. With every clash, a dim light flickered. Ripples of energy, like those on the surface of water, spread through the air.
The skill of these two students was extraordinary. They had reached this level through their own training. Looking at the current situation, even if Oh Sobang hadn't lost to Bukjin, he wouldn't have stood a chance against either of them. The teachers, who possessed a deep understanding of martial arts, could see this clearly.
However, people like Bukjin, who lacked understanding or interest in swordsmanship, only noticed the change in atmosphere. Bukjin simply thought that the battle between the two beauties had suddenly become flashier and more entertaining. The other students, being of a lower level, felt the shift in the air rather than the technical changes in the sword styles.
A moment later.
Clang!
The sound of longswords clashing violently rang out. Ak Hong-hyang let out a thin scream, clutching her wrist as she stumbled backward. Blood was trickling down her arm. The victor was clear.
Mok Simwol's expression was calm—neither arrogant nor humble.
"Junior Sister Ak, thank you for going easy on me."
Finally, a massive cheer erupted from below the stage. The duration of their sparring hadn't been long. In short, Mok Simwol's skill had been absolutely dominant. Ak Hong-hyang lowered her head and looked at her wound. A tendon in her right arm had been torn. She knew that Mok Simwol had inflicted this injury intentionally.
A torn tendon could only be treated with the White Jade Tendon-Binding Ointment, an extremely expensive medicine. She would have to rest for at least six months to let the tendon reattach. This would have a significant impact on her future sparring and sword training. No matter how well she managed the wound, it would take at least three months to heal completely. This would be a devastating blow for the upcoming Academic & Martial Arts Competition.
Yet, Ak Hong-hyang's expression remained remarkably composed.
"I have lost."
She simply accepted her defeat without uttering a single word of reproach toward Mok Simwol. She picked up her longsword with her left hand and descended from the stage.
"The winner is Mok Simwol!"
The supervisor, Jeong Sam-seok, announced the result in a loud voice. Standing on the stage, Mok Simwol wore a slender smile, her black hair fluttering in the wind. As the red light of the setting sun shone behind her, she looked even more beautiful.
"This concludes today's matches."
Cho Heun, the Grade Dean, stood up from the spectator stands and announced the end of the day's sparring. Now, only one final match remained in the annual tournament. The finals. The academy's top talent would be born in the battle taking place tomorrow.
The students left one by one, filled with anticipation and sharing their opinions. Some of the girls in Bukjin's fan club mustered the courage to look for him to get his signature. However, no matter how much they searched around the training grounds, their beautiful boy, Bukjin, had already vanished.
Fifteen minutes later, inside the faculty office.
"Hahaha! Brother Cheong-hyeon. What do you think? Did you get a good look at the skills of our 3rd Academy's 2nd-year talents?"
Cho Heun was asking the same question for the dozens of times, as if he had developed some sort of obsession. Lee Cheong-hyeon felt a headache coming on. "There's no end to this. I know you want to brag, but isn't this a bit much?"
Lee Cheong-hyeon had no choice but to answer.
"Yes, it's good. Very good."
Upon hearing those words, Cho Heun broke into a broad grin.
"Brother Cheong-hyeon, who do you think will win tomorrow's final?"
Lee Cheong-hyeon thought it over before replying. "On the surface, it seems like a clash between a dragon and a tiger. However, I believe Mok Simwol has a higher chance of winning."
"Pardon?" Cho Heun said, surprised. "What makes you say that?"
Lee Cheong-hyeon replied, "Hmm... Intuition."
Cho Heun nodded. "It certainly is hard to explain. Even though Im Bukjin's Hyeongi is stronger, I share the same thought as you, Brother Cheong-hyeon."
"By the way, Cho Heun. Have you thought about how that 'trash' fellow, who used to hate training, suddenly transformed into a genius with such immense skill? I wonder what kind of secret is hidden there..." Lee Cheong-hyeon mused.
Cho Heun's expression turned serious. "I've thought about it as well. Could it be that the War God left something behind? He was a legend of the Imperial wars, a man who created many miracles... It wouldn't be strange if such a man left a massive Great Opportunity for the son he doted on."
Lee Cheong-hyeon nodded. He seemed to be viewing the situation from the same perspective as Cho Heun. However, there was something that must not be forgotten. After the incident involving the War God, the Empire had spared Bukjin only because he was a worthless 'trash' of a boy. In other words, he posed no threat.
But now, Bukjin had transformed into a peerless genius.
"If His Imperial Majesty finds out about this, would he leave the only son of the traitorous War God alive?"