The Spar
"Ah. So it can be used like that, too."
Shin Sua had never imagined the Sanctuary skill might serve as a sparring ground. To Jin-soo the regressor, though, fighting inside a Sanctuary was nothing new. It was the only place where he could train freely while still hiding his class, his skills, his swordsmanship, and his combat style from other players.
Now and then a bout grew so fierce, and ran so long, that the Sanctuary itself shattered — but those occasions were exceedingly rare.
Not that I plan to drag this one out.
Sleep was precious. He meant to be finished before eleven.
Good thing Sua's been training without a break.
Even outside of combat, Shin Sua was diligent enough to keep casting without rest. That was why they could turn her Sanctuary into a training hall at all.
A low-level Sanctuary wouldn't work as a sparring ground.
At low levels the skill's cooldown dragged on, its duration was short, and the space inside was cramped. Outsiders could watch, and every sound carried. As the level rose, the cooldown shrank and the duration lengthened. The interior expanded as well, and past level 100 it gained stealth and soundproofing. There was no better place to spar.
And all it needs is an open stretch of ground.
The cooldown was short enough that even if they used it for tonight's training, it would be ready again by the time they headed out to the hunting grounds tomorrow.
"What, precisely, is this Sanctuary skill?"
Cheon Museong asked it with a puzzled face. Since arriving in the Tower he had played solo the entire way; he had never formed a party or hunted monsters alongside anyone. Never having partied with another player, he naturally had no idea what a healer's Sanctuary was.
"A Sanctuary skill is..."
Jin-soo explained in detail what it was and what it did.
"Hah! Astonishing. Truly."
Cheon Museong looked at Shin Sua again as if seeing her for the first time, surprise bright in his eyes. Until now, the only notion of a healer that had occupied his mind was something like a physician — a person who could mend wounds a little faster. Receiving buffs in a party with Jin-soo had startled him somewhat, but that had been the whole of it.
Since entering the Tower, Cheon Museong had never once taken a fatal wound. Even without Shin Sua's buffs, he possessed the martial power to sweep monsters aside with ease. From his point of view a healer was pleasant to have, and no great loss to lack.
And yet, beyond treating injuries and casting buffs, she held a skill like this.
All that needless suffering I put myself through.
Memories rose one after another: crouching in a tree on floors with no safe zone, dozing through the night dew; and, unable to use the auction house once the food ran out, clutching an empty stomach and filling it with stream water.
Recruit a single healer, and all of it would have been solved.
He hadn't known.
In truth, the most decisive reason Cheon Museong had climbed from Floor 100 to Floor 200 in half a year was simply this: he wanted to sleep comfortably in a bed, and he did not want to fill a hungry belly with water. It had been worst of all when he passed Floor 100 without gathering any real information.
Those monsters came at me at every hour, without fail.
As if he had smeared honey over his own body — he would clear the surroundings completely, climb a tree, and lie down to sleep, and still a monster attacked within thirty minutes, every time. Some burst up from the ground. Some dropped out of the sky. Some climbed the trunk. Creatures he could kill with a single swing kept rushing him and jolting him awake, and the fatigue piled up of its own accord.
Enduring hunger was its own tremendous pain.
When he first climbed from Floor 100 to Floor 101, his revulsion toward the System had been so fierce that he neither learned the Inventory skill nor carried a treasure pouch. At the start he barely held on, drinking nothing but water. Starving to the brink of death, he seriously considered whether he would have to eat the monster meat that sometimes dropped, just to survive.
If he had not been lucky enough to kill a mimic and obtain food — and if those good-hearted junior martial artists had not "volunteered" to share their rations — he might well have had to choke down monster meat that was fishy, foul, and tough as leather, simply to live.
No matter how high one's level and stats, no matter how deep one's martial attainment, a person had to sleep and eat before they could think clearly or bring their strength to bear.
So when I passed Floor 150, I came at least half-prepared.
He bought an Inventory skill book and learned it, and, just in case, purchased a treasure pouch as well and packed it full of food. Even so, that only solved the matter of food.
I still couldn't sleep those snatches in peace.
Monsters raiding at all hours had worn on him until his nerves were fit to snap. And all of it — all of it — could have been settled by traveling with a single healer.
I refused them for nothing.
Plenty of people, having seen his martial power, had hoped to travel with him. He had turned every one of them down simply because none had satisfied his eye.
From now on, at least, I will sleep in comfort.
Cheon Museong let out a silent sigh of relief. Had he never met Jin-soo, who knew how long it would have taken him to realize a healer could cast a skill called Sanctuary.
"Go ahead and open it."
"Okay."
Shin Sua cast Sanctuary.
Fwaaaah!
A ring of brilliant light swelled until it blanketed the whole of the open ground. Ordinarily she shrank the Sanctuary to a size comfortable for her and Jin-soo alone. Today the purpose was different, so she pushed the skill to its greatest possible size.
In truth, a Sanctuary opened this large made the stealth and soundproofing nearly meaningless. Anyone who came close would know at once that the skill was active.
Doesn't matter.
Jin-soo paid it no mind. The land belonged to no one. Whether they opened a Sanctuary and sparred here, or built a campfire and roasted meat, there was no one with the right to tell them not to.
"Shall we begin?"
Shrrring.
Jin-soo drew Baekcheonsingeom and the Blood-Sucking Sword.
"I ask that you teach me a thing or two."
Shrrring.
Cheon Museong drew his own blade and, face taut with tension, leveled it at Jin-soo.
Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!
From the swords in Jin-soo's hands burst a pure-white sword aura and a blood-red one. Cheon Museong answered in kind, sending out streams of snow-white aura.
Tak!
It was Cheon Museong who moved first, launching himself forward and swinging. His sword traced a fluid arc toward Jin-soo's throat.
Kwaaaang!
With a tremendous boom, Jin-soo turned the blow aside as if it weighed nothing and struck back.
Kwaang! Kwaang! Kwaang!
Shards of sword aura burst in every direction. Their blades met and parted again and again, moving so fast the eye could barely follow.
I can watch all I want. I still can't tell what's happening.
Shin Sua stood with a protection skill raised, a blank look on her face.
I'm so glad I met Jin-soo.
She had originally held a warrior-type class, and she knew perfectly well she had no talent for it. In her old party, her companions had treated her as dead weight.
She could not be of great help to Jin-soo, perhaps, but a healer suited her far better. As a warrior she had never grasped the timing of an attack or a retreat, nor where an enemy's opening lay. After she changed class, she knew by instinct when to heal and when to lay on blessings and protection — her body cast the skill before her head had finished the thought.
Thanks to Jin-soo, I found where I belong.
If she had never met him, she would have walked the warrior's path without ever learning she was meant to heal, and ended as a monster's meal.
Thank you, Jin-soo. I'll work even harder.
It pleased her more than a little that she could offer Jin-soo and Cheon Museong a place to spar.
Good thing I kept at it.
In truth, Sanctuary had never looked like a skill whose usefulness would climb much just from grinding its level. Even a level-1 Sanctuary was tremendously sturdy, and it lasted a long time. Shin Sua had kept at it anyway. The same held during long stays in the city. She calculated cooldowns down to the minute, ready for whatever might go wrong in the hunting grounds, and still cast Sanctuary in town to raise its level.
Keep going.
It was not only Sanctuary. Recovery, Blessing, Protection, Purification, and Dispel were all beginning to show results.
The healer class skills Jin-soo could learn were fundamentals, nothing more. Additional skills could be gained through healer-exclusive skill books, but unless the book was truly exceptional, those remained supplementary at best. And crucially, skills born of Skill Synthesis could not have their levels raised. Because of that, the healer skills Jin-soo could use now sat far below the level of the ones Shin Sua held.
Of course, if he changes class back to healer and synthesizes them again, all of this becomes useless.
Doing so would cost no small number of points. And though she did not know the details, it did not seem he could create synthesized skills of unlimited level forever. The higher she raised her healer skills, the more help she would be to him.
Most decisive of all, the stronger heals, blessings, protections, purifications, and dispels gained by raising one's class level were things the Jin-soo of now could never obtain. A smile found her lips of its own accord at the thought that, as a healer and as a party member, the things only she could do were growing.
Only a day ago she had been anxious, and frustrated. Today the fruit of her effort had shown itself, and expectation rose higher still.
I'll try a little harder.
Then, as now, there would be things she could do for him. If she was useful to Jin-soo, he would have no reason to cast her aside.
I won't fall behind. Not ever.
Shin Sua smiled softly and watched him, wholly absorbed in his spar with Cheon Museong.
Cheon Museong's eyes were so full of happiness that they bordered on madness. The corners of his mouth had climbed until they nearly reached his ears.
Joy. Pure joy.
Even in the Museong Dimension, he had never once sparred like this. No — a spar, or a fight to the death, had scarcely been possible to begin with.
A bout or a death match between ordinary martial artists was easy to arrange and left no great wake. For those who had reached the Profound Realm, the bout itself was nearly impossible to bring about. The political aftermath riding on the victory or defeat of two such masters was immense.
Cheon Museong had been prepared to bear that cost, however great. Even the loss of his own life would not have mattered. His opponents, however, were not of the same mind. And so, from the day he attained the Profound Realm, he had never fought a death match against a martial artist of his own level — had never even sparred with one. That was why this bout with Jin-soo was so joyful, and so happy.
I never thought I would come to be glad I was dragged into the Tower.
Since being taken, he had known no good days. There had only ever been things to sour the mood. Not anymore. Meeting Jin-soo, crossing blades, gaining insight, and now being given the chance to spar — he felt as if he might take to the sky.
Today is only the beginning.
Jin-soo had said they would spar every day. In plain terms, this happy, delightful time would not end tonight. It would go on.
The finest choice I ever made.
He lavished fierce praise on the past self who had wagered that he would become Jin-soo's servant. Until recently, he had regretted it a little. There were equal bonds, like friend or comrade, and lesser ones, like disciple or subordinate — and of all things, he had bet on becoming a servant. That thought had flown far away now.
What does it matter if I am a servant, a friend, or a disciple?
If he could enjoy a spar like this every day and receive instruction, he thought he would be happy even as a slave, licking the soles of Jin-soo's shoes. It was not merely the satisfaction of the bout. Jin-soo's footwork and the paths of his sword were showing Cheon Museong the right road forward.
Sparring alone would have been more than enough to be grateful for. On top of that, Jin-soo was showing him the way to climb to a higher realm as a martial artist. Nothing could have been better.
If bouts like today's continue every day, I will surely advance to a higher realm.
Perhaps he would even gain an insight as precious as the one from the first day he had crossed swords with Jin-soo.
"All right. We'll end the sword spar here for today."
Jin-soo declared the bout over.
"Aaaah..."
A sigh thick with regret broke from Cheon Museong. If it were up to his heart alone, he would have thrown hunting and everything else aside and crossed blades with Jin-soo all day, pausing only to eat and sleep. That was not a thing one man's wishing could make so.
"The hour is still early. Might we continue a little longer, My Lord?"
He bent at the waist and asked in a tone more respectful than any he had used before.
"You wish to keep going?"
"Of course."
Hope lit Cheon Museong's face.
"Hm. Then let's spar under the assumption that you're facing PK players who use all manner of skills."
"...What?"
At Jin-soo's words, Cheon Museong's face said he had no idea what that meant.
"You don't want to?"
At that single line, his expression changed.
"No. I do. Gladly."
He did not know what a spar meant to simulate facing PK players who used all manner of skills. Whatever it was, a spar was a spar — and accepting the offer meant he could keep crossing blades with Jin-soo. That was the same thing.
"Then from here on, this is no longer martial artist against martial artist. We'll spar as if you were facing PK players who use all sorts of skills."
With that, Jin-soo stored sword and armor in his inventory and equipped a staff and a robe from somewhere.
"Huh?"
Cheon Museong was still wearing the look of a man asking what in the world that was supposed to be, when Jin-soo lifted the staff, turned a wicked smile on him, and took aim.
In that instant, instinct told Cheon Museong the truth. He had made a grave mistake. Something had gone very, very wrong. But the water was already spilled — and for Cheon Museong, there had never been a choice that let him scoop it back up.