Friend (3)
A spear. A weapon fashioned by attaching a sharp blade to a pole whittled for a comfortable grip. One of humanity's ancient creations, alongside swinging clubs, thrusting swords, slashing blades, and piercing arrows.
Sparring one-on-one. With no intent to harm his opponent, Jin Yeo-rip opted for a staff. An iron one, of course. That ought to be fine. The man was Shandong's top expert, after all. It was a bit heavy, but wood couldn't withstand the Twelve Flows anyway—he'd tested that already. Infuse it with internal energy, and it would shatter in moments.
Whoosh!
Jin Yeo-rip swung the bladeless iron staff experimentally, a satisfied smile curling his lips. He liked the sound it made slicing through the air.
"Shall we begin?"
"Whenever you're ready."
Hoo.
Jin Yeo-rip assumed his stance, eyes locked on Hwangbo Mungang. What to try first? He'd already grasped the man's strength from that opening move. His Baji short burst, which he'd thought reasonably swift, had been dodged effortlessly, as if seen from a mile away—the man twisting aside at the last instant. Even his follow-up variations had backfired, leaving his side wide open to a counter. In a real fight, he'd be down already.
Noticing Jin Yeo-rip's wariness from that first clash, Hwangbo Mungang had dropped his hands from behind his back. No room for gaps now—he had to press the attack relentlessly. That left his two remaining moves as linked techniques. But Hwangbo Mungang knew the Ak family spear arts inside out, so he'd need feints mixed in.
What would work? Lost in a whirlwind of tactical options, Jin Yeo-rip just stared blankly—until Hwangbo Mungang smirked.
"How long do you plan to keep me waiting? The sun will set at this rate."
"I was just about to start, you know?"
Jin Yeo-rip pouted at the jab, grumbling. Damn, so many choices. Then it hit him: Everyone has a brilliant plan until they get hit. Think too much, and you're predictable. Feints had to be improvised on the fly.
"Here I come!"
"Good! I've been waiting to see what else you've got!"
Hwangbo Mungang's face lit up as Jin Yeo-rip extended the iron staff low like a spear, the onlookers gulping dryly.
Hoo.
His internal energy flowed in reverse circulation, gathering at the tip at his command.
Ziiing.
Energy infused his forward-gliding step. Filled to the brim, it erupted from his instep, stirring an eerie wind.
Whiiish.
"Hm?"
Hwangbo Mungang's brow furrowed at the sudden shift in aura. Something grating about it.
"Hah!"
What was this? Just holding a weapon had transformed him into someone else entirely. Only then did it dawn: his son Wonpyeong had never stood a chance.
Some might argue bare hands versus weapon, but wasn't Wonpyeong's fist his deadliest tool?
"Now this is more like it. Each moment brings fresh surprises."
Hwangbo Mungang grinned wolfishly, stirring his own energy. No holding back now.
As a haze of murderous intent shimmered around him, Jin Yeo-rip exploded into motion.
Bam!
A tireless wheel of rotation, strikes raining without pause—like one of the Ak family spear arts' forms, Geukryun.
Propelling off the ground with all his might, Jin Yeo-rip scraped sparks from the staff along the floor.
Grraaash!
"Hup!"
Was it the sound's menace? His movements felt far swifter than barehanded. He pivoted at the last second, whipping the shaft toward Hwangbo Mungang's waist.
Whiiip!
The staff bent like a bowstring. Hwangbo Mungang dropped low, raising an energy-hardened arm to block.
Claaang!
A dull thud, and one of Hwangbo Mungang's eyes twitched. That familiar burst at the endpoint...
His foot skidded back, body shoved aside. Monstrous power. Before he could marvel, the rebounding staff hammered relentlessly—a Baji strike, honed to perfection.
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pak!
Trapped in a whirlwind of blows, a vague figure sharpened in Hwangbo Mungang's mind: Divine Spear Ak Hwi. Hadn't his youth looked just like this?
But he couldn't just gape. Geukryun was breathless assault; it'd halt when breath failed, but losing face like that?
Clang!
He smashed the incoming staff aside, creating an opening, and lunged before Jin Yeo-rip could close in. Only one way to stop Geukryun: seize the initiating hand! He'd yielded three moves, no attacking—but he'd grab and halt it.
Yet Jin Yeo-rip backpedaled to match his speed.
"Huh? You little—!"
Geukryun raged on.
Pak! Pa-pak! Bam!
Even batting it away palm-first jarred him. What? The impacts pierced his guard? Same form, but the force behind it had changed. Frowning in confusion, Jin Yeo-rip smirked slyly.
Knew it. You'd block head-on, so I adapted. Twelve Flows River dumps all power at once, leaving gaps—so I split it. Call it Divide Strength!
Who cares if it's weaker? Can't win anyway—might as well make it hurt!
Take this! Geukryun! Infinite barrage!
Pa-pa-pa-pa-pak!
Grinning wildly, Jin Yeo-rip accelerated the swings. But Hwangbo Mungang wasn't so easily fooled.
Clack!
"...!"
The staff was caught. Then crushed.
Crun-ch!
Finger marks etched deep. Iron, crushed like that...? Anything gripped in that hand wouldn't survive.
"End of that form!"
"Huh?"
"Next, the third move."
Jin Yeo-rip dropped the mangled staff without regret and strode to grab another. Hwangbo Mungang's cheeks twitched.
This brat... Something about him just got under your skin.
And Jin Yeo-rip launched right into another form.
"Haaap!"
"..."
Linked strikes—Geukryun again.
Pa-pa-pa-pak!
Who cares if it wasn't planned? Hit him more!
"Brat! Think the same trick works twice?!"
Face on the line, Hwangbo Mungang reached again—but the staff slipped free like a greased eel, leaving him grasping air.
"Wha?"
Thought he'd nabbed it? Jin Yeo-rip grinned.
Same trick? Nah, I mixed in a feint this time, family head.
Twelve Flows, Scatter. Alter energy use, and the same attack transforms—that's Baji and Twelve Flows' edge.
Leaving afterimages, the staff poured down.
"Hah!"
Hwangbo Mungang chuckled, lips curling. Fun kid. Showed promise; he'd planned a mentoring spar to gauge him...
But now the boy was toying with him? Baiting with repeats to lower guard, slipping in the new. Impressive. A waste as just a merchant's son.
But raw. No solid basics.
"Haaap!"
As Jin Yeo-rip roared and swung harder, a strange heat rose from Hwangbo Mungang—the Hwangbo clan's pride, Heavenly King Qi from Heavenly King Three Fists. No more restraint; true power unleashed.
The signature energy of the Hwangbo clan's Heavenly King Three Fists.
Claaang!
"...?!"
The merciless staff's tone changed, a jarring buzz vibrating up his arms. Palms tearing.
"A weapon's foundation starts with grip. Build strength in your hands first!"
Clang!
Jin Yeo-rip winced. Each block stung his palms; the staff warped unevenly.
"Master the grip, then your stance. Without a solid lower body, your strikes lack power. Claw the earth with all ten toes—that's true footing."
"..."
"Comprehend the Six Harmonies. It's the root form because all arts stem from its motion."
Chasing the retreating Jin Yeo-rip, Hwangbo Mungang struck the staff while lecturing like a master.
"Qi and strength harmonize; every joint must flow organically to unleash full power."
"Urk!"
"Grasp Taiji's teachings. Realize heaven and earth as one, and your spear will flow unhindered. That's what Divine Spear told me in our first spar."
Claaang!
At the lecture's end, the staff flew from his grip. Palms split, blood spurting. Wincing back, Jin Yeo-rip caught Hwangbo Mungang's smile.
"Your three opening moves are done... Now, this junior gets a proper lesson!"
Hwangbo Mungang surged like a tsunami—or a sea monster crashing in.
"Gasp!"
No time to retreat; he burrowed deep, grinning as twin palms thrust out.
"Chest wide open, movements sluggish. Stellar energy, lacking skill. Wield a weapon? Master swift footwork first. Tigers strike light and vast."
Words nonstop. He darted in, tapped gaps lightly, withdrew. Real strikes would've ended it. Mentoring spar—pointing flaws.
But who could hear amid desperate blocks and dodges?!
Damn it!
Rage boiled. He'd hoped to graze him—delusion. Gap too vast. Obvious, yet infuriating. No martial dreams, yet his weakness felt pathetic. That resentment lodged like sediment, igniting a strange heat.
Twelve Flows Reverse Heaven stirred emotions. Winning urge and fury amplified it beyond before.
As a fist flew at his empty chest, crystal clear, Jin Yeo-rip twisted and smashed back.
Craaang!
"Good! That's it!"
The dynamic shifted. Blocking the fist, Jin Yeo-rip pressed; Hwangbo Mungang parried, teaching.
"Range off—you misjudged distance. Advance one more step than you think."
Advice, sure—but it grated like nagging. Damn boomer! Suddenly pitied Hwangbo Wonpyeong. How much lecturing to forge that skill?
Time for payback. Somehow...
One chi—three centimeters. Tauntingly precise, unbridgeable no matter his efforts.
"Yah!"
Full-power thrust, weaving hooks—all fell short.
"More! Hurry!"
Hwangbo Mungang urged bloom, testing limits. Fist toward his face—chi short again. He smiled, expectant.
Then Jin Yeo-rip... splayed his fingers.
Can't reach? Make it reach!
Pak!
"Kuh."
Caught off-guard, Hwangbo Mungang jerked back, barely dodging—but fingertips grazed. His left eye twitched.
He knew. Dirty trick. So what? High-level foes deserve dirty plays. Wanted to smack him.
"Hap!"
Jin Yeo-rip whipped up his left leg.
Clang!
Eye twitching, Hwangbo Mungang blocked with an arm. But Jin Yeo-rip twisted midair.
Aimed to be blocked from the start. Targeted the blind spot from that twitch...
...Aerial spinning kick.
I know some taekwondo. Black belt.
Counter slammed him to the ground, vision blurring. But he'd landed one. Not clean, but felt it.
Sprawled on the training ground, consciousness fading, a thick smile played on Jin Yeo-rip's lips.