Sparring That's Not Sparring
"Hmph. The old man in the back room and his ragtag bunch are putting on quite the noisy playtime this morning."
The mocking voice from the entrance of the Training Ground made Chohee's head creak around. Blue robes, a cheonggang sword at his waist. And that insufferably arrogant face, chin thrust high. It was Mujin, the direct disciple of Cheongmyeong Elder, strutting around the Wudang Sect with his nose in the air ever since reaching the Absolute Peak realm.
A greenhorn who wouldn't have dared meet her eyes in her past life.
"Allow me to step in for my martial uncle and give these foolish juniors a proper lesson in what Wudang's true sword is all about."
Mujin swaggered into the Training Ground.
A lesson? From you?
Chohee's eyes narrowed as she stared at him. This pup who had just barely crossed into Absolute Peak was daring to talk about teaching her?
Ah… that damn bastard for real.
It was something she'd seen countless times at the pinnacle of the evil faction in her past life. Orthodox young masters with no real battle scars, flapping their gums on the strength of some flimsy achievement. She knew better than anyone how those types ended up when they strutted around with that leisure in life-or-death combat.
And it had been her role to decide their fates.
Chohee staggered to her feet, gripping the fallen wooden sword so hard her knuckles turned white.
With the monster watching, she should have shrunk down like a mouse no matter what Mujin said, but her mental state wasn't exactly stable right now.
"I'll… receive your instruction."
Before the monster could say a word, she stepped forward. She'd tried to sound as polite as possible, but the vicious aura seeped through, making Seorin and Hwaran nearby gasp and stare in horror. Still, she didn't take it back.
The monster stroked his chin thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded with a kindly smile.
"Very well. Mujin, as you suggested, please give the child some guidance. But you must use only wooden swords."
The moment permission was granted, Chohee inwardly cheered. A legal meat shield had been tossed her way to vent all the pent-up frustration.
"Ha! Wooden swords, you say. Can't have my little martial sister getting hurt, so I'll graciously hold back my internal energy."
Chohee nearly burst out laughing at the fool digging his own grave, but instead, she kicked off the ground.
Pa-at!—!
Before Mujin's words could even finish. Her footwork was pure Wudang, but she minimized the stride to the extreme, multiplying the steps until she closed in on his chest before he could react.
"Such recklessness…!"
Mujin, panicking, hastily raised his wooden sword to guard high.
Idiot.
In her eyes—still fresh from being toyed with under that monster's overwhelming might moments ago—Mujin's strike was laughably slow and straightforward, its trajectory plain as day. It made her want to yawn.
No killing. No killing. No killing. No killing. No killing.
Chanting it to herself to avoid mistakes in front of the monster, she twisted her body slightly to deflect his sword, leaped low, and in one fluid motion swung her blade up over her head and down.
Cheongpung Geombeop, Third Form: Yuseong.
The trajectory shot out straight, just as her master had instructed—majestic and plummeting. But the tip didn't hit Mujin's head. It struck empty space above his right shoulder, right on the Cheonjonghyeol acupoint, a spot that induced excruciating pain.
Thud!—
"Gaaak!"
Mujin's arm went numb from the unguarded vital point strike, and his balance crumbled. As his agonized scream rang out, life sparked in Chohee's eyes.
Had she aimed for his head, the lesson would have ended there. She just wanted to play with this toy a second longer.
"Master said it—the wind must sometimes blow fiercely!"
Using her master's teaching as an excuse, Chohee didn't pull back her sword.
Cheongpung Geombeop, Fourth Form: Yeonhwan.
A simple low sweep in the original form, but Chohee drove the wooden sword deeper, slamming into the back of Mujin's left knee—the most vulnerable hollow there.
Crack!
"Kuhuk!"
Mujin's leg buckled, forcing him to his knees. Pure evil faction brawling, targeting only joints and acupoints. No internal energy meant no fatal blows, but the pain felt like shattered bones, nearly knocking him out.
"Y-You mad bitch…! Is this Wudang's sword?!"
Mujin wailed, tears streaming. He tried to muster internal energy too late, but Chohee's precise pummeling of his acupoints left no gap for it.
"Oh dear! Sorry, martial brother! My sword control is still so clumsy—it must've gone a bit off!"
In real combat, the ones nitpicking that crap die first.
Her inner thoughts were the total opposite, but she had to at least pretend to apologize.
From there, it was one-sided carnage. She stuck strictly to Cheongpung Geombeop forms. But the wooden sword always pierced the nastiest spots where bone met nerve.
It was just evil faction torture techniques for loosening tongues from tight-lipped foes, cloaked in Wudang's Cheongpung Geombeop.
The thrilling impact traveled up her arms. Each dull whoosh brought beastly screams from Mujin.
Seorin and Hwaran, watching with bated breath, flinched and stepped back, but once unleashed, Chohee's hands showed no mercy.
"S-Spare…! Martial uncle! Martial uncle!!"
Mujin, a bloody mess, stretched toward his master with a scream. Only then did Chohee, half-lost to reason, pause.
Oh crap. Got too carried away.
She hastily withdrew her sword, feigning heavy breathing as she returned to her spot.
No matter how it looked like Wudang's Cheongpung Geombeop, those trajectories were pure brutal evil faction swordplay. That horrific monster couldn't have missed the shallow deception.
Did he notice? What if he lops my head off right now?
Chohee finally glanced at her master.
"You stopped well, Chohee."
The low, calm voice from behind made her flinch. The master walked slowly past her to gaze down at the fallen Mujin.
"Heh heh, Mujin. This is how terrifying carelessness can be."
…Carelessness?
Chohee held her breath. No way that monster missed the deliberate strikes. He was covering for her despite seeing it all.
Then, softly to Mujin: "Still, you held back your internal energy to the end, worried your martial sister might get hurt. This old man is deeply moved by your consideration as a senior. I won't mention this to the other elders."
Goosebumps erupted across Chohee's skin. Mujin was a pulp, sure, but his mockery had crossed the line big time. Even playing the reclusive elder, covering for that…?
The master approached the groaning Mujin on the ground, patted his shoulder a few times, then leaned in to whisper something low in his ear.
What on earth did he say? In those brief words, Mujin's face twisted. He staggered up, bowed awkwardly to the monster, and limped away from the Training Ground like he was fleeing.
Big trouble. Big trouble. Big trouble. Big trouble.
Her rash act had backfired. As the master watched Mujin's retreating figure with a pleased look, then turned slowly toward her, Chohee's legs nearly gave out—but she held.
His large hand rose slowly toward her.
I'm dead. Payback for forgetting my place and rampaging—my head explodes right here!
As Chohee squeezed her eyes shut—
Swish.
The master's broad palm gently ruffled her sweat-matted hair.
"You did well, Chohee."
"…Pardon?"
"Thank you for mustering your courage for this master's sake."
The master gave an enigmatic smile.
"Seeing you all so desperate, this master can't just sit idle."
He said no more, just patted her sweaty shoulder affectionately a couple more times. Then, hands behind his back, he hummed a tune as he left the Training Ground.
Alone now, the worst conclusion crystallized in Chohee's mind. She'd drawn outside attention with her screw-up, forcing the monster to act fast.
Harvest before the livestock pen gets exposed!
The pigs in the pen mustn't catch the owner's eye. Only by cowering in the corner could they evade the blade. She'd forgotten: eyed pigs end up butchered horrifically.
Despite Seorin's endless warnings not to stand out, her petty temper had shattered the fragile peace of this pen.
"Th-Thank you…."
The horrific realization that her impulsive violence had hastened her own doom made her voice tremble toward the monster's fading back. Tears finally spilled.
Once he vanished from sight, the world spun, and her body collapsed. Seorin and Hwaran rushed to her side on the ground, but Chohee heard nothing.