Martial Arts Exchange (4)
Martial Arts Exchange (4)
Chae-aeng!
The two swords clashed in midair. They were Training Swords with dulled blades for practice, but the material was the same steel as a Live Blade.
With the swords colliding with the same weight and material as Live Blades, sparks flew in all directions.
Every time those sparks flew, faster. Even faster. The swords flew toward each other's vital points.
'Fast.'
Dojin, who had exchanged five bursts of Sword Energy in an instant, pulled back for a moment and glanced down at his hand. Thanks to the repeated powerful clashes, his palm was trembling.
Kkuuuk, he gripped the hilt tightly to stop the shaking. Dojin looked at Sa-young. Those annoyingly elongated eyes stared back at him.
'Dirty swordsmanship.'
That was one way to sum up Sa-young's swordsmanship in a word. Dirty swordsmanship. And in the world of skill, "dirty" was as high a praise as it got.
It meant it was so hard to counter that no other word came to mind.
The Snake Sword flying in trajectories no human could produce, based on the freakish flexibility and Super Strength of a snake Beastkin.
It could be called an Illusion Sword for deceiving the viewer's eyes, or a Fast Sword for its overwhelmingly quick speed.
One thing was certain: it was a superhuman swordsmanship that followed a completely different path from any swordsmanship on Earth.
'Fun.'
Yeah, this was what he wanted.
This was the kind of fantasy that surpassed imagination.
Sa-young saw Dojin's trembling hand and let out a smirk.
"Having a tough time?"
"Tough, my ass."
Cheok. He pointed his sword downward at Sa-young. Their power levels were even. But he was behind in flexibility and speed.
As expected, it was martial arts made for the strong to slaughter the weak, just as Hoyeon had said, built on overwhelming physical prowess.
'Doesn't that bastard ever get tired?'
Dojin huffed out breaths and stared at Sa-young. Maybe because he was a Beastkin, his breathing was erratic, making it impossible to read his rhythm from the start.
'Let's test your guts.'
The sword tip pointed straight at his opponent stabbed forward. Dojin figured Sa-young would parry it or ride it up for a counter.
He knew over dozens of ways to respond to that counter.
But Sa-young's sword drew a semicircle and flew in. Despite that, it arrived faster than Dojin's sword and struck his wrist hard.
Dojin stepped back slightly and let out a hollow laugh.
'Reacts late but stabs first? Fuck....'
His wrist that had clashed with the sword started to sting. Even as he tried to twist it, binggeul, it wouldn't turn properly.
Staring at his left hand that felt like it was paralyzed, Dojin looked at Sa-young. He was grinning slyly back at him.
Those elongated eyes narrowed even further. That already punchable face became even more loathsome.
"Hand not moving right?"
Sa-young twirled his sword around as he spoke. Dojin tried to ignore him, but pretended to listen intently to buy time for his wrist to recover.
"Of course not. It's my specialty."
The swordsmanship of the snake clan was vicious, cunning, and hid sharp daggers. Sa-young specialized in a school called the Poison Sword.
A technique that stabbed nerves to temporarily paralyze local areas. Victims slashed by the blade slowly paralyzed and died like they'd been poisoned, hence Poison Sword.
Of course, he didn't ramble on about it, but Dojin easily figured out what Sa-young had done.
"Really dirty swordsmanship."
"Everyone I hit with my sword says that. Then they drop at my feet just the same."
"That's 'cause your sword's really that dirty."
"Ha, isn't winning with swordsmanship the best? Pathetic, insulting me 'cause you think you're gonna lose."
"Nah."
He lightly placed his left hand, which wouldn't grip properly, over the sword hilt and squeezed hard with his right.
Then he took the exact same stance as before.
Sa-young tilted his head watching him.
"What're you doing?"
"Come at me. I'll show you what real beautiful swordsmanship looks like."
"Ha... unbelievable."
Seeing Dojin's stance, Sa-young changed his posture unlike before. He drew his sword like a bow, pointing the tip at Dojin.
It looked like he was clearly about to thrust, no matter who saw it.
"Huu...."
Dojin let out a light breath at the sight, tensing every muscle in his body. And in the next moment, he exploded.
"Ha-at!"
At the same time, Sa-young's sword thrust toward Dojin. Definitely insanely fast. Dojin couldn't keep up with that speed.
'No need to keep up.'
Since when did humans build strength to match stronger foes head-on? They maximized what they had, finding ways to overpower with weaker force.
Same here. No need to match an opponent's speed just because they were faster.
'Can't track it with my eyes.'
He couldn't match the speed. Even thrusting first, Sa-young's sword arrived sooner. Straight-up clash was a sure loss.
But Sa-young couldn't perfectly control that speed either. If he could, there'd be no need to clash swords from the start. He'd just bat away Dojin's sword one-sidedly and land his own.
Yet Sa-young couldn't. Proof he didn't fully control his own sword's speed.
'I can predict where the sword's coming and thrust faster than that... but changing mid-way? Impossible.'
What he needed was prediction. Predict the sword path. Read the opponent's psychology, rhythm.
Even for bizarre swordsmanship with unpredictable trajectories, there was always a set path.
'Where are you aiming?'
Read Sa-young's thoughts. Analyze his psyche. Predict the sword path from his personality, habits, breathing, and behavior patterns.
For someone dirty, persistent, and vicious, it was obvious what swing he'd make.
'He'll target the spot he hit before...!'
The thrust look was a feint. His swordsmanship twisted every which way. So the sword flying in would hit the wrist.
Dojin thrust his sword. As he thrust, he twisted his wrist so the sword's ridge protected his left hand.
As predicted, Sa-young's incoming sword curved in a semicircle. The tip hit the ridge and bounced off.
"Crazy—!"
Startled, Sa-young tried to recover his sword, but it was too late. No matter how fast he was, he couldn't retrieve his already-thrust sword fast enough to block the incoming attack.
Pueok!
Dojin's sword struck his solar plexus. Keok, Sa-young, who hadn't exhaled once, let out a deep breath.
One hit couldn't subdue him. Sa-young quickly regained his breath and swung to force Dojin back.
"You bastard!"
His breathing was ragged. Hit once and excited, his shoulders and hands had excess tension.
'I see it all.'
The reason Sa-young's swordsmanship was hard to dodge wasn't just speed—it was the unreadable rhythm.
No breathing, no visible muscle movement. A sword like a snake bursting from the bushes.
But now, excited Sa-young was huffing breaths and swinging wildly with unnecessary force.
With his unique rhythm already read, his breathing and movements were plain as day.
Hwiiik!
"What the—why won't you—get hit!"
It was like Sa-young's sword was avoiding Dojin; every swing missed completely.
Dojin, who had been watching his sword intently, bounced it off once more and gripped with both hands.
"This is how you use a sword."
At the same time, Dojin's sword shot out sharply. Sa-young swung to pass Dojin's sword and target him, but....
Chae-aeng!
The moment his sword passed Dojin's, Dojin's trajectory snapped, bouncing Sa-young's sword and aiming for his nape.
"Kek!"
Sa-young, hit on the throat, staggered back clutching his neck. Dojin pressed forward, swinging.
Up then down, front then up, left-bound sword swinging from the right.
It was a sword that copied Sa-young's unpredictable trajectory swordsmanship to the letter.
"Th-that's!"
Sa-young barely blocked while retreating and yelled. The swordsmanship Dojin used was the snake clan's.
How could a mere human like that use it? How?!
But Dojin said casually,
"You were using it so poorly, I borrowed it for a sec."
"B-borrowed? Keuk! What kinda bullshit...!"
"Bullshit? Is that kind of discriminatory talk okay?"
"What nonsense—!"
Chaeng, Sa-young squeezed out all his strength to bounce Dojin's sword. In that instant, Dojin's opening gaped wide. Sa-young didn't miss it.
A full-power thrust shot out. No swordsmanship this time. Just pure speed thrust.
Seeing it, Dojin burst out laughing.
"Idiot."
Dojin, with his sword raised overhead, immediately assumed stance. The fastest, strongest strike in swordsmanship.
Upper Stance.
Head Strike.
Lightning struck in an instant.
He proved with his body that a semicircle could be faster than a straight line.
Jjeoeok-!
A massive sound echoed from Sa-young's head, and he crumpled to the floor. Dojin halted his follow-up and looked down at him.
"Stop."
Hoyeon, watching the spar, called out. Unlike her warning that they wouldn't stop even with broken limbs, both were fine.
...Though Sa-young's head was cracked and bleeding.
"Take him to the break room."
At Hoyeon's command, two watching trainees rushed over, hoisted Sa-young, and left. Hoyeon gave Dojin an approving nod.
"Next... Nam-woong. You?"
"Hoyeon, you stepping up yourself?"
"No. I'm just the overseer. Instead... my prized disciple can go, right?"
Hoyeon said that and pointed at Eunha. Eunha looked around in bewilderment.
Everyone was staring at her.
"I-I'll do my best...."
She shouted in a voice shrinking like a mouse and slowly stepped forward. Nam-woong also advanced, saying he'd go easy.
Hoyeon stood beside them, asked if they were ready, confirmed, raised her hand high, and shouted.
"Then, begin—!"
Eunha and Nam-woong's spar ended with Nam-woong's victory. It wasn't that Eunha lacked skill, but Nam-woong was on par with Hoyeon, so it was unavoidable.
"Your punches pack a heavy punch, miss. Keep at it, and you'll surely become a fine martial artist."
"...Th-thank you."
"No need."
Nam-woong said that and gazed at Hoyeon with affectionate eyes. Hoyeon, who had been directing cleanup after the exchange, met his eyes and approached us.
"You all staying the night?"
"Huh? Well... no real need to, but."
"Stay the night. These folks are leaving soon anyway, so today might be your only chance to talk."
Hoyeon said that to me and Eunha. The mansion was right there, but as she said, if not today, no chance to chat with the Beastkin.
I was curious about Nam-woong's martial arts too, and maybe I could pass on insights to Eunha, so I nodded.
Eunha, who had hesitated alone for a while, nodded quickly once I accepted and said she'd stay.
"I'll have you all tidy up the rooms, so chat in the meantime."
Hoyeon said that and left the dojo with her disciples in tow. In the narrow dojo remained me, Eunha, Nam-woong, and Ho-yang. Just the four of us.
Awkward atmosphere, pondering what to say first, when Ho-yang spoke to me.
"Hey. You married by any chance?"
"What? ...No. Why?"
"Good. That's a relief."
Ho-yang said that and started licking her lips. That sight was anything but reassuring.