We’ve Already Come Too Far (4)
"Haha."
"Yes, sir!"
Dang Soso bent her knees a little lower. Dropping into a stance like a wildcat poisoned by venom, she drove her black sword straight for her opponent’s throat with merciless intent.
Clang, clang, clang!
The man barely managed to throw up his guard in time, and a deep look of dismay crossed his face.
It was never easy to bring out one’s full ability in real combat. Unlike when you could keep a calm heart and swing your sword in training, a fight to the death always stirred the blood.
Your blade might take your opponent’s life, and theirs might take yours.
To demand the same composure in such a situation was, honestly, asking too much.
And yet a swordsman had to meet that absurd standard all the same.
"Relax the strength in your wrists. Put strength into your toes."
"Yes, sir!"
If she couldn’t keep her mind steady, then she would at least keep her body as it should be. That was far better than some clumsy sermon about grit and willpower.
Dang Soso steadied her slightly ragged breathing.
I’m still not good enough.
The other disciples had held swords since they were children. Even if Chung Myung had completely overturned Mount Hua’s training methods, that didn’t make the years they had already spent training disappear.
Un Geom, too, had valued the fundamentals, and those years of practice were still alive in their swords.
But Dang Soso was still only in the process of laying down the foundations of her swordsmanship. No matter how exceptional her talent was, and no matter how intensely Yu I-seol and Chung Myung taught her, she still had a long way to go before she could catch up to the others.
So that’s why.
That was why she did not grow impatient.
Trying to leap over the senior disciples in one breath would be arrogance toward herself, and disrespect toward them. Not a single disciple of Mount Hua neglected their training, and not a single one took the sword lightly.
Whether it takes ten years or twenty, I’ll catch up someday.
One day, Chung Myung had said that among the plum blossoms blooming on a single plum tree, not a single flower opened at the same time as another.
Some bloomed early, some bloomed late, but blooming late did not make them any less beautiful.
Do not resent blooming later than the others.
Dang Soso’s sword slowly began to gain poise. Her movements were still swift and sharp, but the impatience that had lurked inside them was gone.
"Good."
Yu I-seol whispered softly as she took one step to the side.
The distance they opened between them was only a single step. But that step was Yu I-seol’s trust in Dang Soso as a fellow swordsman.
Sago.
Understanding the meaning of that distance, Dang Soso bit her lip hard.
To say she would guard her side did not simply mean protecting her.
The daughter of the Tang Family.
The physician of the Medicine Hall.
She was all of those things—but she was not merely any of them.
I’m a swordsman of Mount Hua.
The tip of Dang Soso’s sword caused an immature plum blossom to bloom. It was not clear, and it was not resolute. But awkward as it was, it was unmistakably a plum blossom.
No matter how many hundreds of millions of plum blossoms bloomed in this world, not one would be the same. And right here, right now, Dang Soso’s own plum blossom was blooming for the very first time.
The corner of Yu I-seol’s lips twitched.
For someone so devoid of expression, it was nothing short of a huge smile.
But only for a moment.
Whoosh.
Yu I-seol’s feet skimmed over the snow.
There was no reason to force her own sword to stand still just to watch the newly bloomed plum blossom. She, too, was still lacking. Opportunities to temper a sword in real combat did not come easily.
Unlike Dang Soso, her sword path was soft and graceful as it flew toward the startled enemies, seeming almost to embrace them.
Slash! Slash!
Her sword, as gentle as moonlight brightening the dark, slipped through the gaps in their guard as though teasing them.
Elegant simplicity.
Her sword resembled her, and yet it was different too.
It was simple, yet gentle; sharp, yet unhurried.
"Aaagh!"
With a soft push, she brushed aside a sword thrust that had been raised in desperate defense, then slid up along her opponent’s shoulder blade and cut down swiftly across the shoulder.
Slash. Slash.
With two cuts across the wrist and knees, she rendered her opponent helpless in an instant, then moved forward with a blank face. Her sword never stopped for even a heartbeat.
To anyone watching from afar, it was a terrifyingly beautiful sight. But to those who had to take those blows with their own bodies, it was fear itself.
One sword, one life.
As Dang Soso was left dazed by that fantastical swordplay, Yu I-seol’s cool voice pierced her ear.
"Focus."
"Yes, sir!"
Dang Soso gritted her teeth and rushed after Yu I-seol.
The one who had to protect that back was none other than Dang Soso herself.
"...What in the world?"
Gojin-ak’s eyes trembled violently as he looked around him.
They were being pushed back.
No, it wasn’t even that—they were being overwhelmed completely.
How could something like this happen?
He had spent a great deal of his strength racing all the way here, but even so, was it really possible to be driven back so one-sidedly by a handful of brats?
Of course, this did not necessarily mean defeat.
They outnumbered them by a huge margin, and as long as those people were human, there was no way they could hold out against so many enemies forever.
And yet the fact that they had lost the initiative so completely, even if only for a moment, left Gojin-ak stunned.
Was Mount Hua really such a powerful sect?
He had barely even heard the name before.
But he could not dwell on that thought any longer.
Whoosh!
A sword was already flying toward his face, and no one in their right mind could keep thinking about anything else in that situation.
Gojin-ak yanked his head to the side in alarm. But he could not evade it completely, and a long cut split his cheek as blood ran down.
The burning pain, like a brand pressed into flesh, seared away his distraction. Gojin-ak quickly twisted his body and reset his stance.
"I’m not weak enough to worry about something else."
"..."
Baek Cheon fixed his gaze on him with a cold face.
"You should be thinking about yourself before your subordinates. Otherwise, you’ll collapse before they do."
Gojin-ak’s face went cold at that.
"That’s enough of your insolence."
"With respect, I’ve never been insolent. I’m merely stating facts."
"You..."
His insides scratched raw and then seemed to turn over. Gojin-ak gritted his teeth and drew up his inner power. Frost quickly began to cling to his sword.
"I’ve changed my mind. Even if you surrender, I won’t let you live!"
"Doesn’t seem like anything’s changed. I never intended to surrender in the first place."
"You bastard!"
With a furious shout, Gojin-ak lunged forward and thrust his sword.
Despite his enraged face, his blade was calm—more than calm, it was chillingly cold. Seven strands of sword energy shot out toward Baek Cheon in an instant.
They aimed simultaneously for his face, abdomen, both shoulders, and legs.
But.
Swish.
Baek Cheon was not one to take it lightly either. His sword tip flickered lightly, and then more than a dozen flower buds blossomed in the air.
Clang! Kakakang!
The flowers blocked the incoming sword energy with pinpoint accuracy.
It was not flashy. It did not strike at the enemy with savage ferocity. It was simply the right defense—nothing more, nothing less. The most efficient sword strike, with not a single wasted motion.
"Kuh!"
Gojin-ak’s sword refused to stop as it cut across the air.
Like a blade of winter wind, his fierce sword energy tore through the atmosphere and crashed toward Baek Cheon. He slashed, stabbed, and swept, as if he meant to annihilate every drifting snowflake in front of him.
Cold Sword, Breaking Snow.
It was Gojin-ak’s most trusted technique, the ultimate art of Glacier Twelve Forms, the sword doctrine of the North Sea Ice Palace.
The sight of pale white sword energy raging through the air looked like a white storm had been set loose.
But not a trace of fear appeared in Baek Cheon’s eyes.
No.
No matter how ornate or complicated the technique, this was not enough to satisfy his eye.
Look closely.
Inside that raging storm of sword energy, there were tiny gaps scattered everywhere.
This is all?
That bastard’s sword was different.
It scattered sword energy so overwhelming it could not even be compared to this, yet there was not a single opening anywhere. Compared to the despair he had felt when facing that sword head-on, this did not even make a hair on him move.
Baek Cheon forcefully drove his sword forward, pouring in his inner power.
Swiiish!
The sword, filled with white light, pierced through the storm of sword energy like sunlight breaking through clouds.
"Gah!"
Seeing a white blade suddenly forcing its way through the sword storm, Gojin-ak startled and rolled away.
He tumbled through the snow several times before coming to a stop, then stared at Baek Cheon in disbelief.
He had evaded Baek Cheon’s sword in the most humiliating way a martial artist could, but right now shame did not exist in his mind at all.
Only a vague sense of confusion filled him.
How?
He had crossed swords with countless opponents, but this was a first. Even when he had faced stronger enemies, he had only been suppressed by greater power; never once had his technique been broken apart by a single sword strike.
After swallowing hard, he sprang back to his feet.
This was not a duel. And even if he asked, there was no reason to think the other man would kindly explain it to him—nor any guarantee that his own neck would still be attached by then.
He threw away any remaining contempt for his opponent, clenched his teeth, and charged again at Baek Cheon.
"You bastard!"
Baek Cheon’s eyes grew cold at the sight.
One of Maninbang’s vice-leader level?
No. Not even close.
The Ice Palace might not be weaker than Maninbang, but at the very least, Gojin-ak was not at that level.
This isn’t enough.
He needed a stronger opponent. If he was going to grow any further.
So then—
Whoosh!
Before Gojin-ak could even arrive, Baek Cheon’s sword energy shot toward him.
Clang!
"Hngh!"
A heavy blade of qi slammed into his sword with enough force to threaten to snap his wrist.
Clang!
Once more!
Clang!
And then once again.
The momentum of Gojin-ak’s charge began to falter.
Then—
Flash!
With a sound like wind rushing in, hundreds of plum blossoms blossomed before his eyes in an instant.
"Ah..."
It was truly a dazzling and majestic sword technique. Gojin-ak was left dazed for a heartbeat—only a heartbeat, a fleeting instant barely worth mentioning.
And Baek Cheon did not miss that instant.
Swiiish!
A bolt of lightning fell through the falling plum blossoms. The sword that pierced through the flowers struck Gojin-ak’s blade with such speed that it sent it flying out of his hand before he could even blink.
The sword soared into the air, spun end over end, and then sank helplessly into the ground.
Thud.
Gojin-ak stared blankly at the sword buried in the snow, no longer in his hand.
"You..."
Crunch.
By then, Baek Cheon’s sword was already pressing into Gojin-ak’s shoulder.
Baek Cheon’s cool eyes and Gojin-ak’s bloodshot ones met in the air.
"..."
"I learned a lot."
Thump.
With Baek Cheon’s words of thanks, Gojin-ak dropped to one knee.
Baek Cheon casually flicked the sword he had drawn through the air.
Slash.
Blood clinging to the blade scattered across the snow.
Baek Cheon glanced once at the fallen Gojin-ak, then stepped forward.
"Next."
When Baek Cheon said it so calmly, the Ice Sword Squad all flinched and took an involuntary step back.
"T-the vice-leader..."
"He’s strong... too, too strong."
Having completely seized the momentum, Baek Cheon advanced quickly with the air of a man determined to finish his opponent off.
"..."
From a little distance away, Chung Myung watched the Mount Hua disciples in action while awkwardly stroking Baek Ah.
"Dong-ryong won... Yoon Jong-sahyung and Jo Gul-sahyung are doing well too... Yu I-seol-sago goes without saying, and Soso is doing fine as well."
Well, then.
In that case...
"...I’ve got nothing to do."
Normally I’d fight for a bit, and then when I start getting pushed back, I’d make my grand entrance and go, ‘Ta-da.’
No, wait.
"Did I raise them too well?"
Left without a role to play, Chung Myung slowly crouched down where he was. Then, looking a little dejected, he muttered, "I should’ve brought something to eat."
Just sitting around makes it cold.
Ugh, it’s cold.