There’s a limit to how far you can screw with people! (4)
The sword flew in like a spear of light—fast, yet somehow graceful. It was the kind of strike that made one think of wind becoming a blade.
And yet, what made that sword dangerous was neither its speed nor its elegance. It was the thick, viscous killing intent steeped into it.
Ka-chak!
The flying sword collided with Chung Myung’s and was knocked aside. But Yu I-seol’s Plum Blossom Sword, as though she had expected exactly that, smoothly changed direction and scattered dozens of sword flashes into the air.
Chung Myung frowned.
A sword was something that remained at one’s fingertips. Sword qi, however, had already left the fingertips. That was why a bow could not be used in a bout; once an arrow had left the bow, it could no longer be controlled.
To unleash sword qi from the very start was, in the end, no different from declaring that one would win no matter if the opponent got hurt in the process.
"You little—!"
Grinding his teeth, Chung Myung swung his sword. He formed dozens of sword shadows in the air and shattered each of the incoming red flashes one by one.
"What the hell are you trying to do?"
What angered Chung Myung wasn’t the killing intent she was radiating, nor her sword strikes that showed no mercy.
It was the look in Yu I-seol’s eyes as she stared at him from behind those sword flashes.
That emotionless gaze that somehow still felt like criticism.
Whoosh!
Yu I-seol kicked off the ground and leaped.
Chung Myung’s eyes darkened. He had told her more than once that springing into the air was a bad habit. In the air, unlike on the ground, movement was restricted. There was no need to bind your own motion.
Shhaaaak!
The sword Yu I-seol swung in midair blossomed into dozens of plum blossoms. Not too many—just enough to shield her body.
But fewer didn’t mean less dangerous.
The petals fluttering through the air fluttered vividly, each one aimed straight at Chung Myung.
Fwaaaat!
From within those drifting petals, a sword laden with red qi raised its head like a viper and lunged as if to tear into him. It was like a snake hanging from a branch heavy with blossoms, ambushing anyone who passed beneath it.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the sword shot straight for Chung Myung’s throat.
Ka-chak!
Chung Myung angled his blade and let hers slip aside. At the same time, he threw his body backward to dodge the petals raining down on him.
But Yu I-seol had no intention of letting him off that easily.
Thud!
She kicked off the ground and closed in on Chung Myung as he tried to retreat. Then, as fluidly as painting a wild landscape on white paper, she carved through the air.
"Hm."
This time, Chung Myung’s sword clung to the side of Yu I-seol’s incoming blade and gave it a slight push. That tiny motion was enough to twist the path of her sword with absurd ease.
Whoosh!
Yu I-seol’s sword grazed just above Chung Myung’s head.
And because of that, his foot slammed directly into the flank she had left completely open.
Thud!
The impact felt like his organs were being wrung inside out, but the moment she took the blow to her side, Yu I-seol instead leaned forward, dispersing the force and using it to drive herself onward as she slashed down with her sword.
Chung Myung shifted sideways.
Ka-chak!
The sword, carrying tremendous force, carved a scar into the ground. In a spar between fellow disciples, such a strike—one that relentlessly hunted its target even at the cost of injury—would never have appeared.
"Haaah!"
A loud battle cry burst from Yu I-seol, a sound rarely heard from her. At the same time, her sword unleashed a storm of sword qi. Packed with enough inner energy to smash apart everything it touched, the red flashes poured toward Chung Myung without pause.
The red sword qi Yu I-seol created painted the black night.
Crack!
For an instant, more strength surged into Chung Myung’s hand on the sword hilt. A fiercer, more savage energy than before rolled through his eyes.
Kwaaaaang!
The incoming sword qi failed to pierce the dark Plum Blossom Sword he swung with brutal force and was shattered apart. But in that moment, Yu I-seol’s sword once again shook through the air.
The blade trembled so fast its edge blurred, and red plum blossoms bloomed in the air. In an instant, they multiplied into dozens.
Gradually Blooming Plum Blossoms.
The plum blossoms Yu I-seol created scattered with the wind. The petals flying like illusions came for Chung Myung’s entire body.
Deadly flowers.
It was the first time even Chung Myung had seen the Plum Blossom Sword Art bearing such murderous intent toward him. The corner of his mouth twisted.
Swish.
He adjusted his grip with a single sweep of the sword and moved slowly.
Then—
Fwaaaaaang!
His sword cut diagonally through the air.
A crimson line appeared among the petals surging in like a gale. The blossoms touched by that line distorted, and a wide gap opened.
Bang!
In that instant, Chung Myung kicked off the ground with explosive force and shot through the gap like a beam of light.
Yu I-seol had apparently expected this, too, because she charged toward him without hesitation. Then she swung her sword at his neck at a speed too fast for the eye to properly follow.
But this time, Chung Myung neither dodged nor redirected it.
Kwaaaaang!
His sword crashed head-on into Yu I-seol’s with terrifying force. Blood burst from Yu I-seol’s mouth in a red spray.
Thud!
Chung Myung knocked her sword away and rammed his shoulder into her solar plexus. Yu I-seol’s body flew back like a stone kicked from the ground, then crashed down.
Thump.
"…"
Looking at the fallen Yu I-seol, Chung Myung exhaled softly and said in a low voice,
"You’re taking the joke too far."
No matter the reason, no one could permit a disciple to bare killing intent and use assassin’s techniques against another disciple. Of course, she had done it knowing full well she still couldn’t beat Chung Myung even that way—but even so, that didn’t change anything.
Then Yu I-seol braced her sword against the ground and got back to her feet.
Her already pale face had gone even whiter, and a line of red blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
"Joke…"
Her face had already returned to its usual expressionless calm. She muttered the word and stared straight at Chung Myung. Then she asked quietly,
"How is it?"
"How’s what?"
"Me."
"…"
Chung Myung frowned, as though he didn’t understand the point of the question, then let out a sigh and answered.
"…Your sword is light. But if you fix that, you’ll be excellent. At your age, there’s nobody you can compare to."
"How is it?"
"…"
But the answer she gave him was the same question again.
Chung Myung’s face twisted slightly as he looked at her. Seeing that he had no further answer, Yu I-seol spoke first.
"Weak."
"…"
"Hopelessly."
At that utterly calm voice, Chung Myung chewed on his lower lip.
"Sago isn’t weak."
"Weak."
"No, Sago. I know what you’re trying to say, but Sago is—"
"Weak."
"…"
"Pathetically weak. It makes me sick."
Chung Myung was left speechless. There wasn’t a single tremor in Yu I-seol’s eyes. And because of that, he knew. She wasn’t saying this out of spite or stubbornness.
"You said it. We are your swords."
She might have said something like that when they fought Jang Il-so.
"Really? We were?"
"…"
Yu I-seol shook her head.
"You fought better. When we weren’t there, even more so. Back then, we were only in the way. Cumbersome… things you had to fight while protecting."
"Sago."
"Aren’t we?"
Yu I-seol’s eyes, fixed squarely on Chung Myung, were dark.
"In this fight, I couldn’t do anything."
"That’s because…"
It was a battle beyond Sago’s current level.
But Chung Myung couldn’t bring himself to say that out loud. He knew all too well how humiliating those words would sound to a swordsman.
Besides…
"Sago’s already getting strong fast enough. Almost too fast."
That was Chung Myung’s honest thought, without the slightest lie or concealment.
They were already stronger than the Plum Blossom Sword Saint had been at that age. Compared to the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, who had once carved out a path alone, they had laid down a foundation beyond comparison.
It was only that they still couldn’t fully draw out what they had, so their strength didn’t show as clearly as it should.
But Yu I-seol did not accept that easily.
"Not enough."
"Too much greed isn’t good either."
At that, Yu I-seol stared at him.
Meeting that look, a short sigh slipped from Chung Myung’s lips. Even though they had spent a long time together, he still sometimes found it difficult to guess what that expressionless Sago was thinking.
"Then when do I get strong?"
"…"
"Much later? Leisurely, in the Mount Hua you made with your own blood and pain?"
Chung Myung’s lips had gone rigid; he said nothing.
Clack.
Yu I-seol sheathed her sword and said,
"That’s meaningless."
"…"
"A fine sword you can’t use when you need it is worse than a dull blade that’s used on time. It’s just decoration."
Looking at Chung Myung with that blank face, Yu I-seol asked,
"Why are you scared?"
"Scared? Of what?"
"Why won’t you teach us?"
"I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m…"
"You didn’t teach us the sword art."
Chung Myung frowned.
"What are you talking about? I taught you the Plum Blossom Sword Art, and the Plum Blossom Sword Manual too…"
"Then."
Yu I-seol cut him off, as though she didn’t want to hear any obvious excuses.
"Why is the sword you use and the sword we use different?"
"…"
Chung Myung closed his mouth.
Because he too realized Yu I-seol wasn’t wrong.
"We learned how to fight, how not to lose our resolve, how to stand our ground. But…"
She slowly shook her head.
"That’s not a sword."
"…"
Chung Myung knew what those strange words meant.
Even if it was the same Plum Blossom Sword Art, his sword and theirs were different. His sword had been forged through battle, personally learned and absorbed in the crucible of real combat. Because of that, it was steeped in killing intent and cruelty.
But their sword art, though it had been refined for actual combat, still remained close to the original Plum Blossom Sword Art of Mount Hua.
That was why Chung Myung had pushed them hard without ever twisting the direction of their sword art.
"You’ve never once given us what you have."
"…It’s not that I didn’t give it to you."
"I want to make plum blossoms bloom."
"…"
"Not painted plum blossoms. Living plum blossoms."
Yu I-seol’s gaze drifted toward the distant night sky. After silently gazing at it for a while, she looked back at Chung Myung with clear eyes.
"I don’t understand."
"What?"
"Why you’re afraid."
Chung Myung’s eyes turned fierce.
Seeing that reaction, Yu I-seol let out a small sigh.
"We are only ourselves. I don’t know what you expect from us."
"…"
Chung Myung was silent for a while. Then he opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could, Yu I-seol spoke again.
"Sorry."
Apologizing to him, she lowered her head slightly.
"Everyone has their own circumstances. I know that too."
"…"
"…But if you won’t help me, I’ll do it alone. I’m not planning to become some brilliant sword that shines by itself after the war ends. That would just be a worthless decoration. What I want is a real sword. A real sword that stays where it’s needed, even if its edge is chipped and its body is cracked."
Her voice seemed as though unwavering resolve had been carved straight into it.
"Next time, it won’t happen again. I’ll protect you. I’m your Sago."
With that, Yu I-seol turned around. Then she walked away from Chung Myung without a hint of reluctance.
Watching her back go, Chung Myung’s face flickered with an expression far too complicated to put into words.
For a long while he simply stared in silence at the direction she had gone, then bit hard into his lip.
"…Scared?"
Me?
A bitter laugh almost escaped him. No, he had tried to laugh.
But no matter how he forced it, not even a trace of laughter came out.
Even when he looked up at the sky, Chung Mun did not speak to him that day.
Only the sound of the river flowing past the bank, and the faint chirring of insects in the grass, drifted on and on into the silence.