Presence of a Warrior
It could be called coincidence, but it was only possible because of Woo-gang's intense efforts up to that point.
Manipulating internal energy and manifesting it were entirely different matters.
Moving energy as needed was something anyone could do once they learned the knack and got used to it, but manifesting it required a certain level of enlightenment.
Not everyone who learned a cultivation method could use sword energy.
It was that difficult, yet once Woo-gang grasped the feel, he adapted swiftly.
Shrieeek!
Woo-gang's spear shot forward with a sharp whoosh of air.
Not only the power loaded into it but also its speed were on another level entirely from before.
The air, pushed back by the spear's might, churned violently, whipping up a gale.
Whoosh!
As Woo-gang lightly relaxed his grip, the spear spun fiercely in his hand.
Grab!
In that instant, he stepped forward, shortened his grip on the spear, and swung it wide.
Whirrr!
The spear traced a large circle in his palm, sweeping from left to up, then to the right.
Woo-gang gripped it tightly again—the spear that had spun without slipping from his palm—and lightly leaped into the air.
Twisting his body mid-jump, he slammed the spear down.
Boom!
The ice on the ground shattered into fragments, scattering everywhere.
Recovering the spear as it rebounded from the floor, Woo-gang spun around and thrust swiftly at the opposite side.
Crack!
Stabbing hard into empty air, the thin frost clinging to his spear shattered with a resonant ring.
It was the result of Woo-gang exploding his internal energy all at once in that thrust.
Knowing when to distribute energy steadily and when to burst it forth with full force—that was the core of energy manipulation.
"Huff! Huff!"
Woo-gang breathed heavily.
He was adapting quickly, but executing forms still demanded greater focus.
And with such intense movements, his stamina drained accordingly.
"Now you've got some real presence."
Yeom Si-woo approached, speaking as he did.
"Presence?"
"Yes. Presence."
Yeom Si-woo looked at Woo-gang.
His expression, his stance, the aura radiating from his entire body.
He now exuded the atmosphere of a proper martial artist.
No ordinary person would dare pick a fight with or approach him carelessly.
Thinking back to when they first met, this was an astonishing change.
"We call the process of learning martial arts cultivation. But what soldiers do, similar as it is, we call training. Do you know why?"
"Not really."
"Training is about repetition and mastery. Martial arts go beyond that—it's cultivating body and mind. That's why we call it cultivation."
"Ah...."
"You're the same. Through spear cultivation, you've built up energy in your body and tempered your flesh. In that process, you shook off many painful memories from your past. Your body, mind, and spirit have grown healthier, and that naturally shows on the outside. That's presence."
Presence...
Woo-gang mulled over the word.
Suddenly, strength seemed to surge through his body, and confidence welled up.
"Now you're ready to start sparring."
Woo-gang's eyes lit up at Yeom Si-woo's words.
"Are we starting now?"
"Yes. It's time. You can handle it."
Woo-gang clenched his fist tight at Yeom Si-woo's affirmation.
It's starting now.
Though Woo-gang had a tender heart, as Han Si-rang had said, a competitive spirit was steadily growing within him.
***
Clink.
Han Si-rang set down his teacup.
Sitting across from him with an impassive face, Yeom Si-woo held his own cup.
"I figured the talk would come up soon."
"Were you expecting it?"
"How could I not? Not just me—the entire Bing Palace knew. You're actually later than I thought."
Yeom Si-woo looked surprised at Han Si-rang's reply.
"No need for that face. With training that flashy, how could we not notice? Rumors spread fast."
"I see."
Yeom Si-woo gave a faint smile and a short reply.
"Weren't you aiming for that? To spread word of your disciple's skill."
"Not exactly aiming for it, but...."
"So you were."
Han Si-rang frowned as he spoke.
As he said, Yeom Si-woo had revealed much while sparring with Woo-gang.
Even though he could have trained more quietly.
There was no reason to hide, and he wanted the Bing Palace warriors facing Woo-gang to give their all.
"Anyway, he's impressive. Growing by the day."
"That's what exceeded my expectations."
"Exceeded them?"
"Yes. I didn't expect such rapid growth. Maybe we can shorten his training time here."
"Hm... We'll discuss details later. So, what's the plan?"
"Same as before."
"You sure? Beyond the hardship, he could get hurt."
"No sparring without risk of injury. And real combat means winning against enemies in tough spots."
"Still as brutish as ever."
Han Si-rang chuckled dryly.
But Yeom Si-woo was serious.
Woo-gang had been injured and collapsed countless times in training, yet never skipped a single day.
As he said, unless something broke, the sparring would continue.
"One more thing."
Han Si-rang paused as he reached for his cup.
"Something to add?"
"Yes. Make it a wheel battle."
Han Si-rang frowned at Yeom Si-woo's request.
"Wheel battle? You never did those yourself. Isn't that too much? We have time."
"It's fine. Do as I say."
Han Si-rang had no choice but to accept Yeom Si-woo's confident tone.
The two discussed the schedule a bit more before parting.
***
Five days had passed since Yeom Si-woo and Han Si-rang talked about the sparring.
On a usual morning, after circulating Hyeoncheon Yeolhwa Singong and opening his eyes, Yeom Si-woo called to Woo-gang.
"You'll spar with Bing Palace warriors today."
He tossed it out casually, without elaboration.
The sparring was a crucial first step in Woo-gang's training.
Yet Yeom Si-woo spoke of it like just another minor addition to his routine.
"Got it."
Woo-gang's reply was equally nonchalant.
Though he'd eagerly awaited this sparring and must have questions, he answered as indifferently as Yeom Si-woo.
Woo-gang brushed off his rear and stood, picking up his spear from the side.
Cultivation of Hyeoncheon Yeolhwa Singong, then spear forms.
The same rigid daily routine.
But Woo-gang's eyes held a subtle difference from usual.
Swoosh!
His movements as he swung the spear lightly grew more deliberate.
Yeom Si-woo glanced at the earnestly training Woo-gang and picked up his teacup.
The cold tea steamed anew.
After the morning session ended,
Yeom Si-woo led Woo-gang somewhere.
No words needed—he knew it was for sparring.
Unlike morning, Yeom Si-woo's demeanor felt heavier now.
They arrived at the spacious sparring ground.
A good crowd had gathered around the large platform.
Han Si-rang and Han Seo-yeon, plus leaders and some members from Bing Palace units, formed ranks.
To them, it was a major event of great interest.
The atmosphere was grand and formal, not casual sparring, yet Woo-gang showed no surprise or pressure.
He'd sensed the subtle vibe since Yeom Si-woo first mentioned it.
And whatever the setting, he thought: focus on the foe before you, give it everything.
"You're here. Need time? We're ready."
"Give us a quarter-hour."
Han Si-rang nodded knowingly at Yeom Si-woo's words.
"No need. Let's go now."
But Woo-gang stepped forward, spear in hand.
"You sure?"
"Yes."
Woo-gang nodded.
Yeom Si-woo, who had meant to give time to loosen up, trusted him and nodded back.
Then, from the Bing Palace side, one man stepped out.
A warrior from the Snow Shadow Unit's reserves.
Bing Palace had selected skilled reserves who could serve as full members anytime.
The two faced off, bowing slightly as eyes met.
Woo-gang took stance right after.
Once both were ready, Han Si-rang's voice rang out.
"Begin."
Thud!
His opponent kicked off first.
Low stance, charging fast.
Clearly intent on seizing initiative from the start.
Swords flashed in rapid swings as he closed in.
Dazzling swordplay to bewilder the eyes, but Woo-gang didn't flinch.
His deep gaze fixed on the onrushing foe.
Step.
Then Woo-gang moved.
One powerful step forward.
Force from the ground traveled up his leg, through waist and arm.
Flawless motion.
His spear, laden with that power, thrust straight ahead.
The flashy assault seemed laughable as the spear pierced the gap precisely.
He caught the opponent's startled face,
Crack!
And the air grew heavy, as if holding breath.
Crackle!
Cracks spiderwebbed across the sword tip-pierced blade.
Shatter!
The sword exploded into fragments, unable to withstand.
Yet the spear's force remained undiminished.
The opponent's legs lifted clean from the platform.
He floated briefly, then crashed down.
To onlookers, it all unfolded in slow motion.
As if time itself warped.
Though the bout ended, no one made a sound.
One strike.
A basic thrust, nothing more.
And it was over.
In the stunned arena, only two remained calm: Yeom Si-woo and Woo-gang.
Just as Yeom Si-woo had said at first.
Thrusts and swings alone could defeat the reserves—and Woo-gang proved it with his body.
Woo-gang withdrew his spear and straightened.
Staring straight ahead impassively.
Yeom Si-woo hadn't said, but Woo-gang intuited: this one bout wasn't the end.
Come at me, anyone!
His unarrogant confidence overwhelmed the arena's mood in an instant.
Then, another stepped forward with a hardened face.
Whoever it is, full power.
Woo-gang steeled himself inwardly.
Behind him, Yeom Si-woo stood serene, emotionless.