Chapter 28. To Eat or Be Eaten? (2)
Han Bin said,
"Rest."
"Pardon?"
"I said rest."
The warriors exchanged puzzled glances, and So Daeseop stepped forward as their representative.
"Rest? What do you mean, my lord? Didn't you say you'd teach us the first way to grow stronger?"
"Resting when it's time to rest—that's the first method. Rest now! But..."
Han Bin trailed off.
Seeing him hesitate like that, So Daeseop, standing at the front, lit up with anticipation. He knew the real key was coming next.
Satisfied with that gleam in his eye, Han Bin continued with a smile.
"Remember this: when I call assembly, training begins."
"Understood. We shall obey."
So Daeseop replied with a crisp fist salute, and the men behind him echoed in unison.
"Yes, my lord!"
"Yes, my lord!"
Turning away indifferently at their shout, Han Bin took a few steps before pausing.
He looked up at the sky and muttered to himself.
"The moon's especially bright tonight."
A cryptic smile played on Han Bin's lips.
Dawn, at the Mangho Squad barracks.
Moonlight filtered through the window cracks, illuminating the bunks.
There, the men lay sprawled like corpses from exhaustion.
Everyone except the youngest warrior, Jo Ho, who hadn't slept a wink all night.
He was buzzing with excitement over the strengthening method Han Bin had promised to teach.
If he could just become a first-rate warrior, his future would be paved with gold.
Marrying his village sweetheart and settling down in a cozy home wouldn't be a distant dream.
Unthinkingly, Jo Ho caressed the silver he'd received from Han Bin.
But soon enough, his overtaxed body rebelled. Instinct overrode his curiosity, and his eyes drifted shut.
He was just on the verge of smiling at his sweetheart's beaming face in his dream when—
Ding!
Ding!
A sharp chime rang out right by his head.
The sudden noise triggered his warrior instincts, jolting him awake.
Jo Ho's eyes snapped open to a bizarre sight.
Someone had slipped into the Mangho Squad barracks and was banging away on a gong while prowling around.
"What the...?"
Even So Daeseop couldn't finish his sentence.
The gong-banger was none other than Cheolno.
Ding!
Ding!
"Assemble at the training ground. By order of the young master."
Still sitting there dazed and staring at Cheolno, So Daeseop blurted,
"Why would the young master call us at this hour?"
"What's going on?"
"Did something happen to the young master?"
The youngest, Jo Ho, clambered out of his bunk too.
As the squad stirred with murmurs, Cheolno grinned brightly and added,
"The young master only said to assemble."
Every eye in the room sharpened at that word.
Assembly—that's what he'd said.
But Jo Ho alone couldn't shake the fog from his mind.
I should've gotten at least a little sleep... I'm gonna collapse at this rate.
Habit took over. Jo Ho threw on his training robes and dashed to the training ground.
The moon still hung high, bathing the silent grounds in silver light.
It was like a landscape painting sketched on ice.
So Daeseop took position at the front, with Jo Ho unexpectedly right behind him in the front row.
They stood there, chilled by the pre-dawn wind, waiting for Han Bin to appear.
After time enough to sip a cup of tea, whispers rippled through the ranks.
"What's this about? Is Cheolno pranking us?"
"Or maybe the young master's messing with us?"
"Shh, what if he hears?"
"Yeah, really."
Jo Ho said nothing, just stared blankly at the ground amid the murmurs.
The last few days of overwork had piled up fatigue, and tonight's excitement had kept him from even a wink of sleep.
He regretted staying up all night with eyes wide open.
Now he was too exhausted for his eyes to even close. Dream or reality? He couldn't tell.
Then—
A familiar voice cut through the group on the training ground.
"Does this look like a joke to you?"
It was unmistakably Han Bin.
Jo Ho looked up toward the voice.
There stood Han Bin in his striking red training robes, arms crossed, scanning each man one by one.
As shock rippled through the group, Han Bin spoke.
"You don't even know how many comrades you have, or who's snuck in among you..."
He seemed ready to launch into a full lecture, but instead fixed the Mangho Squad with a piercing glare.
They had no rebuttal.
It wasn't like they'd all worn the same color for camouflage—this was flashy gear, and they'd missed it?
Impossible.
Of course, the truth was Han Bin's unrivaled skill at masking his presence, second to none in the Central Plains.
As their jaws hung slack, Han Bin capped it with a sigh.
"...Hoo."
That edged sigh made the Mangho Squad warriors gulp audibly.
Thud. Thud.
Han Bin strode up to So Daeseop and halted.
"Squad leader, you're out!"
So Daeseop scurried behind him at the command.
With So Daeseop sidelined, Han Bin approached Jo Ho in the front row.
The squad's eyes gleamed eagerly, but the youngest looked like a half-dead fish, lifeless.
Han Bin smirked, spotting his chance.
Standing before Jo Ho, he recalled the Yongrin Sword Art application verse.
Jeon-gwang-seok-hwa!
His sword flashed out in a blur.
The master-forged blade, colder than the dawn chill, hurtled toward Jo Ho's eyes.
It was so fast the onlookers couldn't even track it.
Whoosh!
The sword halted inches from Jo Ho's face.
But Jo Ho didn't so much as flinch.
Not from courage.
He was too sleep-deprived to even stand properly.
In a way, it was Jo Ho's lucky break.
Seeing his dazed expression, Han Bin's lip quirked up. He murmured low.
"Jo Ho passes!"
At the call, Jo Ho shambled forward from the line.
Han Bin continued,
"If the runt passes, anyone who fails better brace themselves."
Jo Ho, barely keeping his eyes open, slapped his own cheek sharply.
He finally grasped how serious this was.
Whoosh!
Han Bin's sword stopped before the next front-row warrior's eyes.
The man blinked and recoiled.
The rest swallowed hard, awaiting Han Bin's word.
They didn't yet understand what his actions meant.
Sheathing his blade, Han Bin bellowed,
"Can you call yourselves swordsmen if you fear the blade? Fail, and you hit the dirt first!"
The training ground erupted in murmurs.
Last night, Han Bin had promised to make them strong.
To teach them how to never lose in battle.
And now this—bow or bust?
Mouths agape, they stared at him.
Jo Ho, who'd passed first and now watched, was the most on edge.
He was antsy as hell.
His fluke pass as the baby of the squad meant the veterans were catching extra heat.
And from up close, Han Bin was utterly unpredictable.
The thrust at the first guy hadn't been that fast or menacing.
But who wouldn't blink with a sword tip incoming?
Especially with zero hesitation!
Under Han Bin's fierce gaze, the first warrior dropped forehead-first to the ground.
Without pause, Han Bin lunged at the second.
Same deal.
He skipped the Jeon-gwang-seok-hwa on the rest—not out of mercy.
No point wasting Yongrin Sword Art energy on training fodder.
As the aligned warriors flinched, Han Bin called back the sidelined So Daeseop.
"Squad leader."
"Yes, my lord."
Even So Daeseop's voice was crisp. Han Bin asked flatly,
"Do warriors blink with a blade before them?"
"No, sir."
"Can eyelids block a sword edge?"
The grounds fell silent.
Block a blade with eyelids? Absurd.
But how do you not blink with steel at your eyes?
An awkward hush hung, then So Daeseop barked,
"No, sir!"
"What does closing your eyes mean when the blade comes?"
"Suicide!"
The answer emerged from their exchange.
Han Bin meant: don't blink at all before the blade.
"Flinching at steel means you're no warrior. Fails get no grub today."
Murmurs swelled again.
Undeterred, Han Bin's sword sliced the air once more.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Only Jo Ho, the very first, passed the test. He berated himself, wishing he'd just bowed and joined the line.
Standing unscathed felt awkward as hell.
So Daeseop, trailing Han Bin, felt the same unease.
But survival meant dancing to Han Bin's tune.
So Daeseop yelled at his dumbfounded subordinates left in Han Bin's wake.
"Everyone, bow!"
Thud!
Han Bin's face lit with satisfaction at So Daeseop rolling the ball himself.
And so the first day's training began.
Back at the barracks after training, the warriors' eyes were bloodshot, veins burst red.
As they changed, gripes poured out. The eldest, Jangsan, spoke up.
"Ain't this overkill?"
"Tell me about it."
Another chimed in. Jo Ho, who'd been nodding quietly in the back, jumped in.
"Even I think this is too much. He's the young master, sure, but..."
"Yeah, no need to shout. We get you're pissed."
Jangsan patted Jo Ho's back.
Whether the veteran Jangsan or rookie Jo Ho, they'd come here for the pay, nothing else.
Wanting strength? For the money. Grinding on? For the money.
Opportunity had dangled last night, sparking brief hope. But after this "training," doubts crept in.
Is this the right path?
Jangsan clenched his fist, ready to bolt if needed. Jo Ho nodded beside him.
The next afternoon.
Han Bin lounged in a chair, idly holding a book. Naturally, his eyes were on the Yongrin Sword Art formulas floating in the air.
Cheolno burst through the door in a panic.
Creak.
"Young master, big trouble!"
"What kind?"
"That lady's boy assembled a new guard squad."
"Hm."
Han Bin tapped his temple.
Seemed Lady Jeonghwa's influence was at work. Guard squads were easy to form with cash.
But a dispossessed young master reforming one meant dipping into personal funds—likely from Lady Jeonghwa.
"And the new guards include several experts from the Henan Jeong Family."
Han Bin's eyes narrowed.
Jeong Family experts? Sword users, no doubt.
Swordsmen guarding a Paeng Family scion?
It felt like Han Bin had handed them the perfect excuse.
With a sword-wielding heir candidate, they couldn't block picking swordsmen as guards.
"Bringing in maternal kin makes sense, I suppose."
"Not just any—Peak swordsman Yi Mu-myeong's here too. They've sharpened their blades."
"Hm."
Hacking a cough, Han Bin dredged up memories from his past life.