The Law of Combat (1)
“Heh.”
Jangsan laughed as if he’d given up on everything. He agreed with Jo Ho’s words.
He’d boldly signed up for the training, but his age was catching up—his stamina just couldn’t keep pace.
If you were a first-rate warrior surpassing the norm, your inner power would accumulate with age, making you stronger. But for a second-rate fighter without much inner power, getting older just turned you into a tiger without teeth—or rather, a cat without fangs.
Jo Ho continued.
“Uncle, think about it. If we’d gotten stronger, do you think Fourth Young Master would’ve beaten us like dogs in the dog days of summer?”
“Hrm.”
Jangsan cleared his throat at Jo Ho’s spot-on point.
Just then, groans erupted from here and there.
No one could sleep.
Those groans were agreement with Jo Ho, plain and simple.
But though everyone pretended to sleep, no one moved to act on it.
Jangsan stood up.
“Let’s go.”
He’d made up his mind too. Better to roll in a field of shit than stay here—even that seemed preferable to facing the grim reaper in a few days.
With that, the barracks door slid open smoothly.
Jangsan and Jo Ho were making their escape.
Watching their retreating backs, Jang Ja-myeong muttered to himself.
“A second-rate life’s a second-rate life, whether stuck in here or out there…”
Groans burst out again from all around.
“Ngh.”
Jang Ja-myeong quickly clamped his mouth shut.
Then one of the warriors whispered to him.
“Pretend you didn’t see nothin’.”
“Hrm.”
Jang Ja-myeong replied with a cough.
Glancing at the warriors’ faces, he saw pure regret etched there.
He smiled where they couldn’t see.
Could warriors with expressions like that win a spar?
This mission was a guaranteed success.
How much time passed? Just as Jang Ja-myeong was about to drift off—
Whiiing!
Whiiiing!
As always, ghostly wails leaked from the ceiling.
The most irritating thing about this place was those damn cries.
Jang Ja-myeong swiftly plugged his ears.
Then the barracks door creaked open again.
Creak.
The door swung wide against the backdrop of those eerie wails.
Behind it loomed an impossibly thick darkness that sent chills down the spine.
Probably the wind, Jang Ja-myeong thought, rising to close it.
That’s when it happened.
A black silhouette appeared in the doorway.
“Gah!”
Jang Ja-myeong yelped and fell on his ass. The silhouette spoke.
“What’s wrong, sir?”
As it stepped inside, the firelight revealed its face.
Jang Ja-myeong’s eyes widened. It was none other than So Daeseop, leader of the guard squad.
“Ah, Captain. What brings you here at this hour…?”
“Got an urgent patient. Brought him in.”
Jang Ja-myeong narrowed his eyes.
“A patient? Where?”
Cranning his neck around, he spotted So Daeseop’s right hand.
Dangling from it by the collar was a limp warrior.
“Right here.”
So Daeseop tossed the man down like a sack.
Jang Ja-myeong rushed over reflexively.
The face was unrecognizable—beaten far worse than the ones from earlier that day.
He swiftly bandaged it and smeared on some crushed herbs.
Finishing first aid, Jang Ja-myeong tilted his head.
Something about the build reminded him of Jo Ho, the one who’d just bolted for escape.
Then the door opened again.
This time, a female warrior dragged someone in.
Of course, it was Sim Miho.
“Gah.”
Jang Ja-myeong let out a cry.
Being dragged in was none other than Jangsan.
The two who’d fled half a shichen ago were back, reduced to rags.
Jang Ja-myeong asked So Daeseop.
“Did you do this, Captain? Even so, isn’t this a bit much?”
“Wasn’t me.”
So Daeseop shook his head. Jang Ja-myeong’s gaze shifted to Sim Miho.
“The deputy then?”
“Not me either.”
Sim Miho shook her head and nodded toward the back with her eyes.
Jang Ja-myeong’s gaze naturally followed to the darkness beyond the door.
For an instant, his eyes met those of a man flashing white teeth in the shadows.
He flinched.
Hallucination?
Those eyes were like an asura who’d severed countless foes on the battlefield.
Of course, the man was Han Bin.
Han Bin walked in slowly and stood before Jang Ja-myeong.
“Doc. Take good care of my men, yeah?”
“Y-yes, sir.”
Jang Ja-myeong unwittingly clasped his hands in respect.
As Han Bin left, Jang Ja-myeong tilted his head.
Was that really the awkward Fourth Young Master he’d met on his first day at Cheonsu Manor?
Just then, Jangsan and Jo Ho stirred with groans.
“Ngh.”
“Aigoo!”
Jang Ja-myeong hurried over at their pained cries.
And so the nights dragged on, the same routine for days.
A few days later.
Jang Ja-myeong’s face had turned corpse-like.
No blood in his cheeks, skin rough as well-worn cowhide from the battlefield.
The guard squad’s live combat training had done this to him.
Patients poured in day and night; even he couldn’t endure it.
But he couldn’t flee either.
Despite dosing the well with mountain emptying poison, the warriors’ inner power was mysteriously recovering bit by bit over time.
Solve that riddle, and the mission succeeds.
* * *
A week later.
As the promised sparring day approached, Han Bin and the guard squad left Cheonsu Manor.
Marching along the ridgeline, they resembled ants hauling food.
Among them, one ant lagged badly—Jang Ja-myeong.
Curious why the mountain emptying poison wasn’t working, he’d tailed them.
Following the squad up treacherous mountain paths, Jang Ja-myeong held his breath.
That’s when Han Bin up ahead shouted.
“Rest here, everyone!”
“Yes, sir!”
Shouts echoed in unison as the squad unpacked in a clearing on the slope.
All wetting their lips from waterskins, Sim Miho asked Han Bin worriedly.
“My lord, what’re our odds of winning this spar?”
“One in ten.”
“One in ten? But you told Captain So Daeseop it was three in ten last time!”
“Odds change.”
“We trained so hard—why’d they drop?”
“Well…”
“Ah, I know. Another secret, right?”
“Yeah, now Deputy Sim Miho gets me.”
“But seriously, one in ten? You know what happens if we lose this spar, my lord. I’m dead.”
“Don’t worry, there’s a way. Deputy Sim.”
“What way? Another secret?”
“Can’t keep secrets from you. It’s simple.”
“What is it, my lord?”
“If we lose, we run.”
“Ah!”
Sim Miho stared blankly at the sky.
That’s when someone shuffled up to Han Bin.
The youngest warrior, Jo Ho.
He clasped his hands formally.
“My lord, I request a spar.”
Despite the polite demeanor, Jo Ho glared murderously at Han Bin.
In his eyes, Han Bin was the villain who’d torn him from Lady Hyang-i. He itched to stab that cocky show-off just once.
But there was a problem.
The more time passed, the weaker his skills got.
His sword felt light, his body nimble—but against Han Bin, the gap only widened.
At first, he could graze a sleeve; now, even that was impossible.
Han Bin couldn’t have improved that fast, so Jo Ho figured his own level was dropping.
Reading Jo Ho’s glare, Han Bin said.
“Fine. Take off your mask first. Gotta be fair.”
Jo Ho ripped off the cloth over his face and stood ready.
“Yah!”
With a shout, he lunged like lightning.
Thwack!
In one exchange, Jo Ho crumpled.
As everyone gaped at the anticlimax, something even more absurd happened.
Jo Ho got back up.
He charged again, but Han Bin’s sword moved faster.
Smack!
Smack!
Han Bin’s blade pummelled Jo Ho like tapping a dried pufferfish.
Thud! Thud!
The squad’s jaws dropped. It looked like Han Bin was holding back just enough to let Jo Ho keep rising.
In truth, Han Bin was mining formulas—and he’d realized something about the process.
Formulas were harder to extract from an unconscious opponent.
Jo Ho, rising like a roly-poly toy, finally collapsed for good.
Thump!
Without a glance at the fallen man, Han Bin stared into empty air.
You have acquired Force (strength) from the Basic Section of the Yongrin Sword Art.
Basic Section
Speed (speed), Speed (speed), Speed (speed), Speed (speed), Speed (speed)… (10/10)
Body (Body), Body (Body), Body (Body), Body (Body), Body (Body), Body (Body)…
Force (Force), Force (Force), Force (Force), Force (Force), Force (Force), Force (Force)…
Merit (merit), Merit (merit), Merit (Merit), Merit (Merit), Merit (Merit)… (10/10)
Return (again)
Applied Section
Lightning Flash (Lightning Flash)
Touch (Touch)
Since arriving at Cheonsu Manor, Han Bin had made explosive progress.
Speed and Merit slots were maxed at ten each, no more room. Body and Force had visibly increased.
Only downside: no progress on the Applied Section formulas.
“Tch.”
Han Bin smacked his lips, and the guard squad warriors averted their eyes.
What lord beats his subordinates like that in a spar and won’t even glance their way?
And smacking his lips on top? Pervert for sure.
Then one warrior stepped forward.
Thudding steps—Jangsan.
Older than Jo Ho, but they got along like brothers.
Watching Jo Ho get pummeled had ignited his rage.
Like Jo Ho, Jangsan believed his own skills were regressing over time.
“I request a spar as well.”
“Granted.”
Sparring swords clashed through the mountains.
Clang!
Clang!
Of course, the result was the same.
Thump!
Several spars later, the clearing’s corner piled up with unconscious squad members.
As Jang Ja-myeong took in the sight from hiding—
Han Bin said.
“Doc, come on out.”
“Gah.”
Jang Ja-myeong gasped. He’d hidden his presence perfectly, yet busted.
Scratching his head, he emerged from the brush.
The squad erupted in cheers.
“The doc’s here to save us!”
“Yeah, only Jang Doc we can count on.”
“Thanks, Doc Jang!”
Some rushed to clasp hands; others hugged him.
He’d tailed them to lift the poison, but Jang Ja-myeong grinned sheepishly.
“Haha, no need.”
Before the laughter faded, Han Bin spoke.
“Look after my men, yeah? Training got a bit intense. They’re precious to me.”
Everyone’s jaws dropped again.
His words clashed wildly with his actions so far.
Then Sim Miho asked.
“What’re the odds now?”
“One in ten.”
“Ah.”
Sim Miho clutched her head.
This was her true fear.
If the squad lost, torture to death under this young master wasn’t impossible.
Sighing, she looked at Han Bin.
No tension on his face.
Strangely, seeing it eased her mind.