The Glorious Final Lesson

The last lesson was perfect. Sword and liquor, and friends to share them with—all gathered in one place. How could it not be a joy? Even if I had to send Teacher Gold on his way afterward, that was all the more reason to pour my heart into every single moment.

"Teacher Gold. Take a look."

I swung the sword wrapped in killing intent like a brush, treating Gold Ragol's body like a damn test paper. Let's see if it's sloppy or brilliant in your eyes, what needs fixing—go on, grade it.

Kagak! The blade, dyed red with murderous intent, scraped across his prosthetic arm.

"How is it?"

"For something mastered in such a short time, it's impressive. But that's all!"

But.

"In the end, that just makes it no better than invisible sword qi! ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Shape up!"

A swirling attractive force like crashing waves erupted from Gold Ragol's hand. He condensed the moisture around him into one spot, then hurled it at me like scattered spray. Water droplets rained down from all directions, as if daring me to block even one.

Infused within was the dense water qi he'd sucked up with the Heopseongdaebeop.

I could deal with it. Reverse-suck the water qi with my own Heopseongdaebeop, or scatter it with Somagic to strip its control and power.

But this was a deathmatch and a test of what we'd each learned—no room for tricks.

Still, I couldn't block that with Jeongjungdong's blade form alone. Time for a little gamble.

Ha-yeon tensed her legs and stepped into an arcane footwork.

Her body flickered for a moment, then she appeared tumbling awkwardly forward. She brushed the dirt from her lips and muttered.

"Nope, that won't work."

Gungsin Tan-yeong was still too crude, unlike Jeongjungdong. No control over landing spots—far from battle-ready.

I-hyeong Hwan-wi was sealed too.

Stuck fighting with just my fledgling Jeongjungdong, huh?

"Hup!"

Gold Ragol charged like a shot, bull-like without even using inner energy.

"Hahaha!"

His massive hand shot toward me, fingers wriggling with the pull of swirling waves, eager to grab.

Spotting his intent, Ha-yeon's eyes narrowed.

"You bastard."

Going for another round with that infiltration meridian he'd crushed me with last time?

"Dream on."

I smacked away the hand sucking at my energy with my sword. He recoiled as if he'd anticipated it—but had to leave his pinky behind.

Staring at the empty spot on his right hand, his expression turned strange.

"Couldn't see it."

"Why do you think I swung it?"

Another chop whistled through. Teacher Gold twisted his waist to dodge, but a shallow gash bloomed on his side.

Jeongjungdong was perfect for screwing with distance sense. Safety and danger? All guesswork, instinct only.

As if cornered, he burst into laughter.

"Kuhaha! No one shy of opening their upper dantian could counter that!"

"Gotta get close to use Heopseongdaebeop, right? Can't come at me now?"

"Exactly!"

"Told you—apply suction like gravity. Or like magnets with pull and push, and the versatility skyrockets."

"Tried it. Didn't work."

"Same here. Jeongjungdong clicked after endless swings, but footwork? Nada."

An invisible red arc whipped out. Gold Ragol, unable to adapt to the constantly shifting distances, retreated repeatedly. His bold gambles kept failing, costing him his left arm.

I freely adjusted the unseen blade's angle and length; he just waved from afar, summoning waves with his hands. No wonder.

If those waves had physical force like my Heopseongdaebeop, it'd be tricky—but he hadn't reached that level.

Remote absorption via Heopseongdaebeop seemed the limit of what he'd learned from me.

"What now?"

Kaduduk! My blade grazed his harpoon.

Teacher Gold swung his lone remaining arm's harpoon, sucking in ambient energy with Heopseongdaebeop. Prepping something big.

To preempt it, I'd need a big swing and close the gap inevitably.

And that could play into his hands.

So I held back the finisher.

He was the one who needed to roll the dice, not me.

Plus.

"Show me."

I was curious how far he'd come. Might as well use everything he'd learned in this brawl.

Above all, I could feel it.

He hasn't shown his all yet.

And as that thought hit, his arm bent—he hurled the harpoon at me.

Throwing his last lifeline? Insane?

I smacked it away with force, sending it flying far. He exploited the gap with a kick, swelling my calf—but disarming him was a huge win.

"Kuhaha! Come on!"

If he hadn't pulled the distant harpoon back to his hand.

His face lit up as he gripped the returning weapon. I clapped and chuckled too.

"Congrats, Teacher Gold. That's more like it."

"Heh! Damn tough. But this king pulled it off!"

His options exploded geometrically. Throw the harpoon from range, then dive into the gap as I dodge or block, forcing close-quarters Heopseongdaebeop.

Totally flipped from when I'd toyed with distance earlier.

I deflected harpoons maximally, smoothly flowing past his charges, stacking wounds steadily.

And each time, the killing intent coiling my blade tip felt a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠bit more supple.

A few more swings, and I'll have the feel.

"Kraaah!"

Battered Teacher Gold thrashed and hurled his harpoon. I parried with longer, smoother intent.

"Hyat!"

But he was growing mid-fight too, absurdly. He didn't just retrieve—instead, his body flowed toward me like a surging wave.

True to his wave-interpreted Heopseongdaebeop, he'd mastered repulsion first, not attraction.

"Good. Let's keep going."

I swung. His body floated briefly, then twisted at inhuman angles, lunging.

I widened the gap. But he was faster.

"Where'd that momentum go?!"

"Hold on. I called it—it'll come."

Retreats and checks repeated, and soon I realized I was backed into a corner.

Momentum lost.

"Haaap!"

Gold Ragol calmly herded me to the wall. The moment my back hit stone would end it.

Like he'd innovated, now I needed a breakthrough.

"Hahaha! Entertain this king more!"

Pushed and pushed. Each step back disordered my stance and breath; minor cuts accumulated.

Finally, one step from the wall—Ha-yeon's back met the cave stone.

"Here I come!"

He threw the harpoon to seal it, charging simultaneously.

Block the harpoon? Swing and eat the follow-up grab.

Other way around too. Checkmate.

But do you know?

"Me too."

Invest defense into offense—the moment of peak vulnerability.

Kaang! Harpoon met sword, both ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠rebounding.

Ha-yeon and Gold Ragol's forms reflected on the flung blade's surface.

Launched by the massive clash, we rocketed forward—no contesting who first—thrusting hands at each other.

"Hahaha!"

"Kuhaha!"

Crossing hand blades.

And.

Pusak! Blood streamed from the backs of hands.

Drip. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Drip.

"Huh."

Blood flowed. Gold Ragol stared wordlessly at his bisected forearm—no, the Earth Prisoner Star, chuckling hollowly.

Ha-yeon's arm had sliced his hand and arm, then pierced straight through his gut.

His voice—admiration? Resignation?—opened.

"You can now wrap it around your hands too, not just the sword. Grew in the fight, did you?"

"Kinda strays from Jeongjungdong—Stillness in Motion—huh?"

"Told you. All supreme subtleties are beyond words. Just labels for convenience—what you wield is the Jeongjungdong the world calls it."

"Still, doesn't it stray too far from the name?"

Jeongjungdong. Silence of Motion, right? When did wrapping killing intent on sword and body become silent?

...Or is it? Yeah? Martial arts are a mystery—you get it, then you don't. That's the fun.

Ha-yeon eyed his cleaved forearm. Despite the mess, it regenerated on its own.

Yokai? Or cursed sword kin?

My earlier-severed left arm twitched on the floor too.

Eerily ominous thing.

"Cough. My royal master."

"What."

"Master Jeongjungdong, but I-hyeong Hwan-wi and Gungsin Tan-yeong too—no matter what, learn them. Gotta know how to counter."

"Planning to."

Staggering Teacher Gold straightened his legs. His gaze fixed unwavering on me.

That proud bearing—impossible to think death loomed. Refreshing, almost.

"Strike."

"Good work. Last words?"

"Kuhaha! This is the peak of my life!"

Today, I lost a teacher.

"Haa..."

"What is it, my liege?"

"Slave."

"Yes."

"Who's gonna drink with me now?"

"Excessive drinking harms the body."

We were aboard a boat now. Not just us two, of course. Oryeong and Yuryeong too, that rude black kitten Namgoong Ryeon, Moyong Dan, Hwangbo Jung—tons of assorted captives.

We'd boarded one of the water bandits' ships. Couldn't swim that muddy torrent bare-bodied.

One tiny snag, though.

"Outta all these people, not one who can sail?"

No one among us knew boats. No navigation know-how—we just hoisted sails and shoved off into the river.

Well, river or sea, drifting with the current should hit civilization eventually. But it felt... empty.

"At least we killed the rest of the bandits."

"Yes. Per your orders, we dumped the bodies in the Changjiang where no trace remains."

"Yeah, whatever. Who's gonna know what went down here now?"

We'd killed everyone who might remember us. No revenge possible.

As long as stories matched.

"Everyone gets it, right? Especially you, Namgoong."

"Hmph. Obviously."

This incident was grave. Kidnapping highborn heirs, plus a plot targeting martial secrets like strategic weapons.

Obviously, kill everyone but Slave and the kids to seal lips—or no covering it up.

But.

"Leave me out when reporting to parents."

"Reporting? We're not kids."

"Namgoong."

"..."

"Good girl."

I petted Namgoong Ryeon's head. That rebel streak at her level just wouldn't bend.

"Other friends too? Report to family elders, but skip me or embellish. 'Mysterious master helped,' that sorta thing."

"Must you? Boosts your fame, earns favors from great clans."

"Want martial arts? Gimme."

"Impossible."

"Then no interest."

Some'd ignore my request and blab anyway. Secrets gain value precisely 'cause they're broken.

I love that philosophy.

"When I need, I'll collect the debt."

Like piggy-banking favors—use 'em when ripe. If not, no real tie from the start.

Chasing debts everywhere? Tacky.

"Sigh."

What really churned my gut was elsewhere.

"What's wrong, hubby?"

"Yuryeong. Why won't life go my way?"

In Ha-yeon's hand: a book.

Yongcheong's eyes gleamed, spotting it instantly.

"Martial manual, my liege. From the Water Bandit King? What you wanted?"

"Take it."

"May I?... My liege? Odd name, though. Budong Myeongwang Gyeong."

"Sigh."

Yongcheong and the sisters exchanged glances. Her sighing over the rail screamed disappointment.

Yongcheong skimmed the manual, nodding.

"Excellent art. Footwork rivals supreme techniques. As a tantric secret, expected—but how it reached the Water Bandit King remains a mystery."

True enough. The unique art that elevated Gold Ragol to bandit king—its power went without saying.

A Hwa-gyeong peak chose it as main for good reason.

But.

"So what? Another dud."

Budong Myeongwang Gyeong covered external/internal training.

Complete with forms from various arts. Solid performance.

But.

"Arms last time, now legs?"

Couldn't cultivate its inner art. Clashed with Somagic and Heopseongdaebeop.

Fine, but.

Just punches and kicks? That's it?

"Sigh."

Should've known when that water thug rampaged with his harpoon.

Ha-yeon's sigh drifted down the Changjiang.