Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Instinct Against Reason
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"Suddenly?"
Haien Jod's eyes widened in surprise at Hwan-in's sudden change of heart. That triumphant glint in her expression only hardened his resolve to wring some tears from those eyes.
I've gone out of my way to strike up a conversation out of curiosity, and this is the attitude I get?
I've been kind enough to humor her, and this is the attitude?
I've even offered to spar with her, and she rejects me with this attitude?
This was the attitude of Haien Jod, the woman who had gotten under Hwan-in's skin.
Hwan-in casually picked up a staff from the rack in the dojo, selected the one that felt best in his hand, and recalled some of the grip techniques and movements from the advanced spear arts instructor. He went through them a few times.
After repeating it a handful of times, Hwan-in grasped the basics and stepped up to an empty sparring ring.
To onlookers, it probably looked like he was just clumsily swinging the staff around like a fool. Indeed, Haien Jod, who had climbed into the ring, was furrowing her brow in an odd mix of disgust.
'That's the face of someone thinking it's all hot air.'
"Hey, nameless one. You planning to fight with that?"
At Haien Jod's remark, Hwan-in belatedly remembered his hooded cloak and took it off.
He'd forgotten about it because it was so comfortable.
Brillit approached just then, sweat beading lightly on her forehead after finishing her first match. He handed her the cloak, and she glanced up at Haien Jod standing in the ring before speaking.
"Lord Hwan-in, that woman is..."
"It's nothing. Mind the cloak for me a moment."
"Y-yes, of course."
As he approached Haien Jod in the center of the ring, staff in hand, she peered at his face with renewed curiosity.
"It looks similar to a Flo, but totally different. Are those ears your natural shape?"
"Are we sparring or not?"
"...Yes."
Haien Jod pouted at Hwan-in, who ignored her question and fired one back.
Hwan-in regarded her flatly.
Her aura was a touch denser than Brillit's.
Given that it matched the intensity of the advanced instructors around them, her skill level was probably similar—or perhaps higher, as the dojo master's daughter.
In the brief moment he pondered this, the surrounding instructors and trainees began gathering near the ring.
"Huh? Isn't that Miss Haien? Who's her opponent?"
"No idea. No aura, so probably an Unclassed. Guided match, I guess."
Hwan-in turned to Haien amid the murmurs.
"No regrets about whatever happens in the spar, right?"
"That's my line, but you beat me to it. Don't worry. The priest dispatched from the Beast God's temple is incredibly skilled. Even broken limbs heal in no time."
"Good."
Undeterred by Haien Jod's subtle warning about potential broken bones, Hwan-in gripped his staff and assumed his stance.
Whispers erupted from the crowd.
"Whoa, that stance is... Looks like she barely knows the basics of spear work."
"Why's the young miss bothering with someone like that? Just hand 'em off to Roan or Liesik."
"Probably piqued her curiosity. She can be capricious like that..."
To others, it looked like a total beginner clumsily mimicking spear forms—full of glaring openings in the instructors' eyes.
But to Hwan-in, it was the optimal stance for evading or countering attacks from every direction: up, down, front, back, left, right.
Only Brillit, who had sparred with her once, knew that stance was an impenetrable fortress.
And Brillit quietly sighed to herself.
To think even the advanced instructors can't spot his skill. Is training here really the right call?
"Ready?"
Haien Jod clapped her knuckled fists together with a sharp crack. Hwan-in nodded, and she exploded off the ground.
First things first, give that smug face a nice panda bruise...
Panda... bruise...?
'Huh. Why's the ground coming at me?'
Thud.
In an instant, her vision blurred as the ground rushed up. Only after face-planting did Haien Jod realize she'd been floored.
"What... what was that?"
"What just happened?"
"Why'd the young miss go down?"
"Just now... I think the staff hit her jaw."
Amid the growing buzz, Haien Jod muttered inwardly.
Hit in the jaw?
Still sprawled out, question marks swirling in her head, she noticed the staff tapping the ground in front of her face and looked up.
A black-haired man with an expressionless face entered her view.
"You alright? Shall we call it here if it's too much?"
That infuriating voice—clearly not thankful—rang in her ears.
"...!!"
Springing up like a coiled wire, Haien Jod flushed beet red.
"What sorcery was that?!"
Sorcery, from his perspective?
Hwan-in silently raised the staff's tip. Gritting her teeth, Haien Jod poured all her focus into him and charged.
And in the instant she aimed a lightning-fast roundhouse at the lanky man...
Crash!
Her balance shattered, momentum sending her tumbling messily across the ring.
"What was that?!"
"How'd the staff move like that...?!"
"Forget that—the timing of the attack...!"
"...???"
Haien still couldn't comprehend why she'd rolled again.
To others, it was clear: as she spun into a 360-degree kick, the staff struck her supporting knee.
But from her angle, the staff's trajectory was blocked by her own extended leg.
Only then did she feel the throbbing in her knee and realize what happened.
How?!
Her prized water-blue hair was caked in dust, but Haien stared at Hwan-in with deadly seriousness and assumed the Jod-style combat stance.
Her father's philosophy: once is chance, twice is certainty.
Haien Jod admitted it honestly. This man's martial prowess surpassed hers.
But I'm Classed. Time to show him the uncrossable wall between Unclassed and Classed!
"Not coming?"
"..."
Ignoring the provocation, Haien heightened her tension.
Left hand blade extended toward Hwan-in, right fist chambered at her side—ready to check or counter any assault.
This setup could parry and riposte from any angle.
"Then I'll come to you."
Hyper-alert, Haien questioned the man's leisurely stroll.
What? What's that mean?
Confusion at his casual gait was short-lived. Spotting the staff's motion, she gritted her teeth, slapped it away with her hand blade, and thrust her fist toward his chest...
"Guh!"
...or tried to. The staff slithered like a serpent, stabbing deep into her side. She gasped violently.
The gut-wrenching impact scrambled her internals; forgetting her footwork, she staggered back three or four steps, hacking and wheezing before dropping to one knee.
W-wait... Can't... breathe...!
Air wouldn't come. The deep side thrust felt like it grazed her spine, unleashing a storm of agony from her core.
She needed to call for a pause, but pain constricted her lungs, silencing her.
Hwan-in read her state perfectly—yet cracked the extended arm with the staff. Then drove the tip hard into her exposed solar plexus.
Thwack!!
Tumble-crash.
The blow sent her rolling backward several flips. Only then did her shrunken lungs expand, triggering a fit of violent coughing.
"Kuh-huhk...~!"
Clutching her gut, doubled over, each cough spewed tears, snot, and spit.
Breathing again was great, but her solar plexus throbbed mercilessly.
Lungs burned, guts felt shredded, spine tingled.
Forget the pain—how did his attacks land? Getting manhandled like a clueless noob was infuriating, humiliating enough to bring tears.
"..."
"..."
"..."
The crowd froze in shock.
Who was that woman rolling endlessly across the training ground?
Haien Jod.
A genius of fist-and-kick arts, Awakened as a striker, broke past Rank 7 and received her surname from Rank 4 Ho tribesman Aldjin Bere.
Inheriting her father's blood thickly, Wayford's prodigy—Rank 5 striker at just 17.
And that Haien Jod was getting toyed with like a child by an aura-less Unclassed, left groggy?
"How? Why's an Unclassed's attack working on a Rank 5 Classed?"
"Real sorcery?"
"Nah, no sorcery vibe."
Chaos gripped the spectators, as if the impossible had occurred. Haien Jod, refusing to crumple, endured the pain, stood, and reset her stance.
Thwack-thud—crack!
"Eek, kyak!"
Crack—snap, crunch.
"Hngh... agh!"
Boom!
"Kk."
For ten minutes, she got beaten like a stray dog in spring.
"S-stop... stop! I... I yield... it hurts!"
Just before her surrender, Hwan-in smacked her crown with a sharp crack, then finally lowered his staff. She collapsed, arms shielding her body and head, sobbing pitifully: "Hic... ku-hngh."
Not a spot on her body was pain-free. Her scalp burned like scalding water had been poured on it.
This pain piercing a Rank 5 striker's outer defenses was utterly foreign.
Haien Jod was Classed too. She'd taken plenty of wounds: bones broken sparring her father, near-death from heteromorphs in labyrinth drills.
But this agony was on another level.
Like her bones were splintering into shards.
Amid the tangled mess in her head, one thought crystallized.
Wasn't it that she was the clueless pup who didn't know her place in the heavens?
But did he have to beat her this badly?
I never even got it this rough from Dad!
Tears welling with resentment, Haien Jod flinched with a shrill "Eek!" as Hwan-in approached stone-faced.
Ten minutes to others; a hundred to her, under his pummeling.
Time enough to engrave the terror of pain in her mind.
Gazing down at the terrified Haien Jod, Hwan-in spoke.
"Haien."
"..."
"No answer?"
Thud. He planted the staff. She jolted, murmuring softly.
"Y-yes."
"How do you feel?"
"..."
"Not great, I imagine. You've realized the world doesn't revolve around you."
"I... I..."
"Your father's glory is his, not yours. Outside his influence, you're powerless."
"..."
"The world doesn't cater to you. At your young age, with that aura, you're still just a tiny cog in the grand scheme. Same for me."
Straight talk she'd never heard before; Haien Jod swallowed hard.
"So remember this day. Rudeness begets violence—and that violence might cleave your tiny head like an axe."
She stared blankly at his retreating back.
I never thought I was the center of the world...
But his words rang true. She'd lived freely under her father's shadow.
Pain lingered where she'd been struck, but new anguish flooded her chest.
Humiliation.
The crowd's stares felt like blades. She wanted to crawl into a hole.
Hwan-in returned his staff to the rack, ignored the dojo master's piercing gaze from the 5-meter dais, took his cloak from Brillit, and left.
Instructors and trainees stared too, but he paid them no mind, exiting Haiyern Advanced Dojo with Brillit.
"Soul—no, Lord Hwan-in. Is this alright? Beating the dojo master's daughter like that..."
Brillit voiced her worry the moment they stepped out, but Hwan-in brushed it off.
Over a hundred watched his daughter get dog-walked.
If he were the doting type, he'd have intervened. He hadn't.
A pragmatist would appreciate the 'lesson' for his daughter, considering his position.
If petty, Hwan-in would counter accordingly.
"The Haiyern Dojo Master won't start trouble."
Haien Jod's parting gaze held resentment but no hatred or rage—and a flicker of interest.
'Though I did lecture her like an old fogey after the beating.'
"...Then why leave the dojo?"
"His constant staring got on my nerves. Lingering would've drawn pests. Nothing left to learn anyway."
"I... see."
Still, thrashing that insolent girl felt damn good.
On Earth, it'd get him canceled, but here? No issue. Light mood.
That said...
'A Rank 5 warrior's body is that tough?'
From midway, he'd aimed to break bones—cracks formed, but nothing snapped.
Isilite proved Classed bodies superior, but this extent?
Simulating a Rank 5 fight mentally, Hwan-in decided to probe Brillit for more Classed intel.
He addressed her trailing behind with a complicated expression.
"Sorry for dragging you out before an hour on that pricey training fee."
"No, it's fine..."
"Instead, spar with me briefly at Ssa's mansion on the way back. Accept as my apology?"
Her ears perked at the offer. Swallowing her refusal, Brillit bowed deeply.
"Thank you! I look forward to it!"
After that, Hwan-in never visited Haiyern Advanced Dojo—or any dojo or training hall.
If the top dojo was that level, nothing more to see.
Dojo master? No desire to tangle with that monster.
Watching his spars might help, but he was symbolic, untouchable. A month straight, and you'd never catch him in action.
He'd gathered most spear info anyway. Just swing it occasionally now.
The next day, Hwan-in wandered the central streets, observing the city and collecting common knowledge.
What to do if injured and where to go; inter-village travel; status-based eateries; adventurer/traveler consumables and sources; elite/noble etiquette; status hierarchies; horse rentals/purchases; item prices; hot topics; city images; factions; customs; religions/gods.
Daily life basics from busy streets, mealtimes at inns, worker haunts, taverns.
Labyrinth/Classed specifics from Wayford's beast god temple (like a sex arts guild)—via donations and priest chats.
Temples drew labyrinth delvers, mercs, adventurers; lobby-sitting netted basics.
West labyrinth prep, gear maintenance, explored floors, enemies, delving methods—from delver hotspots via eavesdropping.
Nights: hotel-recommended high-end brothels for girls and underworld tales.
City notables; Aldjin Bere's character; hot issues; underworld groups; west labyrinth horrors.
Not just that, though.
"First time at a place like this?"
"First with your customs. Came from far off—short on local sense."
"Figures. Your looks are exotic. Anyway, you asked about contraception? Top brothels like this manage it strictly."
"Strictly how?"
"Like, a girl deliberately getting knocked up by a rich patron for concubine status. Heh."
"Can't rule it out."
"Right. So buildings have anti-pregnancy spell arrays etched in."
No kids from sex inside, supposedly.
Old days relied on girls' methods; high-status visits sparked gold-digging schemes nonstop. System overhauled.
"Ten years back. Now patrons relax, we skip risky drugs. Some girls were bummed, though. How's it done where you're from?"
"We... men and women handle separately. Men sheath in thin, stretchy, transparent stuff; women use pills."
"Sheath? Even thin, like wearing clothes? No feel, just pain for her?"
The glossy auburn-furred cat-eared maiden grinned cat-like, draping over his chest.
"Thinner than hair—believe that?"
"No way! You'd reuse it tons?"
Disposable? She gawked harder. Over her shoulder, her lynx tail swished into view.
Reaching, he stroked it—soft fur tickled between fingers. Meticulous care evident.
"Nyaa~ My tail's not for just anyone..."
She rubbed her breasts coquettishly against his chest.
"Shall I call another girl?"
"No! It's my turn tonight? Hehe... Still raring to go. Then... hn."
Gripping his pillar, aiming, she sank her hips.
The thick, heavy meat rod parting her depths made the cat-eared girl flick her ears twice, moaning.
Lower mouth welcomes, upper doesn't—this was high-end brothel pride. But the catgirl ignored it, frog-leaping vigorously while passionately devouring his lips.
Hwan-in gripped her thrusting hips hard, matching her rhythm.