Midnight Spar

Deep into the night.

It was the hour when the Rat stood at its midpoint.

A presence stirred outside the guest room.

Knock, knock.

"I say, may I come in?"

Uncle Jinwoo?

Uncheon had known Namgung Jinwoo was approaching from the moment he heard the door open in the inner chamber. He rose and opened his own door to greet him.

"Please, come in."

"Sorry to disturb you at this late hour."

"Not at all. It wasn't yet time for sleep, so I was still awake."

"Is that so."

The two men sat at the low table beside the sleeping platform.

Though Namgung Jinwoo had long since left the clan, he still carried the pride of the Namgung Family deep in his chest. The moment he first heard the title Blue Stream Sword Fragrance, that pride had swelled warm and full.

"Uncle, it's late—I have nothing proper to offer you."

"Never mind that. After so long without seeing anyone from the clan, I simply wanted to talk."

"Have you married, Uncle?"

"I have not. Or rather… perhaps I simply never managed it."

"From where I stand, any number of women must have pursued you. Is there some trouble with your health?"

"Hahaha, nothing of the sort. When I was young I lost myself in martial arts, and the proper season slipped past. After that I found myself thinking, why bother settling down with a woman? And now that I am old enough to want it, who would marry me? Uncheon, my boy—if you find a good woman, marry her without delay."

"Haha, I'll keep my eyes open."

"A good woman can turn up in unexpected places, closer than you think."

"Heh. That much is true."

Uncheon answered with a faint smile.

They spoke of themselves for the better part of a quarter-hour. Even so, Namgung Jinwoo kept hesitating, as though something still weighed on his tongue. Uncheon knew what he wanted long before he looked into the older man's eyes.

Well, a martial artist can't help himself.

Uncheon waited in silence, refusing to speak first.

"I have one request—if it isn't too much to ask."

"Please, say it."

"Would you spar with me? Just once. I want to know what my martial arts are truly worth."

Namgung Jinwoo had learned the Great Yan Sword Art from his father; he longed to measure the difference between that version and the one practiced inside the clan itself.

"At this hour? Won't we make a racket?"

"Mm… if we climb the slope behind the inn there's an open clearing. That ought to do."

"Very well. We'll spar there."

"Thank you."

Uncheon rose, took the Blue Silver Sword from where it rested, and buckled it to his waist. Together they slipped out of the inn into the night.

The Great Yan Sword Art, learned first in childhood together with the Small Yan Sword Art, was the foundation and root of the Namgung Family's martial way. The clan could never dismiss it, for every higher technique had grown from its principles.

Those principles were the perfect harmony of Swift and Heavy. Yet depending on which aspect one emphasized, the art could become a blade of pure offense—or of iron defense.

Shrrring—

Namgung Jinwoo drew the Rising Sun Sword from his waist. The heavy-sword aura already clung to its keen edge.

"Haaah!"

He moved first.

The swiftest form within the Great Yan Sword Art.

A single stroke shot toward Uncheon's chest, seeking the advantage of speed. Namgung Jinwoo had no idea how fast his opponent's footwork truly was.

Whoosh—whoosh!

The moment Uncheon unfolded the Heavenly Wind Movement Art, he vanished from Jinwoo's sight.

So this is the Heavenly Wind Movement Art?

Uncheon's form disappeared—yet a surge of blue sword-qi erupted straight toward the Rising Sun Sword still extended forward. Blade-light flashed, and an explosion followed.

KWAOOOOOM—!!!

The blast of clashing energies was smothered by the surrounding space before it could fully travel.

Ugh.

Namgung Jinwoo threw up a hand to shield his face from the violent storm ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of force. His eyes never stopped hunting for his opponent, ready for the next strike.

Woooom—

A soft blue true energy slowly unfurled from Uncheon's dantian.

This aura… it is the Vast Sky energy of the Vast Sky Great Yan Divine Art, yet somehow it feels different…

Had anyone from the Namgung Family sensed that energy, they would have been stunned. They might even have suspected the long-lost ultimate heart method—the Unfettered Heart Intent Art. It was not the Unfettered sword-qi poured forth through the Vast Sky Unfettered Sword Art, but pure Unfettered true energy flowing from Uncheon's dantian itself.

Uncheon, unaware of any strangeness, felt nothing odd. While circulating the Vast Sky Great Yan Heart Method he had completed the small heavenly cycle and naturally entered the great heavenly cycle; he simply accepted the change in his energy as inevitable. By carefully widening the great cycle without forcing it, the transformation had gathered momentum of its own.

Namgung Jinwoo gathered every scrap of power, determined to unleash the Great Yan Sword Art at full strength.

I will pour out everything.

Woom-woom-woom-woom—

From the Rising Sun Sword the form of Great Yan Limitless bloomed. Dozens of sword-qi blades filled the air, seeking to cage Uncheon's every movement.

Pat-pat-pat-pat—!!

So this is the power of the Great Yan Sword Art when it leans wholly upon the principle of Swiftness.

Uncheon focused his mind—and answered with the Great Yan Sword Art of his own.

My Great Yan is the sword that seizes space through the principle of Heavy.

The Blue Silver Sword moved through empty air, crushing the opponent's domain with crushing weight.

Dududududu—

Both men, knowing the other's strength, drew forth every last drop of power. Toward the internal force Namgung Jinwoo had raised to its absolute limit, Uncheon's single stroke smashed down.

Offense and defense fused; the force of Heavy rose to block the enemy's energy.

I… cannot break through…

Facing that perfect heavy-sword energy—so different from his own Great Yan—Namgung Jinwoo understood he had lost.

KWAOOOOOM—!!!

For more than thirty yards around them the night exploded.

The inn was already buzzing at first light. Everyone was talking about the explosion that had shattered the midnight quiet.

When Yang Hui opened her door, Namgung Jinwoo was waiting outside her room. The martial robes that had been spotless the day before were now torn in several places.

"Hall Master, do you know what happened last night?"

"I stepped outside with him for a brief spar."

"Ah… I see. And the result?"

Yang Hui was curious. She had heard the Blue Stream Sword Fragrance's martial arts were formidable, yet she also knew the strength of Shangmu Hall Master Namgung Jinwoo could not be taken lightly. By pure experience she had expected him at least not to lose.

"He was remarkable. Had he not withdrawn his internal force midway, I would have been badly hurt."

The answer was nothing like she had imagined. Namgung Jinwoo spoke carefully.

"Young lady, his martial arts are truly strong. If he traveled with us, he would be of great help."

"…Did the young master not say he had his own affairs to attend to?"

"He did. Still—would it not be worth asking?"

Yang Hui considered his words. She knew full well that the mission she carried was no simple task. The greatest weakness of the Sangcheon United Kingdom was martial force. They had poured vast sums into building what strength they now possessed, yet even that was far from enough to recruit someone who already held absolute power. Such experts were rare to meet in the first place.

The martial might of any faction hinged on whether it possessed an absolute master. If even Shangmu Hall Master Namgung Jinwoo acknowledged the young man's skill, then his aid would be certain.

She fixed her gaze on Uncheon as she descended the stairs to the ground-floor hall. Uncheon rose the moment he saw her approach.

"Miss Yang, good morning."

"If it is no inconvenience, may I sit with you?"

"Please do. What will you have for breakfast?"

"Nothing, thank you. Only tea."

"I have heard celestial maidens drink nothing but morning dew. It seems the tales were true."

Uncheon poured her tea with a light joke. Yang Hui smiled, lifted the cup with both hands, and offered a polite nod.

"Thank you. I shall enjoy it."

They turned their faces slightly aside and drank.

"I heard you sparred with the Hall Master last night."

"Was it a little noisy?"

"I thought the earth itself was collapsing. Everyone in the inn must have woken."

"I tried to keep it quiet, yet the sound still carried."

"Heh. The Hall Master spoke highly of your martial arts. I would like to see them myself someday."

"There will be another chance."

"And… well…"

Uncheon watched her hesitant eyes. Whatever she wished to say was not easy to voice.

"Is there something you wish to ask?"

"I do not know where Young Master Uncheon is headed, yet… I wondered whether you might travel with us."

"Mm. I am not exactly idle."

"…"

"Still, out of curiosity—where are you going, Miss Yang?"

Yang Hui had no choice but to tell the truth. Of the two of them, she was the one who needed the favor.

"Tangshan… We have business for a short while in Tangshan of Hebei."

"All the way to Tangshan in Hebei. That is rather far."

"Isn't it? If you are headed in a similar direction, would it not be better to travel together?"

"It is a similar direction, yet… would it not be awkward to travel side by side without knowing each other's purposes?"

Namgung Jinwoo quickly interjected.

"Nephew Uncheon, if the road is the same, come with us. Better company than solitude—less lonely, less dull."

"Mm… if Uncle says so, very well. I will travel with you as far as Tangshan."

Yang Hui's face brightened.

"You ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠said the direction is similar—may I ask where you yourself are bound?"

"I intend to visit Myeongseon Palace."

The answer named an unexpected place—one of the greatest powers in the martial world. The First Palace, Myeongseon Palace, stood in Tianjin of Hebei.

"What business takes you there?"

"There is someone I know within Myeongseon Palace. Now that I have stepped into the martial world, I wish to meet them once and ask a few questions."

"How fortunate. Our roads happen to coincide."

Yang Hui was glad of the company—yet so was Uncheon. Through her he had already learned of Moyong Jeok's whereabouts. The intelligence held by the Sangcheon United Kingdom was proving more useful than he had expected.

"Then I should find a horse of my own."

"If Young Master Uncheon does not mind, you are welcome to ride in the carriage with me."

As soon as she finished, Namgung Jinwoo added,

"Do so. Finding a horse on short notice will not be easy."

"I am grateful for both of your offers, yet I would feel uncomfortable. Moreover, Miss Yang might suffer needless misunderstanding."

Uncheon rose smoothly to his feet.

"Please wait a moment. I will go secure a mount."

"Ah… yes. Of course."

Yang Hui watched him leave the inn with a faintly regretful expression.

Uncheon obtained directions to the stables from the inn servant. Fortunately a yard on the edge of the village still dealt in horses.

"This must be the place."

He arrived at a gate bearing the signboard County Horse Yard. Stepping through, he found a broad courtyard holding more than a dozen horses and a cluster of armed men. Their clothes were mismatched, each man dressed differently.

Wanderers? Or hired mercenaries?

The weapons at their sides were equally varied. Among the horses a middle-aged man regarded him with idle curiosity.

"Who are you?"

"I wish to buy a horse."

The man eyed the young stranger and the sword at his waist.

"I can sell, but every horse here has already been purchased by these gentlemen."

"All of them?"

"That is so."

"A pity. Is there another place nearby where I might buy a mount?"

"You would have to travel to the next village."

"I see. Thank you for telling me."

Uncheon was turning away with open disappointment when one of the buyers called out and stopped him.

"Hold a moment, little brother."

Uncheon turned. A long scar across the man's throat gave him a fierce air.

"Judging by that sword, you are a man of the martial world?"

"I am."

"If it is no offense, I would like to know your name."

The man was curious. The sword marked him as a martial artist, yet not the faintest thread of internal energy leaked from him.

To hide one's energy so completely requires at least the realm of Two Manifestations of Yang Light—enough to freely move true energy within the body.

By the face he looked barely past twenty.

"Forgive me, but is it not proper etiquette in the martial world that one first state one's own identity before asking another's name?"

"Hahaha. True enough. Still, I am older than you—surely I may ask?"

Uncheon cupped his fists toward the man.

"Of course a junior such as myself must not be rude to a senior of the martial world. Yet simply being younger does not oblige me to give my name on demand, does it?"

"Ah? Hahaha! Fair enough. I seem to have overstepped. You speak with such confidence—I find myself wondering whether your skill matches your tongue."

"You wish to fight me, then. If that is your desire, I will not refuse."

"Khahaha! It has been a long while since I met a young man who pleased me so."

The man's spirits rose. As a mercenary he had risked his life on countless battlefields. Ten years of war had earned him the name Undying Mercenary Godojin; even in the Central Plains his reputation was formidable. The Immortal Half-Moon Saber at his waist swayed lightly.

"I like a man with confidence!!"

Haah. Martial artists really do love fighting more than they love eating.

Uncheon had already read the man's intent.

Pat-pat!

The instant Godojin seized the Immortal Half-Moon Saber, two arcs of moonlight crossed and slashed toward Uncheon's chest from either side—the same dual cleave that no one on any battlefield had ever escaped.

What—!

His brows twitched. Somehow the young man had already stepped back; the blades cut only empty air.

Uncheon had known the attack was coming. Within the perfected Heavenly Wind Movement Art lay colorless body-energy that carried silence, shadowlessness, and formless killing intent.

How in the world…?

Uncheon's approaching figure seemed both visible and invisible at once. A chill raced down Godojin's spine—then a flash of blue sword-qi shot straight at his throat.

Twing—!!

Godojin whipped the Immortal Half-Moon Saber up again and again, only to be flung backward by overwhelming force.

"Huh!"

He stared at the saber lying on the ground and let out a hollow laugh of pure disbelief. Looking up at Uncheon, he asked once more,

"Just now… that felt like the heavy sword of the Namgung Family."

Godojin finally understood. A young master who wielded heavy-sword energy—there was only one such name circulating in the present martial world.

"You are the Blue Stream Sword Fragrance."

"I am."

"A pleasure! I am Godojin."

"Senior Go, then."

"…"

Seeing Uncheon's mild reaction, Godojin gave a bitter little smile.

"You do not know who I am, do you?"

"I have only recently entered the martial world… If I have given offense, I apologize."

A faint guilt stirred in him.

I should have paid more attention when they taught martial history. I may embarrass myself again.

The clan taught the major sects in detail and little else; at the time Uncheon himself had taken scant interest in martial-world gossip.

"No fault of yours. The shortcoming is mine."

Godojin pointed to one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠of the horses.

"Take that one."

"Do you not need it yourself, Senior?"

"I am not riding into battle today. You, on the other hand, need a mount."

"If you truly wish to yield it, I am grateful. How much?"

"No price. Consider it a gift."

"I cannot accept that. It must be expensive."

"Hahaha, I said it is fine. Next time we meet, buy me a good meal—or better yet, a drink."

"Ah… then I will gratefully accept. When next we meet I shall treat Senior Go to a feast."

"I would rather you call me 'elder brother' than 'senior.' How does that sound?"

"Very well—Elder Brother Go."

Godojin's mood soared. Forming a bond with an outstanding talent was almost as rare as a heavenly opportunity in the Central Plains. Even if he had given away dozens of horses, tying himself to the Blue Stream Sword Fragrance would still have been a bargain.

He watched Uncheon ride away, saddle and all, and a broad grin stretched across his face.

One horse, and I am now sworn brothers with the Blue Stream Sword Fragrance. That alone will make fine tavern talk for years.

The corners of his mouth stayed lifted as he laughed aloud in pure delight.