Dual Contingencies (1)
The carriage pressed northward relentlessly, the outside air growing colder with each passing day.
From the moment Yeom Hwa-sin had suggested they head to the North Sea, Baek So-cheon had known their final destination was set in stone.
Just where the hell is he taking me?
He was curious, but without Yeom Hwa-sin volunteering the information, there was no way to know.
Today, as always, Baek So-cheon was mentally practicing the Thousand-Handed Asura God Sword. He meticulously broke down each form, analyzing them one by one.
To maximize the effectiveness of his training, he approached it with a key assumption.
What if each of these were independent sword styles?
He imagined crafting entirely new martial arts for every single form.
The first form became its own sword art, the second another entirely different one.
Baek So-cheon took it a step further. He pitted these newly created forms against each other—in his mind, of course.
The first form wasn't inherently disadvantaged against the second. Since each had its own unique character, the outcome depended entirely on the terrain or circumstances of the fight.
This training was fascinating, fresh, and profoundly stimulating for Baek So-cheon.
Then came Yeom Hwa-sin's voice.
"Lost in thoughts of women again, I see."
Says the one who sounds bored as hell, Baek So-cheon thought as he opened his closed eyes.
"Nope."
"Then why the goofy grin?"
He'd been so immersed in his mental training that a smile had crept onto his face without him realizing.
"I was imagining taking you down."
"If that were true, you'd be roaring with laughter, not just smirking."
Seeing that easy, relaxed smile on his face always stirred an impulse in Baek So-cheon to say something like this:
—Honestly, I've fully recovered my inner power and am mastering the four supreme martial arts of the ages. The seventh form of the Thousand-Handed Asura God Sword has me stuck—mind giving me a hand?
Discussing swordsmanship with Yeom Hwa-sin? Getting direct advice on martial arts? It would be invaluable. No guarantees, but it might be the key to breaking through that final wall of the seventh form.
What would his reaction be if he learned Baek So-cheon had hidden his dantian recovery?
Would he explode in rage?
Or laugh it off?
With that casual, friend-like expression, it felt like he'd skip the scolding and say, 'Alright, let's figure it out.'
Of course, that was wishful thinking. Even if he said it aloud, deep down he'd resolve to kill him as soon as possible.
Unfulfilled desires always build the highest expectations before reality callously shatters them. And when it happens not with drama, but as an everyday occurrence, the disappointment cuts even deeper.
"Stop dreaming and make it real."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's spar."
"You dragged me all the way up here to kill me?"
"Not yet. I'll fight without inner power too."
Baek So-cheon had suspected as much. At first, he'd wondered if this trip was a setup for his death, but it didn't feel that way. As Yeom Hwa-sin had said, this journey was for completion.
"It's about time we crossed swords, don't you think?"
He was right. They'd shared countless discussions on martial arts during the trip. They'd fought side by side in the canyon, but never against each other.
Now was the moment. It felt perfectly timed—Yeom Hwa-sin had an uncanny knack for seizing the right opportunities.
Baek So-cheon let a hint of bravado slip.
"You might end up dead by my hand."
"You really think so?"
"I've been without inner power longer than you."
"Familiarity has made you weak."
"Hah! Fine. Let's do it."
Yeom Hwa-sin shouted with excitement.
"Mu-jin! Stop the carriage!"
The two faced off in a vast, empty field.
Jong Mu-jin parked the carriage far enough away to give them complete privacy.
"Be careful."
Yeom Hwa-sin thrust forward a tightly clenched fist—exaggeratedly large, the size of an adult's face.
"For fairness, you should use just one hand."
"Hahaha, sorry, but I'll use both hands and feet."
His signature art was the Lightning Soul-Stealing Palm, a palm technique. Without weapons, he held a clear advantage.
He might be smiling now, but once the fight started, he'd be terrifying. If he planned to go easy, he never would have suggested sparring in the first place. Baek So-cheon steadied his mind.
True to form, Yeom Hwa-sin struck first.
Shwaaaaak.
The flying fist grazed Baek So-cheon's face.
It was hard to believe no inner power fueled that horrifying speed and force.
Yeom Hwa-sin must have thought the same—dodging such an attack without inner power.
The fist that had targeted his face now aimed for his gut.
His fist style had no fixed forms. He didn't follow set patterns; he attacked freely, adapting on the fly.
That made it all the more threatening. You never knew how or from where the next strike would morph.
Baek So-cheon, meanwhile, stuck faithfully to the Heavenly Thunder Nine Fists.
Whoosh!
Thud!
Baek So-cheon's right shoulder slammed into Yeom Hwa-sin's chest.
The massive frame floated into the air before crashing to the ground.
He sprang up, face etched with surprise.
"What technique was that?"
"Heavenly Thunder Nine Fists."
Baek So-cheon answered honestly. He'd decided what to hide and what to reveal: conceal the Thousand-Handed Asura God Sword, reveal the Heavenly Thunder Nine Fists. Admit memorizing the Wind God Movement Technique on the spot, hide the Immovable Wisdom King Heart Method.
Mix truth and lies to perfectly mask the deceptions.
"Heavenly Thunder Nine Fists? The one hailed as the supreme fist art of the ages?"
"That's the one."
"How'd you learn it?"
Curiosity lit Yeom Hwa-sin's eyes like a beast's. Never forget his dual nature.
"Got my hands on the manual by chance."
"You fooled me good."
"I didn't fool you. You never asked."
"Fair enough. Everyone has secrets."
His cold expression softened, though a subtle disappointment lingered.
"What's yours?"
"You'll learn when you're stronger than me. In this world, everything belongs to the strong."
"As if you'd tell me even if I got stronger."
Yeom Hwa-sin grinned—a smile tinged with fondness for someone who knew him so well.
"Come on, again."
As he charged, Baek So-cheon raised a hand to stop him.
"Hold on, one thing."
"What?"
"Did you cheat?"
"Cheat how?"
"That spot I hit looks way too fine."
Through his open collar, Yeom Hwa-sin's chest was visible—no bruise, not even a redness. Impossible given the impact's force.
"No inner power."
"So the Diamond Indestructible Body makes you this tough even without it."
"Just confirmed it myself. First time getting hit without inner power."
He glanced down at his chest.
"Does it hurt?"
Yeom Hwa-sin nodded. A strike from someone of Baek So-cheon's caliber would damage internals regardless of inner power.
Denying pain would be a lie. The question was how much—but that ironclad face gave nothing away.
"Watch out. I've trained hard to compensate."
"Won't fall for it twice."
The fight resumed.
Yeom Hwa-sin's movements grew more cautious than before.
Baek So-cheon countered steadfastly with the Heavenly Thunder Nine Fists.
Fists, feet, elbows, shoulders, even backs—they targeted vital points with ferocious speed.
If anyone watched, they'd never believe it was a no-inner-power bout.
After some thirty exchanges.
Thud.
This time, Baek So-cheon took a hit to the jaw from a surprise fist, staggering back.
"Ugh."
He rubbed his aching jaw. It had glanced off— a direct hit might've shattered it.
"You really trying to kill me?"
"Sorry. Got carried away."
But his next move was even fiercer, sharper.
Baek So-cheon fought at his absolute best without inner power. This was ten times harder than facing two hundred foes back then.
A single instant's mistake could end in death.
Who was truly controlling the fight?
The spar ended.
Flat on his back, Baek So-cheon couldn't even twitch a finger.
He'd given everything, but couldn't beat Yeom Hwa-sin. Mastering all nine fists might've done it, but with only up to the fifth at will, it wasn't enough.
At least he hadn't lost badly. Whether Yeom Hwa-sin had held back was unknowable.
"Did you go easy?"
"I wish."
Yeom Hwa-sin lay beside him, spread-eagled.
"Three close calls fighting you."
"Not two?"
"Three."
"Threats I didn't even notice. Guess you're just better."
"Meaning?"
"You're ahead. Overthinking turned non-threats into threats."
"Hm. Could be."
A pause, then Yeom Hwa-sin asked,
"How long since our last real fight?"
"Three years? No, four now that the year's turned. Feels like yesterday, but damn, it's been that long."
"Regret it?"
"Don't you? Death doesn't scare me, but time flying like this? Yeah."
"Greedy bastard."
"Greedy how?"
"Wasting time regretting what you haven't achieved. Let go of pointless attachments."
Baek So-cheon fired back at the monk-like wisdom.
"You let go of your ambition to dominate Murim first."
"Haha."
Conversations with Yeom Hwa-sin always prompted self-reflection.
Where did his own desires come from?
A future of freedom? Or a past denied it?
One thing he agreed with: let go. Discard everything to gain it all.
"I'm starving."
"Me too!"
A short while later, they ate at a nearby inn.
"You eat a lot."
"You eat less than I thought."
"Used to pack it away, but lately... age, maybe?"
"Fifty-nine and already? What then?"
"You know my age?"
"Exactly twenty years older than me."
"Right."
"Thought back then: how do I beat someone twenty years my senior? Scared shitless."
"And yet you stabbed my heart anyway."
"Missed the heart, though. Speaking of—where is it?"
"Why curious?"
"You can tell me. I can't pierce you anymore."
"My heart..."
Yeom Hwa-sin started to speak, then clammed up.
"Not telling you."
"Why?"
"I'm scared too."
Baek So-cheon chuckled.
"Tiger worrying about the rabbit."
"The rabbit that went toe-to-toe with the tiger?"
Right then.
Yeom Hwa-sin shot to his feet.
The next instant!
Kwaaaang!
A deafening roar exploded, as if eardrums might burst.