The Goal (2)
The morning had just passed the breakfast hour. In the center of the training ground, where the scent of dry earth clung to the air, the two men locked eyes and swung their wooden swords. Thwack! Thwack! The sharp cracks of wood striking wood rang out in rapid succession. On the surface, the fight appeared evenly matched. They blocked, dodged, and countered in a tangled exchange. Yet while the technical balance held, the momentum and pressure clearly favored Han Jungwoo.
‘This brat…!’
Lee Sunho couldn’t hide his surprise from the very first exchange. Before the words had even left his mouth, a vicious opening strike came flying in. Some might have found it unsportsmanlike to attack before the signal was fully given, but Lee Sunho understood. On a real battlefield, a single moment of hesitation could cost you your life. That was simply how the world worked.
What truly startled him was Han Jungwoo’s fighting style. ‘He fights like a beast, not a man.’
There was no “form” in Jungwoo’s attacks. No refined swordsmanship built on efficiency and reason—just raw, unpolished violence. He simply poured every ounce of strength into each swing. The strikes were straightforward, their intent obvious, yet each one carried terrifying speed and power.
Thwack!
“Kuh…!”
Lee Sunho was forced onto the defensive, barely managing to respond. ‘Like hell I’m just going to take it!’
He slipped past a wide swing and drove forward, closing the distance to strike at Jungwoo’s solar plexus. The opening should have been fatal. But Jungwoo knocked his hand aside with his free hand.
“What—?!”
‘He let go of the sword…!’
Even releasing just one hand was shocking. Most Ricon Kingdom swordsmanship began with a two-handed grip for stability and power. Only a rare few abandoned that foundation for extreme dual-wielding styles. Lee Sunho realized his mistake instantly.
‘Dangerous.’
He retreated at once, creating space. Jungwoo’s one-handed sword swept upward from below, the tip grazing the tip of his nose. Had he been a second slower, his jaw would have been struck.
Lee Sunho’s judgment had been correct.
“……”
Jungwoo pressed the attack without hesitation. Even though his decisive blow had missed, no trace of frustration showed on his face. Only a calm indifference, as if missing didn’t matter at all. He simply flowed into the next strike, refusing to dwell on the previous one. It was the posture of a warrior whose sole purpose was survival.
‘I see… So that’s what it is.’
Lee Sunho understood the meaning behind Jungwoo’s style. For him, combat was nothing more than a struggle to stay alive. He had been mistaken. This sparring match was meant to be a conversation through swords, a way to gauge each other’s skill. But Jungwoo didn’t know how to fight that way. He had only ever swung his weapon to survive.
Once Lee Sunho grasped that, everything became clear. The attacks were crude and beast-like, lacking any technique, yet they were backed by terrifying reflexes and judgment. And that monstrous physique…
‘And… what the hell? This insane physical ability? He looks barely twenty.’
Strength, speed—both were absurd. For someone who had only recently left adolescence behind, it was frightening. Even so, Lee Sunho’s competitive spirit refused to yield to a newcomer who seemed no older than twenty.
He raised his wooden sword high. Jungwoo’s gaze, which had been fixed on the blade, followed it upward. As Jungwoo prepared to defend against a downward strike—
‘Dodge or block, it doesn’t matter.’
The important thing was that he had drawn Jungwoo’s attention. No matter how sharp one’s reflexes were, they couldn’t respond to what they couldn’t see.
Lee Sunho grinned, sensing victory. Then he spoke the answer aloud.
“You should’ve created distance right away and kept your field of view wide.”
He kicked Jungwoo’s legs out from under him. In an instant, Jungwoo’s vision flipped.
“Huh.”
Jungwoo let out a startled gasp. Before he could react to the attack coming from outside his line of sight, it was already too late. Lee Sunho’s wooden sword, held in reverse grip, came crashing down toward his solar plexus.
“Kuh…!”
The tip stopped just short of impact, halting at the last possible moment with eerie precision.
“Alright, that’s enough.”
Lee Sunho withdrew his sword and extended a hand to the fallen Jungwoo, smiling. Jungwoo looked dazed rather than disappointed by the loss. He took the offered hand without thinking and was pulled to his feet.
“You’re really something. That actually gave me chills.”
Lee Sunho, still sweating, wore a thoroughly satisfied expression.
“…That last move.”
“Hm?”
“Did you deliberately draw my attention with it?”
◆ ◆ ◆
“What? Raising the sword?”
“Yes.”
Lee Sunho nodded at Jungwoo’s question.
“Exactly. Your eyes are sharp. Anything you could see, you blocked. So I had to pull your gaze away.”
An attack he couldn’t see. Was it because he hadn’t sensed any killing intent? Or because he hadn’t fully extended his sensory abilities? Either way, he hadn’t even registered it until it was too late.
“…Impressive. So that kind of fighting exists too.”
It was different from fighting monsters. They never tried to mislead or draw attention. Their attacks were always direct and linear. That made them easier to handle—you simply blocked or dodged what you saw. This was the first time he had experienced someone deliberately deceiving his senses to land a blow.
“You’ve never properly learned swordsmanship before, have you?”
“…No.”
They had only crossed swords once, yet Lee Sunho had seen straight through him. It felt as though his innermost thoughts had been laid bare. Jungwoo had never been good at lying or evading, so he answered honestly. No one had ever taught a slave soldier swordsmanship, let alone offered advice. He had survived by figuring everything out on his own.
The only reason he had lasted as long as he did was because he had never faced truly powerful monsters. Slave soldiers were treated as expendable even within the Allied Forces. Their role was limited to hunting weak, low-grade monsters or cleaning up after other units. That was why he had died so miserably in the final battle.
‘They were sending us to die.’
Dispatching slave soldiers who had survived this long to the Beltar Plain, crawling with mid-grade monsters like the Minotaur, had been nothing short of a death sentence.
As Jungwoo briefly sank into those bitter memories, Lee Sunho spoke.
“You should start learning properly from now on.”
“You never know what kind of enemies you’ll face. Getting stronger will help you survive, too.”
The word “survive” struck Jungwoo’s heart. It resonated more deeply than anything else could right now. He looked at Lee Sunho. Had he said that because he understood? It felt as though the man saw straight through him.
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
Jungwoo bowed his head in gratitude. After a short pause, he straightened up to find Lee Sunho smirking at him.
“Ah, that was fun. I’m gonna rest for a bit and come back later. What about you?”
“…I’ll stay here a while longer.”
“Suit yourself.”
Lee Sunho waved and left the training ground. Silence settled over the now-empty space.
‘…I’m still too weak.’
He was right. Jungwoo was still weak. Even though he had grown stronger than before, he remained far from sufficient. The only reason his crude methods had worked until now was because the monsters he had faced weren’t strong enough.
‘If I ran into the Minotaur right now… could I win?’
The answer was obvious. The memory was still vivid—the overwhelming power that had crushed him into the ground and smashed his skull without effort. The helplessness and despair. The moment he recalled that pain and those emotions—
“Kuh…”
His body trembled. His memories, his instincts, remembered. He had hunted many monsters and absorbed Heavenly Fate to grow stronger, yet he was certain he could never defeat that creature.
Therefore—
“I have to get stronger.”
For the first time, something he could truly call a goal began to sprout in his heart.
But how? If he simply continued training diligently every day, learning swordsmanship and gaining experience, would he eventually be able to defeat the Minotaur?
‘No. It’s impossible.’
There was an insurmountable gap between humans and monsters—especially mid-grade ones. A gap no ordinary human body could ever overcome.
“So then…”
He couldn’t stay like this. He refused to die helplessly and miserably again. This was his second chance, one that would never come again. He wouldn’t accept the same ending twice.
Therefore, he had to become even stronger. Strong enough to survive battles against the Minotaur and other powerful monsters.
Jungwoo clenched his fists tightly and made his vow.