Swordsmanship Training

Noon was drawing near when Hyeong Jin and Hyeong Pung returned from Jeomchang Mountain and passed back through the mountain gate. The moment he crossed it, Hyeong Pung collapsed in a heap, sweat dripping from the ends of his soaked hair.

Hyeong Jin came in behind him, just as drenched and breathing hard, yet his stride never lost its shape.

Hyeong Chae happened to be passing and looked from one of them to the other.

"You two went up the mountain together, and only one of you came back half-dead?"

"Shut up."

"I heard you cried on the cliff yesterday."

"When did I ever cry!"

Hyeong Pung jerked his head up. At the sight of that exhausted, blue-pale face, Hyeong Chae finally burst out laughing.

Hyeong Jin gave a short laugh and held up the sand pouches.

"I'll go put these away first."

Hyeong Pung glared after him, eyes full of resentment.

After needling him a good while longer, Hyeong Chae gave a sudden shiver.

"Achoo... my nose just started itching."

"Know when to stop. Keep that up and you'll pay for it."

Not knowing she was next, Hyeong Chae only beamed.

On her way back to the training ground, she ran into Hyeong Jin.

"Senior Sister Hyeong Chae."

"Oh, Hyeong Jin. I heard all about you dragging Hyeong Pung up the mountain. Beautifully done. One look at that face of his and I feel ten years of heartburn just vanish."

Laughing, she clapped him on the shoulder. Hyeong Jin smiled.

"If you already know, then this will be quick, Senior Sister."

Her expression began, slowly, to stiffen.

"...Don't tell me."

His voice dropped.

"Help me with my training, Senior Sister."

Her eyes wavered.

"Ah, of course I'd love to help, but there's something I absolutely have to do today."

"What's that?"

"Something. I have something."

She avoided his eyes.

"Senior Sister, what's your record against Senior Brother Hyeong Pung?"

Her face hardened at once.

"I've been winning lately."

"One win. Nine losses."

"Hey! Is there anything you won't say?"

Color rushed into her cheeks.

"Senior Brother Hyeong Pung is going to get stronger fast. Stamina was his greatest weakness."

"..."

"You won't be able to beat him from here on."

Hyeong Chae flinched. For an instant she saw him as he was after a spar he had won, mocking her.

"If you'd rather lose to Senior Brother Hyeong Pung for the rest of your life, feel free to go."

"You're saying you have a way?"

Doubt filled her voice. Hyeong Jin only shrugged.

"Just once. If I try it and it doesn't work, I quit on the spot."

"Of course."

The corner of his mouth slowly rose.

The two of them reached a clearing along the path that climbed toward Jeomchang Mountain. Loosening her shoulders, Hyeong Chae smiled.

"I'll say this, though, Hyeong Jin. I don't think you're at a level to be teaching me."

She spun her sword.

"Then see for yourself."

"Come, Senior Sister."

His smile deepened.

In the next instant she stamped hard against the ground.

Boom!

With the tremor step, power hauled up from her lower body surged through her waist and poured into the sword.

Even before the steel arrived, a heavy pressure crushed down on Hyeong Jin's shoulders. Take it head-on, and the force would drive him back, sword and all. The power was considerable. But she was emptying every ounce of strength into the very first stroke, and at that rate the slightest shift in the sword path would leave her unable to recover the tip.

Hyeong Jin sidestepped half a pace and set his blade at an angle.

Clang!

Hyeong Chae's sword rode the spine of his and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠slid off into empty air. Strength gathered in her hands.

"This time, take it all the way."

She stamped the tremor step again. Hyeong Jin's eyes went still and cold.

Her sword came crashing toward his left shoulder. He did not meet it from the front. He angled his blade and laid it against the flat of hers.

Krrrk!

The two swords slid, locked together. He twisted his wrist, and her sword path was shoved outward. Tendons stood out along her arm as she tried to halt the blade, but momentum sent her body lurching. In that instant Hyeong Jin stepped in and leveled his sword at her throat.

Her eyes wavered as she stared at the blade at her neck.

"...?"

"The power is more than enough. But the moment your sword path shifted even slightly, you couldn't stop the blade."

Hyeong Chae went still.

"It's the Mountain-Collapsing Sword. You're telling me to use less strength?"

"No. Give it everything you have, all the way to the end. Only you have to be the one who decides where the tip stops."

Her lips jutted out.

"How am I supposed to stop a sword loaded with that much force whenever I please?"

"Keep the power. The tip still has to answer you freely."

Hyeong Jin set down his live blade and picked up two wooden swords.

"I'll make you into someone who can."

Hyeong Chae set her own sword aside and took a wooden one. She swung it in a savage arc.

Thwack.

The wooden sword tapped her shoulder.

"The tip wavered again."

A vein stood out on her forehead.

"You are dead today. I mean it."

She charged again.

Thwack.

The waist, this time.

"You're yanking with your arms, so the tip shakes. Plant your center with your feet, and take what's left of the force through your waist."

She clenched her teeth. The spot he had struck throbbed, and her eyes blazed as she tightened her grip on the wooden sword.

"I'll try again."

The corner of his mouth lifted. Even so, her sword could not so much as brush his collar.

"Ugh. You're so annoying I could die."

The clearing filled with her shouts and the crack of wooden swords.

"We'll stop here."

Hyeong Jin ended the training. Rubbing her aching body, Hyeong Chae spoke.

"Hey, get over here. Just one hit. Let me land exactly one."

He laughed and waved her off.

"See you tomorrow, Senior Sister."

"Hey! Where are you going!"

Hyeong Chae traced the lingering feel of the wooden sword in her hand. All day, and I couldn't even touch his collar. The Hyeong Jin of before could never have toyed with her like this. When did he get that strong?

Suddenly, someone came to mind. Someone who boasted an overwhelming record even against this Hyeong Jin. Her expression turned strangely stiff.

"Then just how much of a monster is Senior Brother Hyeong Un?"

She had been about to leave the clearing. Instead she picked up the live sword she had set down. Keep the power, and control the tip. Hyeong Jin's words circled at her ear.

She stamped the tremor step and swung with everything she had. The sword split the wind with a heavy weight, but once the cut was finished the tip could not master the force, and it wavered. Hyeong Chae shook her head.

"That's not it."

Again. And again. Sweat fell without pause, soaking the ground beneath her feet.

It was when the grueling practice had dulled all feeling in her grip, when she no longer had even the strength to hold the sword with her arms. She twisted her front foot to set her center and turned her waist to receive what force remained. Her arms only followed.

The heavy sword drew a smooth arc and returned before her chest. The strike was over, but the tip did not waver. It extended straight toward an unseen opponent.

Huh? What was that, just now?

She tried to do it again, but the moment she became conscious of it, strength rushed into her arms. The tip of the next swing was busy shaking.

"It was real."

Hyeong Chae muttered it, looking down at palms flushed red. Hyeong Pung's irritating face rose in her mind, and the corner of her mouth lifted. Just you wait, Hyeong Pung. I'll land one on you soon.

Night had fallen over the clearing, and the only sound left was Hyeong Chae's sword cutting the wind.

The next day dawned. Hyeong Pung's screams echoed across Jeomchang Mountain, and Hyeong Chae's shouts rang through the training ground.

Hyeong Pung collapsed from muscle pain every time, yet the hours his climb demanded grew a little shorter. The number of times Hyeong Chae was struck by the wooden sword began to ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fall as well, and the tip that used to waver after every swing gradually found its place.

And the next day, and the day after that. Hyeong Jin's training had no mercy in it, but the two of them clenched their teeth and kept pace.

Today, too, once training with his martial siblings was done, Hyeong Jin remained alone on the training ground, refining his own sword path. The hand gripping the sword trembled. Fatigue had settled not only there, but through his whole body. Even so, this was not yet his limit. Weariness of this degree would pass in a single night.

Neglect daily tempering, and the price comes back as blood on the battlefield. It was a lesson carved into him through the loss of countless comrades.

Thinking of Hyeong Pung and Hyeong Chae, he let out a short laugh. It was truly brutish training. Order the same thing in the Northern Army, and there would have been wailing. And yet the two of them had gritted their teeth and followed. I'll change it. This time, I won't let them die.

He sheathed his sword and sank into thought. Tempering the body was going smoothly. The problem was internal energy. No matter how efficiently one trained, accumulating internal power took time.

Two years remained until Jeomchang fell. Ordinary training alone was nowhere near enough. He had to shorten the time. He needed a spiritual elixir.

Hyeong Jin's gaze deepened. Several places surfaced in his mind: the Northern Sea, Mount Kunlun, Sichuan, Qinghai. In his past life, each had erupted into a blood calamity over some spiritual elixir.

The problem was pretext. A first-generation disciple could not leave the sect without a reason. He took up his sword again. There will be a chance.

Once more, the sound of a blade cutting the wind spread across the training ground.

The next day was the day Sect Leader Uncheongja ended his closed-door seclusion. Jeomchang's greatest swordsman, and Hyeong Jin's master. Dressed in white Taoist robes, he looked every bit the transcendent sage. But Hyeong Jin knew better. Once his master took offense, it lasted quite a while.

"Master. It's been a long time."

Uncheongja's gaze turned to him. Smiling, he began.

"The master finally comes out after all this time, and the disciple—tsk, tsk. Why didn't you wait until after sunset to show your face?"

At the familiar tone, Hyeong Jin smiled.

"I should have."

Uncheongja's smile deepened.

"What have you done to be grinning like that? Wipe it off. Keep smiling and you'll catch an illness you didn't have."

"You could just say you're glad to see your disciple after so long. Honestly, Master, you really are impossible."

"Look at this brat, trying to stand as my equal."

"How would a disciple dare?"

Hyeong Jin bowed at the waist. Looking displeased, Uncheongja stroked his beard.

"I swear, you're no fun at all."

"So what did you call me for?"

His master's voice was calm.

"I hear you've been up to interesting things lately."

"Ungeuk tells me your swordwork has gotten strange, you've taken up bare-handed fighting, and you're even training the first-generation disciples."

Uncheongja's eyes fixed on him.

"Almost as if you've become a different person."

Hyeong Jin raised his head.

"People are bound to change, aren't they?"

Watching him, Uncheongja clicked his tongue.

"Tsk, tsk. I don't know what wind got into you, but don't stray from the proper path."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Right. What I called you for today is an errand. The Tang Clan Lord's birthday banquet is soon, isn't it? I can't be bothered to go myself, so you go and pay my respects."

"Send Senior Brother Hyeong Un. I have plenty to do."

Knowing his master's temperament, he was certain that agreeing too readily would only make the man change his ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠mind.

"Hoh? When your master tells you to go, you go. Too many words."

"If I can't train while I'm traveling back and forth, will you take responsibility, Master?"

Uncheongja rolled up his sleeve.

"Hey. Want to go after a beating, or just go?"

"..."

"Not answering?"

"I'll go."

Hmph.

"When your ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠master gives an order, you ought to say you'll be right back. You always have to earn yourself a beating."

Leaving the Sect Leader's Hall, Hyeong Jin rubbed his head. How did a man like that ever become Sect Leader? He shook his head.

The destination was the Sichuan Tang Clan. In a single stroke, he had both a pretext to leave the sect and a way to make up for the time he lacked. Ten years from now, in Sichuan, countless martial artists would spill their blood over a single spiritual elixir.

The corner of Hyeong Jin's mouth slowly rose.

Before anyone else finds it, I'll claim it first.