The Postponed Duel - 4
A greatsword came hurtling down; a blade swept out to meet it. The destructive force unleashed where the two weapons met was anything but ordinary. That none of the onlookers were caught up in the aftermath was thanks to the Sword Saint, who stood off in a corner and, with a light wave of her hand, raised a Qi Barrier over the yard.
"How does it look to you?"
Clash, clash, clash. The two of them collided so ferociously that I could only think it a blessing no bystanders were anywhere nearby. And yet neither of them yielded so much as a single step. I had known they were strong — but this strong? I had never seen either of them fight at full power, so I confess I was a little stunned.
"I would call it a dead heat."
The Sword Saint delivered the verdict flatly, then twitched an eyebrow and gave one more light wave of her hand. Perhaps it was the clashing qi born every time their weapons met, but chunks of the training yard were being blasted loose and sent flying all over. Magistrate Hyeonryeong had told me not to worry about the repair costs, but I decided I had better chip in something myself.
"And here I thought they might at least go easy on each other..."
"They are going easy."
"Oh? Really?"
"Mm. Not one proper technique has come out yet. They are fighting on personal skill alone, you see."
Even with a battle of that scale raging before her, the Sword Saint answered as though it were nothing. I stole a glance at her and could only marvel. Truly, she was the Sword Saint.
"By the way... I heard you had a word with the two of them."
"And what word would that be?"
"That you hoped they would not be badly hurt."
"It is not as though they are fighting monsters or the Demonic Cult — let alone a true enemy. What need is there to hurt themselves over a friendly match?"
The Sword Saint tilted her head up to look at me. A full head shorter than I was, she held my gaze for a long moment with those deep eyes of hers, then shook her head.
"...You do think deeply, don't you. You're right. There is no reason to fight one's way into injury."
"Then if it were you facing the Blade Emperor, would the two of you fight like this?"
"We would not. The Blade Emperor knows it as well as I do. When the two of us truly must cross weapons—"
The Sword Saint stopped there, breathing out slowly and calmly. There was no emotion in her voice at all.
"—it will be to take each other's heads."
So injuries wouldn't even enter into it, then. I held her gaze a moment longer, then turned my eyes back to the duel.
"It appears they are about to begin using techniques. I can explain them, if you wish."
"Please do."
"Mm. Ryeon is readying the Azure Roaming Sword, one of the latter-stage techniques of the Hongseong Divine Art, and Chae Jin is preparing the Myriad Galaxy Stance."
The Azure Roaming Sword and the Myriad Galaxy Stance — both were among the most formidable techniques their respective arts had to offer. They're using those here? When I stared at her in surprise, the Sword Saint gave a soft laugh.
"The Azure Roaming Sword gathers sword qi and brings it down in a stroke that seems to split the very heavens. The Myriad Galaxy Stance, meanwhile, is a defensive technique that receives an enemy's attack upon the blade. Do not take it lightly — it flows straight into a counterstrike."
"Will they be all right?"
"There is no killing intent between them, so they will be fine. If it turns dangerous, I shall butt in myself."
"Thank you. I'm sorry to put you to the trouble."
"Mmm. Those two were owed a contest sooner or later. Thanks to you, they will spill a good deal less pointless blood over it."
Little was said after that. The Sword Saint explained each technique as it appeared, and I did little more than nod along.
How long did it go on like that? Only after they had traded well over thirty exchanges did a real change finally come over the pair: their techniques were growing more refined with every pass.
"Hmm..."
"From what we have seen so far — who do you think will win?"
"Still a dead heat. Ryeon has grown so much stronger... but Chae Jin is remarkable in her own right. Perhaps because she has grasped Slowness, she is closing the gap at a startling pace."
"Is that so?"
"In the end, the victor will be the one with the stronger heart."
In other words, even the Sword Saint couldn't call this one. Which left me with nothing to say...
"I just hope neither of them gets hurt."
"You and me both."
The dying sun sank away entirely and darkness settled over the yard, yet the fight between them did not stop. And then, at the same moment, the two of them began to waver.
Tsk, tsk.
They were feeling the bottom of their internal energy. Left as they were, they would clearly collapse from exhaustion — and still neither stopped. I looked to the Sword Saint, but she only went on watching, calm as ever.
"It will end soon."
CLAAANG!!
Greatsword met blade. In the same instant, both weapons went spinning away through the air — but the two of them had known it would come to this, and their fists were already driving forward.
WHAM!
WHAM!!
A fist sank deep into each of their chests. Watching them both crumple slowly under the impact, the Sword Saint burst into a low laugh.
"A pair of proper little devils, those two."
"Hahaha..."
So it was a draw after all? Both of them had gone down, and I moved to go to them — but the Sword Saint raised a hand and stopped me.
"Hyaaaahh!!"
"Haaahhh!!"
No internal energy left, no strength to mount a proper technique. Anyone could see how spent they were, and yet their eyes burned with fierce, unbroken will. Were they truly determined to see this through to the bitter end?
Watching the two of them, I spoke to the Sword Saint.
"Isn't this going to turn into a real disaster?"
In their state, a single clean hit could end either of them. Masters or not — fighting like that with their internal energy all but drained, surely it was time for someone to step in and stop them?
And yet the Sword Saint's position remained the same: we watch.
And then.
Thud.
In the end, spent as they were, they let their fists fall too. But the glare they fixed on each other never wavered.
So — was this actually going to change things between them?
"Time to bring this to a close."
Judging there was nothing more to be gained, the Sword Saint stepped forward. Only when they saw her walking toward them did Hong Ryeon and Chae Jin finally stop the fists they had been raising at one another. Not that either of them looked to have any strength left to attack with.
"You two know full well who won."
"...Ju-just a little longer, and—"
"...I could have won."
Somehow, I doubted that.
At their reactions, the Sword Saint's gaze wavered, just slightly, as if caught off guard — but she did her best not to let it show. To their feeble protests, I could only shrug.
It was true that both of them were bleeding here and there. There were cuts, some swelling — but for a fight of that magnitude, nothing so bad that one couldn't look the other way.
"Now then — that's enough. Let's get you both treated. I'll send for a physician."
"...Do we have to be treated here?"
Her tongue still sluggish, Hong Ryeon forced the words out in a trembling voice, and the Sword Saint smiled.
"Yes. We'll have you patched up quickly and return to the sect—"
"...The inn."
Huh? The inn? My inn?
When I looked over, Hong Ryeon gave a small nod.
"I want to rest... at the inn. Is that not allowed?"
"...Why on earth would you leave the sect behind to rest at some stranger's inn?"
"A stranger... he isn't."
At the Sword Saint's grumbling, Hong Ryeon bowed her head with a faint smile. The Sword Saint, meanwhile, fixed me with a long, level stare. I couldn't have told her why. I looked to Chae Jin, but she hadn't stirred an inch — she remained exactly as she'd been, head bowed. From the looks of it, she had passed out not long after the Sword Saint called a halt.
'Not a stranger,' is it... Well. It's not as though she's wrong.
"Haha..."
"Then we shall have the two of them moved to the inn."
"Yes. Please do."
I lost.
I had lost.
Consciousness had returned, but Hong Ryeon could not bring herself to open her eyes, and only barely held down the tears threatening to spill over.
Her master, the Sword Saint, had of course called it a draw — but break the duel down on its merits, and it was Chae Jin who had landed the cleaner strikes. Had it not been for the condition Yu Wol had asked of them beforehand, she would certainly have been the first to fall.
No — never mind that. This was Seomhwachon, was it not? Even a mongrel cur, so the saying goes, holds its own in its master's front room. And here she was, managing nothing better than a draw in the very village where the Hongseong Sect stood.
I lost.
Ah... after everything she had said to him, too.
Even granting that Chae Jin hadn't used what she had realized back then... a loss was still a loss.
She couldn't lift her face. Couldn't open her eyes. Her body ached, but it was only the toll of a few clean hits — this much would fade with a few rounds of breathing exercises and some salve. But what was she supposed to do about the wound to her heart?
Hong Ryeon had been defeated. By Chae Jin, of all people. Before her master's eyes — and his. The self-loathing of it felt like it would cave her chest in.
Then something cool touched her face. A rough hand. At the feel of it, Hong Ryeon eased her eyes open — and a man swam into her field of view.
Yu Wol.
At the sight of him she flinched and squeezed her eyes shut again. It took a long while of working her lips before she could finally force the words out.
"...I lost."
To her feeble voice, Yu Wol replied in that low, gentle tone of his.
"You drew. The Sword Saint said as much."
"But..."
"What matters is that you kept your promise to me."
At his words, Hong Ryeon shut her eyes tight. What an extraordinary man. A few short words, and the ache that had felt like it would tear her chest apart only moments ago simply... eased.
When he finished dabbing the salve over her face and moved to draw his hand away, she hastily caught it in her own.
"Don't go..."
"I'm not going anywhere. This is my inn, after all."
"Next time... I won't lose..."
"Does a contest have to be a formal duel? Why not something else?"
"...Like what?"
"Telling each other your good points, for one."
"...Whose? Chae Jin's?"
Just what part of that thieving cat of a girl was there to praise?
It wasn't as though she didn't know Chae Jin was pretty, with a fine figure and long, graceful limbs and a hearty, open temperament. Eldest disciple of Moon Lotus Pavilion, on top of it — she was surely flush with money, too.
But what else was there to praise beyond that?
And yet there had been a note of displeasure in his voice. Not that strange business about compliments — something else? What could he be getting at?
Hmm...
Feeling the warmth of the hand held in her own, she grinned. It stung a little, her lip being split as it was — but that was fine.
A different way, then?
Then...
How about a contest over who gets closer to him?
"...If it's not a duel, you'll allow it?"
"Anything."
"You won't take those words back?"
Only then did she finally feel at ease. Slowly, savoring the feel of his hand in hers, Hong Ryeon drifted into sleep — if for no other reason than for the sake of her own heart, which burned far larger than any jealousy of that woman or hunger to win ever could.
This much, she resolved, she would never, ever give up.
I lost.
I lost again.
This time, of all times, she had truly believed she could win. But there was no denying it: she had lost. Fine — she hadn't used any truly dangerous moves. But then, neither had Hong Ryeon. Which meant the loss was hers, fair and square.
No wonder, really — Hong Ryeon's eyes had still been open when Chae Jin lost consciousness. Victory belongs to the one left standing, after all.
What a sorry state this was.
He had believed in her. He had told her that learning the Chae Family Tai Chi Chuan from her was something he took pride in. And still...
Surging self-loathing and shame left her unable to gather herself. There she lay in bed, unable even to open her eyes, unable to bring herself to admit she had woken.
Then something cool began to be dabbed onto the wounds on her face. She eased her eyes open a sliver — it was him. Her own disciple, and the man who had placed his trust in her. The moment she saw him, Chae Jin squeezed her eyes shut again.
"You're awake?"
"...Yes."
"The Sword Saint called it a draw."
"...I lost."
She had no choice but to state the plain truth. If she leaned on that kindness of his, she might just fall apart.
"No. It was a draw. The result of this duel is the Sword Saint's to decide — whatever you may think, the conclusion is a draw."
"...But if not for the innkeeper's condition—"
"Even with that condition in place, the outcome would be no different. I'll say it plainly, right here and now: it was a draw."
At his flat pronouncement, Chae Jin shut her eyes tight. And in the end, she nodded. If he said so, then so it was. When a man who believed in her was the one saying it, how could she not believe him?
"...I won't lose next time."
"Even so, I'd rather not watch the two of you fight if it can be helped. Couldn't the next contest be something different? Complimenting each other's strong points, perhaps..."
"...Don't say such weird things. Hmm... oh."
Compliments? Honestly. What was there to praise about that sly fox of a woman?
Sure, she was pretty. Diligent, too — cooked well, made clothes well, did fine needlework. And having once watched her clean the Murim Alliance's administrative offices, Chae Jin could attest that she cleaned well, too.
But surely that couldn't be all there was to it. Which made this whole ridiculous notion...
"...Hehe."
"What's so funny?"
"Oh — no, no, nothing. A rather good idea just came to me, that's all."
Chae Jin smirked. She couldn't see it with her eyes closed, but she could picture Yu Wol's face easily enough as she turned the thought over.
Then how about this — a contest over who gets to sit beside him first?
She liked her odds. Hong Ryeon was away at the Hongseong Sect, while she herself could be at his side whenever she pleased. Which meant she could close the distance on far more favorable terms.
A smile curving her lips, Chae Jin spoke.
"A contest other than a duel? All right. Let's do it that way."
"Much obliged."
"Don't mention it. That's what we are to each other, aren't we?"
"Oh? Er... well, I suppose we are."
"Hehehe..."
And with that, Chae Jin closed her eyes, looking forward to the new contest that would begin tomorrow.
Perhaps it was because the contest ahead was no longer driven, as it had been, by the hunger to be acknowledged —
— that she could feel it: a corner of her heart, once bound in chains and cold clear through, was growing warm.