The End of Chapter One — 3

To be honest, Hong Ryeon did not like Chae Jin. There were plenty of reasons, but the one that had come to the fore lately was the way the woman glued herself to his side day after day, angling to seduce him under everyone's nose.

But even so.

"Hyaaaaap!!"

Her skill, at least, could be trusted without reservation.

Chae Jin's saber, wreathed in white blade qi, sheared clean through the Iron Tiger's claw. There was nothing shallow about the force packed into a strike that could cut through metal—and no one knew that better than Hong Ryeon herself.

"Left!!"

"I know!!"

She cleaved through the massive forepaw as it came crashing down, and the Iron Tiger staggered. Gunning for that opening, Hong Ryeon clamped both hands around her greatsword.

Crimson energy burst from the greatsword as though detonating, supercharging the force of her swing. In the same breath, the Iron Tiger's left forepaw met the blow and burst apart, spinning away in fragments.

She watched the leg that had stood like a pillar of iron crumble, and the beast's head dip downward.

Watching it, Hong Ryeon thought: Eldest disciple of Moon Lotus Pavilion. Her own worthy rival. And—like it or not—a woman who loved the same man she did. Trustworthy, as expected.

"The head!!"

"I see it!!"

"Hyaaaaap!!"

With a ringing battle cry, Chae Jin's saber leapt up and came down in a single stroke—and what unfolded with it was a moon of pure silver. The instant that moon split in two, the Iron Tiger's head split half along with it, revealing the crimson core nestled within.

And that, she could not let slip away.

—KUUUUNG!!

Hong Ryeon's Hongseong Divine Art internal energy erupted like a bomb going off. In the same instant she sprang high into the air and brought the greatsword in both hands crashing down.

It was the attack that carried the defining trait of the Hongseong Divine Art—its reverence for overwhelming force—more purely than any other.

Though the form was not yet complete, the power it carried surpassed anything else Hong Ryeon could unleash—and so the core bared in the Iron Tiger's skull could not withstand her strike.

—Crrrack...

The core split open, and the Iron Tiger's body began to come apart where it stood.

Hong Ryeon vaulted lightly down and shot Chae Jin a sidelong ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠glance. They had felled their enemy, but neither of them had the leisure to celebrate—the battle was still in full swing, and two more Iron Tigers remained.

Those two, however, were far smaller than the beast the pair had just shared—small enough to take one apiece. And so the two rivals, as if their flawless coordination moments ago had been a lie, simply wheeled about and sprinted for their separate Iron Tigers.

Watching Chae Jin's retreating back, Hong Ryeon thought: She rubs me the wrong way—but I trust her. As much as Chae Jin loves Yu Wol, her resolve to protect Seomhwachon, the village he means to protect, must be every bit as great as mine. There's no doubt she'll fight this battle to keep everyone safe.

Sprinting toward the rampaging Iron Tiger, Chae Jin thought: Ahh. I really, really can't stand that woman.

The way she carries herself, like she alone has to shoulder every last burden, gets under my skin. The way everyone acknowledges her, unlike me. The way every junior sister of Hongseong Sect—no blood relation between them—looks up to her like a true elder sister. Jealous. All of it.

And what I hate most of all is that she met him before I did—and that she can walk up to him without a flicker of hesitation.

Hong Ryeon, that ice-cold inspector of the Murim Alliance, showing a side like that? Hah.

Chae Jin blew a derisive snort as she watched Hong Ryeon engage her Iron Tiger in the distance.

"Chae Ryeon!! You take the evil sect fighters!! The Iron Tiger is mine!"

"Got it!!"

She spared one glance for Chae Ryeon—who, at her word, was leading the Moonlight Squad in a surprise strike against the evil sect fighters assaulting the Sword Saint—then turned her eyes to the snarling Iron Tiger before her.

But even so. Hong Ryeon was someone you could trust. If she said she would handle it, you simply trusted her and fought. And if it was her—she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would surely become a great strength in this fight, the fight Yu Wol so desperately wanted to win, wanted to see through.

Which meant she could not afford ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to lose.

"Unfold the Hongseong Sword Formation!!"

At Ryu Hyeon's cry, the Hongseong disciples' movements shifted as one. Moving in harmony with them, Sa Yun thought: Ever since our last clash with the Iron Blood Dan, the sect's sword formation has grown sharper and faster. Because standing against an enemy like that showed us exactly how weak we were.

But now is different. We have trained without pause since then, and won enlightenment in the secret realms. And that is not all—with Yu Wol's help, our lives have improved, freeing us to pour ourselves into training all the more. The sword workshop that took root in Seomhwachon has given us finer weapons, and our training grounds have grown better besides. Every so often we are even treated to medicinal dishes made from rare ingredients. We have been given care far beyond what we deserve.

And so—we cannot lose.

"Hyaaap!!"

Of everyone, the one who had reaped the greatest ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠growth since the battle with the Iron Blood Dan was, without question, the youngest—Sa Yun. Back then, her internal energy had been so thin that she wheezed and strained every time she executed the art's later forms. Not anymore. Now that she had grown accustomed to the Hongseong Divine Art's method of control, and her body had been fortified by all that medicinal cooking, her sword swung and her hands and feet moved without a single hitch.

"You little brat!!"

A man who looked to be in his early thirties spat the curse and swung his great saber. Sa Yun deflected it with the smallest turn of her blade, spun on her heel, and drove her elbow into his flank—and a thick cloud of tobacco scent rose off him.

But it was different now.

No.

To her, the smell of tobacco had always been the scent that eased her heart. And now it felt as though this man were fouling it.

Perhaps it was that anger. The Hongseong Divine Art moved.

—Shff!!

"Gwaaaaagh!!"

She kicked away the man with his chest cleft open, leapt, and slotted into a wing of the Hongseong Sword Formation, unleashing her technique upon the enemies.

A woman knocked sprawling by a fist brimming with starlight let out a vicious, feral shriek and whipped her lash up to strike—

—Shk!!

—and before anyone could blink, a black-haired girl had darted in and cleaved straight through the evil sect woman's arm. That astonishingly keen, flesh-crawlingly cold saberwork belonged to none other than Chae Ryeon. Even on a battlefield drowning in blood and violence, her beaming smile had not faded by a hair, and she remarked to Sa Yun with perfect ease:

"Not bad at all, hmm?"

"...Neither are you."

"Fufu. I am the future eldest disciple of Moon Lotus Pavilion, after all."

"But Chae Jin is the eldest disciple, isn't she?"

"Oh my? And what does that have to do with anything?"

—CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!!

She caught the charging saber artist's blade, booted him back with one long leg, then loosed her blade qi and cleaved through his neck. As Sa Yun's eyes drank in the utter absence of hesitation in her every movement, Chae Ryeon flashed a grin.

"You have to seize what you want with your own two hands, you know. Doesn't the eldest disciple's seat tempt you at all?"

"Not in the slightest."

"Really? Well. That's your judgment to make, I suppose. After all, which seat you occupy isn't what matters. What matters is—"

"That's right. What matters is—"

Sa Yun's sword moved as though it were dancing. Beside her, Chae Ryeon's saber unfolded in dazzling flourishes, cutting down enemy after enemy. Even where blood sprayed and screams burst forth, the two beautiful girls never once stopped moving.

"—that we win."

"—that we protect."

The two finished in the same breath and looked at each other. Then, despite themselves, they both let out a little laugh—and thought the very same thing: I rather like her.

"When this fight is over, will you have a drink with me?"

"Um... I can't drink yet, though."

"They say you learn to drink from your elders. And I happen to be a little older than you."

—CLANG!!

—CLANG!!

Though they had never once fought together before, Sa Yun and Chae Ryeon slipped naturally into rhythm, turning aside and cleaving through every enemy that came at them. And Chae Ryeon grinned.

"I'll buy you that drink at the inn. Which means... you know, don't you?"

"I know."

We have to win this fight. Only then can we protect Seomhwachon. Protect the inn. Protect Yu Wol, who has always been there to help us.

The Hongseong Divine Art began to stir in answer to her will to protect someone. Watching Sa Yun's spirit blaze hotter still, Chae Ryeon smiled.

"Oh, and one more thing."

—SHRAK!!

Chae Ryeon swung her saber and Sa Yun her sword at the two evil sect warriors charging them, and when the pair, unable to withstand the blows, crumpled to the ground bleeding, Chae Ryeon said with a bright, refreshing smile:

"Want to be friends? We could make our debut in the murim together sometime. You haven't even had your first debut yet, have you? I'll help you. I know plenty of places."

"Eldest Senior Sister Hong Ryeon and Senior Sister Yu Hui already promised to come with me when I make my debut, though..."

"Oh my? Is that so? Well, all right then. Fufu. Think it over. And how about we hold a sworn-sisters ceremony or something of the sort? We could ask Innkeeper Yu Wol to help us with it later, couldn't we?"

"Do friends really need to do all that?"

"Honestly, we don't have to—but it's nice to, isn't it~? It's a happy day when a friendship is born, no? And being acknowledged by the very person we're all trying to protect—wouldn't that be lovely too?"

Laughing, she sped off to rejoin the Moonlight Squad. At the sound of Yu Wol's name, Sa Yun caught herself smiling.

That man who, every time they set out on patrol, would insist on sending them off fed—half-forcing dang-gwa sweets, mooncakes, or skewers into their hands. Someone just as kind, just as dear, as the 'uncle' who had always watched over and cared for them, was waiting in that village.

And so Sa Yun pressed the reason she had to win this battle into her heart, once more.

"HYAAAAAP!!"

All else being equal, a soldier held the advantage over a martial artist. Armies fought with long weapons, and they felt no hesitation about armor and shields. Whether or not one wore plate forged of thick iron changed the damage taken enormously, so a martial artist facing heavily armed soldiers needed to be at least two tiers their superior to bring them down.

And the underlings Sama Gun had gathered here were confident they stood at least three tiers above Seomhwachon's soldiers.

So why in the world could they not put them down?

"You bastards!!"

There were several reasons.

The first was the three who led the troops. The magistrate commanding the army as a whole—his direction was sharp, and his reading of the battle keener still. The instant a line looked to be faltering, he would call orders up to the soldiers atop the wooden palisade, and arrows and crossbow bolts would rain support down onto that spot; each time, the attackers' momentum had no choice but to sag.

The second was that old man behind the silver mask, and the officer who wielded a single spear with ghostly mastery. Their martial skill was astonishing enough that they might well have been mistaken for murim fighters in their own right, and they tended to the soldiers with meticulous care while battering Sama Gun's men to pieces. Thanks to them, holding a formation was hard enough—and mounting a coordinated assault harder still.

And then, the third and last.

"Die!!"

He had seized a chance to take a single soldier. Sama Gun's subordinate—the man known by the epithet Cheonhonbido, the Thousand Soul Flying Dagger—smiled coldly and let fly his hidden blades. Bring down that young soldier, then use the gap to strike at the infantry's line. The moment Cheonhonbido smiled at the thought, his flying daggers struck a thread-fine sliver of crimson qi and were batted out of the air.

"...Goddamn it..."

The third reason they were being driven back. And the greatest reason of all.

It was the woman over there—single-handedly contending with Sama Gun and the black-clad fighters, along with Yu Hyo-jin, whose martial might rivaled Sama Gun's own, and in doing so ruling the entire battlefield. Expressionless, she swung her greatsword, and whenever a point grew dire or a spot grew dangerous, she would abandon her own chance to attack and intervene, loosing sword qi with uncanny precision.

He had heard she was strong. But to think she could dominate a battlefield to this degree while keeping the soldiers alive. Cheonhonbido ground his teeth at the staggering martial prowess produced by a single Transcendent.

Perhaps the only mercy in it was how many of them it took to hold her down? The Sword Saint did nothing but snatch endangered soldiers, Hongseong disciples, and Moonlight Squad members from the jaws of death—she pressed no attacks of her own. No doubt because she was busy fending off, or countering, everyone who came at her. At the sight, Sama Gun and his men could barely contain their fury.

The Sword Saint, unfolding an art of pure defense, looked for all the world like a woman trying to protect everyone alone.

"Damn it all!! Attack the soldiers!! Kill the Hongseong disciples!!"

Which meant they had to shake the Sword Saint's focus. If they could not rattle her and take her now, there would be no chance at all. One of the great Iron Tigers had already fallen—and weren't the remaining two crumbling as well? Weren't the Hongseong disciples and Moon Lotus Pavilion's Moonlight Squad pressing their attack, drawing ever closer to the Sword Saint's side?

At Sama Gun's furious roar, the evil sect warriors began to shift. Hearing it, the Sword Saint sighed and swung her greatsword. The lightning qi—and the golden qi loosed by the staggering Iron Blood Golden Emperor—were caught up in the sword qi she wove and snuffed out, and the follow-up strikes of the Iron Blood warriors were likewise neutralized by the fist qi she extended.

"GRAAAGH! You goddamn bitch!!"

Sama Gun roared, his assault blunted yet again. The sight displeased her, and the Sword Saint's hand tightened on the greatsword's hilt.

It would be easier to fight without a care for her surroundings. Easier to fight on nothing but rage at them.

But she shook her head. She could not overlook the deaths of her own people just to vent her anger and irritation.

"Diiie!!"

She slipped past the frothing-at-the-mouth Sama Gun's lunge, kicked him hurtling away, and quelled the fury surging up inside her.

Thinking of him—the man who had strained himself so hard, tried so desperately, to protect them all.