Fear of Death
“Where do you think you’re going? If you started it, then you’d better see it through to the end.”
Before acting, there was always room for hesitation. But once you’d acted, you had to do it properly. Especially in a case like this, where if you didn’t break them so thoroughly they’d never dare crawl back up again, they’d just pull the same stunt all over again next time.
The moment Lee Taehoon drove his sword forward, Song Minwoo started screaming.
“Get lost... Get the hell away from me!”
— Crack! —
Lee Taehoon struck his face with the pommel of his sword. The bastard stared ahead with a dazed look, and Taehoon pressed the blade against his throat again.
“Y-you’re not really gonna stab me with that, so why don’t you just put it down? Sh-shit... You’re not seriously planning to kill me, are you?”
As Song Minwoo shivered and tried to bluff his way through it, Lee Taehoon whispered to him.
“Think I can’t really do it? Then I’ll kill you for real, so don’t come crying later.”
For a split second, Lee Taehoon bared his killing intent and moved his hand.
“Ghk... Kk-kh...”
Song Minwoo clutched at his own throat and writhed in pain.
For a while he gagged and choked as if a blade had truly been driven into his neck, then passed out on the spot.
— H-how did that happen?
— He didn’t even move, so why...
The lackeys standing beside Song Minwoo looked baffled. He hadn’t been cut, yet he’d fainted, writhing as though he had been slashed open.
It was simple enough. You compressed your killing intent to an extreme degree and released it at your opponent. Then you followed it with the corresponding preparatory motion. Once a person reached a certain level, they could infer the next move from killing intent alone, and prediction became reality inside the mind.
From an ordinary person’s perspective, it was like flinching when someone far away only pretended to tickle you, or feeling your mouth water when you watched someone else bite into a lemon. The brain, fooled by a powerful memory.
“Take him and get him out of here.”
Lee Taehoon nudged Song Minwoo with his foot, and the men hurriedly supported him and fled as though running for their lives.
“Pathetic.”
Min Sua clicked her tongue as she watched them go. It was ridiculous—having such flimsy power and then banding together just to try and wield it.
Soon after, Choi Daeun lowered her head to Lee Taehoon in gratitude.
“Thank you for helping me. If you hadn’t stopped him, I think I would’ve been hit.”
Lee Taehoon glanced at Choi Daeun for a moment, then gestured for her to follow.
“If you’ve got priority, then that means you can take the test whenever you want, right?”
“Yes... that’s true, but...”
“Then let’s step outside for a bit.”
Watching Song Minwoo act so arrogantly and recklessly made him want to ensure Choi Daeun didn’t fail—or even end up with a poor score. At the very least, he wanted one of the two qualification tests to come out higher than that smug bastard Song Minwoo’s.
It was hard to improve swordsmanship in a short time. In that case, he’d teach her things she could absorb quickly.
They moved to an open space outside. There were no people around, and Min Sua stood at a slight distance with her arms folded, eyes bright with curiosity, while Choi Daeun asked in a tense voice,
“What are we doing here...?”
“The first qualification test is a fight against a Dark Hound. I’m going to teach you the most effective ways to deal with one. First, draw your sword.”
Choi Daeun drew her sword with a reluctant expression. Then Lee Taehoon released his killing intent in an instant.
“Hk...”
Choi Daeun’s body swayed for a moment. Her hands began to tremble violently, and she instinctively started to step back.
“Don’t retreat. The core of a Dark Hound releases killing intent when it feels threatened, dulling its opponent’s movements. That’s why most people know exactly which one is the core, and still lose it at the very last second.”
Lee Taehoon gave the order again, firmly.
“Raise your sword. And walk forward. There’s no monster here that can hurt you, and no enemy either.”
— Whoosh! —
He unleashed his killing intent again, but this time she took small steps forward. He’d assumed it was something she should be able to do naturally, yet as he watched, he was a little surprised.
Even though I’m holding back to a reasonable degree—hell, even though there’s no real malice in this killing intent—she’s adapting fast.
He had thought she might collapse to the ground a few times, but instead she slowly kept moving forward. Even while breaking out in a cold sweat, she inched ahead. He figured the reason she was pushing herself so hard was probably because she had a very real reason she had to pass this time.
For her younger siblings... for the kids waiting at home...
Choi Daeun had more than enough reasons she couldn’t back down. She had already spent around 1.5 million won on her entrance expenses. If she failed, she’d have to give up all the extra benefits she could earn here. The foundation and certification needed to work as a hunter were things she could only obtain by graduating from the academy.
For her, with every last penny precious, the entrance exam was the final chance she had to do something for her younger siblings. There wouldn’t be a second.
As Choi Daeun fought through the pain and moved forward, Lee Taehoon stepped in with his own sword next. Then he slashed.
— Clang! —
The two blades met with a sharp crack, and Choi Daeun’s body was shoved backward with the force.
“Relax your shoulders when you hold the sword. If you put too much strength into it, your movements get sluggish, your rotation weakens, and your power drops too.”
— Claaang! —
The blades collided again. This time it was a rising strike from low to high.
“When you meet your opponent’s blade, don’t close your eyes. A sword isn’t swung just once. If an attack has started, then there are follow-up strikes waiting behind it. The only time a sword is in its most honest position, suspended in the air, is when the two blades have just clashed. The same goes for a monster’s arm or its teeth. Even closing your eyes a little means giving up the advantage you could have had, and that’s no different from suicide. Figure out where the blade is going next after the clash.”
— Clang! —
“When you block an opponent’s sword, don’t try to shove it back with brute strength. If their attack comes straight on, twist your body and let the force slide off. Fighting head-on when you lack the strength is something only idiots do. Letting their force flow past you is better anyway, because it also throws off their stance when you counter. Twist your body as if you’re parrying at an angle.”
— Clang! —
“But when you twist to deflect, don’t get so focused on letting the force pass that you break your own stance. The reason you deflect an attack is to preserve your strength and throw off your opponent’s posture so your next strike matters. The key is the counterattack. If you can’t follow up, then deflecting means nothing at all.”
— Clang! —
— Crash! —
Choi Daeun hurriedly tried to block the blade, but this time her sword was knocked completely up into the air. As she stood flustered, Lee Taehoon said coldly,
“Real combat isn’t some sparring match. You don’t have to use a sword as your only weapon, and dropping your sword doesn’t mean you’ve lost yet. If you lose your sword, raise your bare hands. Then watch your opponent’s movements. In fact, losing your sword can become your chance. Your opponent will be so focused on keeping you from picking it back up that they’ll have their entire attention locked on that spot. Keep watching their movements. And if there’s no chance to retrieve your sword, use whatever else you can.”
Lee Taehoon scooped up a handful of sand from the ground and scattered it.
“Hk...”
“Don’t put honesty and procedure first in a fight. After all, the only one who can keep posturing to the end is the one who stays alive. If there’s anything around you that can be used, use it. Whether it’s a corpse, an arm, or the tooth of a dead monster.”
This time, Choi Daeun hurriedly changed her stance, scooping up a small amount of sand from the ground and throwing it at Lee Taehoon. But he dodged it with a light movement.
As Choi Daeun froze, he immediately raised his sword and pressed it to her throat.
“A fight doesn’t end until someone dies. Don’t despair just because one method got shut down. If the blade still hasn’t gone through your neck, then you can still counter at any moment. If you’re not dead, you can still move. And if you can still move, then it’s too soon to give up.”
Lee Taehoon looked down at Choi Daeun’s feet. She caught his meaning, lifted her leg, and kicked his sword upward from below.
— Clang! —
Lee Taehoon’s sword flew into the air, and the two of them were left facing each other with empty hands. There was a ferocity in Choi Daeun’s eyes that hadn’t been there before, and she carefully scanned for anything nearby that could be used as a weapon while never letting her gaze leave the person in front of her. Then she tossed the scabbard she’d been carrying, stealing his vision for an instant, and moved in to strike his neck with the edge of her hand.
— Thud! —
Lee Taehoon seized her wrist, and only then did he grin to himself.
Now she’s becoming somewhat usable.
He didn’t think this short sparring session could suddenly make Choi Daeun absurdly stronger. But at the very least, she wouldn’t stupidly give up in a situation where she could keep fighting. She wouldn’t fight honestly, and she wouldn’t respond lazily either. Seeing is believing. One experience was worth a hundred explanations, after all. He let go of her wrist and said quietly,
“Let’s go take the test now.”
Choi Daeun nodded with a determined expression and walked ahead first. Before long, Min Sua, who had been watching from behind, spoke softly.
“You said you’d never done swordsmanship before, but you totally fooled me. Could you spar with me sometime too?”
“We’ll see.”
Lee Taehoon answered briefly, then headed toward the examination grounds.
Suddenly, he remembered the words Song Minwoo had been spouting.
“You’re taking advice from some bastard like that? Ask me instead. I’m deeply versed in swordsmanship, and I’ve been on the elite track since I was little.”
By now, Song Minwoo would probably have come to after fainting. If he hadn’t, it didn’t matter. He’d hear about it sooner or later anyway.
What kind of result would come from the advice the bastard had looked down on?
Now, it was time to see with his own eyes.