Week 3 PvP Assessment (5)

As the start of the match drew near, Wang Pil ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and Jang Sam each drew an iron sword.

I sized them up roughly by eye and matched them against Go Hyeon-woo. 'Even a two-on-one should be manageable.' Of course, that was on the assumption they kept hiding what they really were. If they ever fought for real, a one-on-one alone would give him all the trouble he could handle.

For Go Hyeon-woo, they were opponents against whom victory was hard to predict — but then, warriors grow through desperate battles against foes exactly like these, don't they? My task this round was to make Wang Pil and Jang Sam, who kept their abilities wrapped up tight, actually put them on display. And to manage that, I first had to prove Go Hyeon-woo was worth the showing.

I said the same thing I had back in the two-on-two with Seo Ye-in.

"Try it solo first. If it looks like too much, I'll step in."

"Very well."

Go Hyeon-woo advanced with his iron sword trailing low, at a pace neither hurried nor slow. Perhaps because they had grasped my intent in calling for a two-on-one, Wang Pil and Jang Sam cut me out of the equation entirely and closed in on him alone.

Once the distance had narrowed enough, they split to either flank — Wang Pil coming in with a downward cut, Jang Sam with a horizontal slash. Go Hyeon-woo gave no ground; he strode boldly a full step forward and swung a single stroke.

CLANG!

Both their swords were knocked away in the same instant. Falling back with the deflected blades, the two flowed straight onto the offensive again with movements as smooth as running water. And Go Hyeon-woo matched them, wielding his sword without yielding a single inch even against two opponents at once — blocking the iron blades darting in from every side, batting them wide, and pressing the occasional counterattack of his own.

Three iron swords clashed dozens of times in the space of a few moments.

CLANG-CLANG-CLANG-CLANG!

The swordplay Wang Pil and Jang Sam displayed was deeply familiar. A style built from nothing but plain cuts and thrusts — the fundamentals every swordsman alive passes through at least once.

The Three Talents Sword Technique.

Common faces, common names, iron swords, even the Three Talents — they were trying so hard to look ordinary that it showed. If anything, they had strained so hard it backfired. Surely any other unremarkable school would have served the same purpose?

That said, for mere camouflage, their command of the Three Talents was startlingly good. Wang Pil sat at 460 points, Jang Sam at 689 — which meant that even while stubbornly keeping to iron swords and the basics, each had claimed a fair number of wins within his own bracket. Jang Sam in particular carried more points than Il Gong, whom I'd crossed in an earlier match. If that man ever showed his full, unhindered strength...

'Rising-star caliber.' So this was what they meant when they said my matchup luck was good.

CLANG! CLANG!

Go Hyeon-woo had made himself comfortable with the two-on-one in no time at all, and he was pressing the attack hard — slipping past Wang Pil's strikes with ease and pouring every scrap of the leftover margin into squeezing Jang Sam. Each time Jang Sam's guard cracked, another sliver of his health shaved away.

Watching it unfold, I sensed the moment had come. 'This much should do.' If he couldn't so much as beat the Three Talents, demanding 'show me your real skills!' would have been an outright joke. That was why I'd put Go Hyeon-woo into the two-on-one first — to prove he had earned the right to talk big. The next step was mine.

I stepped straight into the fray at its most fiercely contested moment.

"Hold up — everyone, stop."

"......?"

"?"

At my word, Go Hyeon-woo obligingly withdrew his sword and stepped back. Wang Pil and Jang Sam stopped where they stood as well, fixing me with wary looks.

"How about you two fight us for real?"

"We are fighting for real."

Jang Sam answered, puzzled. They could play innocent all they liked — the evidence was already damning. I said, flat and certain:

"No, you're not. You're both still hiding a good deal more."

"I don't know on what basis you make that claim."

If he wanted basis, I had it in endless supply. I pointed at the hand Wang Pil kept hanging idle at his side.

"That one fights reverse-grip, doesn't he?"

"...!"

"His swings keep curling inward. Looks like he hasn't quite broken the habit yet."

Wang Pil still wore his mask of blank expression, but for one instant a tremor of agitation flashed across it. He quickly registered his slip and let out a small sigh.

"...Sharp eye. But we have no intention of revealing anything more."

"Worried about the replay? We're fine keeping this one private. We won't breathe a word of it anywhere else, either."

Keeping a replay private in a two-on-two PvP assessment required the consent of all four participants. I was the one proposing it, and Go Hyeon-woo seemed to have caught on to the shape of things well enough. Knowing his temperament, he would want a proper contest even if it cost him a few points — so all that remained was a yes from the other side.

Jang Sam's eyes thinned.

"Why do you want to see our strength that badly? Wouldn't an easy win and easy points serve you just as well?"

"What good are points if your strength never grows?"

"I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠couldn't agree more. Win or lose, I want to cross blades at our utmost."

Go Hyeon-woo chimed in to back me up. Even after all that, Jang Sam and Wang Pil still looked unswayed — and I understood their position well enough to nod slowly. Come to think of it, demanding that a warrior bare his hidden strength was rudeness itself. For men of that particular stripe, information about one's martial arts could decide whether they lived or died.

"Right — you'd rather not show it. Then how about a little motivation?"

In moments like these, dangling a lure worked far better than leaning on them. I let a single word slip from my lips, quiet as a murmur.

"Phantom Shadowless."

"...!"

Jang Sam snapped the bait right out of the air.

"You know that name?"

"Curious?"

"I am."

"Win first. Then ask."

"......"

The bait proved spectacularly effective. Killing intent, sinister and sharp, began to seep into both men's eyes. Nothing had changed but their gazes, yet the everyday ordinariness that had clung to them until now vanished without a trace. Their voices, too, went glacial.

"Don't regret this."

Jang Sam and Wang Pil slid their iron swords away and let both arms hang slack at their sides. Their presence dimmed, faded — until they stood square before my eyes and still registered as barely there at all.

The instant Go Hyeon-woo felt the wrongness of it and moved to take a defensive posture, Jang Sam's silhouette shot out, a single streak of light. In the blink of an eye he was pressed tight against Go Hyeon-woo, one hand driving forward.

KRAK!!

The iron sword burst into fragments that sprayed in every direction, and Go Hyeon-woo was flung backward, rolling across the ground several full turns.

A whole slab of his health carved away in one stroke. I had focused Wind Force at exactly the right moment and hauled him sharply back, so the blow had only landed shallow — and even so, the damage topped twenty percent. Had it connected true, he would have taken a critical wound and dropped out of the fight.

"......"

What Jang Sam held in his hand now was shorter than a standard sword, longer than a dagger — needle-slender and wickedly pointed, lacquered pitch-black. In the dark, you would never spot it coming. It was a weapon bound tightly to what Jang Sam really was: one of those who mingle among the ordinary and wait, baring their fangs only at the instant the hunt begins.

'An assassin.' Shin Byung-cheol had brought it up when we talked about the hidden prodigies — that the Black Way had one more rising star tucked out of sight. From the moment I first saw Jang Sam, the hunch that this was that Black ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Way prospect had been strong, and with his true strength laid bare, there was no more doubt.

"Nngh..."

Go Hyeon-woo pushed himself up, swaying. He had barely steadied himself and raised his eyes forward when another of Jang Sam's thrusts came howling in.

SHRAAAK!

With a blade whittled down to little more than a hilt, Go Hyeon-woo stirred up a faint sword wind and threw himself sideways. For now, scraping by on evasion was the best he had.

Then, from behind me, Wang Pil's voice.

"Got time to be looking around?"

While Jang Sam and Go Hyeon-woo were locked together, he had ghosted up on me — fast, silent — and claimed my blind side. A chill rolled over me as though winter had arrived between one heartbeat and the next. In the moment before Wang Pil's dagger could punch through the back of my neck, I gathered force into one hand, perfectly composed, and answered.

"I do."

A vast palm print crashed down over Wang Pil,

BOOM—!!

and he shot away like a comet, trailing a single afterimage. He was flying faster, even, than Jang Sam had been charging at Go Hyeon-woo — and holding that speed intact, he vanished beyond some far, invisible edge of the field.

"...!"

"...!"

Go Hyeon-woo and Jang Sam stared at me, dumbfounded. They would have recognized Great Palm Imprint, but the sight of a man being launched like a cannonball was probably a first for both of them. To the two of them, still fumbling for words, I extended a hand with the utmost courtesy.

"Please — finish what you started."

"...So that was why you proposed going private."

"You didn't see it coming?"

I had made the privacy offer intending to draw out their real strength, true — but with no replay running, I got to cut loose just the same. Ordinarily I rationed Amplification and Wind Force, or used them as inconspicuously as I could manage; when a match went private, those shackles came off. In a truly desperate spot, I could even reach for Inferno Fist. Of course, the whole point of this exercise was a one-on-one between Go Hyeon-woo and Jang Sam, so I had no intention of lifting another finger.

To Jang Sam, still eyeing my involvement warily, I said in no uncertain terms:

"Relax. From here on out, I'm just a spectator."

The two of them would fight their one-on-one in earnest, and if Go Hyeon-woo went down — well, I would decide then whether to step back in.

Jang Sam asked on, his expression still dubious.

"...Fighting at your true strength. Is that really your goal?"

"That it is."

"......"

Jang Sam glowered at Go Hyeon-woo for a long moment, as though sorting through his thoughts. Before long he seemed to reach a decision: he put away the black needle and drew his iron sword once more.

"Fine. You'll have it your way."

For a heartbeat I thought he might be falling back on the Three Talents, but the stance he took was worlds apart from it — and the killing intent rising off him was viciously thick. Every sign said he meant to unfold with the iron sword the same assassin's art he had shown with the needle. That, presumably, was his one true martial art.

"Whew..."

Go Hyeon-woo drew a long breath in and out, steadying himself. He swapped out the broken iron sword and squared his stance, and a wind from somewhere coiled around him. With each satisfied that the other was ready —

Jang Sam's silhouette blurred, starting from the legs. He crushed the distance in a single bound, his iron sword drawing a thrusting line through the air, and a lightning-quick blade flew straight for Go Hyeon-woo's heart.

SHRAAAK!

Go Hyeon-woo's answer came half a beat late. He just barely managed to beat the incoming sword aside —

RAAANG—!

— but not to shield himself completely, and a long wound opened down his arm.

Go Hyeon-woo and Jang Sam reset their stances as though nothing had happened. Jang Sam moved first yet again, attacking with the very same thrust. This time, before swinging, Go Hyeon-woo set the wind wrapped around him in motion, choking down the space ahead. Jang Sam's pace seemed to slacken, if only a hair — then he paid it no mind and carved on through the wind.

The two iron swords crossed —

RAAANG—!

— and this time he conceded a single cut to his flank. His color had gone gray, his balance teetering as though the slightest shove would drop him, a thread of blood running down from the corner of his mouth. But Go Hyeon-woo swallowed the surging blood as if it were nothing and swept his lips clean; somewhere in there he had traded his halved sword for a fresh one without missing a beat, and settled back into his stance.

"......"

Jang Sam kept his eyes locked on that Go Hyeon-woo, saying nothing. With both of them ready, neither would commit; they let the tension steep a little longer, reading one another. Almost certainly because Jang Sam had noticed that Go Hyeon-woo's bearing was no longer what it had been.

Jang Sam spoke.

"This is the last exchange, then?"

"It is."

"Then I'd like the name of the technique in advance."

After all, one of them would likely fall with this final clash. Go Hyeon-woo nodded, and opened his mouth.

[51] The Support Ate It All