Week 3 PvP Assessment (6)

Go Hyeon-woo let his iron sword droop until its tip all but brushed the ground. The wind that had been swirling around him likewise settled into stillness.

He kept his eyes fixed on Jang Sam as the man closed the distance at blinding speed, and once again lifted his foot off the ground half a beat late. A sudden, fierce gale blew toward Jang Sam, and as though riding that very wind, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Go Hyeon-woo became one with the current and shot forward. The gap vanished in an instant, and his sword came around.

In a flash, two iron swords and two men crossed.

— Clang!

Jang Sam and Go Hyeon-woo stood with their backs to each other, empty hands stretched out before them. Only belatedly did the tip of a blade, less than a hand-span long, sink into the ground beside Go Hyeon-woo. Near Jang Sam as well, finely shattered fragments pattered down.

The two of them stayed rooted where they stood, silent.

I pieced together the whole course of the battle and gave a slow nod. Well done.

In the first clash, Go Hyeon-woo had responded half a beat late. Not because his skill fell short — he had deliberately held back, to measure more precisely the distance to his opponent, his speed, the inner force carried in the iron sword. The second clash, too, had been strongly experimental in nature. I suspected that [Rapid Torrent] was originally designed for a different purpose, and that he had tweaked it slightly for the sake of a final gambit.

He took damage bit by bit through that trial and error, but in the end Go Hyeon-woo finished his preparations. And he staked everything on the last throw: wringing every measure of speed from a burst gale and concentrating the wind's blades at his sword tip until he wielded a single strike that could stand against Jang Sam's swift sword.

And so, with each side trading their very best move, the result was—

Mutual destruction.

The two of them had been rendered unable to fight at the same moment. Neither so much as twitched even now; they looked untouched on the surface, but their bodies had to be hovering at their limits. Go Hyeon-woo especially, with the internal injuries he'd accumulated earlier stacked on top, was in far worse shape.

"……"

"……"

They were trying to force their bodies to move when even sitting down to circulate their qi would have been a struggle. They seemed to want to say something to each other. No need to guess — it would be about what a fine match it was, about each other's splendid techniques. Martial artists were the sort who staked their lives on trifles like that. I'd grant ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠they had their own brand of romance, but left to open their mouths in that state, I had a feeling blood would come out instead of words.

So I decided to ease my way in.

"That's enough. Don't open your mouths."

I applied [Wind Force] gently, and the two of them crumpled down where they stood.

"Qi circulation first."

"……"

"……"

Perhaps because I'd cut off their timing to speak at just the right moment, both of them obediently folded into cross-legged positions and sank into meditation.

The match result had printed out on the scoreboard while that was going on. Wang Pil had been blasted clear to the far end of the arena, Go Hyeon-woo and Jang Sam were out of the fight and deep in meditation, and the only one still standing was me — a perfectly natural outcome. The duel was a draw, but the match was a win.

Truth be told, we lost the duel.

Judged coldly, Jang Sam's hand should have been raised. The moment he first revealed his skill — the instant that needle-point thrust landed — the outcome had already been decided.

In a one-on-one, had a thrust like that come at me, [Wind Force] couldn't have bailed me out — and before that, I doubted I'd even have noticed he was hiding his abilities at all.

The three exchanges that followed were also largely Jang Sam meeting Go Hyeon-woo on his terms. Between clashes they took brief pauses to reset their stances — pauses Jang Sam was under no obligation to grant; he could have pressed the attack without waiting and ended it then and there. The reason he bothered with the inconvenience was probably nothing more than curiosity about what Go Hyeon-woo's final move would be.

Considering all of that, the fact that they'd only just managed mutual destruction meant their skills couldn't be called equal. It confirmed once more that Go Hyeon-woo's ability still fell a touch short of prospect level.

For now.

There was no need for impatience, though. Go Hyeon-woo had only just begun to grow, and the [Core] rank-up was merely the first step of a long journey. Two weeks of fairly rapid growth, granted — but seen from the big picture, it was one among countless skills and traits.

That said, Go Hyeon-woo climbing to the very heels of the prospects on the strength of his core's growth alone was a result beyond even my expectations. If he crossed blades with Han So-mi or Jo Byeok again right now, he'd still lose in the end — but he'd make them work far harder for it than before. And I was certain that one day he would surpass them both.

Shaking off my thoughts, I studied Go Hyeon-woo's complexion. Still pale. His meditation would take a while yet.

"……"

It was Jang Sam who opened his eyes first. His internal injuries were shallower than Go Hyeon-woo's, so his recovery came faster. The moment his eyes opened, he checked the scoreboard.

"So I lost."

"You did."

He accepted defeat with unshaken calm. I'd sensed it back when he stubbornly stuck to the Three Talents Sword Technique — he wasn't the type to obsess over points. What he obsessed over was something else entirely……

"There's something I want to ask."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Ask away."

"……"

Having declared he would ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠ask, Jang Sam then went quiet for a long while. It seemed to be no easy question; he frowned, lips working hesitantly, before finally forcing it out.

"……Was it that obvious?"

However composed he looked on the outside, the fact that I had seen through his identity at a single glance must have been gnawing at him. I nodded without a second's hesitation.

"Hugely."

"……!"

"It felt excessively ordinary. Which is exactly what made it easy to see through."

"Excessively ordinary made it easy to spot? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Think about it. What kind of place is this school?"

A gathering ground for aspiring heroes-to-be from every corner of the world. A place where anyone less than exceptional couldn't even get through the gates — which meant that here, ordinariness itself became a distinguishing trait.

Something seemed to click, and Jang Sam's gaze deepened.

"I see. I'd believed it was working all this time, but I'd overlooked that aspect."

"That's just your take. The others probably have their suspicions too."

"……What would you have us do, then?"

I pointed out the unnatural parts one by one.

"First, change those aliases to something less tacky. 'Jang Sam' and 'Wang Pil' — a bit much, no? Make your appearance less ordinary while you're at it. And there's no rule saying the sword has to be iron. Something around D-rank would pass unnoticed — there are plenty of those. Also—"

Each point made Jang Sam flinch as though struck squarely in a sore spot, until at last he sank into dejection. Anyone would react much the same way if told to their face, 'You dress terribly, you know.'

In any case, the advice was useful enough that Jang Sam offered his thanks.

"That helped. I'll take it to heart."

Then, as if it were nothing, he cast out another question.

"[Ghost Without Shadow] is……"

"I told you to win first, then ask."

"……So I did."

Not a chance. We'd won, so I had no intention of teaching him a thing.

Jang Sam spoke with a faint trace of lingering regret.

"I will challenge you again."

"Suit yourself."

Truth be told, bringing up [Ghost Without Shadow] in the first place had been a calculated move — to make them come looking for me again later. When that time came, I could stage a rematch with Go Hyeon-woo, or strike a deal the way I'd sold the Cube to Park Nari, trading whatever each side wanted.

"……"

"……"

The conversation lapsed, and an awkward silence settled in. Naturally, my gaze and Jang Sam's both drifted to Go Hyeon-woo. Color had only just begun returning to his face; his recovery would need more time yet.

Unable to wait any longer, Jang Sam brushed himself off and rose.

"I would have liked to exchange a few words before going, but time is not so generous. Tell him it was a good match."

"I will. He'll say the same thing right back."

"Until next time."

And with that, Jang Sam took his leave.

Go Hyeon-woo, exactly as predicted, didn't finish his qi circulation until long after. Having pushed himself so hard, his condition was still poor, but he had recovered enough to move under his own power. Just like Jang Sam, the first thing he did upon opening his eyes was check the scoreboard.

"So we won, then. That fellow……"

"He left already. Said it was a good match."

"I feel the same. How did it look to you, Brother Kim?"

"You fought well. Two probing exchanges, then the final gambit — clean."

It wasn't empty praise; it was my honest impression. Honestly, I'd estimated the odds of defeat as fairly high, and dragging a match like that all the way to mutual destruction was an encouraging result in itself. Given the position Go Hyeon-woo had been in, I didn't think he could have steered it any better.

Perhaps pleased at earning my acknowledgment, Go Hyeon-woo's face brightened.

"As expected. I had a feeling you would see it, Brother Kim."

But as he took a slow look around the arena, his expression gradually turned troubled. He moved to one side and pulled the broken blade tip free of the ground where it had planted itself. The iron fragment crumbled with something like a dying breath and broke apart into still smaller pieces.

Watching the grains scatter, Go Hyeon-woo murmured, almost to himself.

"……It weighs on me, I confess."

"Because of your weapon?"

"Just so. It is not a matter I can keep turning a blind eye to forever."

Go Hyeon-woo's single greatest weakness at present: the iron sword that shattered at the slightest strain. The martial art he had mastered raised wind across the battlefield with his sword qi and carried the property of commanding the surrounding environment. In a sense, it already had one foot in the domain of magic. Wielding such immense power devoured vast amounts of internal energy, and no ordinary weapon could fully contain that force.

If an ordinary martial art was like picking up a pebble with chopsticks, Go Hyeon-woo's was like trying to lift a boulder with them. Small wonder the chopsticks snapped clean through every time.

F-rank weapons were provided in unlimited supply by Dragon Slayer Academy, so using them like consumables was no issue. If I had to guess, the iron swords Go Hyeon-woo hauled around in his inventory probably numbered well into the double digits.

The problem was that swapping a shattered sword for a fresh one inevitably opened a gap.

"It got dicey in your bout with Il Gong, too."

"It did."

Il Gong's skill sat roughly half a step to a full step below Go Hyeon-woo's, and even while dominating a man like that, the moment his iron sword broke, Go Hyeon-woo had been driven briefly onto the back foot. As his duel with Jang Sam had proven, against opponents of equal or greater strength, that gap became all the more lethal.

"It'd be best to deal with it now."

Since we planned to go hunting hidden pieces with Go Hyeon-woo from here on, this weakness needed shoring up as much as possible. In a fight where lives were on the line, the moment your weapon broke was the moment you died.

"It's not something that gets solved in a day or two, so you must have given it some thought. What's your plan?"

"Honestly, the answer is a simple one, is it not? Wield a better sword."

The higher a sword's grade, the finer the metal it used and the fewer impurities it carried. Durability rose in proportion, so an E-rank or D-rank blade would surely outlast an F-rank iron sword.

"Except……"

"They cost a fortune."

The higher the grade, the higher the price climbed along with it. One or two might be managed somehow, but treating them as consumables the way he went through iron swords meant gold coins bleeding out of the wallet in a steady stream. He could carry his sect's sacred relic — that longsword — and never worry again, but he insisted he had yet to earn the right. So the conclusion was that he simply had to use a moderately high-grade sword, and apparently his sect couldn't solve that problem for him — at least, judging by how Go Hyeon-woo's expression had darkened.

"Embarrassing as it is to admit, my finances are not so ample."

"Nothing to be embarrassed about. My entire fortune is ten silver."

I'd blown my starting five silver at the slot machine, earned five back from the entrance ceremony quest, then won another five betting against Shin Byungcheol. Which was how I'd scraped together a grand total of ten silver.

My words seemed to put him at ease, and a faint smile stole across Go Hyeon-woo's face.

"Besides — who ever said weapons have to be bought with money?"

Weapons were, in the end, just items, and the ways to get your hands on items at Dragon Slayer Academy were all but limitless. And of them all, which method offered the easiest access?

I pulled out the student shop catalog.

"How many points do you have?"

[52] The Support Ate It All