Practical, Domineering, Ruthlessly Thorough
Haibei Paeng Clan had shown off their prowess in the recent battle against Blood Valley. There was a reason for that.
"Hm, strong up front means the back is..."
"This dao style is weak in the rear, so multiple people up front..."
Ryeon and Moyong Seol-ho, speaking at the same time, shut their mouths simultaneously. Ryeon met his startled gaze and hurriedly cut in before he could say anything.
"Make the front strong! Overwhelm them! It's a style that relatively ignores the rear—doesn't care about it."
How could she say "weak in the back" right in front of the successor to that dao style? Ryeon had that much common sense.
'But Seol-ho doesn't seem to...'
"So I think, out of the eight, five up front to clash first, while one of the remaining three stays by the elder's side, and two circle behind to strike. What do you think?"
Ak So-hyeong, who had been listening silently to Ryeon's idea, asked, "The side—left or right?"
"Right."
Moyong Seol-ho answered quickly. Ak So-hyeong glanced around, wondering if he was the only one not following, then relaxed a bit upon realizing the other six were equally baffled.
"Why the right?"
Ak So-hyeong pressed, and Moyong Seol-ho replied, "The elder's left-handed."
"What?"
All six kids whipped their heads toward Paeng Mu-hyeok without thinking. Facing him, they'd momentarily mixed up left and right, so they clenched and unclenched their fists to check, murmuring softly.
"...Right now...! The elder's holding the dao in his right hand."
This time, Moyong Seol-ho looked at Ryeon. She glanced at Paeng Mu-hyeok, then covered her mouth with a smile.
"That's a feint. Makes you think he's right-handed on purpose. Even if a sharp-eyed kid spots it by chance, it'll still seem like right-handed."
"Then how'd you know he's left-handed?"
Paeng Ju-ran looked a bit creeped out.
"His left arm's thicker than the right. Left leg's a touch further forward than the right."
"You can... see that?"
Ak So-hyeong asked, deflated, but Ryeon pressed on without responding.
"The elder won't just let someone slip behind, so the rear attackers need deep understanding of their own arts, quick reactions, and genius reflexes. They have to handle more than just straight-up techniques, so I'd like Sin-yu and Ju-ran for that."
"......"
"......"
Everyone fell silent at Ryeon's torrent of words, until Moyong Seol-ho spoke.
"I'm the strongest. Wouldn't it be better if I went back?"
"No, you..."
Ryeon trailed off, pinching her brow in a daze. Ak So-hyeong jumped in rebelliously.
"Hey! Wh-what kind of talk is that?"
"Is it wrong? Are you stronger than me?"
Moyong Seol-ho asked calmly, as if genuinely curious. Ak So-hyeong's face flushed beet red.
They'd all trained together freely the night before. That was why Moyong Seol-ho didn't outright deny Ryeon's words but gently suggested, "Wouldn't it be better if I went?" He trusted her judgment even if it differed from his own. And that meant they'd all felt the gap in their skills firsthand.
Ryeon spoke almost frantically, as if on the verge of fainting.
"No, Seol-ho, you have to draw the elder's eyes up front so the others can slip behind! It's a front-strong dao style, so we need front-strong fighters too, right?"
"Makes sense. Got it. I'll take front. You?"
"Side. Geuk-rim and you on the front line. Solid basics for Jong-ha and So-hyeong, and little Bi in the rearmost front, striking between your attacks."
"Yeah, got it."
"Understood."
"Yep."
"Yesss!"
Moyong Seol-ho, Seo Geuk-rim, Mae Sin-yu, and Danmok Bi answered in turn.
Eight in a group—one proposes, four agree, the rest three follow quietly. But Paeng Ju-ran grabbed Ryeon with an uneasy look.
"Obviously, I've never flanked my father... Never even thought to."
"So start thinking now."
"Th-that works?"
"Truth is, eight of us is a disadvantage too. No coordination practice..."
"Still, we push to our limits. Giving up preemptively isn't a martial artist's way."
Moyong Seol-ho said sternly. Paeng Ju-ran stared at him, drained.
"Getting thrashed by Dad might change your mind. Even you."
"Even then, we challenge with indomitable spirit."
"No, I mean... N-never mind, I'll do my best..."
Ryeon thought Danmok Seong would have been perfect here, then shooed the kids away.
"Oh! Anyone done joint assault formations?"
Ryeon gauged the remaining time. She'd read books on formations evolved for groups against the strong, but never applied them in practice.
"Isn't that kinda cowardly? Ganging up on one person."
"Cowardice is using that as an excuse to ignore evil."
"...!"
Ak So-hyeong looked ready to scream at Moyong Seol-ho refuting him again, but averted his eyes from those clear pupils, cowed.
"Damn, scared of shit..."
"So-hyeong, speak clearly if you've got gripes. Mumbling like that..."
Ryeon cut in with a near-screaming face and barreled ahead.
"Right, no one's done it! Fine! Front line Seol-ho and Geuk-rim both sword styles, so basic thrust—both right-handed, so rearmost left: Jong-ha, center Danmok Bi, right So-hyeong. Good?"
"...Hm."
Moyong Seol-ho's brow arched. Ryeon knew he'd caught the implication. Far-left Geum Jong-ha could swing his dao unhindered. It trusted his power somewhat—but Moyong Seol-ho took it as doubting his sword.
"None of us can break the vital guard yet. We give our all. Sin-yu behind me, Ju-ran left of the vital guard to slip rear."
"Dad's left-handed, but you want me on the left?"
Ryeon gripped his hands solemnly.
"You're his son—you know him best. You'll do best among us."
Encouraging words, but Paeng Ju-ran shook his head violently, yanking free like scorched.
"Not on me! That face! Those eyes! Useless. Only So-hyeong falls for that!"
"What? What'd I do now?!"
Ak So-hyeong whipped around at his name. As Ryeon smiled soothingly at him, Paeng Ju-ran skipped Moyong Seol-ho—pointless on him—and whispered to Geum Jong-ha.
"Yeah, only So-hyeong moves when sweet-talked like that. Not me."
Paeng Ju-ran backed away insistently, but Geum Jong-ha just gave him a pitying Buddha gaze.
'Strong denial means strong affirmation, huh...'
Time up, Paeng Mu-hyeok slyly opened his eyes. Kids in their teens scheming was just cute—except one group.
'Hm. Danmok Ryeon, was it? Leading self-training at Kyunghang Yunryeon too...'
He'd thought her revival sparked zeal, but their huddled whispers were logical, incisive. Even Murim Alliance strategists with this headcount and power gap wouldn't differ much.
Paeng Mu-hyeok saved Danmok Ryeon's group for last, handling others methodically. Some moved transparently, expecting no miracles; others surprised with grit.
'Hm. This one's from Danmok Clan, wields dao solo...'
He'd heard from his chattering son. Kids on unique paths shine differently young. Against Danmok Seong's group, he paid extra care. His son might call it just thrashing, but he did.
And facing the group with Namgung Seo-geon—the one he'd eyed till Namgung estate—Paeng Mu-hyeok inwardly clicked his tongue.