The Namgung Family Won't Be Easy Either
I get how hard the eldest, Namgung Seo-geon, has been working. But if effort alone solved everything, most of the murim's problems wouldn't even exist.
That said, it's not as if both brothers lack talent. No matter how I look at it, the second son, Namgung Seo-jin's understanding and feel for martial arts are anything but ordinary.
And it seems Namgung Seo-geon knows that fact all too well.
The eight boys who'd been thoroughly thrashed by him groaned as they dragged themselves up, helping each other if they were friends—but the Namgung brothers kept a bit of distance, somewhat awkward.
And now came the moment everyone had been waiting for: the final group.
"You kids whispered and plotted away—got your preparations ready?"
"We've worked hard, sir!" Geum Jongha bellowed.
Paeng Mu-hyeok let out a booming laugh and hefted his saber high.
"Come on, then!"
What could a bunch of kids who had never learned or practiced the United Front Formation accomplish with just a brief huddle? In truth, Paeng Mu-hyeok had divided them into groups for a many-sided game, where one expert faced multiple novices.
Oh ho, not bad?
As he swung his saber hard at the two boys charging straight at him, Paeng Mu-hyeok leaped back a step to parry a thrust coming from his right.
As if they'd been waiting for that, his son Paeng Ju-ran and a Danmok branch family boy dashed in from behind.
"Oh, going for the rear?"
Not a bad bold idea in this situation. But wasn't that only for fights between amateurs?
"Ha! No chance!"
In the realm of experts, one moved like light itself. Paeng Mu-hyeok smacked away the frontal swords with force, then shoved the saber thrust from behind to disrupt the boy beside him.
Oh...?
But the fierce-looking boy had already boldly stepped forward as Paeng Mu-hyeok attacked Paeng Ju-ran, dodging the stumbling boy to launch his own strike!
And right on cue, Danmok Ryeon's sword, which had evaded his attack and caught its breath, thrust in.
The tip carried enough inner energy and power to be lethal.
"...!"
After a few exchanges of strikes, the kids dropped one by one to the ground.
The last two standing were Moyong Seol-ho pressing from the front and Danmok Ryeon from the flank.
But that didn't last. Moyong Seol-ho couldn't withstand the force of Paeng Mu-hyeok's saber slamming down like it was uprooting him and sank to his knees.
The fresh humiliation blazed in his eyes—a fire Paeng Mu-hyeok quite liked—but more than that, he turned to the last girl standing with a face full of fascination.
Her sword arm trembled faintly, but her eyes burned as clear and sharp as ever.
Paeng Mu-hyeok leveled his saber and asked, "How many more exchanges can you manage?"
"If you keep going like now, seventeen."
A light chill prickled Paeng Mu-hyeok's arms. That was exactly what he'd calculated.
"Your strength doesn't look that great—how did you hold out?"
He knew, but asked anyway. This was a lesson, after all.
The girl, sweat beading on her face, replied, "I didn't endure a force I couldn't withstand. I let it flow past."
"Good. Seventeen exchanges, you said. Let's see it."
"Pardon?"
Danmok Ryeon seemed a touch flustered but gripped her sword without hesitation.
Wanting his son to watch this bout closely, Paeng Mu-hyeok moved more roughly than before.
One exchange, two, three, four...
The girl's sword and Paeng Mu-hyeok's saber danced together.
That's it—flow it off, flow it off, flow... counterattack!
Paeng Mu-hyeok jolted in shock mid-flow, pouring all his power into sending Ryeon flying just before it landed.
Her whole body launched backward by the saber, tumbling three full rolls.
Dirt smeared her cheeks and hair as Ryeon blinked wide-eyed at Paeng Mu-hyeok.
Even he looked flustered at suddenly blasting her away so fiercely.
"Uh... w-well, on second thought, giving you special instruction alone wouldn't be fair!"
"Ah... yes, sir..."
The startled girl blinked her round eyes a few times, then nodded in acceptance. Seeing that made the back of Paeng Mu-hyeok's neck flush beet red.
She'd faced eight peers alongside her, then held out alone until exhausted—her final weakened strike.
Yet it had pinpointed his weakness with chilling precision. Enough that he'd instinctively repelled it with full force.
As if viewing his saber style from high above, pricking the most vulnerable spot with a needle.
Feeling shame at letting one move from such a small, frail child escalate things this far, Paeng Mu-hyeok didn't show it beyond his reddened face.
As Ryeon struggled up from her sprawl, not just her group but Danmok Seong, Danmok Bi, and the branch kids all rushed over to help her up.
Paeng Mu-hyeok welcomed the commotion, catching his breath.
Danmok Hyeon-seong's daughter, they say...
That genius died young, casting a lifelong shadow over his peers they could never surpass.
Did shadows not vanish in light but revive instead?
Paeng Mu-hyeok unwittingly glanced at his own son.
Living with a peer you could never beat for life was harsh punishment—but a blessing to those who accepted it.
Just look at Moyong Seol-ho, eyes already flashing as he stared at Danmok Ryeon. His thoughts were obvious.
No, no, no!
Paeng Mu-hyeok shook his head to clear the notion. He couldn't think his son would lose to some other family's kid already.
"A-alright, then. Let's quickly review and wrap up the lesson."
Paeng Mu-hyeok deliberately avoided Ryeon's gaze, rambling whatever came to mind.
* * *
"It stings..."
She hadn't been badly hurt, but tumbling across the dirt a few times left sand falling from her hair and her scraped palms smarting.
Only after stepping away from the kids did Ryeon check her scrapes—then she startled at the presence behind her.
Moyong Seol-ho stood right at her back, face so grave it bordered on shock, staring fixedly.
"Whoa! You scared me. W-what? What's up?"
"Can you tell me how you managed to face down Elder Paeng to the very end just now?"
Moyong Seol-ho asked solemnly, eyes locked on her.
Ryeon, hand awkwardly raised to her stinging palm, looked at him and said, "Well...?"
He looked a bit deflated but pleaded earnestly, "Could you explain it step by step, breath by breath? Please. Of course, I'll... pay for the lesson."
His face was stiff, as if bracing for whatever price she named—he'd pay it all.
Ryeon studied that face, then changed the subject. "Like the lesson just now said, I just let the attacks flow past."
"But you didn't lose."
"Didn't you see me roll backward three times at the end?"
She showed her palm, but Moyong Seol-ho seemed blind to it.
With a frustrated expression and voice, he pressed on. "I tried blocking then countering, but it didn't work. How do you let it flow? If you flow it off, you can't counter—how...?"
Ryeon gazed at him, fiddling with her tousled hair as she thought.
Moyong family, northern edge. Closest to North Sea Binggung among them, and straightforward personality.
Straightforward to the point of seeming provocative at times, but with that talent and diligence yielding real results, no one could push back.
Plus, Moyong Chwi-ryeo willingly handling errands for North Sea Binggung meant they were more than mere friends.
"Want me to tell you?"
Moyong Seol-ho nodded vigorously at her whisper.
"You said you'd pay any price earlier, right?"
"Uh, y-yeah."
His face tensed, as if calculating the largest sum he could imagine—already burdensome.
Ryeon glanced around, confirmed no one nearby, and replied, "If I tell you this, you and I become true friends from now on."
"...True... friends?"
"Yeah."
"...Are there fake friends?"
"Sure are."
"What's a true friend?"
"No betraying each other, sharing honest feelings, no hiding thoughts, staying close and giving your all to each other. Like me helping you with this, for instance."
"...!"
"So if I need help, you'll help me too."
"That's... that's obvious."
Moyong Seol-ho replied stiffly, face flushing a bit.