Dodge, Block, Strike
The Meeting Friends Through Martial Arts was one of Yichang's signature attractions.
In a Central Plains world desperately starved of amusement, this martial tournament — held every year once the busy farming season had passed — was both a thrilling spectacle and a grand festival all in one. And this time around, everyone's attention was fixed on it a little more keenly than usual.
“I hear some... Cheong-whatsit Academy is taking on the tournament this year?”
“The Cheongun Martial Arts Academy, out in Yinghua Village. Word is they've put forward an eighteen-year-old girl.”
“Oh, you mean the Jeong family! The one that used to be doing quite well for itself back in the day? Turns out she's the daughter of that house that went utterly bankrupt.”
“Wait — don't tell me that girl over there is the one?”
A fight was always more entertaining the more of a story there was behind it. Words without feet were said to travel a thousand li, and the rumors had long since spread to every last corner of Yichang.
From casual onlookers to seasoned martial artists alike, everyone traded gleaming, excited glances between the seats of honor lined up beside White Horse Academy's grand arena and Jin Cheong-un.
Uuuugh!
Jeong So-so let out an internal scream under the weight of all those stares.
The fate of the Cheongun Martial Arts Academy hung on this duel — and that weighty responsibility rested in her hands. Her heart was racing so fast that she hurriedly searched for Jin Cheong-un.
“M-Master. Do you think I'll be all right?”
“...”
“...?”
She blinked.
“Seriously? Where did he go this time?”
“Cough, cough! Yeah, sis. Master went over there.”
Jeong So-so whipped her head around, and her jaw dropped.
“Senior Hwang. Good to see you again.”
“Y-yes. It's been, it's been a wh... a while.”
“Hm? Why are you so tense?”
“N-no, not at all.”
As if utterly oblivious to the piercing stares around him, Jin Cheong-un was openly pestering Hwang Jong-baek, director of the Blue Dragon Martial Arts Academy.
“Senior, hurry up and share the secrets of running a business. This junior of yours has so much to learn.”
“N-no, you're going to give people the wrong idea...”
“Wrong idea? Aren't we close, you and I?”
“O-our... relationship?”
Jin Cheong-un didn't stop at tormenting him, either.
“Let's go take a little walk.”
He passed the seats where the academy directors sat and made for the section of honor directly behind the sparring stage.
“Well, if it isn't Chief Bailiff Geum, the self-proclaimed paragon of integrity of our very own Yichang! Welcome, welcome.”
“H-how have you been? Heh heh.”
“Quite well, sir. I didn't expect you today.”
“I did serve as mediator, so I could hardly stay away. Ahem. I'm looking forward to today.”
Geum Tae-bang accepted the greeting with a sour expression. Feeling the crowd's eyes converge on him made him feel like he was going to be sick.
Then, mid-cringe, he felt another gaze land on him and turned his head.
“...”
“...”
Their eyes crossed in midair. It was none other than Hwang Jong-baek, who had been tormented by Jin Cheong-un mere moments before.
Him too?
Could it be... you as well?
Geum Tae-bang and Hwang Jong-baek. Though they had never met before, the two men formed a strange bond of sympathy through eye contact alone.
Before long, Jin Cheong-un returned to his seat wearing a thoroughly satisfied expression.
“Running an academy means you need this kind of socializing too, you know.”
“Ah... yes...”
He slumped back against his chair and let a long yawn drift out.
“Yaaawn. Whew, I'm getting sleepy. So when does this thing start?”
“Didn't you go to bed early last night?”
“Different bed. Couldn't sleep a wink — far too uncomfortable.”
Jin Cheong-un always had drowsy eyes, but today they looked heavier than ever. Glancing sideways, So-so thought she caught a faint bloodshot in them as well.
Come to think of it, he was always nodding off wherever he happened to be and yawning constantly, like a man chronically short on sleep. It simply seemed to have gotten a little worse since they'd come to White Horse Academy.
Then it happened.
“Hmph. Some dignity that is.”
Jeong So-so's head snapped around. Similar whispers were drifting in from all directions.
“Look at the state of that man calling himself a master.”
“What can you expect from a muscle-bound oaf with nothing but strength?”
“That poor girl, though. Signing on under a master like that. Tsk, tsk.”
Their seats were tucked into a far corner, but she heard every word. No — it was as if they wanted to be heard.
Jeong So-so clenched her teeth and gripped the hem of her uniform.
It's fine if they insult me. I don't have much confidence in myself either.
And yet.
Why did she feel like this?
Why does it make me this angry when they insult Master and our academy?
She grumbled about her master in her head every single day, but the moment someone else opened their mouth, her insides came to a rolling boil.
Just then, Jeong So-ryong, seated beside her, pointed off to one side.
“Cough! Master, look over there. Someone's going up.”
By the time she followed his gesture and turned her eyes to the central stage, every gaze in the crowd was already fixed there.
A man in immaculate white without a single blemish stepped up onto the arena. None other than Baek Gun-ak.
The moment he ascended, the murmuring crowd fell silent all at once.
“My sincere thanks to everyone who has taken precious time to attend the Meeting Friends Through Martial Arts. I am Baek Gun-ak, acting director of White Horse Academy and vice president of the Martial Arts Academy Association.”
The crowd stirred briefly at that.
“So that's the Flawless Sword.”
“They say he's a Peak Realm master!”
Ceremonial words followed after that. Even so, everyone hung on every one of them.
Soon Baek Gun-ak cried out in a voice swollen with internal power.
“And now, the Meeting Friends Through Martial Arts shall begin — a stage for the children who will light the next generation of Yichang's Jianghu!”
Cheers poured in from every side.
At that roar, Jeong So-so swallowed hard.
She would have to stand in front of all those people.
“So-so. It's starting.”
“What?”
She hastily looked up, and two boys who had been called were already striding confidently onto the wide stage.
“I am called Won Gun-pyeong of Ha Baek Academy. I look forward to our bout.”
“Kwak Yang of White Horse Academy. Let's hurry and start.”
The two boys, holding their wooden swords inverted as they bowed, looked far more grown-up than their years.
“Huaap!”
“Heop!”
In a flash, the pair took up splendid opening stances with ringing shouts.
Jeong So-so stared at them, dazed.
Wow. That's so cool.
The two of them in their striking stances looked like something out of a painting. She had never even been taught poses like that. Then again, she'd trained for less than a year — of course there was a world of difference between her and them...
“What a show.”
Jeong So-so nearly leapt out of her skin at the scathing remark from beside her.
“M-Master! People can hear you!”
“So what?”
Jin Cheong-un clicked his tongue.
“Kids these days, all that surface polish. I can tell exactly how they were taught. Plain as day.”
Astonishingly, even at that very moment the two boys held their opening stances without a twitch — as if they were savoring the attention.
“You remember what I taught you about opening stances?”
“Ah, yes. You said it's the stance that most evenly draws up mind, internal power, and external power from the martial art one has learned, and the transitional movement from which one can shift into any technique of that art.”
“Right. The opening stance is a position built from the ground up for practical use.”
Masters who had cast off the shackles of set forms and fixed techniques could unfold their arts from any position, which was why some of them skipped the opening stance altogether. After all, it could lay a weakness bare.
But lesser practitioners were another matter. For them, the opening stance — which readied body, energy, and spirit for battle the instant it was assumed — could play an enormous role.
“Now then, tell me what you think. How do they look to you?”
“They look cool?”
“...Fine, let's say they do. Anything else?”
“Hmm.”
Jeong So-so tossed out a short answer.
“They're just cool.”
At that very moment, as if on cue, the two boys exchanged a glance and began their bout.
“Haap!”
“First Technique: Genesis Unveiled!”
Clack-clack-clack!
In an instant, the air split with the crack of wooden swords colliding.
“Oooooh!”
“Wow. Impressive, isn't it?”
“Look at that Kwak Yang lad! The grand bearing of White Horse Academy's swordsmanship is as strong as ever!”
As the boys flashed dazzling footwork and darted every which way across the stage, the spectators let out a collective gasp of admiration.
Jin Cheong-un went on, bored as ever.
“Look at that. If they were going to move like that, why did they need the opening stance at all?”
“...”
“And it's the same right now. Why are they moving like that from there? As if it were all scripted.”
“...”
“An opening stance for the sake of having one, and techniques unfolded exactly as some secret manual dictated. What's the point of a display like that?”
Then it happened.
Fwah-bak!
Kwak Yang slid sideways in a flash and brought his sword down with exquisite timing onto his opponent's thigh.
“Ugh!”
Struck in the thigh, his opponent crumpled where he stood.
A cheer erupted from the crowd all at once.
“WAAAAAAH!”
“White Horse! White Horse!”
“...”
Jeong So-so pressed her lips tightly shut.
Setting aside Jin Cheong-un's scathing critique, the truth was she honestly couldn't tell. If anything, it all looked so measured and dazzling that her briefly blazing determination felt like it was shriveling up all over again.
I've only been training for a single year. Real martial arts for barely three months.
The truth was, she had been to this tournament before.
Naturally, not as a competitor. Nor as a spectator, either.
She had never told her master or her brother, but she had come here to earn money. An acquaintance paid her a day's wage to sell grilled skewers.
To the girl trudging around with a skewer tray hung from her neck, the kids her age up on that stage had simply been objects of envy.
Years had passed since then.
Then, as if a rope had been lowered from the heavens, her master had come to find her.
And now I'm the one about to step up there.
And not just to stand there.
She had to win.
Just then, someone nudged her from the side.
“Sis.”
“Huh? Wh-what?”
“They're calling you.”
“...?”
She whipped her head around. The announcer standing on the stage was bellowing at the top of his lungs.
“Jeong So-so of the Cheongun Martial Arts Academy!”
“Seong Mu-gyeol of Saheon Academy!”
It was her turn!
Jeong So-so looked at Jin Cheong-un, the hand clutching her wooden sword trembling.
“M-Ma-Master.”
“That's right. Ma-ma-ma-Master is right here.”
Master, that's going too far.
All he ever does is tease his own student.
“J-just one piece of advice, please! Quickly!”
“Advice...”
Jin Cheong-un pondered for a moment, then tossed it out like an afterthought.
“Dodge, block, strike.”
Jeong So-so just stood there, mouth opening and closing on a blank face.
“Ugh! Forget it! I'm off!”
One way or another, she was absolutely not going down without a fight!
Looking for all the world like the most nervous person alive, Jeong So-so wobbled up onto the stage.
She couldn't get her head straight. Her hands were shaking. Her heart pounded so hard it felt ready to leap right out of her mouth.
Eeeeeee—
A ringing filled her ears.
Perhaps it was the nerves — her opponent was bowing and rattling off something or other, but not a word of it reached her.
Heaven only knows what state of mind she was in, but she fumbled through a bow of her own and raised her wooden sword.
“...gin!”
Only at that fragment did she snap back to her senses.
Thwack!
Her opponent stamped one foot down hard, angled his sword upright, and settled into a menacing stance.
“What are you doing? Hurry up and take your opening stance!”
“Uh, no. Um, well...”
This is our opening stance, though?
Left foot forward, right foot half a step back on the ball of the foot, sword resting at her hip — a basic middle guard. Compared to her opponent's dynamic stance, her own felt utterly pathetic.
“Good grief. You really are nothing special, huh? At this rate it won't even be fun.”
Seong Mu-gyeol sneered and lunged at her, his wooden sword flying in faster than her eyes could follow.
And then.
Whoosh!
Jeong So-so took a single step back — and his sword sliced through empty air.
“Huh?”
Flustered, Seong Mu-gyeol fell back into his opening stance and thrust out his wooden sword like a thunderbolt.
Tak!
In that instant, the wooden sword Jeong So-so had extended just slightly stopped his next technique cold.
“Ohh! So you did have some skill after all!”
“N-no.”
Some skill — she'd simply blocked it, that was all.
Jeong So-so was bewildered.
Her opponent was fast. Strong, flashy, and fierce.
So why?
Why on earth...
Why was it all so obvious?
Too fast to see, yet somehow she could predict it.
No, that couldn't be right.
Was it a trap? It had to be a trap, didn't it?
Something was off. Which meant she shouldn't let her guard down — just wait for the tiniest opening and...
Whap!
“Uuugh!”
Struck in the shoulder, her opponent staggered.
She asked, flustered.
“A-are you okay?”
“Y-you bitch! Are you mocking me!?”
“N-no, I barely tapped you. Why are you cursing...”
“Huaap!”
Seong Mu-gyeol charged in with a violent shout.
Whoosh! Tak-tak! Swish!
And Jeong So-so dodged it all with ease, blocked it.
Whap!
And struck.
“AAAAH!”
She blinked down at him as he screamed in pain.
Don't tell me he's serious?
An expression of sheer disbelief crept across her face unbidden.
It wasn't as if she'd wrenched a joint, knocked him out, drawn blood, or smashed his head or solar plexus. One little hit to the thigh — and he was carrying on like that?
Wait. No way.
If it wasn't a trap.
If that was genuinely his level.
For a moment her mind went blank — and then her entire presence shifted.
“Oh... is that so?”
Krrk!
She gripped her wooden sword just a little tighter.