Liquor Tasting Party (2)
They had just begun a sparring match—what they called a bimu.
And it wasn't hard to spot Captain Yeo Eung-wan's brother. He was one of the two warriors currently locked in combat.
Yet he held no weapon.
His opponent, on the other hand, wielded a sword.
Was he doing this to torment the man somehow?
"Min, you good with bare hands?"
"I'm fine."
"No sword, that's okay?"
"I'm fine."
The instructors and warriors acting as referees asked him several times if bare hands were truly alright, but he insisted it was.
So it wasn't about tormenting him.
But then why fight without a weapon?
Maybe he'd mastered some fist or kicking art?
Thwack!
The signal drum sounded, and the bimu began.
The two warriors circled slowly, probing for openings.
In that instant—
Whoosh!
The sword-wielding warrior charged first, slashing down at Min.
Swish.
I couldn't hide my surprise.
Min dodged as if brushing past the blade, slipping inside his opponent's guard. With his left hand, he struck the man's right wrist, sending the sword clattering away.
Then, in one fluid motion, he hooked his opponent's back leg with his foot.
"Whoa!"
The opponent toppled backward with ridiculous ease...
Fwoosh!
...and Min's fist halted right before the man's nose.
It all happened in a flash.
Everyone stared in stunned silence. Even I, at the Super First-rate realm, was impressed by his movements— to the other warriors, it must have looked instantaneous.
But those movements... they were unmistakably those of a swordsman.
Sword specialists and fist fighters move differently.
Imagining what would have happened if he'd held a sword myself, I suddenly understood why this Min warrior had gone bare-handed.
"M-Min warrior wins!"
"Woooah!"
The watching warriors erupted in cheers.
"Incredible!"
"That was insane!"
Praise rained down on him.
I appreciated their mindset—not discriminating because he wasn't from the empire, but openly admiring true skill.
For the Silver Wind Corps to rise higher, we all needed to be of one mind.
"Gasp!"
A few warriors who spotted me bowed in shock.
"We greet the Third Young Division Leader!"
"You've all worked hard."
The instructor hurried over.
"What brings you here, sir?"
"I came to see Min warrior. Mind if I borrow him for a bit?"
The instructor nodded readily.
"Perfect timing—his turn's just ended. Take him."
"Thank you."
I approached Min and greeted him.
"I'm Eun Seo-ho, young division leader of the Eunhae Merchant Group."
"Min here. Long time no see."
"Got a moment to talk?"
"Sure."
I led him to the reception room in my pavilion.
Captain Yeo Eung-wan was already there, summoned at my request.
The two exchanged warm greetings.
My Daeweol Kingdom language skills were still too shaky to follow perfectly, but Min seemed curious why he'd been brought here.
Who knew Yeo Eung-wan was a family name, not a given one...
I'd promised to call him Captain Yeo Eung-wan from now on, but he insisted on sticking with "Captain Yeo" like old times.
"Please, sit and talk."
"Yes."
Palgap soon brought tea, and we chatted over it.
Stumbling through my limited Daeweol tongue, Min looked astonished when I spoke.
"Impressive, sir. To speak this well already."
"Still lacking. What's your full name, exactly? I heard others call you Min."
"It's Yeo Eung-wan Gong Min."
Yeo Eung-wan being the surname, Gong must be some middle name.
"What should I call you, then?"
After hearing Captain Yeo Eung-wan's explanation, he replied,
"Call me Yeo Min, like him."
"Yeo Min it is."
I got to the point.
"I called you here with a request."
"A request?"
"I'm heading to Beijing soon."
I explained everything.
My main post was Beijing; I'd only stopped by headquarters briefly for business and now had to return.
"But I'm in the middle of learning Daeweol, and it'll grind to a halt. I can't drag Instructor Ho Hundo all the way to Beijing when others here need him."
"I see."
"That's why I'm asking you, Yeo Min warrior. Come to Beijing with me and teach me the language."
I continued,
"Beijing, as the imperial capital, offers experiences you won't find elsewhere. Not a bad deal, I think."
He closed his eyes, deep in thought.
When he opened them, his gaze burned fiercely.
"Agreed. But I have one request."
"What?"
"Spar with me."
"...Pardon?"
"You feel incredibly strong. The strongest I've seen here."
Sharp instincts.
Even most martial artists wouldn't sense my strength right away.
"Sparring with someone like you is an honor and joy for any warrior."
Truth be told, I'd been curious about his exact skill level too, so I accepted.
"Fine. But not publicly. And don't tell anyone about my martial arts."
"Understood."
We headed straight to the courtyard.
My pavilion's yard was spacious enough for a bimu.
I'd sparred with Jin Yeong Daehyeop here before, after all.
I shed my outer robe. Yeo Min stepped forward.
Word must have spread, because even the off-duty guards gathered in the yard.
"That curious, huh?"
"You know it is."
Seo-u Warrior spoke for them.
If they gained insights from watching, all the better.
They knew my skill anyway.
We faced off in the yard's center.
"No weapon?"
"No need."
"Then neither will I."
He looked puzzled.
"You sure you don't need one?"
"Don't worry—just come at me."
I clenched my fists into stance. I planned to use the Extreme Yin Chaos Ice Fist.
Sword was my specialty, but this would suffice against him.
He had his own weapon specialty too.
Seeing my form, he adopted a serious stance, and the bimu began.
We moved slowly, seeking gaps. I realized he had fewer openings than expected.
What looked like one wasn't.
His previous opponent must have mistaken it for a weakness and charged.
But we couldn't just standoff forever. Time for me to shake things up.
Immediately, he reacted—rushing me and leaping high, heel aimed at my shoulder.
Hmph!
His moves were obvious; dodging and countering were easy.
Tap-tap-tap-tap!
Crack-crack!
Our hands and feet clashed furiously. I could see Yeo Min tiring.
Comparing him to imperial warriors, he was about peak first-rate.
Like a Myeongjong or Cheongun warrior.
With a weapon, he could hang with pinnacle experts.
Impressive.
Using no internal energy, reaching this level with pure external training!
Martial arts divide into internal and external.
Internal builds inner power via heart methods; external hones the body without it.
No clear superiority.
I've heard external masters at the peak can overwhelm even Transcendent Realm experts.
But external training is far harsher than internal.
That's why I admired Yeo Min's prowess.
The trials to reach this point... unimaginable.
And that tenacity, that endurance.
He knew he couldn't match me, yet he pressed on relentlessly.
I like him.
Time to end it.
I'd seen enough of his skill and character. Any longer, and he might get hurt.
I took a deep breath and punched toward his gut.
Thud!
My fist sank into Yeo Min's abdomen, sending him tumbling.
A technique from the Extreme Yin Chaos Ice Fist—drains the body's strength.
"Huff... huff..."
Sensing my intent, he didn't push further, trembling as he rose.
He bowed in imperial style.
"An honor to spar with a master."
"Nah."
"But why hold back?"
He'd noticed, as expected.
"Why didn't you use your sword against the Silver Wind warriors earlier?"
I countered with a question; he hesitated.
"Your sword's for real combat. You worried about injuring them in a bimu."
"...!"
A flicker of surprise.
Just as I thought.
"Same here. That answer your question?"
"Yes."
"So you'll accept my request?"
"Gladly. I'll follow."
His gaze had changed again—fiercely hot, almost burning. I couldn't help turning away.
Embarrassing.
My departure for Beijing was set, preparations underway.
One morning, a few days before leaving—
Gwak Hyeong-jin visited my pavilion.
"What's up?"
"Father's back."
"Oh?"
"Said he'll visit at dawn tomorrow."
My master had finally returned. Now I could ask about that Sichuan incident.
Next dawn.
After meditation and rising, my master entered as if waiting.
"Welcome."
"Good morning."
"That escort took quite a while."
"It was to Beijing, but detours made it longer."
"Beijing... really?"
"Yes. Handled grain transport from foreign trade groups."
"Ah, that explains the route."
"Shall we train?"
"Yes."
Thus, I trained with my master after so long.
His intensity was still brutal. The sad part? I endured it.
Have I gotten stronger?
Before, I'd collapse post-training; now I stood on my own feet.
He looked satisfied.
But the swordsmanship he taught still lacked clear form.
I didn't even know its name.
Yet faintly, I felt I grasped something.
Of course, true realization would take time.
"Good work."
"Thank you for the lesson."
My master eyed me, then dropped a line.
"You're an odd one, Young Palace Lord."
"Me?"
"By now, most would ask the sword art's name... but not you."
I wiped sweat with the towel Palgap handed me.
"I trust you completely, Master."
"Pardon?"
"You wouldn't teach your cherished disciple something bad."
"..."
"You have your reasons; I follow blindly."
"..."
His eyes reddened. Flustered, I scratched my cheek.
"I'll repay that trust."
I grinned awkwardly. My master was reasonable.
Not naming it meant there was a reason.
That's why I hadn't asked...
Oh right—not the time!
"Master, I have a question."
"What?"
"Jeong Ho went missing recently; I went to Sichuan for him."
I detailed the events.
His face grew grave.
"Red eyes that returned to normal?"
"Yes."
"And no black demonic energy from him right after death?"
"Correct."
He closed his eyes briefly, then asked,
"Did that black energy lack a bloody stench?"
"...!"
I asked in surprise,
"How did you know?"
He sighed deeply, speaking slowly.
"They're Blood Cult disciples."
"What?"
"Blood Cultists specialize in blood-based martial arts. Hence the stench."
"I see."
"Have you told anyone?"
"No."
"Good. Never do."
"Why?"
He explained,
"Only those who practice Snow Wind Palace arts can detect their bloody black demonic energy."