On the Brink
While the Emei Sect hesitated before a crossroads that offered no right or wrong, Ak Ji-ho spent three days locking spear tip against sword tip with Seonhwa, a third-generation disciple.
Their sparring was so precarious it stole the breath of those who watched—yet neither combatant's eyes so much as wavered.
Shiiik!
When Seonhwa hastily leaned back from a subtly varied assault, the spear blade sliced through empty air above her with a sharp, keening cry.
Lan-Na-Zha.
To turn and push aside, to pull and press down, to thrust straight through—the fundamental principle of spear arts. The very skeleton of spear technique, the foundation upon which every advanced martial skill was said to rest. And yet—
Ak Ji-ho's Ninety-Six Forms Gale Spear twisted the principles of Lan-Na-Zha, surging forward without rest like a violent gale, endlessly shifting and transforming as it bore down.
"Nngh…!"
The driving spear tip was razor-sharp, its whirling trajectory fierce as a storm, radiating a force that seemed ready to swallow Seonhwa whole.
Whether I widen the distance or close it, everything is his domain. The hand on the shaft shifts with every instant, batting my sword aside.
On the first day she had tried to close in with footwork and end it in a single exchange—and lost. On the second she had avoided a frontal assault and struck at his blind spots—and failed. And on this third day she had sought victory through raw power, only to find that equally fruitless.
For his spear tip flowed soft to yield the hard, and every time a gap opened it became both sword and blade, driving Seonhwa relentlessly back.
"I had thought the Emei Sword Art was a martial skill that harmonized delicate swordsmanship with soft footwork—but seeing the young lady's overbearing momentum, it seems that is not entirely the case."
Perhaps three days of continuous sparring had put them more at ease with each other. Ak Ji-ho wore a leisurely smile as he deliberately adopted a refined manner of speech, regarding Seonhwa, whose face was twisted in a scowl.
"…Today I shall not rest easy until I have ground the Young Clan Lord's disagreeable face into the dirt."
Gone was the gentle demeanor she had shown at the Emei mountain gate. Seonhwa clicked her tongue and spat the words out harsh.
"If you're capable, go ahead."
"…This is really—"
She bit her lower lip and glared, but her gaze remained fixed on Ak Ji-ho's feet. The moment he showed even the slightest opening, she would carve the Buddha's mercy and teachings deep into his bones.
But today, it seemed, was not a day for bestowing the Dharma of the Buddhist path.
"So this is where you were."
At the voice of Ma Tae-sang—the uncle who had come to Emei with Ak Ji-ho—the two halted their sparring.
"I hear your sister is climbing Mount Emei. She's accompanied by someone she introduced as a friend."
Upon hearing that it was none other than his sister who had come, his expression hardened to stone.
It was nothing an outsider needed to take interest in, yet Seonhwa found herself intrigued and naturally followed the two men.
Monastic life is stifling enough—I need a little entertainment like this.
And a short while later, a woman approached the three of them, her steps unhurried.
"…"
Eyes that carried a cool aura, amber irises that shimmered strangely. Flawless, porcelain-white skin, and a full, heavy bosom that stood out prominently. A slender waist set against firm thighs.
Faced with a beauty one would struggle to find even searching the entire Central Plains, Seonhwa's eyes went wide.
"Is that person truly the Young Clan Lord's sister…"
The features were so utterly different she asked as if she could not believe it—yet Ak Ji-ho wore much the same expression.
"…Where is my sister?"
Wondering what he meant, she turned back to the woman before them—and something flinched, gradually revealing itself from behind her.
"…"
Not quite the equal of the woman in front, but still a beauty by any measure, another woman appeared before the three with a thoroughly frightened expression. Her gaze was cast low as if her spirit had been crushed, her face deathly pale, and Seonhwa tilted her head.
No one of the Emei Sect would have treated a visiting guest roughly. So why on earth did this woman wear such a face?
As various reasons flickered through Seonhwa's mind, the woman in front first offered a cupped-fist salute.
"I am Cheong-wol. I met Seo-a on the mountain path and we traveled together."
The three hastily bowed their heads in return.
"I am Ak Ji-ho, Young Clan Lord of the Shandong Ak Clan."
"I am Ma Tae-sang, Leader of the Thunderbolt Unit of the Shandong Ak Clan."
"I am Seonhwa, third-generation disciple of the Emei Sect."
Then all eyes turned to the woman standing behind, and she too raised her hands, trembling.
"…I am Ak Seo-a, eldest daughter of the Shandong Ak Clan."
Only then realizing she was Ak Ji-ho's sister, Seonhwa glanced around.
Ma Tae-sang, outwardly composed yet unable to hide his inner discomfort. Ak Ji-ho, for reasons unknown, glaring at his own sister as if she were a mortal enemy. And Cheong-wol, staring back at Ak Ji-ho with a stormy gaze. Finally, Ak Seo-a herself, trembling like an aspen leaf.
Looking at these four, tangled in what was clearly a complicated history, Seonhwa opened her mouth heavily.
"…Well then, it's time for me to read the sutras, so I'll be taking my leave…"
In the atmosphere so oppressive it seemed to choke the breath, Seonhwa shifted her posture for no good reason, trying to calm herself.
She had tried to excuse herself with the pretense of reading sutras, but of all days, the usual foot traffic had completely dried up—not a soul in sight. In the end she could hardly leave the four of them sitting there alone, so what had begun as merely guiding them to an empty room somehow led to her being drawn into sitting with them.
A truly ridiculous farce, born of minds too scattered to spare her a thought.
"…Do you have any idea how many people have suffered because of your willful behavior?"
As everyone held their silence, Ak Ji-ho was the first to break it. At the scolding tone that treated her less like a sister than a subordinate, Seonhwa stared at him with startled eyes.
"Ji-ho. Have you already forgotten what I told you?"
Ma Tae-sang stepped in to stop things from growing more serious, but it was useless.
"I have taken Uncle's words to heart, but I cannot help myself. Would anyone else in the clan have been allowed to commit the same acts and simply walk away?"
Ak Seo-a surely had her reasons—yet as Ak Ji-ho said, public and private matters must be strictly separated. In the end Ma Tae-sang stepped back, resignation in his manner.
"…If you insist, then keep it moderate."
Of course, should things go too far, he was prepared to intervene at any moment. But Cheong-wol struck first, one step ahead.
"Every matter has its circumstances. The Young Clan Lord should know better than anyone why Seo-a acted as she did."
Ak Ji-ho slowly shifted his gaze from Ak Seo-a to Cheong-wol. The image of his sister stuck close to Cheong-wol's side had already been flickering before his eyes, and it had been grating on him.
"…I shall let it pass this once, since you claim to be my sister's friend—but I ask that you refrain from meddling in clan affairs. I don't even understand why you followed her this far in the first place."
At Ak Ji-ho's unyielding, textbook reply, Seonhwa's breath caught for an instant. Fortunately, Cheong-wol fired back just as sharply.
"Is oppressing and humiliating your sister a clan affair? My experience in the martial world is so shallow I failed to realize. I apologize."
At Cheong-wol's sarcasm invoking the clan, Seonhwa tensed, certain disaster was coming—yet surprisingly, Ak Ji-ho met it head-on in kind.
"By every measure, yes. Now that you recognize your shortcoming, I hope you will not commit the same error elsewhere. One who fails to learn from the past is no better than a beast."
"Well said. But I wonder if you know that even beasts hold their own family dear."
Was this what a verbal duel between masters looked like? Their exchange already struck only at vital points with every word, no different from a life-or-death duel, and sweat beaded on Seonhwa's fingertips.
Moreover, Cheong-wol's rudeness had long since crossed the line—yet the sole reason Ma Tae-sang sat silently watching was this: that rudeness was being committed for none other than the eldest daughter of the Shandong Ak Clan, Ak Seo-a.
In the martial world, among martial artists, a single word could forge sworn brothers closer than blood kin—or mortal enemies. And yet, for the sole reason of friendship, a young lady stood alone and unflinching before the vast power of the Shandong Ak Clan. Was that not truly admirable?
That her opponent happened to be the Young Clan Lord of that same Shandong Ak Clan weighed on Ma Tae-sang's heart—but for now, it was still within the bounds of what he could tolerate.
Though the faces of the two people launching killing strikes with their tongues looked nothing of the sort.
"You pour venom freely upon others, yet when your own turn comes, your complexion cannot bear it. So…"
Just as Cheong-wol was about to press further—
Ak Seo-a, who had kept her mouth shut, tugged lightly at her sleeve and shook her head.
"…It's all right now."