The Five Eagle Siblings (4)

Cheon Jueun knew well that she was the weakest in the Seventh Squad.

She also knew every other member was leagues beyond her.

She wasn’t thinking of Seol Pung, Hae Cheong-yeon, or Na Seoyu—who’d all been first-class or higher from the moment we met.

SheI meant Seonu Jin: when we first reached the front, he’d been a second-rate fighter like her; yet he grew as if of another species entirely—terrifyingly fast—until he became a pinnacle expert.

Not quite as meteoric as Seonu Jin, but still frighteningly quick, Bi Sayoung had become a fine first-class warrior—and in pure movement art, even Captain Seol Pung had to yield him a step.

And though equal to her in cultivation stage, Bae Jonggwan could sweep through swarms of Gangwi like toys—whereas she herself couldn’t bring down even one.

There wasn’t a single person she could hope to catch.

Only she was ordinary; everyone around her was a genius.

“No—‘ordinary’ is generous. ‘Dense-witted’ is closer.”

So it had been hard.

In a squad where everyone was a comrade, only she was the one who needed protecting.

More than once she’d thought: ‘I’m useless. If I weren’t here, everyone would be safer—more at ease.’

And yet she never stopped working.

Even if only by inches, she clenched her teeth and clawed her way forward.

She couldn’t work “several times harder” than Captain Seol Pung or Seonu Jin—but she refused to work any less.

And every squadmate cheered her on.

On the day she first cried over being useless, they visited her in turn, almost as if they’d planned it.

The first to come was Captain Seol Pung.

Unable even to meet her eyes, he still said:

“Lady Cheon, your family’s Heavenly Grace Sabre doesn’t suit a woman’s frame. If you allow it, I can refine it a bit.”

For the Thirteenth Unit’s strongest pinnacle to offer to refine her sabre art—she could only be grateful.

Her father, Cheon Gasaeng, had died early in the Muhwang Tomb Blood Incident before he could fully pass down their family arts; on top of that, she was small-framed with short limbs—even for a woman—which made application difficult.

It was rain after drought.

The second to come was Seonu Jin.

“Ah, Lady Cheon. I happened to pick up a heart-method in the street—made for women, so I can’t learn it. If you like, try this one: the High Yin Heart Method.”

It was exactly what she lacked, having never been properly taught an inner method because her father died early.

The third was Bi Sayoung.

“Ahem. Lady Cheon, you may not know, but our Bijong’s Thousand Wind Steps is the absolute best under heaven. I don’t like to say it myself, but the captain and Jin both admitted it’s truly top-tier. Technically, we mustn’t teach outsiders—but I’m practically the sect head anyway, so, if you desperately wished to learn, I could make an exception. You catch my drift?”

The others never stinted on advice either; they coddled and encouraged her like a true kid sister.

So Cheon Jueun could say with confidence:

She was the Seventh Squad’s shared disciple.

And today was the day to show her first results before those who had raised her.

She could not, must not, disappoint.

Her eyes, more focused than ever, watched her opponent like a blade.

Across from her, Ji Sang-im—the youngest of the Three Sword Sisters of Ji—snorted inwardly at Jueun’s crouched draw-stance.

With a stance like that, she could do nothing but commit to a full-force draw-kill.

“Telling me exactly what you’ll do? How foolish.”

Clearly an inexperienced fledgling.

Sabre work, compared to sword work, emphasized single, committed strikes.

And draw-cutting was the essence of the one-strike kill.

Which meant: if it missed, it left a gaping opening.

Knowing this, Ji Sang-im chose to confuse her with feints.

Her signature from Ji Sword Manor—the Showy Phantom Sword—was famed even in Sichuan as a dazzling mirage-sword. More than enough to rattle a novice.

Ji Sang-im launched her swordwork.

“Haap!”

Siiing!

Her blade split into three gleams, flashing around Jueun.

All three were phantoms—lures. If Jueun drew into them, she’d spring the kill on the opening.

But contrary to expectation, Cheon Jueun did not draw.

Still crouched, she simply slipped and slid through the gaps, nimble as a darting cat, evading the patterns.

“Mm?”

Ji Sang-im wavered.

Dodging a sword with body movement alone?

Easier said than done—few could move as fast as a blade.

Even if one could, without eyes that pierced an opponent’s patterns, such movement was impossible.

Yet this undergrown brat didn’t retreat—she shifted left and right and ghosted through her forms.

Ji Sang-im’s pride stung.

“How dare you!”

Forgetting the plan to merely probe, she gritted her teeth and poured on speed.

“Haaap!”

Papapapapah!

Now five gleams slashed and swept around Cheon Jueun.

Spectators on both sides gasped at the brilliance.

“Oooooh!”

“Such phantasms!”

“As expected of Ji Sword Manor’s Showy Phantom Sword!”

Jueun’s eyes, unlike the onlookers’, held no awe.

Cool and clear, she saw through the flashing light.

“What is she even doing?”

That was Jueun’s honest thought.

If she meant to attack, she should attack—why swish at empty air?

Was she seriously calling that “phantoms”?

At first, Jueun had assumed it was probing.

But this… looked like Ji Sang-im was trying her hardest.

From concealment, Bi Sayoung sent a whisper to Seonu Jin.

— She’s drilled against your Seonu Thirteen Swords forever; these phantoms won’t fool her. Looks decided already.

Watching, Seonu Jin smiled.

No need to worry.

The Guild’s warriors still cheered.

“Waaah! Lady Ji!”

“Magnificent mirage sword!”

“Finish it al— huh?!”

They froze.

Between the flashing gleams, Cheon Jueun finally moved to attack.

Pabat!

Her small body thrust between five sword-lights.

So fast and sudden that Ji Sang-im, though she saw it, couldn’t respond.

A breeze brushed past Ji Sang-im—and Jueun’s sabre flashed cold and white, baring its true edge for the first time.

Shaaa!

Most onlookers didn’t truly see the draw.

What they saw was this: Jueun, already behind Ji Sang-im by a full arm’s length, easing her sabre back into the scabbard.

Click.

With that click, blood burst from Ji Sang-im’s belly.

Fwoosh!

“Aaagh!”

As she screamed and fell, Mountain Sword Sect’s warriors erupted.

“Waaaa!”

“She really won!”

“Felled with a single draw!”

“Lady Jueun! Amazing!”

Cheon Jueun smiled, bowed to both sides, and projected her voice with inner power toward the Guild.

— I did not cut her to kill. Take her for treatment quickly!

Men rushed in to carry Ji Sang-im away. Then the second sister, Ji Sangyeon, burst out, eyes fierce.

“How dare you do that to my sister! I’ll avenge her!”

But she never reached Jueun.

Her elder sister Ji Sanghwa barred her with an outstretched arm.

“Sister? Why—?”

“Not your opponent. I’ll go.”

The Three Sword Sisters were widely spaced in age.

The youngest, Ji Sang-im, was in her late twenties; Ji Sangyeon in her early thirties; Ji Sanghwa in her late thirties.

For a woman in her late thirties to face a girl who looked barely into her twenties—it stung the pride.

Ji Sangyeon scowled.

“Sister! She’s not someone you—”

“Silence.”

Ji Sanghwa cut her off, voice firm.

“You don’t even recognize her level. Stand down.”

But even Ji Sanghwa never faced Cheon Jueun.

Someone else stepped in front of Jueun and bowed.

“I am Na Seoyu, third of the Eagle Five Siblings.”

Seoyu had replaced Jueun.

Seeing her, Seonu Jin and Bi Sayoung exchanged faint smiles.

Unlike with Jueun, they felt no unease at all.

The two bowed and began.

Ji Sanghwa’s sword split into a dozen gleams, painting the air in dazzling arcs; Na Seoyu’s sword flowed like water, weaving through them with an elegant, dance-like grace.

It was beautiful beyond words.

Spectators, rarely privy to a clash at this level, went wild.

“Waaaa!”

Ji Sanghwa’s swordplay, as eldest, was far above her youngest sister’s.

She was solid upper first-class, her phantoms so keen one could scarcely tell true from false.

Unfortunately for her, Na Seoyu was top first-class.

And she had fought Seonu Jin dozens of times, building deep familiarity with phantom swords.

Watching Ji Sanghwa’s phantoms, Seoyu thought,

“In Seonu’s hands, nothing is ‘false’—everything you see is real.”

With a softness like flowing water—Wudang’s Taiji Sword might be like this—Seoyu brought the principle of “overcoming hardness with softness” to the extreme.

Ji Sanghwa could only let her sword drop and sigh—while Na Seoyu’s point rested calmly at her throat.

“Waaaa! Another win!”

“Lady Na is the best!”

“A celestial maiden!”

With two straight wins, Hwang Jang-gon’s face curdled; Sect Leader Heo Gyeong burst out laughing.

“Khahahaha! Excellent!”

Heo had expected little from women’s bouts—but he was wrong.

Buoyed by the ladies’ victories, Mountain Sword Sect’s fighters roared themselves hoarse, spirits soaring as if they’d never sagged.

By contrast, the Guild’s warriors watched the ring in silence, faces twisted.

Moments later, even Mountain Sword Sect’s cheering froze.

So did the Guild’s.

Bit by bit, their faces smoothed; mouths fell open as they stared to one side.

Because she was walking forward.

Like a woman stepped down from the heavens, Hae Cheong-yeon finally appeared.

In the rear of the Guild lines, Bi Sayoung—arriving to hunt for the hidden pinnacles—snorted and whispered,

— Men will be men. One beauty and they all forget themselves. Tsk.

Seonu Jin hid a smile.

He did not point out that Sayoung had been no different.

He only flicked a glance at Cheong-yeon’s beauty and urged him on.

— Find them fast. We should finish while Lady Cheong-yeon holds their eyes.

— Tch. Fine… Hm? Could those be the ones?

While they searched the rear for the unknown pinnacles, Hae Cheong-yeon strolled, deliberately slow, to where Na Seoyu and Cheon Jueun stood. She bowed toward the Guild and introduced herself.

— I am Yeon-hae, fourth of the Eagle Five Siblings.

Only when they heard her voice did many regain their senses.

It felt like waking from a dream.

Time itself had seemed to stop as she walked.

She continued:

— If another woman warrior will step forward, I would like to face her. Will no one come?

No one did.

The Guild did have other women besides the Three Sword Sisters.

But none wanted to walk out and stand beside Hae Cheong-yeon—only to become the loser by comparison the moment they stood next to her.

“I will not stand next to that woman!”

That was the unanimous thought of the Guild’s women.

The seasoned Hwang Jang-gon read the mood at once.

He also knew that more women’s bouts would help them not at all—and might do harm.

He stepped forward, bowed to Cheong-yeon, and said,

— Regrettably, it seems we have no more women to send. My apologies, Lady Yeon-hae. From here on, shall we proceed with the men?

Heo Gyeong laughed uproariously and shouted,

— Hahaha! If you’ve no women to send, why not send a man who looks like a woman, Hwang Jang-gon?! Wahahaha!

Returning Hwang’s earlier jibe word-for-word, Heo felt months of pent-up bile wash away.

It was bliss.

Hwang ground his teeth and swallowed his anger.

He had considered sending a man. But seeing the mood, he realized no young warrior could truly fight Hae Cheong-yeon—every man present already gazed upon “Lady Yeon-hae” with worship.

He sighed.

“To think a mere woman’s beauty could cause this… absurd.”

And yet even he had to marvel again at the beauty that could sway a field like this.

He raised his voice to Heo Gyeong, forced to apologize.

— If my earlier joke offended, I apologize, Sect Leader Heo. But how could we shove men to fight women? Let’s get to the main event—proper warriors.

Even while apologizing, he neatly emphasized that women’s bouts were meaningless.

Heo caught the intent but let it pass.

Hwang had apologized—and the “main event” was, indeed, the men.

“Then we’ll take our leave.”

At Hae Cheong-yeon’s words, Na Seoyu and Cheon Jueun joined her and began to walk slowly back toward Mountain Sword Sect.

They were buying time for their infiltrating comrades; but as they withdrew—no, as Hae Cheong-yeon withdrew—warriors on both sides watched with regret, sighing.

“Ah…”

“Lady Yeon-hae…”

“Don’t go, my lady…”

No one knew.

While she drew all eyes and bought time, Seonu Jin and his team finally located the two unknown pinnacles.

Sag Muhon whispered to Seonu Jin.

— Ready?

— Yes. Give the word.

— Then on three. One—

Two figures who seemed like pinnacles stood in the very rear, watching with arrogant poise.

They might not be Blood Sect marauders—but they weren’t orthodox knights, that much was sure.

— Two—

Even before Cheong-yeon appeared, they’d been fondling themselves while the women fought—and after she appeared, they didn’t even bother to hide their drooling, greedy eyes.

Whether Blood Sect or not, no further debate was needed.

— Three—

From the shadows at their feet, Seonu Jin and Sag Muhon rose.

Thunk.

“—gh!”

“—kk!”

With all thought fixed on Cheong-yeon, the two never learned what pierced the backs of their necks.

As Hae Cheong-yeon exited toward Mountain Sword Sect, two “unknown pinnacles” exited the world—and no one noticed.