Why So Surprised? (1)

There was no denying it.

The scholar before him was strong — stronger than he had imagined.

Instead of the exhilaration of climbing a high peak, a sense of dread like standing before a sheer cliff washed over Baek Cheon.

‘What should I do?’

No matter how he worried, no sharp solution came to mind. If his head couldn’t reach a conclusion, there was only one thing to do.

“Haaaah!”

Without hesitation, Baek Cheon lunged and thrust his sword. It was a single, splendid stroke unlike his previous moves. Dozens of small plum blossoms bloomed in a jumble and swept toward Jo Gul.

Clumsy though it might be, it was Baek Cheon’s best play at the moment.

“Hm, this is…”

But Jo Gul only smiled calmly as he watched the storm of plum-blossom petals envelop him.

“Mount Hua’s Plum Blossom Sword Technique.”

Tremble.

Jo Gul’s sword split into dozens of blades. It wasn’t a trembling meant to deceive — merely afterimages produced by executing needed motions at blistering speed. The afterimages flew toward the plum blossoms like thousands of raining arrows.

Crack! Crack!

The scattered petals were pierced cleanly by Jo Gul’s sword qi. At the incredible sight, Baek Cheon gritted his teeth and plunged into the chaotic sword qi.

“My.”

Kaaang!

Baek Cheon’s vertically swung blade was blocked by Jo Gul’s sword. As Baek Cheon twisted his body and wrenched his sword, Jo Gul, as if he already knew, blocked his line of attack again.

“Didn’t I say I knew.”

“You… how?”

“Ah, don’t misunderstand. I could not possibly know the Plum Blossom Sword Technique’s specific forms. There’s no way to know them.”

Jo Gul smiled faintly from behind his sword.

“But is there any need to know them? It’s enough to grasp the countless variations that can follow a single stroke.”

“…What?”

Baek Cheon widened his eyes. What nonsense was this?

“After all, technique is a repetition of certain motions. It’s nothing more than combinations of cutting, thrusting, pushing, and pulling.”

“Bullshit!”

Baek Cheon shoved his sword with all his might. At that moment, the force pressing against his blade vanished with a whoosh.

But that was all.

Though Baek Cheon had advanced nearly a foot, he was speechless to see Jo Gul’s sword still touching his.

At the instant he tried to shove the blade aside, Jo Gul had read the intent and stepped back only as much as Baek Cheon pushed.

Their swords remained interlocked without a hair’s breadth between them, proving it.

“You are very suspicious.”

“…How is this possible?”

“Impossible, you say? Well. If you had diligently trained without parroting sloppy sword doctrine, it wouldn’t have been so difficult for you either.”

“Shut up!”

Baek Cheon raised his sword in fury, then brought it down in an instant.

“It seems aimed at the crown, but…”

At that moment, Baek Cheon’s blade strangely twisted in midair and changed direction.

“In fact, toward the wrist.”

Kaang!

But that strike too was effortlessly blocked by Jo Gul’s sword. Baek Cheon improvised, slamming his shoulder into Jo Gul’s exposed chest.

Thud!

Even that only collided with Jo Gul’s left hand, which had quickly seized the space.

“Do you understand now?”

“Thi…”

“It’s not as hard as you think. Of course countless moves can follow a single motion, but people have tendencies. That makes prediction much easier. In fact, there’s no need to predict.”

Jo Gul’s gaze cooled.

“If you secure enough speed to catch up even when moving one step slower than your opponent, you can repel any attack in the world.”

“That’s the problem — it doesn’t make sense! Damn it!”

Thud!

Baek Cheon struck out at Jo Gul’s left hand that gripped his shoulder and pulled his body back.

But then.

Screeech!

Jo Gul, who had read even that movement and immediately followed up, neatly stabbed Baek Cheon’s left chest. A shallow wound not even half an inch deep — yet the meaning of that wound was immense.

“Didn’t I tell you?”

Sheathing his sword, Jo Gul clicked his tongue as he looked at Baek Cheon’s blood smeared on its tip.

“We are stronger than you think. No — you are weaker than you think.”

“…”

“You may call this sword a Confucian Sword, but we call it this.”

Jo Gul smiled broadly, unbearably bright.

“Ten Thousand Swords. An endless sword.”

“Huk…”

“Now, tormenting the weak is not the way of a gentleman; let’s settle this match soon.”

Baek Cheon frowned and bit his lip.

‘Damn it.’

No matter where he swung his blade, his opponent read every move and countered quickly to seize the initiative. With all his plays seen, he could neither break through the defense nor attack. It felt as if his whole body hung from the strings that man had cast.

‘What on earth am I supposed to do then?’

A faint despair settled on Baek Cheon’s face.

“Our sasuk is being driven back too much.”

The faces of the Watching Mount Hua disciples hardened.

Anyone looking at that workshop would understand: the tide of victory had sharply tilted toward Jo Gul.

But no one dared offer Baek Cheon advice. They knew that gap wasn’t merely a matter of sword understanding or matchups.

‘Strong.’

Jo Gul was unnaturally strong. It made them wonder if they’d ever seen someone his age this powerful.

Perhaps….

“Monk.”

“Yes.”

“Monk, could you take him on?”

“Amitabha, I’m not sure…”

Hae Yeon, glancing back at Baek Cheon, pondered with a serious face and spoke.

“If you’re asking whether I can oppose him, the answer is ‘yes.’ My fist is not so constrained by the forms of technique.”

“True…”

Hae Yeon’s martial power was formidable in itself, regardless of forms or techniques. If they were on similar footing, it would be nearly impossible to block Hae Yeon’s destructive force with a sword.

“However… it still won’t be easy. Someone who has refined technique as much as him would have trained their footwork accordingly, right? No matter how strong a strike, it’s meaningless if you can’t land it.”

Hae Yeon shook his head in a low voice.

“We won’t know until we contest. No… to be frank, we might be at a slight disadvantage.”

“Even the monk…”

Hae Yeon’s words drew groans from the Mount Hua disciples. Jo Gul’s displayed sword logic had no gaps, leaving little room for rebuttal.

“So you really mean our sasuk is finished?”

“…”

No one answered rashly. Jo Gul looked anxiously at Baek Cheon’s back.

No matter how much they often teased him, Baek Cheon was like a symbol of Mount Hua. For such a man’s sword to be broken by a mere scholar couldn’t be shrugged off as mere bad luck.

“Ch-Chung Myung.”

“Hm?”

A pale Jo Gul urgently called for Chung Myung, who stood behind him.

“You? If you fought that scholar, what are your odds?”

“Odds?”

“Hey! You can win, right? Right?”

Chung Myung frowned in a puzzled expression and looked toward Jo Gul.

“Hmm. If the opponent is that guy…”

“If so?”

“Thr…”

“Th-three? Thirty percent? Your win rate is only thirty percent? Is that person that strong?”

Jo Gul went pale as the blood drained from his face.

“Ch-?”

“Hm?”

Chung Myung, looking toward Baek Cheon, coolly laced his fingers and rested one on the back of his head.

“Three moves. No, this ‘moves’? One move seems a bit much to ask. Three moves would be more than enough.”

“…Three moves?”

Three-move enemy, you say?

“That’s a complete runt…”

“Hey! What are you trying to say, on the battlefield!”

Yoon Jong, hastily clamping Jo Gul’s mouth shut, couldn’t hide his panic and asked.

“You can win in three moves?”

“Generously speaking?”

“…Does that make sense? That fellow seems incredibly strong.”

Even Hae Yeon, who couldn’t guarantee a win, couldn’t imagine subduing him within three moves. Even if it was Chung Myung.

“Strong? Him?”

Chung Myung snorted and shook his head.

“What nonsense. In my life I’ve never seen a bookworm who wields a blade well…”

• What?

“Ah, there is one person. But should I call this guy strong…? He’s pale and really sickly-looking.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. Never mind.”

Chung Myung, thinking of Chung Jin, quickly shook his head.

“Strong, my foot. That thing’s all flash and no substance.”

“…Huh?”

Yoon Jong looked at Chung Myung in confusion, then urged him anxiously.

“Then quickly give our sasuk some advice. He looks like he’s going to lose.”

“Lose? Who, Dong-Ryong?”

Chung Myung snorted and sneered.

“Sahyung. No matter how insignificant Dong-Ryong usually is — immature, petty for a sasuk, pathetic and foolish — isn’t that too much of an insult?”

“…At that point it’s better to just ignore him.”

Might the sasuk also choose to be the one ignored?

“Just watch. That man has survived many slaughterhouses up to now.”

Chung Myung, rarely — very rarely — looked at Baek Cheon’s back with a faint trace of trust.

“He’ll notice soon. After all, he’s no fool.”

‘Ah, I have no sense of it. Damn.’

How on earth was he supposed to deal with that mad sword? Even Chung Myung wouldn’t make a difference.

Baek Cheon nervously fidgeted the hand that gripped his sword.

‘Not with strength, not with technique. If improvisation doesn’t work either, then what am I supposed to do?’

But Baek Cheon didn’t need to answer that question.

“I’m coming.”

Jo Gul launched at him without giving him time to dwell on anything.

Shaaaak!

As Jo Gul’s sword sliced the air with the sound of tearing silk, dozens of afterimages shot forth. Baek Cheon, ready to dodge as the blade flew in, involuntarily inhaled sharply — Jo Gul’s sword-phantoms were piercing every direction Baek Cheon could possibly evade toward.

“Damn!”

Baek Cheon struck the incoming phantoms with all his strength.

But the moment his blade met the phantom blades, the incoming phantoms popped and vanished.

“Oh my, you trust people too much.”

In their place stood none other than Jo Gul himself, surging toward him.

Kaaang!

Jo Gul struck and sent Baek Cheon’s sword flying at once.

Unable to withstand the sudden force, Baek Cheon’s sword was thrust high. Seizing the gap, Jo Gul lunged like lightning, driving his blade toward Baek Cheon’s throat.

“Hugh!”

Baek Cheon twisted his head with all his might. The thrust grazed his neck, carving a long red line across it. Had his reaction been a single breath slower, his throat would have been pierced.

But escaping it didn’t improve the situation at all.

Paaaat!

The sword retracted sharply and then sliced at Baek Cheon’s chest. He lay back as far as he could, trying to kick off the ground and escape the blade’s radius.

Jo Gul, as if knowing his evasive intent, dropped his sword downward and longwise slashed Baek Cheon’s thigh as he tried to get out.

Shreek!

“Grah!”

A scream burst from Baek Cheon’s mouth as he couldn’t bear the pain. Stumbling and losing his balance, Jo Gul’s blade fell like lightning toward him.

“This is the end.”

“Ugh! Damn it!”

Baek Cheon let out a furious roar and flailed his sword wildly. It was nothing more than a desperate thrash — better to struggle than simply lose.

However.

Shreek!

“Kuk.”

That otherwise reckless strike lightly sliced the wrist of Jo Gul as he brought his sword down. It was barely more than a nick, but Jo Gul recoiled in surprise and stepped back.

Jo Gul, standing back on the ground, clicked his tongue and looked at his sleeve, which had been cut away.

“Oh my… I was careless.”

Jo Gul waved it off as if it were nothing, but Baek Cheon narrowed his eyes and stared at him.

Baek Cheon bit his teeth as he stared at Jo Gul’s severed sleeve and the wound on his wrist.

‘Careless?’

Careless… that could be. But isn’t it strange? He who claimed he could know every sword path — could he be cut by a wildly swung blade just because he was slightly careless?

‘Perhaps?’

Baek Cheon reflexively turned his head to look at one spot.

Seeing Chung Myung wearing a strange smile, Baek Cheon straightened his posture again.

“Hmm? You want to continue?”

“Of course.”

Baek Cheon gave a small smile with sweat on his face.

“I just have something I want to check.”