Chapter 23
Having changed quickly into her training clothes, which were simple and unadorned, she tightly tied her hair up with a cloth ribbon. Her white hair swayed softly down her back.
“Let’s go,” she said.
“Yes!”
When they stepped out of the guest room, Wol was already waiting outside, having changed as well. His loosely tied training robe looked rather ill-fitting, but since he wasn’t a disciple here anyway, she figured it didn’t really matter. Sayul headed with him toward the outdoor training grounds where the academy’s disciples practiced.
When they arrived, dozens of disciples were engaged in basic training. Sayul sat nearby and began observing them.
“What do you think?”
“About what?”
“Do you see anyone decent?”
At that, Wol quietly watched the disciples. After only a brief moment, he answered calmly, as if he’d been watching much longer.
“About three.”
“That’s what I see too.”
About three of them might make a name for themselves among the younger generation. At least the Namgung academy wasn’t completely dead. Still, that was only if they continued to push themselves in the future. Given how complacent the martial world had become, they might not even reach the level they were originally meant to attain.
“How about teaching them a move or two?”
“Me?”
“Yes.”
“Then what about you?”
Sayul looked at Wol.
“If I do it…”
She rose to her feet.
“Not a bad idea.”
Sayul approached the Namgung collateral who was instructing the academy disciples. She didn’t know his name, but he had likely been teaching third-generation disciples here for a long time. When she reached him, she spoke.
“Esteemed sir.”
“Ah, you must be….”
“I am Namgung Sayul, from the main family.”
“I heard that a distinguished guest from the main family would be visiting. What brings you here?”
“Well, actually…”
As the strikingly beautiful Sayul approached and spoke with the Namgung instructor, the disciples’ attention gathered on her. Her neat lips and snow-white hair shimmering in the light—no one could deny she had the face of a peerless beauty. All eyes rested on her.
“I was thinking of offering a bit of instruction to the academy disciples.”
The moment those arrogant words left her mouth, the atmosphere stirred. Everyone had heard from the academy elders that someone from Namgung would be visiting today, but no one knew who “Namgung Sayul” was, leaving them confused.
“Doesn’t the main family only have one youngest daughter?”
“…I heard rumors of an illegitimate child.”
“So that’s her? Then she probably never received proper instruction—”
“Still, she’s from the main family. You never know.”
No one could read her aura. Her slender body didn’t look like that of a powerful warrior no matter how they looked at it, and some of the martial disciples felt displeased. Who did she think she was, offering to teach them when they were already receiving proper instruction here?
“Miss, are you sure you’ll be all right?”
The collateral instructor asked, looking somewhat troubled. He too knew little about Namgung Sayul—only of her existence, not of what kind of person she was. The fact that he couldn’t read her aura added to his unease.
“I am not someone who talks big without skill. Please don’t worry.”
“…Very well. If it seems dangerous, I will intervene.”
“Please do.”
Sayul asked for a wooden sword, then faced the academy disciples and clasped her fists in salute. She examined them one by one. Some looked displeased, others curious. Either was fine.
“I am Namgung Sayul, from Namgung. I formally request a sparring match with the academy disciples.”
Her courteous manner eased the tension somewhat, yet no one stepped forward. It was hard to gauge her skill, and even if she was an illegitimate child, she was still being treated like someone important—they worried about injuring her.
After a short while, someone cautiously raised a hand.
“May… may I request a spar?”
“Thank you. Miss, may I have your name?”
“I am Yeon Myeongwol, a disciple of the Namgung academy.”
“Miss Yeon Myeongwol, I look forward to it.”
At Sayul’s words, Myeongwol also clasped her fists in salute. As the spar was decided, the other disciples stepped back, clearing space in the center. Sayul and Myeongwol faced each other, standing a short distance apart.
With a tense expression, Myeongwol raised her wooden sword. Since she couldn’t read her opponent’s aura, it was difficult to launch the first attack. Sayul stood calmly with the wooden sword hanging loosely in one hand. At a glance, her posture looked full of openings, yet for some reason, there was nowhere Myeongwol could clearly strike.
‘She’s good.’
Sayul thought as she watched Myeongwol hesitate instead of swinging rashly. A careless fighter would have attacked immediately upon seeing such apparent openings. Still, one couldn’t let a young pup take the initiative. Sayul relaxed one leg and lowered her shoulder, deliberately exposing a gap.
‘An opening…!’
Seeing it, Myeongwol immediately kicked off the ground and rushed in.
Clack!
The sound of wooden swords colliding rang out.
She had aimed for the shoulder that had slackened, but in the blink of an eye, Sayul’s sword rose and knocked hers aside. Struck upward from below, Myeongwol’s posture collapsed, her front completely exposed. Sayul didn’t waste the opening—she brought her sword down, striking Myeongwol’s chest.
Smack!
“Aaah!”
It was a pain she hadn’t expected from such a thin wrist. Myeongwol cried out and fell backward. As she collapsed, Sayul struck her wrist again, forcing her to drop the wooden sword. In the blink of an eye, Myeongwol had been hit twice and rolled along the ground.
“That’s enough.”
“Th-th-thank you f-for the lesson.”
Myeongwol staggered to her feet, clutching her throbbing chest and wrist, somehow managing a salute before picking up her wooden sword and retreating. Seeing Myeongwol—one of the top disciples—declare defeat after only two exchanges, the others swallowed dryly.
“What do you think?”
At that moment, one of the academy disciples asked Namgung Jang-gyeong, a first-generation disciple.
Jang-gyeong stood with his arms crossed, eyes narrowed. It was certainly movement he hadn’t expected. If she had been taught directly by the main family, it would be natural that academy disciples couldn’t match her. But beyond her skill, something felt off.
“She has no foundation.”
“Pardon?”
“Her movements lack a foundation.”
“You mean…?”
“It’s as if she has no master.”
“That can’t be…”
Raising a sword to strike or bringing it down looked simple, but as someone who taught the basics of swordsmanship, he could tell. The way she handled her sword wasn’t Namgung’s style—no, it wasn’t a style he’d ever seen anywhere.
‘Did she reach that level on her own?’
Jang-gyeong, a collateral of Namgung, couldn’t read her aura at all either. At first, he thought it was because she had nothing—but after seeing this brief spar, he realized that wasn’t it. It wasn’t that she had nothing; she was in a realm he couldn’t perceive. That meant, at the very least, the realm of transcendence.
‘Is it even possible to reach transcendence without a master?’
Even Namgung Dowi, hailed as a genius, couldn’t have done that. Jang-gyeong had never seen anyone reach transcendence before coming of age—past or present. Sayul could only do so because she had carried over her past martial attainment, but Jang-gyeong had no way of knowing that, and he couldn’t comprehend Sayul, who seemed to have reached transcendence at an age barely past adolescence.
‘Did the main family secretly raise their eldest daughter?’
Even that didn’t explain her unfounded movements. Jang-gyeong decided to watch her next spar more closely.
