Chapter 21
. At This Point? (1)
“Haap! Hap!”
“Don’t put strength only into your shout, put strength into your body as well.”
“Yes!”
As noon slowly approached, Jung Ma-ryung was sweating buckets while training in the front yard.
Next to him, Tak Yun stood firmly in place, diligently devoting himself to martial arts practice.
“Don’t just answer with words. Your arms are too tense. The Soul-Quick Thirteen Forms (혼쾌십삼식) may be a quick-blade art, but being quick isn’t everything. You need to understand why it’s called the Soul-Quick Thirteen Forms in the first place.”
“I will keep that in mind!”
“Don’t just answer well. Swing your blade while thinking. Think as you move.”
Seok Jin-ho’s brow was deeply furrowed.
He already knew Ma-ryung had no talent, but watching him swing his blade so clumsily gave him a headache.
Still, he didn’t scold him any further.
It was frustrating, yes, but not nearly as much as it must have been for Ma-ryung himself.
Because I was the same way.
Not once in his life had Seok Jin-ho ever been brimming with natural talent.
That was the reason he had created the Taeguk Turning-Heavenly Dance.
Because he wasn’t born gifted, he had to change himself through sheer effort. And thus that martial art had come into being.
“I really did bleed and sweat for it.”
Grrr. Growl.
Seok Jin-ho turned his head.
On top of the wall, Heukhwi was sprawled out, watching Ma-ryung train with an expression as if enjoying a shaman’s dance. Seok Jin-ho let out a small laugh at the sight.
“Well, he is improving bit by bit. Yun is the one we don’t need to worry about.”
Unlike Ma-ryung, who struggled even with second-rate martial arts, Tak Yun—blessed with surprisingly decent aptitude—was already training in the first-rate art Fierce Tiger Eight Fists (맹호팔권) without much difficulty.
Ma-ryung barely managed to grasp one concept when taught, but Yun could figure out two or three on his own. Watching Yun was far easier on Seok Jin-ho.
“Excuse us.”
As Jin-ho stood with arms folded, instructing the two, a familiar voice called from Moon of Winter Hall.
Two people who had been visiting almost daily since arriving at the Seok household appeared.
Though their assigned quarters were inside the inner court, Paeng Na-yeon and Baek Sang-geon came by right after breakfast.
“Did you sleep well?”
“Ah, yes.”
“When will you finally speak casually with me?”
Na-yeon smiled brightly, her broad saber slung across her back as usual.
Although they were the same age and she had suggested dropping formalities, Seok Jin-ho kept his distance and still spoke politely.
“Miss Paeng, you are the same, are you not?”
“You first, then I will.”
“When I feel comfortable enough, I’ll change my speech.”
“Will such a day ever come?”
Na-yeon teased him playfully.
But after spending several days together, she had grown far more relaxed in dealing with him.
“It will, someday. But how long are you planning to stay here?”
“Are we bothering you?”
“Not me.”
Jin-ho’s gaze shifted to Ma-ryung and Yun, who had halted their practice and were bowing awkwardly.
But his eyes lingered more on Ma-ryung.
Just like the first time, Ma-ryung still couldn’t take his eyes off Na-yeon’s beauty.
“If you’d like, we can come back later.”
“No need. The martial arts they’re learning aren’t anything secret.”
“But Yun’s boxing art looks like a first-rate technique.”
“It’s about the same level as what the branch families of the Paeng Clan in Hebei practice.”
At his words, Na-yeon and Sang-geon both looked surprised.
That was exactly what they had been thinking, and so they stared wide-eyed at Jin-ho.
“How do you know that?”
“I happened to see it once on the way to Mount Tai.”
He brushed it off vaguely—he couldn’t say it was knowledge from his past life, after all.
“Ah, I see. That makes sense. But… don’t you train yourself?”
“I practice separately. For now, it’s more important to guide them. A strong foundation makes it easier to climb higher later.”
“True.”
Na-yeon nodded in agreement, though she kept stealing glances at him, clearly with something on her mind.
“Do you have something you’d like to say to me?”
“If it’s not too much trouble, would you spar with me?”
“A spar?”
“Yes!”
Na-yeon’s eyes sparkled brightly.
Though some time had passed, she still vividly remembered the sight of him defeating the Twin-Colored Ghosts.
That movement—both beautiful and devastating—remained seared in her mind.
“A spar, hm.”
But Jin-ho didn’t immediately answer.
Instead, he looked back and forth between Ma-ryung and Yun.
For him, it wouldn’t mean much, but for them it would.
“If you don’t want to, it’s fine to refuse.”
“Let’s do it.”
“Really?”
“Yes. It will be a good lesson for them too. Ma-ryung, lend me your blade.”
Jin-ho held out a hand toward Ma-ryung.
At that, both Na-yeon and Sang-geon looked shocked.
They had assumed he only used fists, since he had defeated the Twin-Colored Ghosts barehanded. But now he was asking for a saber.
“Do you know how to use a saber?”
“Yes.”
He answered shortly.
In truth, he could use almost any weapon.
Through countless reincarnations, he had trained in the Eighteen Arms at least once.
Most were only superficial, but he was truly proficient in sword, saber, and spear.
“In that case, I should’ve brought another saber. The ones forged at my clan’s smithy are top quality.”
“I’ve heard. The sabers of the Hebei Paeng Clan are renowned as masterpieces.”
“This one here is from our clan’s forge too.”
Na-yeon proudly unslung the massive saber from her back.
Though enormous for a woman to wield, in her hands it looked strangely fitting.
“A fine weapon indeed.”
“If you mainly use the saber, I’ll ask the clan to gift you one.”
Her eyes sparkled again. She had been thinking one identity token wasn’t enough, and now she’d found a perfect gift idea.
“I appreciate the thought, but no need. I can use a saber, but it’s not essential for me right now.”
“Do you use other weapons as well?”
Na-yeon asked, half-expecting that he might.
“Yes. Just at a basic level though.”
“As I thought.”
“Then, shall we begin? I’ll let you attack first.”
Holding Ma-ryung’s practice saber loosely at his side, Jin-ho spoke calmly.
But Na-yeon’s face grew solemn, her playful smile vanishing.
In an instant, her entire being focused.
Even Sang-geon, standing apart, sharpened his gaze.
Let’s see just how skilled he really is.
Though he had no doubt of Jin-ho’s ability, Sang-geon wanted to gauge his true level.
After all, the situation with the Twin-Colored Ghosts had been irregular—Na-yeon had been weakened by poison at the time.
And yet, even poisoned, she had held her ground against them.
Na-yeon was known as one of the strongest of the young generation—second only to the so-called Six Dragons of Baekdo.
Meaning, aside from the Six Dragons, no one compares to her.
Women were generally weaker in raw strength than men, but Na-yeon inherited the Paeng Clan’s robust physique and lost little in comparison.
Coupled with her excellent skill, Sang-geon thought—even if Jin-ho was a genius—he would not easily defeat her.
“Fuu.”
Meanwhile, Na-yeon steadied her breath before Jin-ho.
She had longed for this spar, and now that it was happening, her nerves were taut.
Unlike Sang-geon, she had seen his skill with her own eyes—she dared not be careless.
Instead, she focused harder than ever before.
“Take your time. We have plenty of it.”
“Thank you for waiting. Then, here I come.”
The girlish sparkle in her eyes vanished.
In its place stood a warrior—a saber-wielder fully concentrated on the duel.
Seeing that, Jin-ho smiled faintly without realizing it.
Because in that moment, he could feel her pure martial passion and determination.
Taah!
Finished with her preparations, Na-yeon charged like a wild beast.
She unleashed her ultimate technique, Heaven-Earth Cycle Severing Saber, right from the start.
Papapapat!
Sharp saber-qi erupted as countless blade-shadows filled the air.
Her massive saber spun relentlessly, hacking and slashing as if tearing apart the very void.
The fierce wind of her strikes made Jin-ho’s robe whip violently.
Ka-ga-ga-gak!
The keen saber-qi split not only the air but also scarred the ground beneath their feet.
Yet for all that ferocity, none of it touched Jin-ho’s body.
Though her relentless chain attacks should have at least cut his clothes, not even a thread was touched.
Ka-ga-ga-gang!
At last, Jin-ho’s saber moved.
Unlike her dazzling and flamboyant strikes, his movements were simple.
Not large, not forceful-looking.
Yet strangely, Na-yeon’s offensive rhythm wavered.
Kang! Kang!
Even when her saber—large as a child—clashed directly against his, Jin-ho didn’t budge.
Instead, it was Na-yeon’s balance that began to falter.
So much strength was hidden within his seemingly light saber.
Hup!
Her hands trembled from the impact. Na-yeon bit her lip.
She had thought no one could overpower her strength, but she realized she was mistaken.
And judging by his expression, Jin-ho wasn’t even exerting himself.
His motions were small, without weight or strain.
Our strength is about equal… but I’m being pushed back because of his technique. He’s striking the exact weak points. And his control of speed and force is almost perfect. But still…
Her eyes widened.
It wasn’t just his technique that shocked her.
Even as she attacked without pause—knowing how precious such training was—something else unsettled her.
Jin-ho wasn’t holding back just because she was a woman or the Paeng Clan leader’s daughter.
He mixed saber and fist seamlessly, pressing her back step by step.
And what unsettled her most was—
Why does it feel like he knows my clan’s techniques? As if he can already see what move I’ll make next, what form I’ll use…
His seasoned responses amazed her, yes.
But what truly shook her to the core was that uncanny sense—
As though Seok Jin-ho could see straight through the Hebei Paeng Clan’s martial arts.
