🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 33
Tap!
Then she lightly pressed the acupuncture point at the back of his neck with the tip of her hairpin. Yeoncheol let out a short grunt and collapsed to the floor with a dull thud. She had pressed a point that paralyzed the body. Saryeol flicked her finger while looking at the next people. Only two remained standing, their eyes wide in shock.
“…This will be over quickly.”
Dowui sighed inwardly. The two collateral-family members had failed to catch Saryeol’s movements. Even so, they were considered talented among the collateral lines—already touching the level of first-rate masters at their age. But Saryeol’s movements had reached a realm far higher than theirs. Gritting their teeth, they stepped forward.
“Please grant us a bout.”
“Please grant us a bout!”
Gyeong-a and Sowol paid their respects. Saryeol nodded and gestured—and it didn’t take long for the two of them to be subdued as well. Watching the scene, the hall master, Wonjong, stroked his beard and examined Saryeol’s movements. They had clearly reached a transcendent peak impossible for someone her age.
“It seems there’s no need to hold back any further.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Why didn’t you tell them beforehand?”
“I thought it was something they needed to experience themselves.”
“Well done.”
“Yes.”
“Even for you as you are now, it must be difficult.”
At those words, Dowui lowered his head.
“I’ll surpass it soon.”
“Train diligently so that you do.”
“Yes.”
After the sparring with the three ended, Saryeol placed the hairpin back in her hair. Seeing that, Wonjong clicked his tongue. Because her unarmed skill was so refined, she had managed with only a hairpin until now—but even in a friendly match, a hairpin wouldn’t do. One never knew what might happen, and it was also a matter of etiquette.
“Saryeol.”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“Come with me. I’ll give you a sword.”
Saryeol blinked slowly and nodded.
“Yes.”
Leaving behind the three, who looked oddly dispirited, Saryeol followed Wonjong somewhere. Soon, they headed to the armory within the academy. It was her first time here, so she slowly looked around. There were basic swords used by disciples, but deeper inside, quite a number of decent blades were lined up.
“These are swords given to members of the clan who’ve surpassed a certain threshold at the academy.”
“I see.”
“You won’t have anything more to learn here, but you seem more than qualified to take a sword from this place.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. Your path doesn’t seem to be the Namgung path, but your blood is still Namgung.”
“Namgung blood…”
Saryeol lowered her gaze for a moment. Within the clan, she hadn’t been treated as Namgung, yet Wonjong regarded her as such. Even if her sword walked a different path, he seemed to be reminding her not to forget that her blood was Namgung—and thus offering her a blade.
“I’m not sure if it’s right for me to accept this.”
“Think of it as a gift from your uncle.”
“…All right.”
Saryeol slowly approached the swords set along the wall. As a blade given to a member of Namgung, one bearing the Namgung seal looked decent enough for short-term use. She had no intention of using it long anyway—she would eventually abandon the Namgung name.
“I’ll take this one.”
A silver blade, a black scabbard, and a hilt adorned in gold and black—anyone could tell at a glance it was a Namgung sword. Since every option had the Namgung seal stamped plainly on it, it didn’t really matter which she chose.
“You chose a fine sword.”
“Is that so?”
“On the way, take good care of the children.”
“…Is that a request?”
“Yes. They’re children still lacking experience in the outside world.”
“Ah.”
“It seems you have circumstances I don’t know about.”
“……”
“But you are you. You’re a child of Namgung, and even if you leave, you can always return.”
“…Yes.”
“Then I’ll entrust the children to you. Departure is in a week, so rest and recuperate well until then.”
“Understood.”
When they left the armory, Dowui—who had been waiting nearby—called out to her.
“Saryeol.”
“Ah, Brother.”
Dowui glanced once at the sword at her waist and smiled.
“You picked a good sword.”
“Did I?”
“Yes. So, do you like it?”
“I neither like it nor dislike it.”
“I see. Shall we take a short walk?”
“Do you have something to say?”
“That, and…”
He scratched his cheek.
“We’ve been apart for a long time.”
“Ah.”
Saryeol felt a little bothered. Still, she hadn’t forgotten that he was the only person who had looked after “Saryeol,” so she nodded easily. The two began walking slowly around the training grounds. The soft clatter of the sword at her side didn’t feel awkward.
“I’m curious about what happened to you.”
“Well. I’m not sure it’s something I can explain.”
“…I see.”
“I don’t really want to talk about it either.”
“I understand. I wondered what had happened to you while I was gone.”
“…While you were gone.”
Saryeol slowly traced back through her past—events that now felt like they belonged to a very long time ago. She began recounting them one by one.
“I was beaten after being falsely accused of stealing my younger sister’s jade ring.”
“…What?”
“I was bedridden for quite some time after that. So-hwa had a hard time.”
“……”
“It felt like I had a long dream, but I don’t remember it clearly.”
She lied. She didn’t want to explain it to him in detail.
“And when I woke up, many things had changed. Please understand it that way.”
“…All right. I don’t think I have the right to ask you more.”
“If that’s how you see it, then so be it.”
Saryeol used to be a warm, smiling child. But the Saryeol of now was cold and expressionless, as if she had become someone else—as if she had lost everything. Dowui felt sorry for her, but if this was an attitude she had forged to protect herself, he didn’t want to forcefully break it.
“Do you remember what I told you before?”
“Which one?”
“…That I’m always on your side.”
A memory from when she was very young surfaced faintly—something he had said before leaving for the academy.
“I remember.”
“Then that’s enough.”
Saryeol nodded. They walked a bit more, when she suddenly noticed Dowui had stopped a few steps behind. She turned to look at him. Dowui clasped his fists in salute and spoke.
“May I ask for a bout?”
“……”
“Watching you and that man named Wol made me realize my own shortcomings. Could you give me guidance?”
“Are you sure that’s all right?”
“There is no age to skill, and I’m not so small a person as to feel ashamed just because you’re stronger than I am.”
“…Well, if you say so.”
Saryeol slowly walked back to the center of the training grounds. Everyone else had left; only the two of them remained. Dowui followed her, and they stopped at a measured distance from each other.
“I’ll yield the first move.”
“……”
She said it without even drawing her sword. Dowui unsheathed his blade and leveled it forward, watching her as she stood there unmoving. She was much smaller than him, her stance seemingly unprepared—yet there was a subtle presence that made it impossible to tell where to strike.
Gulp.
Dowui swallowed hard. He couldn’t be fooled by that posture. Though her hand wasn’t even on the hilt, the moment he rushed in, her sword would be drawn. Breaking into a cold sweat, he proceeded cautiously.
So cautious, Saryeol thought as she waited for him to come.
Those brief thoughts flashed by—and then, thud! Dowui raised his sword and charged. In that instant, Saryeol’s blade was already out, and the two swords collided.
Clang!
The sound rang loud. Dowui felt a sharp sting shoot through his grip. Though she was far smaller, the internal force carried by her blade was on a completely different level. Knocked backward, Dowui hastily steadied himself and leapt in again, thrusting toward her once more.
