The training ground was empty save for the three of us—me, Tang So-wol, and Tang Cheong.
Tang Cheong had taken a few steps back from the center and stood there, loosening his wrists.
"Let's go over the rules briefly. This is a sparring match, so poison and killing moves are forbidden. I won't use hidden weapons or blades either. Given the gap in our martial levels, I think it's only fair to restrict the use of internal energy as well. What would be a suitable limit? I'll defer to you, young brother."
"How about first-rate level? Free to use everything short of Sword Qi?"
"Good. The match ends when one side is completely subdued or concedes. Do you accept?"
"Let's begin right away."
"Haha! Aren't you a bit too eager, young brother?"
"It means I'm that much more looking forward to it."
With that, I glanced to the side. Tang So-wol was pouting, clearly not pleased at having been pushed to the sidelines. I let out a small chuckle at her expression.
"And what's got you making a face like that now?"
"Dissatisfied, you say… I suppose I can accept the plan changing. Now that I'm your betrothed rather than your kidnapper or your savior, it's true that I'd like to get to know you better, young hero. But it's also true that I'm happy to see my older brother after so long."
"…If you'd like, I can make time even after the sparring match ends. Until the sun sets. Or even after I lose, it doesn't matter."
"Hehe. I appreciate that. But what I'm dissatisfied about is for a different reason."
"And what reason is that?"
"Don't you think you're getting a little too excited? If it's a sword you want, I could get one for you too, and I'd be more than happy to spar with you whenever you'd like."
Tang So-wol averted her gaze slightly and added one more remark.
"Please enjoy spending time with me a little more. Just as I have."
"…"
For a moment, something hot and prickling rose from deep within my chest.
A sensation resembling anger, yet not so violent or burning—more like a faint, tickling itch.
But I didn't know what to say at a time like this. After taking a moment, all that came out was a small nod.
Tang So-wol nodded back, as if she felt the same as I did, but neither of us could do anything about the awkward atmosphere that hung between us.
And it seemed Tang Cheong did not care for this awkwardness.
"…Let's begin now."
Tang Cheong frowned, clearly uncomfortable. His aura, which had only been grumbling in words, sharpened into a keen edge.
I reflexively took my stance and drew my sword, and only then did Tang Cheong curl the corner of his mouth in satisfaction.
"Unlike So-wol, I'm quite particular."
"I gathered as much from your alias."
Tang So-wol, being a martial artist of the Tang Clan, had mastered the Hidden Weapon Art to a considerable level, but her main focus was ultimately the poison art.
That was why, in our previous encounter, I could easily handle her by preparing the Blood Poison Wine.
Tang Cheong, on the other hand, as his alias Dark Dragon suggested, was likely a martial artist who primarily handled hidden weapons. He was already a fully mature Peak Realm master, and if he was strong even without poison art, he would be a difficult opponent for me in my current state.
But this was a sparring match, not a life-and-death duel. If so, I had a chance of winning.
As I drew up my internal energy, killing intent naturally leaked out. Normally, I would have focused it on a single person, but instead I spread it over the widest possible area.
"What is this…?"
Tang Cheong's expression stiffened slightly at the faint killing intent filling the surroundings. However, once he realized that it wasn't aimed at anyone in particular but merely released into the open, he let out a hollow laugh.
Facing him, I stepped my left foot half a pace forward and asked.
"Is there no such thing as yielding three moves to your junior?"
"For a martial artist as earnest about sparring as you, young brother, wouldn't that be an insult? There's no yielding here."
"What a pity."
I let out a snort of laughter and stamped off the ground.
Thud!
Thanks to my meridians being at least a little wider, my internal energy flowed far more smoothly. The scenery around me blurred past all the faster for it.
But that didn't mean I could reach Tang Cheong.
He retreated just as far as I advanced. All that remained where he had stood was the hidden weapon he'd thrown right before he threw himself back.
The distance was so close that I couldn't tell exactly where it was aimed.
But I had scattered something around for just such a moment. Anything moving within it had no choice but to churn through my killing intent… the energy of the Crazy Wolf Life-Stealing Art.
I watched the incoming hidden weapon with my eyes, sensed it with my Qi Sense, and swung my sword.
Clang! Clang-clang!
I deflected the Iron Coin flying toward my right shoulder, and the steel ball aimed at my instep I dodged by stepping back a pace—but it wasn't over there.
Behind the flying steel ball. A small pellet hidden in an angle I couldn't see had ricocheted off the ball that struck the floor ahead, flying toward my wrist.
Mother-Child Pellets, was it. A type of hidden weapon that confuses the opponent's perception with two pellets, one large and one small.
Simply deceiving the eye with a thrown weapon first is a trick even Unorthodox Sect martial artists use often, but this is the first time I've seen one that accounts for the angle of collision like this.
I pulled the sword I was holding in tight and twisted it, wrapping the area where my wrist had been with the pommel.
Kraang!
The pellet flew off into the distance after striking the end of the pommel. If it had hit properly, even if my wrist didn't break, the numbness would have made it hard to hold the sword for a while.
If that had happened, the sparring match would have ended right there. That is, if I had been hit.
As I steadied my stance once more, I could see Tang Cheong narrowing his eyes from afar.
"Skillful."
"It was worthy of the Tang Clan's martial arts, but the mystery itself was something I often saw from those who claimed to be good at throwing Unorthodox Sects' hidden weapons."
"Come to think of it, you said you were from Zhejiang Province."
"Yes."
To an Unorthodox martial artist, martial arts are merely a tool for winning. Poison or hidden weapons, of course, but also taking hostages, bribing with money, or approaching someone pretending to be friendly before striking them from behind—all of these happen without a second thought.
There was even a prevailing sentiment that anyone who fell for such tricks was a fool. That said it all.
Well, that was only natural, since it hadn't been long since the Orthodox martial artists had vanished and only the Unorthodox remained.
It had gotten a bit better after the Black Alliance had properly established itself and gained firm influence across all of Zhejiang Province.
Even an Unorthodox organization, no matter what kind, needed order to maintain itself.
As I nodded inwardly, Tang Cheong curled his lips into a grin and spoke.
"Then from now on, be careful. What I'm about to show you is a martial art you've never seen before, little brother. I haven't sharpened the blades, but once a hidden weapon leaves my hand, it can't be stopped."
"You be careful too, big brother. A sword can be halted mid-swing, but I'm not very good at holding back."
"…You get quite provocative once you draw a sword, don't you, little brother?"
"…It's just a habit. There's no particular meaning behind it."
"Ah, right. Among Unorthodox Sects martial artists, there are plenty who act like they'll die if you look down on them. Little brother, you've picked up a strange habit too."
Clicking his tongue, Tang Cheong suddenly swung his arm.
This time, he threw it openly, as if to show off, yet it was impossible to tell what hidden weapon he held, where he was throwing it, or even when he would release it.
That was because the loose-fitting Tang Clan uniform obscured the outline of his shoulder, and his hand was more than half hidden.
Swoosh!
The Iron Coins flew in an irregular trajectory due to their unusual coin-like shape. The Mother-Child Pellets shot low, as if they would graze the ground. And hidden among all of these, the Cow Hair Needle aimed for a vital point.
In particular, the last Cow Hair Needle would have been difficult to even detect properly if one couldn't use the loosely released killing intent like Qi Sense.
But being able to detect it doesn't mean being able to counter all of it.
If the hidden weapons had carried killing intent, I could have read their trajectories… but this was, after all, a sparring match. To see through them purely with my eyes and Qi Sense, Tang Cheong's Hidden Weapon Art was at a fairly high level.
In the case of the Mother-Child Pellets that bounced and flew in, even if they had carried killing intent, predicting their trajectory would have been difficult.
So I simply decided to do what I could do, and what I did best.
I threw my body toward the front where countless hidden weapons were surging.
"What?!"
I heard Tang Cheong's shocked voice with one ear and let it out the other, then detonated the internal energy concentrated in my legs.
Bang!
The internal energy that burst out from Yongcheonhyeol made the soles of my feet sting, but I paid it no mind and swept my sword in a wide arc.
Clang!
With a clear metallic ring, the deflected Iron Coin clattered across the floor.
I hadn't precisely aimed and struck it. If I had, I'd have only managed to counter half of them. Strictly speaking, this was less about deflecting the hidden weapons and more about placing my sword where they would fly.
This was a sparring match, wasn't it? There were designated areas that wouldn't threaten life or leave permanent damage. Among those, the spots that could cleanly subdue an opponent were even more limited.
I simply swung my sword toward such a spot.
"Hup!"
Instead of withdrawing the sword I'd swung, I rotated my body sharply to match the sword's position. Concentrating the internal energy that had been focused on my legs into my arms and sleeves.
Boom!
My sleeves lashed through the air, stirring up a gust with a loud crack.
Of course, the Cow Hair Needles carried internal energy as well, but being such thin needles, they couldn't withstand the shock I'd generated—their trajectories wobbled or their power noticeably diminished.
That would have been impossible if Tang Cheong hadn't restricted his internal energy.
And so, needles whose tips veered off in the wrong direction or that had lost their force, I caught with my back and my left arm.
They weren't coated in poison—just simple needles. A hidden weapon with no reason to fear, unless it secretly struck a vital point.
In truth, aside from a slight sting, they didn't hinder my movements at all.
What remained were the Mother-Child Pellets surging up from below. The large and small beads, flying as if they'd touch the floor, actually struck the ground and collided with one another, spreading wide.
A range that covered not just my ankles but my entire lower body. Hard to block with a single sword, and dodging was out of the question—I'd been too slow, having just dealt with the two hidden weapons before.
But a technique this intricate, once broken, collapses beyond recovery.
I extended my right foot deeply and twisted my body to the side. At the same time, I stretched my arm out and pushed my sword between the Mother-Child Pellets.
Thwack!
A heavy sensation transmitted through my hand. I struck the Mother Pellet I'd been keeping an eye on with the tip of my sword, and the deflected bead collided with another bead.
That struck bead then collided with yet another, and the deflected beads continued to crash into the surrounding ones, scattering in all directions.
The same principle as when Tang Cheong had spread out the already-thrown Mother-Child Pellets a moment ago. Except, rather than drawing a plane with the pellets, I simply induced as many of them as possible to collide with one another.
Rattle-rattle-rattle!
A fierce clatter reminiscent of sparks flying. The Mother-Child Pellets began to scatter in every direction.
Some flew over my head, some buried themselves into the ground, and others bounced far off to the side…
I had succeeded in scattering them in various directions, but I hadn't been able to block them all.
I twisted my body sideways, reducing my profile to a single line against the incoming Mother-Child Pellets, yet the steel balls still thudded against my forearm and thigh.
Still, since I hadn't taken them head-on but had been grazed as they ricocheted past, the hits were bearable.
That was enough.
I grinned and put strength into my throbbing legs.
Thud!
The distance closed. Tang Cheong, who had widened the gap by that same amount, threw another hidden weapon. I dodged what could be dodged, deflected what could be deflected, and took what had to be taken.
This time, I didn't hesitate. I kept pushing forward with my Light-Body Technique.
Tang Cheong could throw one or two hidden weapons without stopping, but to hurl dozens at once, he had to pause for a single breath.
By simply refusing to stop and keeping my charge, the distance between us slowly shrank.
One step. Another step. Each time I closed the gap, fresh cuts and bruises bloomed on my skin, but nothing that would stop me from moving.
When I finally reached sword range, Tang Cheong let out a hollow laugh.
"You know something, young brother?"
"No, I don't. And if it's all the same to you, big brother, could you not talk to me while I'm struggling?"
"The Tang Clan likes people with poison energy. People like you, young brother."
"Then just take one hit."
"Don't say scary things while holding a real sword."
With no more distance left to throw hidden weapons, Tang Cheong shifted his stance into the opening form of the fist-and-palm technique.
If it came to close-quarters brawling, he was confident. It was just as he swung his sword, intending to slice only the hem of the robe at his opponent's side—
Clang!
"…?"
The sword that should have been firmly in his hand fell and rolled across the ground.
No—he was still holding the hilt. It was only the blade that had shattered.
The sword had been overworked for a long time, and the accumulated shock of deflecting countless hidden weapons had taken its toll.
It was hardly surprising that it snapped when it could no longer withstand even the force of his swings.
"Hah."
He just hadn't expected it to break at this exact moment.
If only he could have extended his Sword Qi as he had before the regression…
No. This was, after all, a sparring bout. That was why Tang Cheong hadn't fully drawn on his internal energy either, and had only used hidden weapons without blades.
He had to acknowledge what was true.
Letting out a deep sigh, he sheathed the sword that had snapped cleanly in the middle. Then, he offered a polite fist-and-palm salute.
"I concede."
"Huh? Oh. I see. That was a fine sparring match, young brother."
Tang Cheong, with a dazed expression, released his breathing technique and returned the fist-and-palm salute.
And so, the sparring match came to an end with my disappointing defeat. From afar, Tang So-wol, who had been watching restlessly, hurried over and snapped at Tang Cheong.
"Brother! How could you turn someone who just finished treatment back into a patient?!"
"Wh-what do you mean, patient?"
As if to prove her point, Tang So-wol pointed at my arms and legs.
"Look! He's trembling like a baby bird caught in the rain!"
"It's not that bad, though."
It was true that my arms and legs were trembling slightly from being hit by so many Mother-Child Pellets, but it really wasn't that bad.
I tried to deny it with an awkward voice at the unexpected comparison, but it seemed Tang So-wol didn't hear me.
"I'm going to take the young hero to the Medical Pavilion, so please handle the cleanup here, brother!"
"Well, you see, So-wol. The young brother's martial level was higher than I expected, so I couldn't help—"
"Hmph! You still should have gone easy on him. How can someone so much older in both age and martial level bully young hero Cheon, who is younger than me, like this?"
Tang So-wol pouted her lips, cut off Tang Cheong's words, and yanked me forcefully toward herself.
Pook.
A posture that was almost like being pulled into an embrace.
Truthfully, since my regression, I had plenty of complaints about this younger body. The reduced height and weakened muscles had been so frustrating.
"Hmm."
But now, feeling the soft sensation against the back of my head, I finally appreciated being in this younger body for the first time.
Tang Cheong noticed my reaction and furrowed his brow deeply.
"Brother, you should go see Father now instead of me. Since you've come, shouldn't you at least greet him?"
"S-So-wol…?"
At Tang So-wol's snort, he turned into a pitiful expression again and plopped down on the ground.
I buried my face deeper into my hands at that pitiful sight and nodded.
Squelch.
"Hmm."
I had clearly lost the sparring match, but somehow, it felt like I had won.
***
Tang Cheong watched with a bewildered heart as his only younger sister, cradling Cheon Hwi as if he were her own child, walked away into the distance.
He somehow managed to pull himself together and rose from his seat. And then.
Slither.
"Huh?"
His eyes caught the collar of his robe, already sliced open.
"…"
Cheon Hwi's sword had clearly broken. It had snapped the moment he put his strength into the swing, so the blade had never even touched him.
Then what in the world was this fluttering scrap of cloth?
"…Sword wind?"
A gust of wind shot forth, carrying the sharpness of a blade. Its power was enough to cut through clothing or hair at best—nowhere near enough to kill a person.
That said, it wasn't something just anyone could use either.
At the very least, Sword-Mind Unity. It was an aura that only a swordsman who had attained that level of enlightenment—or something close to it—could unleash.
"Your level is at best first-rate, young brother."
It was difficult to comprehend by Tang Cheong's common sense.
Tang Cheong, who had been quietly staring down at his own collar, scratched the back of his head.
"It seems I have much to ask my father."
Muttering to himself, Tang Cheong headed toward the clan head's chamber where Tang Jincheon would be, but after taking about three steps out of the training ground, he turned his steps and came back.
"…Still, I should clean up before I go."
With a gloomy expression, Tang Cheong began to pick up his hidden weapons one by one.
It was a rule of the Tang Clan that hidden weapons were never left to the servants to clean up, for fear of the techniques leaking out.
"Hah…"
Tang Cheong felt a little resentment toward the world.