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Translator: Vine
Chapter Title: Overcoming the First Wall
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The advanced sparring class was a class in name only; it was closer to self-study.
In the various sparring arenas provided, everyone sparred with their respective opponents.
To prevent accidents, internal energy was forbidden, and victory was determined solely by physical techniques and skill.
At first, I wondered what kind of sparring this was.
"Ugh!"
"Haha, Brother Geum. Your flank is open."
The horrible sensation of a staff's pure physical force mercilessly striking my body cleanly wiped away that complacent thought.
I sparred countless times, but.
Unhak was definitely strong.
Was it because he was set up as a classmate rival, or was he just naturally strong?
He wasn't just someone who learned martial arts theoretically; he was like a martial arts machine whose body had truly internalized them.
"That last form, it seemed a bit freer, but it felt too buried in *strength* (강強). In a real fight, if a true sword and an iron staff clashed, the staff would have the advantage, so countering with *softness* (유柔) would have been more effective there."
"Mmm, is that so..."
Thanks to him, I learned a lot.
Master Seo trained my external martial arts to the extreme.
If Elder Sister Seol solidified my sword fundamentals.
Unhak became an excellent sparring partner, allowing me to apply the movements I'd learned in practical combat.
Once he awakened that feeling of 'I can do this?',
My fighting spirit was also stimulated.
*Bweep—!*
"One quarter-hour rest, then we resume!"
Instructor Hwang, still proudly displaying his bulging muscles, bellowed.
He would have looked even cooler if there weren't tiny shoe prints left on his chest.
Most people avoided sparring with Ruri, so he was suffering again today, feeling like he'd been assigned the short straw.
"Haa, goddammit..."
Yongtaek, who had been thoroughly beaten by Murong Wicheon again today, came and slumped down next to me, swearing.
Honestly, at first, I wondered if that matchup should even be allowed.
— "Hah? Did you think I would deliberately persecute someone of low standing? They're not even worth that. I'm merely cracking the whip to ensure they don't tarnish the Murong name."
Contrary to his first impression,
Murong Wicheon wasn't as much of a scumbag as I'd thought.
Of course, every time I got hammered by Unhak, he'd snicker and chuckle.
But someone with a 0-2 record like me wasn't bothered by it at all.
We rested and chatted.
"Speaking of which, Brother Geum, what club are you thinking of joining?"
"What about you?"
"The Wind and Moon Society has piqued my interest a little..."
"You?"
"...Ahem."
I laughed imagining Unhak stuck in a corner like a folding screen, unable to say a word.
"Don't bother. You'll just be treated like an idiot."
"Ugh."
Unhak's face crumpled at the reasonable criticism.
Hmm, as for me...
"This big brother here plans to grace the Nation's Peerless Club with his presence."
At my answer, the two guys' reactions were polar opposites.
"Oh! I knew you'd go for it!"
A gambling addict beaming with joy at gaining a comrade, and...
"No, there are so many other perfectly normal clubs, why Mahjong of all things? Well, I know it's linked to your family business, but..."
A Mr. Proper with a very displeased expression.
Well...
There were a few reasons, but.
The biggest reason was one.
Essentially, Mahjong is a board game played by four people.
In modern times, there are machines to shuffle tiles, but there's no way such a thing would exist in the primitive, ancient, uncivilized Central Plains.
So, after each round, the tiles must be shuffled.
In that process,
Like it or not,
By chance or by fate,
Their hands are bound to touch.
These days, I'm only using it to troll popular users.
But it was the optimal club for naturally utilizing my ability gained through the 'mode' – ID Sharingan.
After all, quite a few of the S-rank comrades, or rather, seniors, I'd been eyeing were members of that club.
Of course, I had also quite seriously considered charming several women in the Wind and Moon Society, naturally holding their hands, *eheheh*...
If that were the case,
A terrible thing would occur: I'd have to invent separate excuses to hold other men's hands.
Moreover,
As far as I know, a harem ending is a harem in name only; in reality, it's closer to conquering each person one by one, step by step.
Get caught two-timing?
Given the habits of prestigious sects I've seen so far,
Far from a harem ending, wouldn't a Nice Boat ending be more likely?
Slowly.
Step by step.
Love is all about timing.
Or not.
"Unhak, you're going to join too, so why are you so on edge?"
"What? Me?"
"Of course. Are you thinking of backing out when both of us are joining? Is our friendship really that shallow?"
"Hmm..."
I exchanged glances with Murongtaek.
As soon as class ends, I'll arrest Unhak, drag him to the Club Association, and make him put his thumbprint on the form.
After that, while I was soullessly reacting to Yongtaek's impassioned praise of Mahjong,
A tiny shadow fell over my head.
I looked up, and.
"Hmm?"
I saw the sullen face of the shorty who had just thrashed the instructor like a rat.
"Ruri... Guan-do. Is something wrong?"
This honorific is really awkward.
Calling her 'Ruri' feels too familiar, not like we're that close.
Calling her 'Young Mistress' makes me sound too much like a Demonic Cult spy.
"Spar."
Ruri's curt reply, once again directly challenging the rules of grammar, assaulted my eardrums.
"Hmm?"
"You. Spar. Me."
"…?"
No.
Why are you doing this?
I scattered pleading glances around, but.
Perhaps treating Ruri as a woman, Unhak had, at some point, closed his eyes and was desperately pretending to meditate in a lotus position.
"Yongtaek...?"
Where did this bastard run off to again?
I tried to swing my wooden sword and split Unhak's head, but.
*Clack!*
"No, why..."
"Spar."
Ruri, who had drawn a wooden sword from her waist, blocked my sword and chirped once more.
Before I knew it, the attention of those around us was gradually gathering here.
I wanted to cry.
A short while later.
"Hahahaha! Good! Then Unhak, you'll spar with me! Everyone, be careful not to get hurt, and be mindful not to let your competitive spirit get the better of you and draw upon your internal qi!"
Under the declaration of Ruri's designated sandbag,
I sighed and gripped my wooden sword.
I had seen Ruri fight a few times.
At the Seo Manor, there were no restrictions on using internal energy, so she mainly played the role of pestering Chicken Dad with qi-based techniques.
Of course.
— "Hahaha! Kid! You're decent, but not enough yet!"
Chicken Dad, who ridiculously loved cute things for his age, would often end up lifting the furious Ruri, rubbing her, bouncing her, and then planting her into the ground.
When sparring with Instructor Hwang, she would deliver what looked like playful pounces with her fist and foot techniques, as if matching his style.
...That is to say.
This was the first time I'd seen Ruri draw a sword, as far as I knew.
Perhaps because of that,
All the sword-wielding students couldn't focus on their own sparring and kept glancing, repeatedly stealing peeks this way.
Even Murongtaek and Murong Wicheon were doing the same.
I probably would have too.
"Hoo..."
Taking a deep breath.
"Ruri... Guan-do. Since you're at the Peak, could you give me three moves?"
Ruri glared at me with an expression that said, 'What nonsense are you barking?'
*Hmph.*
Soon after.
*Thwack!*
Blocking Ruri's wooden sword, which lunged at me without warning, I gauged her strength.
Perhaps because she was a kid, she felt lighter than expected.
About 0.5 Unhak, I wonder?
Geum Sihyeon, a man.
I don't think I'll lose to a female elementary schooler's physique.
Bring it on!
* * *
"Hoh..."
Feeling Murongtaek squirming beneath his butt,
Murong Wicheon involuntarily let out a sigh of admiration.
The sight of him from back when they faced each other in Mind-Image Swordplay,
overlapped with this less lowly one now.
Even more surprising was the opponent of this less lowly one.
The Demonic Cult's Young Mistress.
Even against such a ferocious and fierce strike, one that made him doubt if he himself could have withstood it for five moves, despite internal energy being disregarded,
She parried, countered, and launched counterattacks as if facing a sword art she had seen since childhood, stabbing at the weaknesses of the seemingly flawless less lowly one.
As he wasn't a sword master, he hadn't paid much attention, but.
If viewed as a sword master...
It was enough to inspire a touch of awe.
It was a level of maturity unbelievable for someone her age—in the prime of youth.
Was this the level one needed to survive as the Young Mistress in a den of devils like the Demonic Cult?
*Thwack!*
"Keh!"
Murong Wicheon struck his lowly younger brother's head with a wooden sword.
"You foolish, lowly wretch. Watch closely. ...These are the swords the Murong must break in the future, for the Murong's future."
At first, he had thought it better to train within the family rather than bother going to places like the Hundred Flowers Academy.
But thinking about fighting and bringing to their knees not only those two but also many more prodigies in the future,
Murong Wicheon felt like he wanted to immediately enter secluded cultivation.
A clear smile played on the corners of his lips.
* * *
Had we exchanged about twenty blows?
"Ugh..."
I instinctively knew I would lose.
Size difference... well, Instructor Hwang often got pulverized by those playful pounces, so size probably didn't matter.
Despite her tiny stature, she darted around so nimbly it was hard to predict her forms.
And despite her slender wrists, it was as if she had practical compressed muscles, pressing in with even greater force than before.
And.
Though I couldn't show it...
Her sword art was incredibly familiar.
The sword art of the old geezer I saw in Mind-Image Swordplay.
To borrow Ruri's expression, it seemed to be a type of Blood Wolf Sword Art.
Why "a type"... well.
It was because I didn't feel the same dense killing intent as back then.
If the old geezer's sword art I saw back then leaned towards *hard* and *fast* swordplay, the sword art Ruri was wielding now was a bit closer to *illusory* swordplay.
To the extent that it felt like this is what the Blood Wolf Sword Art would be like if it were deliberately adapted to Ruri, considering her physical differences.
And its perfection was extremely high.
To the extent that my Flying Heaven Sword Art, though I had practiced fiercely with Elder Sister Seol, was still just for show and couldn't contend with it.
I suddenly observed the gazes around me.
Those who had witnessed Ruri fight before were looking at me with sympathetic expressions, as if to say, "Figures."
But everyone else—
— "Tsk, a man like him can't even live up to his size."
— "Hmm... Is that all?"
I felt like they were thinking something like that.
...Ruri would probably badger me about it later, but.
Rather than being branded a man who got beaten like a dog by such a tiny person, whimpering and losing, and then being publicly shamed on online forums.
It would be better to just avoid Ruri for a few more days, or put up a shield to block her.
Martial arts didn't have an on/off switch, but.
I turned off the Flying Heaven Sword Art that was being output from my brain.
And simply entrusted everything to my body and instincts.
But.
My grand goal of landing a single blow on Cheon Ruri was not realized.
Why is she so good at beating people up...?
As my consciousness blurred from the thorough beating,
I looked at Cheon Ruri's face as she delivered the finishing blow.
Very subtly.
I saw one corner of her mouth curl up.
A *do-ya-gao*...?
This arrogant *kusogaki*...!
I'll triple my training intensity so next time, that smug expression will just...
"Ack!"
My consciousness went dark with a dying cry.