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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: The Namgung Clan Granddaughter's Return
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Seolhwa, exchanging blows with Namgung Ung, intentionally left an opening for him.
And she found it. Namgung Ung's problem.
*Thwack!*
“!”
When Seolhwa swung her sword, Namgung Ung’s wooden sword flew out of his hand far too easily.
Namgung Ung looked at his hand and the flying wooden sword with a bewildered expression.
“What are you doing?”
Seolhwa’s accusing voice was cold.
Namgung Ung hastily performed a *pokwon*.
“I concede.”
“You said you’d do your best. Is that your best?”
“…Pardon?”
Namgung Ung looked at her with a confused expression.
He had thought she was angry because he hadn't fully acknowledged his defeat in the spar, but the atmosphere felt strange.
Seolhwa held her wooden sword upright in front of Namgung Ung’s eyes.
“You saw it. The opening. So why didn’t you attack?”
“Ah…”
“Your final strike wasn’t even proper, was it?”
Namgung Ung blinked his wide eyes, staring at the tip of the wooden sword held before him.
“Is sparring a joke to you?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why did you hesitate?”
“Th-that’s… I was worried… that you, Sister, might get hurt…”
“Is that truly the only reason? It’s not, is it?”
“Pardon?”
“You didn’t stop because of that, did you?”
The reason Namgung Ung hesitated was because he was kind.
Namgung Ung was young. He was worried that if he, a child, beat his elder sister, she would be upset.
To put it nicely, he was considerate, but to put it harshly, it was hypocrisy.
‘And hypocrisy invites death.’
Hypocrisy stems from arrogance, and arrogance is a fatal poison for a martial artist.
The sprout of a poisonous weed should not be allowed to grow. It must be pulled out and trampled before it can take root.
“Pick up your sword.”
Seolhwa said, stepping back a couple of paces, and Namgung Ung picked up the wooden sword that had fallen to the ground.
“Are we going again?”
“From now on, I intend to beat you.”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m going to hit you without mercy.”
Seolhwa raised her sword towards Namgung Ung.
Namgung Ung also took a stance, but his expression was one of disbelief, as if thinking, *Surely not*.
“I won’t stop until your sword touches me. If you don’t want to get hit, attack with all your might. If you want me to stop, you’ll have to do something.”
“Hmm…”
Was he supposed to answer? What was he supposed to say?
However, Namgung Ung’s 고민 was pointless.
Before Namgung Ung could even finish his thoughts, Seolhwa lunged at him.
“!”
*Clang!*
Namgung Ung instinctively blocked her sword. It was such a strong blow that he inhaled sharply.
A menacing sound rang out. It wasn’t just the sound of wooden swords clashing.
The fine hairs on his neck stood on end.
“Sister?!”
*Whump!*
“Gah!”
Seolhwa’s wooden sword struck Namgung Ung’s side in the blink of an eye.
Only then did Namgung Ung realize her words were not a joke.
“W-wait…!”
But by the time he realized it, it was already too late. There was no time to block her sword, which came flying from all directions.
*Whump! Thwack!*
Seolhwa’s sword struck relentlessly. He barely managed to block a few attacks, but before he could make his next move, the wooden sword came flying again.
Namgung Ung was, frankly, humiliated.
He had only stopped his attack to save Seolhwa’s face, so it was naturally humiliating to be told off by the opponent he had gone easy on.
But how ridiculous that arrogance had been.
*Thwump! Whump!*
“Gah! Ow!”
At this moment, Namgung Ung realized it desperately.
‘I-I have to do something…!’
It hurt. He wanted to burst into tears right away, but crying didn’t seem like it would solve anything.
To stop this brutal violence, there was only one way.
‘I have to hit her!’
He just had to attack Seolhwa too.
*Thwack! Whump!*
Amidst the relentless onslaught, Namgung Ung frantically swung his sword and arms, desperately watching Seolhwa’s movements.
Just once.
He just needed to touch her once. Just find one opening…!
‘Now!’
Namgung Ung thrust his wooden sword forward. But his sword couldn’t reach Seolhwa.
The moment he thought he saw an opening, her body vanished from his sight for some reason.
“!”
What followed was another merciless beating.
*Thwump-thump-thump! Whump!*
“Ugh…”
Tears involuntarily welled up.
Again and again, he swung his sword into the openings, but not once did it touch her body.
“Sister! *Sniff*. It hurts! It hurts!”
“Pull yourself together. Are we going to be here all night?”
At this rate, he truly felt like he would be beaten to death. He had been hit so much that his ears were ringing, and his mind was a complete blur.
‘I’m going to die! I’m really going to die!’
He was already crying so bitterly that it was pathetic. Forgetting all the sword techniques he had learned, he just swung his sword wildly while sobbing.
“Uwaaaaaaah!!”
At some point, he saw her opening again.
Namgung Ung instinctively caught Seolhwa’s wooden sword, which was aimed at his side, with his armpit. And then.
*Whump!*
Namgung Ung’s sword struck Seolhwa’s forearm. At that moment, Namgung Ung smiled.
The thought that it was finally over, combined with the thrilling pleasure of having finally touched her, who had seemed utterly unreachable, sent a jolt through him.
But the joy was fleeting, and Namgung Ung looked up at Seolhwa with a start.
“S-Sister. Th-this wasn’t… what I intended…”
“How does it feel to almost die?”
Namgung Ung’s eyes widened.
He hadn’t died, but he had truly almost died. It hurt and he was scared, and he was terrified because he couldn’t stop.
If this had been a real fight, he probably would have been torn to shreds, unrecognizable.
The thought made him feel wronged.
“I understand your intention, Sister! But…! This…! This is…! Too much…! It really hurt!”
Who spars like this?
Even if one is overwhelmingly stronger, isn’t sparring about going easy to some extent?
Just because he hesitated with his sword once! To beat him like a dog!
“If it were a real fight, I wouldn’t have hesitated with my sword either!”
The places he had been hit still throbbed, and tears welled up again.
Namgung Ung’s voice was filled with injustice.
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes…!”
“I don’t think so.”
Just because it was a spar? He wouldn’t be like that in a real fight?
What a ridiculous notion.
“The sword is honest. Whether in a spar or a real fight, every swing, every thrust, even every breath, will come out exactly as you’ve practiced it. Why do we train so desperately?”
“Uh… to get stronger…?”
“Training is.”
Seolhwa poked Namgung Ung’s shoulder.
“A process of imprinting it onto your body. A process of engraving it into your instincts. So that when your mind stops and your judgment clouds from fear. Your legs naturally follow the footwork, your lungs breathe like flowing water, and your sword doesn’t stop, but cuts down the enemy.”
The reason even the simplest movements are repeated thousands, tens of thousands of times, is for that.
To engrave those movements into the body, not the mind.
In that critical, fleeting moment.
So that the body reacts first, not the mind.
“Don’t get used to hesitating. That one moment of hesitation will lead you to death.”
Namgung Ung pursed his lips.
Namgung Ung had never fought an enemy who wasn’t a member of his clan.
He had never exchanged swords with anyone outside of ‘going easy’ in spars. And most of those opponents were his elder brother, Soryong.
‘Brother would get angry if I lost to him.’
Because of that, at some point, realizing he was stronger than his brother, he had always wielded his sword ‘moderately.’
He had naturally sparred by intentionally giving his opponent openings. He thought that was respecting his opponent.
‘But Sister’s words are right.’
Even in the spar with Seolhwa just now, he had hesitated with his sword the moment he saw her opening, even though he hadn’t consciously intended to.
If it was like this in a spar, would it truly be different in a real fight?
‘No.’
The sword is honest. That statement was correct.
‘Seems he understood.’
Seeing Namgung Ung’s more serious expression, Seolhwa let out a short sigh.
She had been worried he wouldn’t understand because he was still young, but he was a clever child. For now, that was enough.
“Don’t forget the attack you just made.”
Namgung Ung looked up at her. His eyes were a little confused.
“That was… a cowardly attack. I was only able to do it because I grabbed your sword so you couldn’t swing it.”
He knew he shouldn’t hesitate, but such a cowardly attack was not befitting a martial artist…
“What’s wrong with that?”
“…Pardon?”
“Whether you grab your opponent’s sword with your hand, or pin it to the ground, or break it. What does it matter how you win? The important thing is that you won.”
Namgung Ung blinked his round eyes.
Seolhwa chuckled, seeing Ung’s reaction.
“Anyway, no one knows the process. Only the result of victory or defeat remains. You can just win first, then claim you won fairly and squarely, can’t you?”
Namgung Ung’s innocent expression turned to shock, and his small mouth gaped open.
“…Pardon?”
Seeing his surprised reaction, Seolhwa pondered for a moment.
‘Should I really be telling him such things?’
Namgung Ung was a child who suited the Namgung clan more than anyone, so perhaps she was corrupting him.
‘But…’
Considering her previous life, it seemed a little corruption might be okay. Namgung Ung’s uprightness had been his downfall.
‘Right. A little bit will be fine.’
Seolhwa smiled brightly and ruffled Namgung Ung’s small head.
“Don’t forget. In a real fight, surviving is winning.”
