"Eun Jong’s disciple, huh."

"Do you know what kind of person he is?"

At Eunsong’s murmur, Soyak looked up at him.

Eunsong nodded slowly.

"I still remember. When we were young, he used to scrap with Eun Byeok quite a bit."

Scrap, was it.

At a word that didn’t admit an easy measure, Soyak tilted her head.

"They fought practice bouts every day, each insisting he was stronger."

"…Sounds like both of them have a lot of pride."

"Something like that."

Soyak rose to her feet, unhurried.

She had the short sword Eunsong bought for her at her waist.

A month of swings had darkened the grip with the oil of her hand.

There would be no flailing for lack of familiarity with the tool.

"Hey, Soyak."

Cheonjeong stopped her as she was about to head down.

Soyak blinked and turned her body.

"…Win, and come back."

Obvious words, but Cheonjeong still clenched his fist and gave it a shake.

He was the Head Senior, after all.

Maybe he thought it wouldn’t be right not to cheer her on.

Pfft.

Thanks to him, a faint smile touched Soyak’s lips.

"Thank you, Head Senior."

"…What’s there to thank me for. It’s only proper."

"I’ll win and come back."

Soyak bowed in silence to Eunsong and Cheonjeong, then stepped down from the tent.

At the same time, from the tent on the right emerged a boy taller than her by about three inches.

"Oh—so you’re Cheon Soyak?"

"…Yes, Cheongyu. I look forward to it."

He smiled, then stepped up first onto the sparring stage and held out a hand.

He must have figured the height would be a bit much for Soyak, small and slender as she was.

Soyak didn’t bother refusing it.

"Ooh—though they’re about to fight, they still keep faith as fellow disciples! A splendid sight!!"

The emcee fussed.

The eyes of the merchant-house representatives gathered on Cheongyu.

Sponsorship doesn’t only go to the strong.

What matters is being a knight-errant.

Even if you die while doing right, if your name and epithet spread…

Cruel as it sounds, it profits the merchant houses.

The beloved blade a famous knight-errant cherished to the end.

And the place that obtained and crafted that blade with all its strength and care.

Of course, most of the renown goes to the primary maker, the forge.

But you can’t just walk into such a renowned forge and place an order as you please.

Warriors who’ve made a name across the Nine Provinces with an epithet might manage it…

Most martial artists who admire them cannot.

That’s the role the merchant houses play as intermediaries.

They take a hefty premium and pocket the difference.

They transfer prearranged commission rights they’ve secured with the forge.

Of course, that alone won’t get you a special commission like the ones made for the truly famous.

But their “standard” outclasses most artisans’ “specials.” That’s a fact.

"Thank you for the hand, Cheongyu."

Soyak offered polite thanks with a bow.

Cheongyu’s eyes rounded.

It was rare for someone to keep etiquette this thoroughly.

Naturally so.

The Third Generation are mostly teenagers.

Those who’ve been here long have lived together since their early teens.

At that age, clear pecking orders don’t really stick.

Of course, if you mouth off, a master will catch you and you’ll be scolded…

Even so, boys lead with their tempers.

"Well… sure. Not really something to thank me for, though."

"As you’ve probably heard, I’m Cheon Soyak."

"Uh… right. I’m Cheongyu."

The hemming and hawing sat awkwardly on him.

Come to think of it, Soyak hadn’t exactly mingled with her peers this past month.

Even when they went to catch frogs by the stream, it was far from her world.

Even when they brandished swords to sort out who was better, it was a matter of another world.

Worse, no one laid a hand on her because she had already reached the realm of Apex.

Who would say anything to an expert several steps above them?

"I ask for your instruction."

Thus Soyak had always been distant from the other Third Generation.

To put it charitably…

An unfamiliar presence.

A young expert whom they didn’t know how to act around.

"I should be the one asking for instruction."

Cheongyu grinned, saluted with joined fists, and offered his hand first.

Soyak returned the salute, then set her right hand on her sword’s grip.

"Frankly admitting where one is lacking! And nobly requesting a bout! Neither side falls short in the least as disciples of the Great Mount Hua Sect!"

They widened the distance to something suitable atop the sparring ground.

Then they drew their swords and took Banner-Form.

The same Banner-Form.

Both were using the Sprouting Flower Sword.

"Even Banner-Form! With all preparations complete, we will now begin the sparring match!"

A sharp, noisy gong sounded once.

It began.

"…Hoo."

Cheongyu did not forget his master’s words.

Demon-Warding Plum Sword, Eun Jong.

He had clearly said that girl’s realm was no different from his own.

In other words, it would be no different from crossing blades with the master himself—hard in the extreme.

Eun Jong was an expert at Apex, stalled at the wall one must cross to step into Transcendent Apex.

Mount Hua’s sword that wards off demons.

He’d received a grand epithet, but those don’t always scale with skill.

In his case, he’d been given the epithet for his reputation and character.

But to Cheongyu, who had only just stepped over the threshold into first-rate, he was a towering wall.

Eun Jong’s pride was no small thing, too.

And the monster his master acknowledged as nearly his equal—

That was the small, slender girl before his eyes.

‘…An expert poised on the very edge of Apex.’

Straight-on methods would not work.

Face her fair and square, and only a miserable defeat would await.

Then he had to use his wits.

Not something vile like throwing sand or spitting in her face…

There were still things he could do.

"…I’ll go first."

BANG—!

The instant he planted into an advance step, the boy’s body sprang out.

He was about three inches taller and outweighed her.

For his age, muscle clung to him in solid bands, giving him overwhelming mass.

"Haaaah—!"

Sprouting Flower Sword, Third Form—

Blossom Endures Falling Snow.

The plum blossom endures even the falling snow.

As the name says, it’s a defensive form.

You lift the sword horizontal like a plum branch to block a downward strike.

For a moment, Soyak blinked at the sight of him surging in while setting a defensive form.

"…I see."

Soyak narrowed her eyes.

It was plainly meant to disrupt her.

Not swordsmanship but a trick to win with the body’s physicality.

To wrap himself in a defensive form and charge…

In the end, it meant he intended to finish it with a body slam, not the Sprouting Flower Sword.

Strike first, steal her breath, and in an instant collapse the distance—no doubt that was the plan.

Robbed of time to evade, the opponent can only answer with offense.

Strength coming from a slender body and thin wrists can be crushed.

A smile spread across Cheongyu’s lips.

But he overlooked something.

Soyak had no intention of holding back just because it was a friendly spar.

The sword in her small hand sang—and then it shone.

"Sword Light…!"

"At that age, with that slight body, she’s handling Sword Light!"

"How old did you say she is? Fourteen?!"

"Hasn’t she shattered the record for youngest expert at Apex!!"

Murmurs rose from all directions.

Mount Hua people had heard it by rumor or seen it in person, so they stayed quiet.

Not so the outsiders.

Every greedy gaze from the merchant houses fixed on the small, delicate body.

But Soyak was not one to be shaken by that much.

Lightly tapping Hidden Fragrance Drift, she slid a half-step back and thrust.

The very same move she’d used to subdue Cheonjeong.

Sprouting Flower Sword, First Form—

Branch Toward the Rising Sun.

Her right foot touched down.

At the same time, she drove the sword forward.

The tip set straight into the flat of Cheongyu’s blade at a right angle.

TWOONG—!!

What happened defied expectation.

He hadn’t even planted into an advance step to brace, yet Cheongyu was the one flung backward in an instant.

As if someone had hurled a ball against a wall.

"Kh—! Hrk!"

Cheongyu slammed into the ground, rolled, and shuddered, caked in dust.

His insides had been churned.

It wasn’t enough to count as internal injury…

But his gut had been shaken so thoroughly that drawing up inner power became difficult.

"Wh—how in the world…"

But what shocked Cheongyu wasn’t that he’d been flung back.

The opponent was an expert racing toward the very brink of Apex.

She could call up Sword Light in an instant without burden.

At that level, one can smooth out gaps that come from mass.

And he had barely reached first-rate.

No matter how brutal and domineering his charge, it meant he couldn’t beat Soyak with a slender sword.

The reason he was shocked was…

A plum blossom in full bloom.

And not red—but so red it was black.

Chapter 19

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