Chapter : 19
My Opportunity Is a Status Window (19)
Start of Autumn (Ipchu)
The time when the cool breeze begins to blow.
It’s already been several months since I started living at the White Tiger Unit.
Life here is extremely satisfying.
In the morning I take martial arts theory classes, and in the afternoon the practical classes begin.
The practical sessions that started at Start of Summer (Ipcha) gradually intensified as we entered the Summer Solstice.
From physical conditioning to weapons class.
From weapons class to technique class.
And today, when the cold wind has begun to blow—
The sparring finally began.
It wasn’t among the trainees.
Instructional spars between instructor and trainee.
My opponent was Woomyeon-gae.
“Jade Maiden Sword—Azure Cloud Pierces the Moon!”
Woomyeon-gae’s first opponent was Gwakeun.
She immediately brought out Cheongun Sowol, a higher-level sword form than the Emerald Plume Mist she used against me.
Gwakeun’s figure soared like she was swimming through the air, fiercely thrusting for Woomyeon-gae’s crown.
‘That’s gonna hit.’
Or so it looked to me.
Gwakeun’s sword looked like it would pierce the top of his head any moment—
And yet he didn’t move, simply standing still as the blade flashed toward him.
“Kyaak!”
But the result was the complete opposite.
Like smoke, Woomyeon-gae vanished and suddenly appeared behind Gwakeun, who rolled across the arena floor.
“Your attack is a reckless killing strike that completely ignores defense.”
Woomyeon-gae’s arms-folded critique.
And honestly, he had a point.
Gwakeun’s techniques always merged body and sword into one.
When I sparred her before, I felt confident that if I could just block her first strike properly, victory would be easy.
After she threw her body forward, she was full of openings…
But that was the hard part.
Though now, for me, it’s doable.
Because I’m nothing like I was back then.
“For those below your level you’ll win easily, but not against masters—and not even equals. Therefore, today your score is five.”
He had told us beforehand that today’s spars would be graded.
The standard was the average skill level of last year’s class who successfully advanced to the Flying Dragon Unit.
Ten points matched that average.
So anything close to ten was already excellent.
“Thank you for the guidance.”
“Yes. Next!”
Gwakeun saluted and stepped down.
So she got five…
Not bad at all.
Next up was Lee Miryeong from Mount Emei. Gwakeun’s close sword-sister.
The match ended the moment it began.
One thrust from her—one casual kick from Woomyeon-gae.
“Kyaa!”
“Three.”
Ouch.
Three points.
Miryeong’s face clearly showed her disappointment.
“Next!”
Nangong Jin from the Namgung clan. Four points.
Myeongho from Wudang. Four points.
None managed more than a single meaningful strike before stepping down.
None passed five.
‘So Gwakeun’s score was good after all?’
Five had seemed low…
But she was still the highest so far.
At this rate, could any of us even qualify for the Flying Dragon Unit?
Only two months remain before evaluation.
Coursework was nearly finished already.
In practice, just the final trainee-versus-trainee bouts remain.
There’s no way huge growth will happen in that time…
So maybe Woomyeon-gae was just being strict to scare us.
If not, it’d mean our entire class is underperforming—
Which I don’t think is true.
Or I want to believe it’s not.
“Dang Jisang.”
“You’re from the Tang family of Sichuan, correct?”
“Yes, Instructor.”
“Use poison or hidden weapons however you want. I don’t mind.”
“Yes, Instructor.”
Ooh… that confidence.
Well, a man who’s survived real battles would hardly fear poison.
“Taaat!”
Dang Jisang unleashed his darts while leaping backward—the same move he showed when sparring me.
But there was one difference—
This time the darts glowed a faint violet.
—TANG!
Woomyeon-gae spun backward, striking out with a kick.
‘So that’s another way to use a spinning kick?’
Instead of kicking forward, he spun and kicked backward.
A kind of spinning back kick, I guess.
His motion intersected the darts midair, altering their trajectory.
They turned back—aimed straight at Dang Jisang, who was retreating.
Woomyeon-gae casually kicked the hidden weapons flying at him, flicking them wherever he wanted.
“Hup!”
Dang Jisang ducked in panic as his own darts returned to threaten his neck.
He aborted his attack and scrambled low.
And on the back of his head came—Woomyeon-gae’s foot.
“I concede.”
“You lack internal energy. Without internal energy to imbue the darts, they’re slow. Slow darts are useless.”
“Yes…”
A brutal critique—but true.
Dang Jisang’s darts just weren’t fast.
Slow hidden weapons are neither here nor there.
“Three.”
He got three points.
He looked more relieved than disappointed.
‘Worried he’d get even worse?’
Months in the White Tiger Unit must have shown him his own shortcomings.
He’s shrunk in confidence.
I hope he regains it.
He’s a good guy—someone I’ve grown fond of.
It hurts to see him like this.
“Good work.”
“Thanks…”
I patted his shoulder as he stepped down.
He smiled awkwardly.
“Lord Dang, you’re unhurt, right?”
“Yes. Contrary to expectations, Instructor Woomyeon-gae is holding back.”
“Heehee, I was scared stiff too.”
Today was the scheduled one-on-one spar.
Everyone had been anxious.
Bones broken? Major injury?
But Woomyeon-gae’s overwhelming skill let him hold back perfectly while pointing out all our flaws.
“Murong Hyeon’s up next.”
“Hm?”
I looked at the arena.
Murong Hyeon.
He always subtly belittled others, acting like he was the undisputed strongest.
He also constantly tried to provoke me, eager to flaunt superiority.
Gwakeun hated him too.
“Let’s see how strong he really is.”
“Haha. Yeah.”
She crossed her arms, snorting through her nose.
Cute even when angry, heh.
I was just as curious.
Would he live up to his arrogance?
‘Though he probably will do well.’
Among us, he likely is the top—on paper.
In conditioning, weapons, and technique classes before sparring, he was always at the top.
Though only because I never used full power.
Had I tried, maybe not in weapon skill, but in physical conditioning I would’ve surpassed him easily.
Why hold back?
To make others drop their guard.
Advancing to the Flying Dragon Unit comes down to classwork and the final spar.
The final spar’s weight is greater.
And that final spar is trainees fighting each other.
The more you reveal now, the worse your chances later.
Best is to hide your strength and steamroll them in the end.
Murong Hyeon isn’t the type to do that.
He loves showing off and being acknowledged.
He’ll blow all his strength today.
“Taah!”
Murong Hyeon drew his saber and charged.
‘So, the mighty Wind-Cleaving Blade, huh.’
His ever-bragged-about Murong Clan technique.
Said to cut the wind itself—pure speed.
His saber flashed, leaving an afterimage that stabbed toward Woomyeon-gae’s lower abdomen.
‘He is fast!’
Faster than anyone else today.
Faster even than Gwakeun.
I could barely track it.
‘But I can still see it!’
And that mattered.
No matter how fast—my eyes could follow it.
I could see the blade vibrating as it shot toward the target.
Ah…
How moving.
This was the fruit of increased internal energy.
Internal energy.
The force settled within the tiny universe that formed inside me through the Mysteries of Prajna.
Starting from the dantian, flowing through every meridian, enhancing every physical function.
My strengthened sight sensed the attack.
To become a master—
Many conditions matter, but overwhelming internal energy is key.
—TANG!
A ringing sound—and Woomyeon-gae was suddenly elsewhere while Murong Hyeon skidded sideways.
‘I still can’t see Woomyeon-gae move!’
Murong Hyeon’s limit matched my eyes.
Woomyeon-gae was on another level.
He just flickered in and out like lightning.
He’s between First-Class and Peak-Class, right?
With someone like that, I’d die without doing anything.
I’m pretty sure he flicked the saber aside with a finger—but I only heard the sound, never saw the motion.
“Uaaah!”
Murong Hyeon, unbalanced but not defeated, charged again.
—TANG!
—TANG!
—TANG!
—TANG!
After several such attacks, when his breathing turned ragged—
—TAK!
“Aaagh!!”
Woomyeon-gae flicked his forehead.
“Eight points.”
“Whoa!”
“As expected… Murong Hyeon?”
“Eight… damn…”
Eight points. Highest yet.
Gwakeun’s five was dwarfed.
“Hoo… I’m pissed, Young Lord Dancheon.”
“Yes?”
“You can beat eight, right?”
“What? Haha… we’ll see.”
Gwakeun’s snorting resumed—clearly irritated.
Not because Murong Hyeon beat her—just because he held top score.
Miss Gwakeun…
Sorry, but I plan to quit while I’m ahead.
I’ll aim for about five.
A person should show their true skills when the time is right.
Now is not that time.
No need to warn Murong Hyeon.
Let him drop his guard.
And on the final spar day—destroy him.
I’ll even take an arm—left arm, since he’s right-handed.
I’ll let him live—but make him regret ever crossing the mighty Dancheon forever. Hehehe.
Staring at his ragged arm—
“What are you doing?! Get up there!”
“Young Lord Dancheon! Instructor Woo is calling!”
“Oh! Coming!”
Lost in happy fantasies—dangerous.
My turn—the final spar of the day.
“Our beggar junior. I hear the instructors praise you nonstop. So diligent?”
“Yes. I’m learning a great deal.”
Woomyeon-gae was smiling as I stepped up.
Unlike the others, he didn’t start immediately—almost like a special treatment.
Well, I am the class model student…
Rumors spread. Hard worker in class and in practice.
Never hangs out with others.
Rarely goes out—always studying.
A diligent trainee named Dancheon.
“As a fellow Beggar Sect man, I’m proud.”
“I’ll work even harder.”
“Yes. And to honor that, today I’ll teach you properly.”
…Huh?
Something feels wrong.
“For our diligent junior, I’ll spar with full sincerity. That is a teacher’s gesture of respect.”
Woomyeon-gae shifted.
Gone was the casual arms-folded stance used on everyone else.
Instead—perfect stance.
Center of gravity set.
Shoulders angled.
Both fists raised.
A flawless combat posture.
“Descending Dragon Eighteen Palms. I’ll use the best martial art I possess against you.”
…What the hell.
Excuse me?
Instructor Woomyeon-gae??
Have you lost your mind???
Ah… I…
I’m seriously gonna lose it.
