Chapter 706: When Going Out, Maintain Your Dignity

This couldn’t go on.

She had to defend her free time, her free time. She needed personal time of her own, not as Jayeo’s dad, not as an instructor of Righteous-Proper Martial Academy, but as one free individual named Ximen Qing—

Yes. Freedom. She needed freedom!

In truth, if she could just solve the problem of Sword Jade Girl’s private lessons, she’d have plenty of time.

And how would she solve it? There was always a way.

You made someone else do it.

“Oh-ho, if it’s Sword Pavilion, that’s the orthodox sword line with a long, noble history. How could I not help?”

Namgung Sinjae’s beginner sword class ran for half a shichen after supper.

Sword Jade Girl’s instructor training took one shichen.

So if she handed half of that to Namgung Sinjae—

She would gain a whole half-shichen—one full “hour,” in homeland terms—of precious free time.

Everyone was dead.

If she left Jayeo with San a bit longer to learn letters, she’d have absolute freedom, and during that precious rest, she would make extremely efficient and productive use of it by lying on her bed doing absolutely nothing.

“Instructor?”

Sword Jade Girl’s face was openly forlorn.

But Qing was unshaken.

Because, in all honesty, when it came purely to teaching, Namgung Sinjae was better than Qing.

Sword Jade Girl would benefit from a higher caliber of instruction.

Qing, who would get to lie on her bed and zone out, would also benefit.

And Namgung Sinjae, who was happy as long as he was swinging a sword, would benefit too.

Not only was it a world where no one got hurt, it was a world where everyone was happy.

“Miss Sword Jade. It wasn’t a lie when I said I learned from Assistant Namgung. Of course, if we fought for real, ten thousand times out of ten thousand, I’d win. But if you judge only by sword-skill technique and understanding, Assistant Namgung here is ahead of me.”

“Mm. Mm. But Sword-Friend, if you fought, say, ten thousand times, wouldn’t he at least once—”

“No. Not even once. Even if we fought not ten thousand, but ten million, a hundred million times, not a chance. If you’re bitter, Sword-Friend, you’ll just have to become a real expert.”

“Kuh...! Unacceptable. Face me. Without inner power, of course.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m going to use it.”

Her light tone made Sword Jade Girl blink.

Qing had always been the one who went “Yes, ma’am,” with her voice pitched down, and Sword Jade Girl couldn’t understand why it sounded beautiful even in a low register, but either way, thanks to that, Qing finally looked like a woman of her own age.

“Ah, Miss Sword Jade, you can talk comfortably too, you know. The cadets are gone, this is private now, and you’ll be joining the instructor corps anyway. No need to be stiff.”

“No. In the position of seeking instruction, how could I possibly maintain a disrespectful attitude?”

Sword Jade Girl was absolutely firm.

Mm. Firm as a pumpkin. Right, pumpkin porridge sounds good. They had that in the Central Plains too, right? If she asked, would they make it? They put honey rice cakes in it here.

Anyway, yes. She was free!

“Um, ma’am...”

“Come on, Moyong. How about we veg out together for the first time in ages? Sounds good, right?”

“That’s not it, um, I wanted to ask you for a spar...”

“Eh?”

A completely unexpected ambush.

Which, in hindsight, made sense. The admissions office had always seemed a little wary of letting her spar. Maybe her hand had been a bit too heavy.

Even so, during her time at the admissions office, Moyong Juhee had gone from blocking one out of a hundred blows to blocking one out of twenty.

A fivefold growth. After all, youth and martial artists both grew in proportion to the pain they suffered. Didn’t Romance of the Three Kingdoms say that frustration is what makes a man into a man? (It did not.)

“Mm. Since it’s you asking, Moyong...”

“U-um, s-s-so, the thing is, if you could just go a little easy on me—ah! Of course! Being rough with me is also a huge help, but that’s not it, it’s just, you usually use the subtleties of Heavy Sword, so I’ve made a lot of progress in things like using the axis to rotate, but I’d really like to get better at using the axis for counters too, that’s, um, it’s absolutely not that I meant anything else by it...”

By nature, Qing’s personality was straightforward, and she also had an impatient streak, so she favored the subtleties of charging in with rough strength and smashing through.

And Master Ximen Surin was the same. Whether sword, saber, fist, or foot, once she swung, the weight naturally got loaded in.

Turning of the Dipper used dual weapons: one weapon blocked the enemy’s attack and served as an axis, and the other weapon shifted direction and sent the enemy’s technique back at them.

So, because Qing so heavily favored heavy strikes, the latter part—returning the enemy’s power—was getting trained.

But the part about seizing the axis of those sharp, gorgeous, ever-shifting attacks was not.

Damn it. She’d planned to rest.

Qing dug her fingers into the back of her head.

If Moyong Juhee had just asked boldly—“Please spar with me”—and stated her case clearly, Qing might have brushed it off for today.

But just look at her.

Her cheeks were flush pink like peach blossoms, her earlobes were bright red, and she was curling in on herself, shoulders hunched, fingers twisting together.

Just looking at her, you could tell how much courage it had taken to ask. So how could Qing possibly say, Nope. I’m going to lie in bed and do nothing today, and turn her down?

“Mm. Well, I guess it can’t be helped.”

“Ah, hee—heehee. Thank you very much.”

And thus, sparring began.

Qing’s physical body itself was already beyond human, and her forte lay in subtleties where Heavy made up eight parts and Quick two; together, you could call them Strong.

Her monstrous strength made Strong particularly efficient, but even leaving strength aside, she had astounding elasticity, flexibility, and so on; she possessed a body that could brilliantly express any subtlety at all.

And she was a master on top of that.

Her wooden sword suddenly rippled and flowed down.

It was a visual illusion created by the subtleties of No-Shadow Divine Hand, the full, slippery, squishy, stealthy quality of that art loaded into her movements.

And this slippery, squishy, stealthy subtlety carried an illusion of looking much slower than it actually was.

Qing’s sword wobbled, seeming to droop bonelessly—and yet, somehow, with a strangely limp speed, it rushed toward Moyong Juhee.

Moyong, being her first time seeing it, assumed Qing was going easy on her and slowly raised her left-hand sword—

And that made her a beat late.

TAP. Qing’s wooden sword landed on Moyong Juhee’s shoulder with a low sound.

“Agh.”

Moyong immediately dropped, one knee slamming into the ground with a thunk, and grabbed her own shoulder.

“Haah...!”

“Ah, Miss Moyong, are you all right? I really didn’t use much strength. Did I hit you wrong? That couldn’t be it; the feel in my hand was fine...”

“N-no. It’s good, it’s good. This, this is good.”

Her expression was like pale moonlight in the deep of night—soft but clear.

There was a bit of shadow to it, and something faintly lewd? A hint of sultriness, the way she smiled just like the moon, not like the sun shining brightly.

“A-and, if I could ask you for just a little more...”

And so, the spar continued.

****

Sword Jade Girl was a little disappointed.

In truth, the whole reason she’d sought out the Righteous-Proper Martial Academy entrance exam in the first place was not to enroll, but to see Heavenly Flower Sword and test herself.

She’d ended up losing the match and, almost by accident, enrolling at the Academy.

But that was fine by her.

The instructor had more than enough qualification to be called the next number-one under heaven. She was, what, twenty-two this year, or twenty-three?

If a martial artist who had already reached Harmony at that age wasn’t the next number-one under heaven, then who was?

More than anything, what had captured Sword Jade Girl’s heart was Qing’s sword-art.

Swordsmen speak with their swords. What did age matter?

She had gained an opportunity to learn from a master who had already achieved a lofty, isolated level of skill. Coming all the way into the middle of the remote Central Plains had been worth it.

On the way, she’d taken an interest in that young man with the strange sword; losing to a style that was not quite dance, not quite sword, not exactly blade and not quite wind.

But now that she’d seen true sword-qi, that sword-drama that pierced the sky, she realized something.

Using wind as a blade was just a petty trick. It could hardly even be called swordsmanship; it was closer to sorcery.

His name... hmm. She couldn’t remember.

Once she fixated on something, she was tenacious, but when her interest dropped, she didn’t spare it another glance; she just threw it aside.

So the one and only reason she had set foot in Righteous-Proper Martial Academy was that one instructor; she’d wanted to learn from Heavenly Flower Sword, and no one else.

But now, instead of that instructor—someone who was not even a higher-level expert, but her peer in the same realm—was teaching her.

Of course she was disappointed.

Still, learning a new sword style didn’t necessarily require your teacher to be in a higher realm. Even if they were below you, they could certainly pass on the forms.

Once she memorized this sword art called Oro Sword Formula, then she would be able to properly request sparring from the instructor...!

It was a sentiment that would have stung Qing rather badly.

Qing, of course, had no idea. How could she possibly know what someone else was thinking?

So Sword Jade Girl gritted her teeth and endured the instruction in Oro Sword Formula.

But then—

“Haaah...!” “Hngh...!” “A-agh...!”

There kept being these sticky moans that broke her concentration.

“Mm? What’s wrong?”

“Assistant Namgung? That woman over there—isn’t that, um, Miss Sword Flower?”

“It is indeed. A maddening half-sword swordsman who dares use the most supreme weapon in all ages, the sword, with only one hand. Still, her passion is admirable enough.”

“No, I mean. Does she, um, normally make those sounds?”

“Mm? What are you talking about? Aren’t those just sounds of being hit? People grow in proportion to their pain. It’s a good thing.”

Namgung Sinjae nodded along.

“‘Being hit’? No, ahem. It’s just, her moans are somewhat, um, a little indecent—n-not in a bad way, that’s not what I mean...”

It was such an embarrassing question that Sword Jade Girl could barely bring herself to ask it.

Namgung Sinjae just shrugged.

“Mm? They’re not just normal groans of pain?”

He genuinely looked like he didn’t see the problem.

After all, in Short Blade & Twin-Swords Society, there was someone who made truly indecent sounds while eating.

Once you got used to eating with that person, this level of noise was nothing more than ordinary pained sounds.

So neither Namgung Sinjae nor Qing thought anything of it. Moyong Juhee was unknowingly benefiting from Seol Iri’s influence.

“Anyway, it seems Instructor is watching Sword Flower’s sword today. Is it normal for her to so freely share her sword like that?”

“What is there to ‘share’ between friends who cross swords together? And more than that, it’s the very spirit of this Society to train with each other.”

Sword Jade Girl’s eyes flashed.

“When you say ‘this Society,’ you mean you’re in a sword society, Assistant Namgung? Could it be, you’ve inherited that sword club they call Absolute Sword Drama?”

“That’s not it. Our sword society is... mm. Ahem.”

Namgung Sinjae cleared his throat for no real reason.

It wasn’t exactly a name he could boast of to others.

Least of all as a swordsman himself.

“Well, there’s something like that. More importantly—come, let’s move on to the next form.”

Sword Jade Girl’s eyes gleamed again.

Maybe this was some secret, nameless, clandestine sword society of hidden esoteric sword arts!

It was not.

But she was free to misunderstand.

And since she was the one who had inherited the Sword Pavilion’s “Sword” surname, there was no way she could stay out of such a sword society.

Sword Jade Girl’s gaze burned quietly.

****

Lately, the staff of Righteous-Proper Martial Academy—the Martial Alliance Support Squad warriors—had been noticeably busy.

In truth, the Support Squad’s primary duty was Academy security. Their secondary duties were facility maintenance and repairs, and drawing lots to decide who would cook in the cadet cafeteria.

But as far as facility maintenance and repairs went, there wasn’t actually much to do.

And as for cooking in the cadet cafeteria, well, it was just food going into cadets’ mouths; doing it half-heartedly was good enough.

Security duty? The only thing really annoying about that was standing the night watches.

The cadets of Righteous-Proper didn’t stand night watch themselves. They were cadets, meant to dedicate themselves to martial study.

But these days, the staff were quite busy.

Because there was a lot of work.

Why was there so much work?

Because a massive training operation had been scheduled.

And what kind of massive training created this much work?

A march. No, since they weren’t a military unit, a procession.

Moving a large number of people all at once required a mountain of prior planning and supply, route-setting, prior coordination, and all sorts of hassle.

It was a sign of the harsh training that the cadets of Righteous-Proper Martial Academy would soon have to face.