Chapter 3: Lee Sowol. (Final Version)
by fnovelpia
Jin Seorin tried to say something.
Her voice trembled slightly.
“Teacher… I…”
But at that moment, I quietly cut her off.
“Think on it a little more.”
I kept my expression calm.
But my gaze, as I looked at her, held warmth.
“This teacher will always accept you—whenever you’re ready.”
Upon hearing that, Jin Seorin couldn’t say anything more.
She lowered her head slowly and replied in a quiet voice.
“…Thank you.”
She withdrew her sword and stepped back.
She seemed to be trying to calm the emotions stirring in her chest.
After quietly retreating, she bowed deeply toward me once more and left the training hall.
A brief silence passed.
Then suddenly, loud footsteps echoed as a small figure came charging toward me.
“Teacher!! Look at me too!”
It was Sowol.
With sparkling eyes, she lunged into me like a headbutt.
I instinctively caught her and let out a sigh.
“Sowol, I told you not to run.”
“Aw, that’s not fair! You only looked at Seorin unnie! Teach me too!”
She puffed up her cheeks and bounced up and down in front of me.
I chuckled and lightly tousled her hair.
“Alright. Let’s see how much you’ve improved, then.”
Sowol’s eyes sparkled.
She quickly picked up her sword, a confident smile on her face.
In that moment, I felt a faint chill behind me.
I turned my head slightly.
The other disciples were glancing this way from afar.
Their gazes were oddly cold.
They weren’t openly expressing dissatisfaction, but there was clear discomfort in the air.
‘What’s with that…?’
Was it that I’d focused too much on Seorin?
Or was Sowol’s sudden interruption rubbing them the wrong way?
I swallowed a sigh and looked forward again.
For now, it was better to let it go without comment.
Sowol stood in front of me, holding her sword.
She was brimming with energy, but it was clear at a glance.
Just like Seorin, her Azure Wind Sword Technique was off balance.
The flow of her sword bounced lightly and quickly.
Instead of softness and fluidity, nimble tricks and unpredictable movements stood out.
It was as if she wasn’t riding the wind, but breaking the flow to carve out a new path.
However, she was different from Seorin.
Seorin had tried to forge her own path.
But Sowol felt like she was using an entirely different martial art.
Her sword followed the forms of the Azure Wind Sword Technique, and yet something felt off.
It was too direct, and the edges were overly sharp.
It felt as if the Azure Wind Sword Technique had been forcibly layered on top of a completely different martial art.
I quietly watched her.
“Sowol.”
Sowol blinked, seeming nervous—but quickly flashed a confident smile.
“Yes! Teacher! I’m doing great, right?”
I let out a small chuckle and slowly shook my head.
“That’s not it.”
A flicker of confusion passed over Sowol’s face.
I raised my sword and added gently,
“Let me see for myself. Pick up your sword.”
Sowol flinched and looked up at me.
But soon bit her lip and took her stance.
I pointed my sword forward and said briefly, “Come at me.”
Sowol’s eyes sparkled.
As if she had been waiting for that moment, her sword sprang up sharply.
However, from the very start, her footwork faltered.
Instead of the smooth flow of the Azure Wind Sword Technique, it seemed another martial habit reacted first.
Her sword path was misaligned, and her center was unstable.
It was like the trajectory of someone who had lost their way.
I didn’t even need to raise my sword.
I simply moved one step and hooked her leg.
Sowol lost her balance in an instant and fell forward.
Thud.
She caught herself with her hands and looked up at me with startled eyes.
I slowly lowered my sword and said, “Before fixing your sword, you’ll need to fix your footwork.”
Sowol’s gaze trembled.
Her lips pushed out in a slight pout, looking like she’d been provoked.
Her expression was playful—but behind it burned a flicker of competitive fire.
“Saying I need to fix my footwork first is too harsh, Teacher!”
She took a sharp breath in, Then suddenly threw aside the sword she was holding.
I raised an eyebrow slightly.
That was unexpected.
“Hmph, I don’t need a sword anyway!”
Before she even finished speaking, Sowol launched herself forward.
Without her sword, she charged straight at me.
In that moment, her movements changed.
They were different from when she held a sword.
The angles of her arms were natural, and the way her feet touched the ground felt completely different.
When she swung a sword, there were many awkward moments where she lost the flow.
But now, her body was instinctively adapting to the fight.
I let out a small laugh and took a step back, but then furrowed my brow slightly.
This was rougher—and more serious—than I expected.
This wasn’t just playful movement.
Sowol moved without hesitation.
She lowered her upper body, used her waist to generate power, and closed the distance in a quick spring, then drove her shoulder forward.
Despite her small frame, there was no hesitation in her movement.
‘What is this? Her footwork is more refined than when she’s holding a sword.’
I lightly stepped to the side to evade, letting her attack flow past.
But Sowol reacted swiftly and changed direction.
When she held a sword, she awkwardly tried to follow the flow.
Now, she was creating the flow of her attack on her own.
When did she learn this hand-to-hand technique—or no, was it some kind of fist art?
Did she pick something up while at the main sect?
Or maybe… on the day she experienced real combat?
These were movements remembered by the body.
They were far more natural than when she held a sword, and there was no hesitation.
When she used a sword, there were many moments where she didn’t know where to place her strength.
But now, she was using her strength precisely and moving her body correctly.
I didn’t fully understand it, but ridiculously enough, this suited Sowol better than the Azure Wind Sword Technique she had trained in for years.
Still, she had a long way to go.
I twisted my body slightly, easily dodging her attack, and then raised my hand, and gave her a flick on the forehead.
Smack!
“Ow!”
Sowol clutched her head and stepped back, looking up at me with wide eyes.
I crossed my arms and gave her a small smirk.
“You’re much better without the sword. But you’re still not there yet, Sowol.”
She puffed up her cheeks, pouting with an indignant expression.
But I was already convinced.
This girl… fits fists more than swords.
Even I was a bit startled by that thought.
To think that hand-to-hand combat suited her better than the sword she’d trained with for years.
Sowol had spent countless hours holding a sword.
She had practiced the forms, built up her basics, and worked hard to make the Azure Wind Sword Technique her own.
Had I misunderstood Sowol all this time?
If so, then when did she learn to move like this?
And if that’s the case—what should I be teaching her?
Does Sowol truly need the sword?
Or… is there another path for her?
Sowol charged at me again and again.
Even when she was knocked down, she got back up.
She never gave up, even while gasping for breath.
Her palms were scraped, and her clothes were dirtied with soil, but she didn’t care.
It was surprising.
Not just her martial arts—but her determination.
But there were limits to stamina.
At last, she lunged forward one final time.
And collapsed to the ground, having sliced through empty air.
Heavy breathing followed.
I quietly looked down at her.
Should I scold her for learning a different martial art behind my back?
Or should I scold her for being so clumsy about it?
“Still… you’ve got real grit, Sowol.”
The words I chose were praise.
That too, is a kind of talent.
At Sowol’s tenacity, I couldn’t help but smile.
Sowol looked up at me, breathing hard.
But her eyes were still shining.
Sowol had stepped forward without realizing it.
Her heart had begun to pound as she watched Seorin sajeo exchange sword strikes with Teacher.
The tense atmosphere in the moment their swords clashed, the effortless technique of Teacher’s sword, and Seorin sajeo striving to break through it, everything about it made her envious.
She wanted to learn like that too.
To be taught directly by Teacher—sword to sword.
But before she could even open her mouth, her body had already moved.
“Teacher!! Look at me too!”
By the time she realized her voice had come out too loudly, it was already too late.
Everyone’s attention turned to her for a moment, and Sowol flinched.
But she couldn’t back down.
Teacher’s gaze landed on her.
A deep and weighty gaze.
It made her nervous—but also made her heart race.
She couldn’t turn back now.
But the sword she hadn’t wielded in so long didn’t move the way she imagined.
From the moment she took her stance with the sword, everything felt off.
She had practiced these moves countless times, yet when she tried to execute them with her body.
The timing was off.
The flow of her sword twisted, and her footwork wavered.
It was only natural.
In her past life, after Teacher died, she never held a sword again.
She had thrown the sword away and used her fists to survive.
She didn’t think that choice had been wrong.
But because she had lived for so long without the sword, it no longer felt familiar in her hands.
And Teacher didn’t miss that opening.
It happened in an instant.
Before she could even thrust her sword forward, her balance collapsed.
Teacher’s sword lightly brushed aside her blade’s tip, and at the same time, tapped at her ankle as if sweeping it away.
“Ah—”
She lost her balance in a flash.
The next moment, her body hit the ground.
Thud.
She collapsed face-first.
Before she could even process what had happened, she was already on the floor.
Sowol blanked out.
She had fallen too easily.
Teacher looked completely unfazed.
As if he had known from the beginning that she would end up on the ground.
In that moment, her stubbornness surged.
‘I can’t let it end like this.’
Sowol clenched her teeth and pushed herself up.
She discarded the sword and lowered her stance.
If the sword won’t work—then there’s another way.
The method most familiar to her.
She gathered power into her fingertips.
Shifted her center of gravity to her feet.
The Overlord Fist (패왕권, Paewanggeon) she had mastered in her past life.
Strong inner strength flowed into her arms, and in an instant, her body launched forward like a spring.
“Haaap!”
A powerful downward strike.
A fierce blow thundered toward her teacher.
But.
The wind brushed past.
Sowol’s fist tore through empty air.
And in the next moment.
A cold sensation touched her back.
Teacher’s hand was resting precisely on her shoulder.
“…What?”
Sowol’s eyes trembled.
She had thought she had taken the lead.
She had poured in her strength and struck with precision.
But, it had been so easily, so perfectly countered.
And it looked as if Teacher hadn’t even taken a single step.
‘That can’t be…’
This was a technique she had used countless times in real combat.
A power she had relied on after discarding the sword to survive.
It was the fist that had carried her through so many battles.
And then, in that moment.
Smack!
A sharp flick landed on her forehead.
“Uwah!”
It was a forehead flick.
Sowol squeezed her eyes shut and clutched her head.
It stung. It felt unfair.
But more than anything—it was embarrassing.
Teacher crossed his arms and gave her a small smirk.
“You’re much better than when you held a sword. But you’ve still got a long way to go, Sowol.”
Sowol puffed up her cheeks and clenched her teeth.
Teacher’s reaction made it feel even worse.
Not only had he casually brushed her off, but he was treating her like a child.
Sowol felt confused.
But more than that, the thought of how pathetic she must seem in front of her teacher made her uneasy.
So Sowol charged again.
Sword or fists—it didn’t matter.
She fell and got back up again.
As her strength began to fade, her movements became rougher, and her breath grew heavier.
But she couldn’t stop.
Even just once—just once, she wanted to catch a gap in her teacher’s defenses.
But in the end, not even once did she manage to land a single touch.
She couldn’t even graze the hem of her teacher’s robe.
Every time she attacked, it was deflected with ease.
Every time she tried to counter, her movement was blocked.
It felt like everything was unfolding in the palm of her teacher’s hand.
Sowol clenched her teeth and rushed in again.
Just this once—!
But Teacher remained composed.
As if he could see through her every move.
Whether she swung her sword or threw her fist, all she struck was empty air.
Suddenly, her knees buckled.
Her breath was caught high in her throat.
Her stamina had completely run out.
She tried to squeeze out one last burst of strength.
But her body no longer obeyed.
Her legs gave out, and she collapsed.
The cold floor caught her back.
Her breathing was ragged.
Her chest rose and fell without pause.
She no longer had the strength to move.
Her entire body felt like it was sinking.
Only then did the spar come to an end.
With hazy vision, Sowol looked up.
There stood Teacher, his posture still steady and unshaken.
Then, a low and firm voice reached her ears.
“You really do have spirit, Sowol.”
Sowol stared blankly at her teacher.
It wasn’t what she expected to hear.
She thought she would be scolded.
Told she was lacking—told she was hopeless.
But that one short sentence, somehow, it made her feel relieved.
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