Chapter vv15c4

**The Phoenix’s Lost Left Eye**

**- The Tale of Dokgo Ryeong, the One-Eyed Phoenix**

*Act 1, Scene 1 – The Right Time*

Yi Jin-seol was overjoyed. Dokgo Ryeong, the idol of countless young swordswomen, the strongest of the Seven Peaks, and the elder sister she admired, had offered to give her a personal swordsmanship lesson early in the morning.

A one-on-one lesson with Dokgo Ryeong.

It was an opportunity she could only dream of. Dokgo Ryeong was known for her cold and fierce demeanor, but Yi Jin-seol knew better. Beneath her harsh exterior, she was a kind and caring person. Those who knew her might not believe it, but Yi Jin-seol was certain of it. Except for the times when she was being too strict…

The black eyepatch that covered her left eye was a mystery. No one knew its origin. People called her the One-Eyed Phoenix, Dokgo Ryeong, and revered her.

“Listen carefully. It doesn’t matter if you use a long sword, a short sword, or twin swords. A true master can turn anything into a sword. The length, sharpness, or number of swords are meaningless against them. The key is to read your opponent’s movements and seize the right moment, the ‘opportune time.’ If you can’t do that, you’ll lose every battle. Only then can you exploit your opponent’s weaknesses.”

As she spoke, she suddenly thrust her sword at Yi Jin-seol. It was a simple thrust, but its speed and timing were impeccable, making it a deadly attack. Yi Jin-seol was caught off guard, but she managed to parry the blow with her right sword. She attempted to counterattack with her left sword.

Dokgo Ryeong was wide open, as if she were letting her guard down.

Yi Jin-seol saw her chance.

It was a rare opportunity to land a blow on the perfectionist. She was clearly off guard. This was her chance to impress her, to earn her respect.

‘Yes!’

She spun gracefully, like a butterfly, her twin swords poised to unleash her signature technique, the Twin Butterfly Dance.

But then,

She froze, as if time had stopped.

Her attack was aborted before it even began.

“Gasp! How… how did you…?”

She hadn’t seen it coming. She hadn’t even sensed it. But the tip of Dokgo Ryeong’s sword was pressed against her left shoulder blade, radiating a cold, sharp energy. Its position and timing were so perfect that Yi Jin-seol was completely immobilized, like a butterfly caught in a spiderweb. Dokgo Ryeong’s face was expressionless.

“As you know, exploiting your opponent’s weaknesses is crucial in a battle between masters. But you can’t exploit their weaknesses if you can’t read their movements, if you can’t seize the right moment. And the weaknesses you can exploit depend on your own skill. Weaknesses are relative, not absolute. The courage to close the distance, the boldness to seize the opportunity, the speed to exploit a fleeting opening, the strength to withstand your opponent’s attacks, the skill to deflect them… Your own strength and skill, and your understanding of them, are the deciding factors in a battle. That’s why you need to train your vision, your ability to perceive. Because your eyes are the ones that judge your own abilities. To blindly swing your sword, to rely solely on brute force, is the mark of a fool.”

Yi Jin-seol nodded repeatedly, her eyes wide with admiration. Dokgo Ryeong’s words were like gold. To receive instruction from the Sword Empress’s disciple! It was an incredible opportunity.

She knew that Dokgo Ryeong had offered to teach her because she was worried about her. She wanted to make sure she was prepared. That’s the kind of person she was.

Yi Jin-seol listened intently, determined to absorb every word. Perhaps she was finally growing up. Although there was no guarantee how long it would last.

Dokgo Ryeong continued,

“It doesn’t matter if you use one sword or two against a master. Don’t be fooled by the number of swords. Twin swords have their own limitations. You have to be careful not to let them interfere with each other’s movements, and your grip strength is weaker than with a single sword. You need to be aware of your weapon’s weaknesses, and you need to compensate for them by emphasizing your strengths. In other words, you need to position yourself in a way that maximizes your advantages. Remember that.”

She thrust her sword again. Actions spoke louder than words. Her attacks were simple thrusts, aimed at Yi Jin-seol’s vital points, but their speed and precision were relentless. Yi Jin-seol countered with her twin swords, her movements a blur of flashing blades, but she was being pushed back.

After twenty exchanges,

Yi Jin-seol’s face was contorted in frustration, her forehead beaded with sweat. Dokgo Ryeong, on the other hand, looked as relaxed as if she were taking a stroll in the park.

“Your twin sword style is too focused on flashy movements. It might be effective against weaker opponents, but against a true master, it’s nothing but a useless decoration. They can see through your illusions, they can distinguish between substance and shadow. And it wastes energy. That’s why you’re struggling to even block my simple thrusts.”

Yi Jin-seol, despite her cheerful and innocent appearance, was a dedicated martial artist with a thirst for knowledge. She couldn’t let this stand. She decided to unleash her strongest technique. Her eyes flashed, and her body split into two.

Twin Sword Double Chain Twelve Strikes!

A twenty-four-strike combo, utilizing her enhanced speed and agility. It was a technique she reserved for life-or-death battles and prestigious tournaments.

“You fool!”

Dokgo Ryeong, who had been calm and composed until now, was alarmed. This was a technique she couldn’t take lightly. But it wasn’t unbeatable.

Yi Jin-seol’s body flickered, splitting into two. Four swords, eight blades, a flurry of attacks.

“You’re still too naive!”

Dokgo Ryeong flicked her wrist, her sword darting forward, aimed at a single point.

Yi Jin-seol’s face crumpled. Tears welled up in her eyes, threatening to spill over.

She was frustrated.

She had given it her all, but it was still not enough.

Before she could even complete her twenty-four-strike combo, Dokgo Ryeong’s sword had intercepted her attack, its tip pressed against her throat. She had no idea how she had been countered.

Dokgo Ryeong shook her head, her voice laced with disappointment.

“You fool! I just explained this to you! If you focus too much on flashy movements, your attacks become predictable and your weaknesses become obvious. And if your opponent sees through your weaknesses, they can easily counterattack. And when your power is divided, it’s harder to land a decisive blow.”

Yi Jin-seol hung her head, chastised. Her shoulders trembled, as if she were about to burst into tears.

Even Dokgo Ryeong, with her heart of stone, couldn’t help but feel a pang of sympathy.

“Seol-ah, you always make things difficult for me! Don’t cry!”

She said, her voice soft and gentle, like a spring breeze, a far cry from her earlier thunderous roar. She placed a hand on Yi Jin-seol’s trembling shoulder.

Yi Jin-seol nodded, sniffing back her tears. She looked like a lost puppy.

“You don’t need fancy techniques against a master. Most battles are decided in a single exchange. Masters don’t move recklessly unless they see an opening. If there’s no opening, they wait. They wait for the right moment… And if there’s no right moment, they create one. And then they strike. That’s how masters fight. It doesn’t matter who strikes first. The important thing is who lands the first blow. A sword that doesn’t connect is as useless as words spoken to a deaf man. Of course, if you’re a supreme master, you don’t have to worry about any of this!”

Yi Jin-seol looked up at Dokgo Ryeong, her eyes red and puffy, but she managed a smile.

“Like the Sword Empress?”

Dokgo Ryeong shook her head, suppressing a chuckle.

“She’s not just a supreme master.”

“Then what is she?”

“She’s a god of the sword!”

Her voice was filled with conviction, like a prophet proclaiming an eternal truth. It was clear how much she revered her master. It was more than respect. It was faith.

“I’ve never seen her true strength. She rarely even draws her sword. She doesn’t need it anymore. I’ve only seen her draw her sword a handful of times. But when I stood before her sword, I felt something… something I’ll never forget.”

“What?”

It was a story about the Sword Empress, the idol of all swordswomen. Yi Jin-seol’s ears perked up, her tears forgotten.

Dokgo Ryeong closed her eyes, as if reliving the memory.

“I couldn’t sense any killing intent, any sword energy. But it was enough. The moment her sword pointed at me, I knew… I knew that no matter where I moved, no matter how I moved, I couldn’t escape. It was like an invisible net, a net woven from the sky itself, was closing in on me. It was a feeling of helplessness, of overwhelming power, that I can’t even describe. But if you ever encounter someone who makes you feel that way, run. Run as fast as you can. It means they’re far stronger than you, on a completely different level. You can’t win. There’s no shame in recognizing your own limitations.”

“Yes, Sister!”

Yi Jin-seol nodded obediently. She vowed to never forget those words.

“Hmm, she has a surprisingly gentle side.”

“Is that so surprising?”

Na Yerin asked. Bi Ryu-yeon nodded honestly.

“It is.”

They were sitting on a rock, a dozen zhang away from Dokgo Ryeong and Yi Jin-seol, observing them.

No one had agreed to this. It had become a regular occurrence. Bi Ryu-yeon didn’t ask for permission, and Na Yerin didn’t object. They walked together, breathing in the fresh air, their footsteps light on the dew-covered grass, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of red and orange. It was as natural as breathing.

“It’s hard to imagine, considering her usual behavior.”

Especially towards him. She treated him like a thief, a scoundrel. He couldn’t blame her. She was just trying to protect Na Yerin from unwanted attention. It was effective, but it was also a nuisance.

“Yes, she’s a formidable woman. Very strict. But…”

“But?”

“She’s also very kind. She used to be much brighter and more cheerful…”

Na Yerin trailed off, as if she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“That left eye… It’s not a birth defect, is it?”

Bi Ryu-yeon asked. Na Yerin nodded. A scar like that couldn’t be congenital. There had to be a story behind it. And it was probably not a pleasant one.

“The One-Eyed Phoenix…”

It was a name that inspired both admiration and fear in the Cheonmu Academy. Of course, the woman sitting next to him had her own legion of admirers, hundreds, perhaps even thousands, if you counted the entire martial world. But she didn’t seem to mind. In fact, she seemed to find it more of a nuisance than anything else. And some of them were definitely a nuisance.

“When did it happen?”

“Seven years ago… It was summer…”

Na Yerin’s memory was a vision of a woman, her face streaked with blood, her eye a gaping wound, standing in the pouring rain, her cries echoing through the storm. The sky seemed to weep with her, the rain mingling with her tears. They had all stood there, watching in silence, forgetting to even tend to her wounds.

“I suppose that’s a story you can’t tell me?”

There were stories that should be told, and stories that should be buried.

“Yes. But even if I wanted to, I couldn’t. No one knows what really happened that day.”

Her face darkened at the memory. It was a nightmare, a wound that time couldn’t heal.

“Did you know?”

“…?”

“She’s actually five years older than me.”

He hadn’t noticed.

“Because of… the incident seven years ago?”

“Yes. It was a serious injury. It took her two years to recover. And even longer to heal emotionally.”

Na Yerin’s face darkened again. Bi Ryu-yeon realized he had made a mistake. He might be unconventional, but he wasn’t insensitive. Or so he claimed.

It was rude to pry into someone’s past, especially if it caused them pain.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up bad memories.”

It was a rare apology from Bi Ryu-yeon. If anyone who knew him saw this, they would think the sun was rising in the west.

Na Yerin shook her head. She had never told anyone about this. She couldn’t. But why could she tell him?

“It’s okay. You didn’t know. I’m fine! Dokgo Ryeong has mostly recovered from her injuries. She’s smiling now. That’s all that matters. And it’s all thanks to Seol-yi.”

Dokgo Ryeong had been like a living corpse back then. But now, there was no trace of that sadness. Na Yerin was relieved.

It wasn’t her who had opened Dokgo Ryeong’s heart. It was that little girl. She had done something that Na Yerin couldn’t. She had been too emotionally numb back then, like a lifeless doll. She was grateful to Yi Jin-seol for that.

“But she’s been having nightmares since the Demonic Illusion Cave trial. I hope she’s okay…”

They had no idea what trials awaited Dokgo Ryeong.

A gust of wind swept past them, sharp and cold. Perhaps it was a harbinger of the darkness to come.

And the next day, a man arrived at the Red Plum Valley, having passed through the Three Gates of Calamity alone. His name was Bi, the First Young Master.