Chương 25: Voice Sent in Secret

At that moment. Just as Yeong-woo prepared himself for death and raised his blade, a sound as faint as a mosquito's buzz slipped into his ear. Why are you holding the sword like that? Is that even a sword form? You learned proper forms. Yet you throw them away and try to fight like a street dog. Are you a dog? Yeong-woo froze. It was Baek In-gyeom's voice. He looked around. No one was there. And none of the others seemed to hear it. It was the legendary Jeoneum-Ip-mil (傳音入密).

A master could channel inner energy into sound, pushing the vibration through the air. The wave would not scatter. It would travel like a thin thread through empty space and reach only the intended ear. That was voice sent into secrecy. Ah … Master is watching. He pretends not to care, yet he has been observing every move. It had not been long since he began learning, yet Yeong-woo was about to fight with crude knife brawling. Of course Baek In-gyeom scolded him. A swordsman must use a sword.

Yeong-woo sheathed the short dagger. Then he spun the belt ring and drew the Hwando. The backward draw flowed naturally. His movement carried a quiet elegance. The Daejeongs flinched.

"Well now," Yeong-woo said calmly. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"We're not back-alley thugs or gutter rats."

"Let's settle this properly."

"With swords." Another whisper slipped into his ear. The greatest danger when facing many enemies is being attacked from every direction. A swordsman must always place the enemy in a single line. Use walls. Doors. Alleys. Trees. Use terrain to restrict their direction. Even if they are many, if you face only one at a time, you have a chance. Keep moving. The moment you stop, you are surrounded. Move in circles. Shift to the side. Break their formation. Take them down one by one. Reduce their numbers quickly.

A fast strike. Complete disablement. Do not hesitate. Do not go too deep. Strike short. Withdraw immediately. If you chase one too far, the others will close in. Greed leads to death. Keep your vision wide. Never fix your gaze on one man. Watch shoulders and feet together. Force them to wait. Make them face you one at a time. When you strike, finish him. Ah … Why is he lecturing now, of all times? Baek In-gyeom rarely spoke. Yet suddenly he spoke endlessly. But every word was gold. Then the whisper came again.

You memorized that long heart method. Can you not do this much? Still provoking his pride. Yeong-woo grasped the Hwando with both hands. He stepped backward. The men spread apart. One rushed straight toward him. Yeong-woo stepped diagonally forward. He slipped past the attack and thrust the blade shortly into the man's stomach.

"AAK!" The man collapsed. Yeong-woo was more surprised that the blade had worked than by the fall. He had avoided a downward strike at an angle and stabbed into the exposed belly. Three more approached. He must not advance. He circled sideways. Just as Baek In-gyeom said— only one enemy at a time. The man before him seemed stronger. But still— only one. The enemy thrust. Yeong-woo struck the tip aside and lunged. The sudden push overwhelmed him. His training worked. He could see it working.

The enemy's neck opened before him. But that would be fatal. He twisted slightly and struck the shoulder instead. That hesitation became trouble. The man roared and knocked Yeong-woo's blade away. The force staggered him. Two men closed from both sides. He should have disabled him completely. But his heart had softened. A strike to the neck kills most men. Then the whisper came again. Breathing. Ah. He had forgotten. Everything in the world was built on breath. Yet he had not thought of it once.

He had just defeated two men. And now he was in danger again. Yeong-woo moved immediately toward the wall. The two enemies followed like they were tied by ropes. He kicked off the wall and vaulted away. They chased— but formed a line again. Yeong-woo's blade fell diagonally. This time his breath matched the strike. The enemy raised his sword. The blade shattered. Yeong-woo's sword crashed into his shoulder. The thin armor split. The flesh remained intact— but the impact shattered the shoulder bone.

"AAAGH!" The man collapsed. Yeong-woo stepped diagonally. Another man rushed in. The attacker planted his foot inward. A little too slow. A diagonal blade shot toward Yeong-woo. He twisted aside. Then smashed the man's forehead with the sword hilt. CRACK. A sound like breaking stone. The man fell.

"Four." It had taken only moments. But to those watching— Yeong-woo's movements looked like those of a master.