While exchanging attacks with Namgung Ung, Seolhwa deliberately gave him an opening. And she found it. Namgung Ung's problem.
Clack—!
“!”
When Seolhwa swung her sword, Namgung Ung's wooden sword was sent flying far too easily. Namgung Ung stared at his own hand and the flying wooden sword with a bewildered expression.
“What are you doing?”
Seolhwa's rebuking voice was cold. Namgung Ung hastily cupped his fist.
“I have lost.”
“You said you would do your best. Was that your best?”
“…Pardon?”
Namgung Ung looked at her with a puzzled expression. He thought she was angry because he hadn’t properly acknowledged his loss in the sparring match, but the atmosphere was strange. Seolhwa held her wooden sword up before Namgung Ung's eyes.
“You saw it. The opening. But why didn't you attack?”
“Ah…”
“Your last strike, you didn't put your all into it, did you?”
Namgung Ung blinked his wide eyes as he stared at the tip of the wooden sword looming before him.
“Is this sparring match a joke to you?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why did you hesitate?”
“Th-that's… because I was afraid… you would get hurt, Sister….”
“Is that really the only reason? No, it's not.”
“Pardon?”
“That's not why you stopped.”
The reason Namgung Ung hesitated was because he was kind. Because Namgung Ung is young. He was worried that if he, a child, defeated his older sister, her feelings would be hurt.
To put it nicely, he is very considerate. To put it badly, it is hypocrisy.
‘And hypocrisy invites death.’
Hypocrisy stems from arrogance, and for a warrior, arrogance is a fatal poison. The sprout of a poisonous weed should not be allowed to grow. It must be plucked out and stomped on before it can take root.
“Pick up your sword.”
As Seolhwa took a couple of steps back, Namgung Ung picked up the wooden sword that had fallen to the ground.
“You want to go again?”
“From now on, I'm going to beat you.”
“…Pardon?”
“I'm going to strike you without mercy.”
Seolhwa raised her sword toward Namgung Ung. Namgung Ung also took his stance, but his expression clearly said, ‘Surely not.’
“I won't stop until your sword touches me. If you don't want to be hit, then come at me with all your might. If you want this to stop, you'll have to do something.”
“Umm…”
Should I answer? What should I say? But Namgung Ung's deliberation was pointless.
Before Namgung Ung could even finish his thought, Seolhwa rushed at him.
“!”
Crack—!
Namgung Ung reflexively blocked her sword. It was a strike so powerful it made him gasp. A menacing sound echoed.
It wasn't the sound of mere wooden swords clashing. The fine hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.
“Sister…?!”
Thwack—!
“Heok!”
In the blink of an eye, Seolhwa's wooden sword struck Namgung Ung's side. Only then did Namgung Ung realize her words were not a joke.
“Wa-wait…!”
But by the time he realized it, it was already too late. There was no time to block her sword coming from all directions.
Thwack! Whack!
Seolhwa's sword rained down relentlessly. He barely managed to block a few attacks, but before he could prepare for the next move, the wooden sword was upon him again. Honestly, Namgung Ung's pride was hurt.
He had only stopped his attack to save Seolhwa's face, so for the person he had gone easy on to speak like that, his pride was bound to be wounded. But how ridiculous that arrogance was.
Thwack-thwack-thwack! Thwack!
“Heok! Aack!”
In that moment, Namgung Ung had a desperate realization.
‘I have to do… s-something…!’
It's painful.
He wanted to burst into tears right away, but it didn't seem like crying would solve anything. To stop this merciless violence, there was only one way.
‘I have to strike!’
He had to attack Seolhwa himself.
Whack! Thwack!
Amidst the rushing attacks, Namgung Ung swung his sword and his arms wildly, desperately watching Seolhwa's movements.
Just once.
I just need to land a hit once. If I can just find one opening…!
‘Now!’
Namgung Ung thrust his wooden sword forward. But his sword failed to reach Seolhwa. The moment he thought he saw an opening, for some reason, her figure vanished from before his eyes.
“!”
After that, the merciless beating continued.
Thwack-thwack-thwack-thwack! Thwack!
“Hngh…”
Tears unknowingly streamed down his face. Again and again, he swung his sword at her openings, but not once could he touch her body.
“Sister! Sob. It hurts! It hurts!”
“Get a grip. Are we going to be here all night?”
At this rate, it felt like he would really be beaten to death. He had been hit so much that his ears were ringing and his mind was a complete blank.
‘I'm going to die! I'm really going to die!’
Before he knew it, he was crying sorrowfully. He forgot all about the sword techniques he had learned and just swung his sword blindly while wailing.
“Hwaaaaaaah!!”
At a certain moment, he saw her opening again. Namgung Ung instinctively caught Seolhwa's wooden sword, which was swinging towards his side, with his armpit.
And then. Thwack!
Namgung Ung's sword struck Seolhwa's forearm. In that moment, Namgung Ung smiled. The thought that it was finally over, and at the same time, the electrifying thrill of having reached her who seemed untouchable, resonated through him.
But the joy was fleeting. Namgung Ung thought, oh no, and looked up at Seolhwa.
“S-Sister. I-I didn't mean to…”
“How did it feel to die?”
Namgung Ung's eyes widened. He hadn't died, but he really thought he was going to. It was painful and frightening, and he was terrified because he couldn't stop it.
If this had been a real battle, he would have probably been torn to shreds, his form unrecognizable. At that thought, he felt a sense of injustice.
“I understand your intentions, Sister! But…! It was…! It was…! too harsh…! It really hurt!”
Who spars like this? Even if one side is overwhelmingly stronger, isn't a sparring match supposed to be done by going easy on the opponent? Just because I hesitated with my sword once!
To beat me like a dog!
“If it were a real fight, I wouldn't have hesitated with my sword either!”
The places where he was hit still throbbed, and tears welled up in his eyes. Namgung Ung's voice was full of grievance.
“Do you really think so?”
“Yes…!”
“I don't think so.”
Don't be ridiculous.
“The sword is honest. Whether in a sparring match or a real battle, every swing, every thrust, even a single breath, comes out as you have practiced. Why do we train to the point of death?”
“Uh… to become stronger…?”
“Training.”
Seolhwa poked Namgung Ung's shoulder.
“Is a process of engraving it into your body. A process of carving it into your instincts. For when fear stops your mind and clouds your judgment. So your legs will naturally perform the footwork, your lungs will breathe as if flowing, and your sword will not stop until it has cut down the enemy.”
That is the reason we repeat even the simplest movements tens of thousands of times. To engrave those movements not in the mind, but in the body. In a life-or-death situation, in that very brief instant.
So that the body reacts before the mind.
“Don't get used to hesitating. That single moment of hesitation will lead you to your death.”
Namgung Ung pressed his lips tightly together. Until now, Namgung Ung had never once fought an enemy who wasn't a member of the family. He had never crossed swords with anyone outside of ‘appropriately matched’ sparring matches.
And his opponent was usually his older brother, Soryong.
‘Because Big Brother gets angry when I defeat him.’
Because of that, at some point, after realizing he was stronger than his brother, he had always swung his sword ‘appropriately’. He had sparred so naturally while overlooking his opponent's openings. He thought that was how you showed respect to your opponent.
‘But what Sister says is right.’
Even in the sparring match with Seolhwa just now, though he hadn't consciously intended to, the moment he saw her opening, his sword faltered. If it's like this in a sparring match, would it really be different in a real battle?
‘No.’ The sword is honest.
Those words are right.
‘Looks like he understands.’
Seeing Namgung Ung's more serious expression, Seolhwa let out a short sigh. She had worried what she would do if he was too young to understand, but he was a bright child. For now, that was enough.
“Don't forget the attack you just made.”
Namgung Ung lifted his gaze to look at her. His eyes were somewhat bewildered.
“That… was a cowardly attack. It was an attack I could only make because I grabbed your sword so you couldn't swing it.”
I know I shouldn't hesitate, but such a cowardly attack, as a warrior….
“What's wrong with that?”
“…Pardon?”
“Whether you grab the opponent's sword, drive it into the ground, or break it. What does it matter how you win? The important thing is that you won.”
Namgung Ung blinked his round eyes. Seeing Ung's reaction, Seolhwa let out a small chuckle.
“No one knows the process anyway. Only the result of victory or defeat remains. You can just win first, and then insist you won fair and square, right?”
Namgung Ung's innocent expression turned to one of shock, and his small mouth fell open.
“…Pardon?”
Seeing his shocked reaction, Seolhwa hesitated for a moment.
‘Is it okay to tell him this?’
Namgung Ung was a child who suited the Namgung family more than anyone, and she wondered if she might be corrupting him.
‘But…’
Thinking of her past life, it seemed it would be alright for him to be a little tainted. After all, it was his righteousness that had held Namgung Ung back.
‘Yes. A little should be fine.’
Seolhwa smiled brightly and patted Namgung Ung's small head.
“Don't forget. In a real battle, to live is to win.”