Seolhwa stepped into the center of the dueling arena, sword in hand.
There was no warning in her movent, but Ryeong did not try to stop her. No—she couldn't.
Because she understood what Seolhwa was about to do.
Standing at the heart of the sparring ground, Seolhwa took hold of her sword. She exhaled a long, quiet breath and assud her stance.
They say a swordswoman speaks through her blade.
In this mont, Seolhwa was answering Ryeong’s question—
With her sword.
“...”
Ryeong’s eyes trembled, as did the gazes of the Red Dragon Division mbers. They recognized the form.
The stance Seolhwa took was the foundation of all Namgoong swordsmanship.
It was the First Form of the Grand Vast Sword Art.
Silence filled the arena. Then a child’s voice—calm, solemn—cut through the stillness.
“When one bears the will of Heaven’s net stretched over all creation, there is nothing that cannot be cut.”
Seolhwa’s sword moved.
“Grand Vast Sword Art, First of the First Three Forms—Heaven-Cutting Slash.”
As if tracing the sky from which all things descend, her blade cleaved through the world.
It did not stop.
“If Heaven and Earth are one, what in the world could remain unbroken?
Grand Vast Sword Art, Second of the First Three Forms—World-Cleaving Rend.”
Seolhwa struck downward.
But no, it wasn’t rely a strike. It was a movent that linked heaven and earth. A sacred act, dividing the world along the line of creation.
Ryeong felt a shiver race down her spine.
It was the sa sensation she’d vaguely felt the first ti she saw Seolhwa’s sword at the training grounds.
It hadn’t been the Three Elents Sword Style.
That day... what Lady Seolhwa used...
It wasn’t so lower-level martial art made of simple movents.
Seolhwa moved once more.
“Those who carry the principles of Heaven can pierce through anything beneath it.”
With her sword still in hand, she slid her right foot back, locking her gaze forward.
“Grand Vast Sword Art, Third of the First Three Forms—Heaven-Piercing Thrust.”
She thrust her sword.
It was nothing more than a clean strike aid at empty air.
And yet, those watching swore they saw her blade pierce through sothing.
A faint breeze stirred around her. Her sleeves fluttered briefly, then fell still.
No one dared speak. No one moved.
The mystery of heaven and earth felt in those simple motions sent a thrill through every bone in their bodies.
Swordsmanship is made of forms, and forms are made of strokes.
Depending on the creator, the movents change. The paths the blade takes multiply endlessly.
But in the end, swordsmanship is composed of nothing more than slashing and thrusting.
“This... is how I fight.”
Ryeong swallowed hard.
Seolhwa’s sword was flawless—complete to the degree that it could be called a Perfected Mastery of the Grand Vast Sword Art.
Even as a mber of the elite Black Dragon Corps, Ryeong couldn’t be sure she could wield it with such refinent.
But the more important question was—
“How... did you learn it? The Red Dragon Division Leader never taught you a thing.”
Her aning was clear: how could Seolhwa master sothing she was never taught?
Seolhwa glanced down calmly at her sword and replied.
“He set to practice the Three Elents Sword Style, but he taught the Grand Vast Sword Art right beside . The Three Elents style—though simple—is the ◈ Nоvеlіgһт ◈ (Continue reading) basis of all swordsmanship.”
When one begins to learn the sword, they start with cuts and thrusts.
“The First Three Forms of the Grand Vast Sword Art embed the mysteries of heaven into those very sa movents. They’re the Namgoong Clan’s foundation. The motions may differ in shape, but they’re teaching the sa blade.
So how could I not learn?”
“...!”
Ryeong’s eyes widened in shock.
Was she saying...?
She mastered the Grand Vast Sword Art simply by watching from a distance?
Not just the movents—but the essence of Namgoong’s philosophy, encoded in the forms?
Could that even be possible?
But there it was—unmistakably—right before her eyes.
This woman...
She’s the real thing!
Ryeong thought back to the words of her father—a senior of the First Unit of the Black Dragon Corps.
“If you walk the martial path in service to another, choose a master stronger than any.
Their strength will beco your pride.”
From that mont on, she had dread of eting such a master.
And to serve such a master, she herself had trained relentlessly—for twenty-five long years.
Now her instincts as a martial artist were shouting the truth.
This woman is a true martial genius. She is Namgoong’s great blessing.
This is the one—
A sharp crack echoed through the arena.
Seolhwa turned.
Ryeong had thrown aside her shattered wooden sword and dropped to one knee, fist pressed respectfully to palm in salute.
“Namgoong Ryeong, First Sword of the Black Dragon Corps!
As of this mont, I pledge myself to Lady Namgoong Seolhwa as my master!”
“...”
“Please, punish for my earlier arrogance—
For failing to recognize my master with the eyes of a fool.”
This was more than a display of loyalty. It was a declaration:
From now on, Seolhwa’s command would co before even the Namgoong Clan’s.
Seolhwa had revealed her sword rely to demonstrate her resolve, and now she had earned unwavering allegiance in return.
Caught slightly off guard, she blinked in silence.
From below the arena, Namgoong Jihyung shouted up:
“You were incredible, Lady Seolhwa! In all my years in Namgoong, I’ve never seen the Grand Vast Sword Art perford like that! It was an honor to witness your blade!”
The voices of the Red Dragon Division followed:
“You were amazing, Lady Seolhwa!”
“Unbelievable! We respect you so much!”
“You were the best!”
Seolhwa looked out at them.
And said nothing.
There was pride in their bright laughter—pride for the one they now served.
Their carefree laughter rang out, loud and infectious, as if for a mont they could forget the reality that lay ahead.
This wasn’t the reaction Seolhwa had intended to provoke when she revealed her sword.
But—
...Maybe this isn’t a bad outco.
She didn’t mind the feeling.
A faint smile touched Seolhwa’s lips.
Whatever the case, it seed the training had been a success.
****
It was as they neared the residence, after their training had concluded.
“Take that back! I said take it back!”
“Let go of ! I said let—gooo!”
“You lunatic!”
A commotion broke out near the main hall.
Recognizing the familiar voices, Seolhwa and Ryeong rushed toward the sound.
And as expected—there was Yeoyul, rolling on the ground, locked in a fierce hair-pulling brawl with several maids.
“Get off her! Now!”
Ryeong stepped in front of Seolhwa, shouting sharply.
The maids, tangled up in the scuffle, froze at the sight of Ryeong in the black uniform of the Black Dragon Corps.
Startled, they scrambled to their feet and lined up in a row.
Yeoyul, who had been pinned beneath them, sprang up too—panting, furious—and glared daggers at the others.
“What in the world is going on here? Do you know where you are? And you have the nerve to be fighting?”
“W-we... it’s just...”
The maids stamred awkwardly, but Yeoyul was too angry to let them speak.
“Guard! You’re the lady’s escort, right? That gives you authority, doesn’t it? Punish them. All of them! Give them a real beating!”
Ryeong frowned.
“Explain what happened first. Punishnt cos after.”
“If you knew what they said about my lady, you’d be furious too!”
“...What? About the lady?”
Ryeong’s heart sank.
Yeoyul was agitated. Her eyes were wild. And she still hadn’t noticed Seolhwa behind her, obscured by Ryeong’s body.
“She hasn’t seen her...” Ryeong started.
“Wait, Yeoyul, before you say anything—”
“Oh? You know my na? Wait—no, that’s not the point!”
“Just wait a mont—”
“They said my lady used to work at a pleasure house! Can you believe that?!”
“...!”
“And not just any pleasure house—a high-class courtesan house!”
Yeoyul glared at the maids, who now hung their heads with ashen faces, trembling.
Ryeong felt the world spin for a mont.
She’d tried to cut Yeoyul off, recognizing it was about Seolhwa—but she hadn’t managed in ti.
But more than that—what she’d just heard left her in shock.
What... what did I just hear?
That the lady was from a pleasure house? A courtesan house, no less?
As the full weight of those words settled in, blue energy began to surge uncontrollably from Ryeong’s body.
“How dare you speak of her like—”
“You’re all dead now!” Yeoyul declared triumphantly.
Just then, a small hand grabbed Ryeong’s arm as she reached for her sword.
Startled, Ryeong turned.
“L-Lady...”
“Exactly. The lady is here now, so you’re—wait. L-Lady...?”
Seolhwa stepped past Ryeong and stood directly in front of the maids.
At the sight of her, all color drained from their faces. Their bodies began to shake.
“Say that again,” Seolhwa said softly. “What did you say I was?”
But no one answered. They only kept their heads bowed.
Seolhwa stepped toward one of them.
“I’ll ask just once more.”
She took the maid by the chin and lifted her head.
The girl’s eyes trembled with frantic fear.
But Seolhwa’s gaze remained utterly calm—serene, steady, and terrifying.
“What did you say I was?”
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