The candle flickered.
Blue sat cross-legged beneath its dim glow, elbows on his knees, the scroll of Flowing Steel unrolled before him. The diagrams frustrated him—half-complete movements, missing strokes, and cryptic annotations in an archaic script.
He tried again.Step. Pivot. Breathe.He stumbled.
"Grandfather," he muttered. "Did you write this while drunk?"
System Ping: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 1% synchronization.]
Still trying too hard. Remember, less effort, more grace.
Blue frowned. That tone again—personal. Oddly familiar.
He shook it off, planted his feet again, and resumed.
Morning came quicker than expected. Mist still clung to the earth when Blue stepped into the courtyard. He moved through the footwork clumsily, body sore from the previous day's drills. Each motion was accompanied by heavy breaths and frustration.
From the shadows of a nearby veranda, Wu Cheng and Tang Yeol stood in quiet observation.
"Watching him struggle feels so familiar," Wu Cheng said, arms folded. "I must've fallen a hundred times in front of Yoryeon. He called me Iron Feet."
Tang Yeol chuckled faintly. "He told me I moved like an oak running from an axe. Timber Legs, he called me. How many bruises did we get trying to keep up with him?"
Blue faltered mid-step, head tilting slightly. He had heard them, but pretended not to. Still, a small part of him felt… comforted.
Wu Cheng nudged Yeol. "You know what's crazy? One family... five geniuses. Your brother was sharp, but this? This is unheard of."
Yeol chuckled. "You're right, my brother wasn't someone to scoff at. If it weren't for that woman, he would've taken the seat as Patriarch—not me. Seeing Blue now, there's no way that woman was a normal waitress."
Wu Cheng nodded. "I do believe there was more to your sister-in-law than meets the eye."
Later that morning, Blue stumbled through another sequence, swearing under his breath. The stance was wrong, his steps misaligned. Every pivot felt off. Then Wu Cheng stepped forward, saying nothing at first. He moved. His demonstration was smooth—like calligraphy in motion. Each step flowed into the next, the air around his robes stirring gently as if the world paused to watch. Blue's eyes widened. He tried again, mimicking more carefully.
Slightly better.
System Ping: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 5% synchronization.]
Breathe. Qi and movement are one.
That voice again—familiar. Not just a system. It sounded… proud. Blue exhaled and pressed on.
Later that afternoon, Blue trained alone under the high sun, his movements becoming sharper, more fluid. Sweat dripped down his face, pooling beneath his feet as he traced the form over and over. Wu Jin approached the pavilion, quietly stepping beside the two elders.
Tang Yeol nodded a greeting. "How's their training progressing?"
Wu Jin folded his arms, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "Mu Jang's already broken Jinhu down and rebuilt him three times over. He's strong, but he's finally learning control. As for Ilho..."
Wu Jin shook his head, faintly amused. "Sa Gwan hasn't said a word, as usual, but Ilho seems to understand anyway. I've never seen a recruit adapt so quickly to his silence."
Wu Cheng nodded, gaze steady on Blue. "And Blue?"
Wu Jin's lips tightened briefly, then relaxed. "I've been watching. He's learning faster than expected. Honestly, he's surprising even me."
A moment of thoughtful silence passed. Wu Cheng finally spoke, turning to Wu Jin directly.
"I know you're the leader of Silent Edge, Wu Jin, but I'm pulling rank here. Give these boys two weeks to learn the footwork from their masters, after that we can bring them together for weapons training. Cancel their joint afternoon training sessions for now."
Wu Jin raised an eyebrow. "You believe it's necessary?"
Wu Cheng nodded firmly. "Absolutely. Let's get them ready for the spars first. All three have talent enough to master their individual skills in the time we have. Afterward, we'll put them together—form a unit. Each one's strengths covering the others' weaknesses."
Tang Yeol smiled. "Three unique blades forming a single, unbreakable edge."
Wu Jin considered, then nodded. "Agreed. Individual mastery first. I'll adjust their schedules accordingly."
They fell into silence again, turning their attention back to Blue, who moved gracefully, unknowingly watched, growing with every step.
Wu Cheng cleared his throat. "Tonight? Are you sure… can he handle it?"
Yeol sighed. "I suppose we'll find out just how far his resolve can carry him. No point in coddling him now. We're on limited time. This will either help... or break him."
Wu Cheng nodded. "Okay. I trust you're making this decision for him—and not for your pride."
Yeol lowered his head. "I put down my pride when I handed that young man Father's scroll. He's ready. Trust me, old friend."
Dinner was forgettable—some salted greens, a hard biscuit, and a dumpling Blue pocketed for later. That "later" was now.
He sat on a low wall outside the barracks, chewing while the moon rose overhead. The taste was bland, but comforting.
Crunch. Footsteps. He turned. Wu Cheng and Tang Yeol stood before him, one holding a pack, the other a bedroll. Both wore casual robes, but their expressions were anything but casual.
Blue blinked, mouth still half-full. "R vE GoNg On a TwIp?"
He forced the bite down. "Sorry. Are we going on a trip?"
The elders exchanged a look, then chuckled.
"Sort of," Yeol said.
"We suggest you keep up," Wu Cheng added.
They turned and walked off into the night. Blue quickly slung the pack over his shoulder and hurried after them.
The rooftops of Silent Edge stretched like a dark sea. Wu Cheng and Yeol dashed effortlessly across them, barely stirring a tile. Blue struggled behind them, the half-chewed dumpling still sitting uncomfortably in his gut.
"These old men are trying to kill me," he muttered.
He leapt to the next roof and stumbled. The elders didn't wait—they moved like ghosts across the tiles, leaping off the last rooftop and landing on a narrow outcrop that led into the hills. Blue caught up, breath ragged, just as they disappeared into the trees.
The woods were alive with night sounds. Crickets. Wind. The distant rush of a waterfall. Blue pushed forward, every leap more desperate. His body ached. The elixir still burned faintly in his veins. At one point, he lost sight of them. He landed on a moss-covered ledge and looked around wildly. "Is this even worth it...? Am I really meant for this?"
System Ping: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 17% synchronization.]
The path less traveled leads to greater resolve.
Blue exhaled sharply. Then, through the trees ahead, a faint glow. Moonlight bathed a stone cliff. At its edge stood the two elders.
He approached, still catching his breath. Yeol turned and stepped aside, grabbing Blue by the shoulders and gently guiding him to the edge.
"Notice anything?" he asked.
Blue squinted. Down below, nestled at the foot of the mountain— The Tang Clan compound. Faint torchlight lined the outer walls. But something else caught his eye. Steel clashed. Grunts echoed. Two figures sparred in a small clearing near the central courtyard. He leaned forward.
"It's... So-Yeon?"
She was in motion, blade sweeping fast as a flash. The other figure barely kept up.
Blue turned. "Is this why you brought me here? I thought I was supposed to stay hidden from her."
Wu Cheng chuckled. "You're half right. That's not why we brought you." He looked down at the courtyard. "Though now that I see her training at midnight… I understand why she is the way she is."
Yeol nodded. "This is where your grandfather trained me. His favorite spot—far from the burden of the clan, but close enough to remember who he was doing it for."
He pointed toward Blue's chest. "He may be gone... but he's still with us. I've come here hundreds of times since he left."
Wu Cheng added, "It's where I first saw Flowing Steel performed. Not read from a scroll. Not passed down half-complete. But alive. Moving like mist and shadow."
Yeol stepped closer. "This is where we'll train you now. It's time to walk the same path."
Blue stared down at So-Yeon a moment longer. Then turned and nodded. Above the Tang Clan. Beneath the stars. He turned back just in time to see Yeol kick aside a few flat stones arranged in a circular pattern.
"A formation?" Blue asked.
"Yes," Yeol said.
Wu Cheng chimed in. "Your grandfather had the Jaegal Clan install it. It's not for combat or illusions... it's meant to help you flow. Find your rhythm and qi and melt them together."
"Go ahead," Yeol added, nodding. "Stand in the middle. Try it."
Blue stepped cautiously into the center, widening his stance. He looked up at Yeol, hesitant. "Are you sure?"
Yeol's gaze softened. "This is what he would have wanted."
Blue inhaled, then moved. This time, it clicked. No stumbling. No tangling feet. His breath and limbs in harmony. Graceful. Clean.
System Ping: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 25% synchronization.]
Asking for help isn't a cry of desperation.
He stopped, blinking at the message.
Behind him, Wu Cheng muttered, "I think we're going to need more food."
Tang Yeol sighed. "Yeah… one week might not be enough. I'll go down tomorrow and ask So-Yeon if she can spare a week's worth of rations."
He paused, then added, "Two weeks should be enough."
Blue froze mid-form. "Two weeks… here? With you two? On this mountain?" He slowly turned to face them, eyes narrowing in horror. "You're really trying to kill me, aren't you?"
Wu Cheng grinned. "No, that comes next week."