Under the pouring moonlight, Jinhyuk and Seira faced each other, swords raised.
"I will guide the master," Seira said, tapping her own armor. "All the master needs to do is give everything he has to touch me even once."
"Master, quick question."
"Hm?"
"If I can't land a single hit, does that mean I won't reach the intermediate level?"
"Of course not. If that were the condition, the master's swordsmanship could never reach intermediate."
"Oh."
Anyone else saying it would have sounded arrogant.
But when it came from Seira, it was simply fact.
From their very first meeting until now, through countless training sessions, Jinhyuk had never once touched her.
"Today we use only swords. One blade or two, your choice. I'll keep my power at the same level as our usual training."
"Got it."
He drew a second sword.
The gap in raw strength made blocking head-on impossible whether he used one hand or both.
If blocking was out of the question, then the only option was all-out attack.
'I'm landing at least one hit.'
He took another deep breath.
"Let's begin."
Silence settled between them.
The instant he exhaled—
Swish.
Seira vanished.
The moment his senses caught her, a blade was already slicing toward his face.
Clang!
He angled his sword and deflected the blow, then twisted to strike at her side.
Seira slipped away lightly and flowed straight into her next move.
Normally he would have retreated.
In such tight quarters, her merciless barrage was simply too much to meet head-on.
But today he didn't back off.
It wasn't because the pressure had lessened.
Her sword was still blindingly fast and precise.
His mind was calm, his thoughts clear.
He was perfectly rational.
Yet—
Clang!!!
After only a few exchanges, he realized something.
He could keep up with her tempo now.
The two unique traits he had carved into himself while fighting Renya—Dokkaebi Killing Fist and Fighting Spirit—weren't limited to bare-handed combat.
They seeped into his body unconsciously and influenced every movement.
That was why his reaction speed had become incomparably faster.
Why he could read the path of her blade so much sooner.
And why he could now thrust, swing, and fire his own strikes far quicker than before.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Sparks exploded with every collision.
Before one died, another bloomed.
A dazzling fireworks of light painted the night around them.
Neither looked away.
Their eyes moved as fast as their blades, each reading the other's intent, then reading the movement born from that reading.
A razor-sharp battle of prediction and counter-prediction.
Naturally, Seira held the upper hand.
Even with her power restrained, her base ability, experience, and instinct were overwhelming in every respect.
And yet…
Clang!!
She still couldn't land a clean hit.
Was she pulling her strikes to avoid injuring him?
No.
Aside from the agreed limit, she was fighting at full strength.
Jinhyuk wore the Karakl Ring; it could easily shrug off two or three of her blows.
The real reason was simpler.
Every single movement had improved beyond recognition since their last session—elasticity, reaction speed, economy of motion—everything.
And those improvements had begun to feed into one another, creating true synergy.
His swordsmanship had grown, but the real explosion came from the bizarre, unpredictable combat style he had learned from Dark.
Even with motion detection working at maximum, attacks came from directions he could never have predicted.
When he should have blocked, he twisted and countered instead.
The number of variables skyrocketed, thoughts multiplied, judgment slowed, and every hesitation created a fatal lag.
Clang! Boom! Clang!!
The longer the exchange lasted, the clearer the hazy sensation in his mind became.
At one point Seira found herself muttering without realizing it.
"…Tricky."
In that exact instant, a sword came from an angle she had not read at all.
She judged in a heartbeat: this one she could not block.
BOOM!
*
"CAPTAAAAAIN!!!"
Kancho's scream echoed like a siren.
Yoo Jinhyuk reappeared with one side of his face massively swollen.
"Ugh…"
Elia and Carmela winced at the sight.
Just looking at it hurt.
"Master's face is a full moon! It's bigger than the one in the sky!"
"Is it that bad?"
Jinhyuk rubbed his cheek. Yeah, it was pretty bad.
"Ice pack, now!"
"Thank you, Teacher Momo."
While he pressed the ice to his face, Dark walked over with a smirk.
"Looks like the 'master' title has been retired for the night."
Normally Seira would have snapped at him.
Tonight she just slumped, shoulders drooping.
"I have no excuse."
It might have been the first time she had ever admitted fault instead of swinging at Dark.
She looked ready to sink straight through the floor.
Jinhyuk quickly pulled her close.
"It happened while you were teaching me. Part of the process."
"No, Master. This was clearly my mistake. I should have maintained control until the very end, but instinct took over the moment the situation became dangerous."
Seira let out a heavy sigh.
Before the spar began, she had boldly told him to land even one hit.
Yet when that moment actually arrived, her survival instinct had overridden reason and released her full power.
After blocking his strike, she had even countered beautifully.
"Wait, doesn't the master have the Karakl Ring? Why is it swollen?"
"Hit too hard."
The ring wasn't invincible.
Physical force beyond a certain threshold still got through.
In other words, Seira's fist had simply been too strong.
When the punch connected, he had genuinely thought he was going to die.
His life had flashed before his eyes.
Seira's shoulders drooped even lower.
Jinhyuk patted her gently and smiled.
"Who cares about a swollen face? The important thing is that I got what I wanted."
He opened his status window.
[Black Knight Order Swordsmanship – Intermediate Lv. 1]
The moment he had been sent flying, the promotion message had appeared.
Even while sprawled on the ground, he had been grinning.
Achieving the breakthrough without a Blank Card made it feel even more meaningful.
His swordsmanship had genuinely grown.
"The aura color changed too. Not pure black, but a deep blue-black…"
He summoned his aura to show them.
Whoosh!
A clean cutting sound.
A very familiar one.
"Huh?"
Kancho was standing far away.
Which meant—
"MOOOOMOOO!!"
Somehow Momo had crept right beside him.
Half her hair was now a perfect bob.
"It's uneven now…"
"Where did Momo's hair go?!"
"Scattered on the floor. It's dead."
"Ugh…"
Momo froze solid.
Kancho poked the petrified girl.
"Turned into a statue."
"Our chubby one became lopsided."
"Cheeks are still nice and plump. Like rice cakes."
Whether the haircut was ruined or not, Carmela and Elia immediately started kneading Momo's cheeks.
"Sorry, Momo! First thing when we leave, we're going to a salon."
Jinhyuk prayed there was at least one decent hairstylist in Reykjavik who could fix that tragic uneven cut.
He scooped up the frozen Momo and hit the exit button.
He could return to the Tower of Despair later.
First, fix the hair and wait for the swelling to go down.
Goal accomplished.
*
Outside the hotel, he summoned Momo again.
"Where are we?!"
"Outside the hotel. We need a salon."
"I'm fine with uneven hair!"
She had been a statue a minute ago.
Recovery speed of a champion.
"I don't think you are."
"Uh… yeah. Let's keep looking."
The thought of cute little Momo walking around with a hacked-up bob was unbearable.
He also pictured Yu Soo-yeon's reaction.
If he brought Momo back like this, the woman who could never put the little one down would lose her mind.
Step by step, following the map.
"Closed again."
Third salon, same story.
Now that he thought about it, the city felt strangely empty.
When they had first arrived he'd chalked it up to the early hour, but this was different.
Every shop was shut.
Hardly anyone on the streets.
A city with a major airport shouldn't feel this deserted.
"Is Momo's hair still uneven?"
"Let's walk a little farther. Surely one place is open. If not, I'll just even it out myself. There are scissors in the kitchen—"
Momo gave him the most distrustful look he had ever seen from her.
"Better not. Leave it to a professional."
"Right! Professionals only!"
"Yeah, yeah."
They were walking hand in hand, Momo humming happily, when he suddenly spun 180 degrees.
Black bob, dead ahead.
The lunatic from the elevator.
"Why the sudden U-turn?!"
Momo shouted as he tucked her under his arm and tried to slip down another street.
"Your face is impressive. Who hit you?"
A calm voice stopped him.
Roche had already noticed.
"Oh? Hello. When did you get here? You're really cute."
"Hello!"
"Look at those puffy cheeks. But who ruined our little cutie's hair?"
Momo pointed straight at Jinhyuk without hesitation.
"Hmm."
Roche stared.
Jinhyuk swallowed.
He suddenly understood exactly how Seira had felt earlier.
"Probably no salons open today."
"Is it a holiday or something?"
Terror and war threats—information he had already obtained through Black Wings.
The citizens wouldn't have evacuated just for that.
"I only arrived today, so I don't know the city's situation well."
Roche stood and continued.
"I can fill you in. And…"
She pointed at Momo, smiling.
"I'm pretty good with hair. Care to try?"
The smile was sweet.
Too sweet.
Jinhyuk narrowed his eyes.
He really didn't want to get tangled up with this person.
But the offer was dangerously tempting.
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T/N:
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