Sparring is an excellent means of conversation.
Not with words, but a profound exchange through swords.
In the instant swords clash, you can glimpse your opponent's past depending on their realm.
Through the subtle harmony of feints and real strikes in every moment, you can even discern their disposition.
The more you come to know your opponent, the deeper and truer this conversation becomes.
Just as something can be conveyed through a silent gaze without words, there's a transmission even without crossing swords.
This wasn't the first time sparring with Cheongwol.
Of course, it was the first time in front of people, but the Emei Sect and the Tang Clan were geographically close, providing frequent opportunities to spar.
Even then, it had never been this intense—just brief exchanges of a few moves...
Cheongwol was of the same kind as her.
One who had touched the Heart Demon, a kindred spirit.
The seed planted in her heart—Dang Soran had sensed it faster than anyone.
Perhaps even before Cheongwol herself.
Reading a person's inner self is always difficult, but kindred spirits recognize each other first.
It was an instinct like that of a beast, a sensation beyond explanation.
And at that moment, Dang Soran had to admit it.
...She felt immense relief knowing there was another being suffering from the Heart Demon just like her.
Relief at the fact that someone else was broken like her.
When she discovered herself smiling faintly at another's misfortune, she felt disgust...
But even so, emotions aren't something you can control like reason.
No matter how she tried to deny it, she couldn't refute the relief she felt.
For Dang Soran, who had endured excruciating solitude and carried a burden she couldn't share with anyone, the existence of a kindred spirit was great comfort.
And with that sense of kinship came deep pity.
You're struggling there too.
You're crying there too.
You must be suffering so much too.
And that emotion gradually grew, settling into a certain closeness.
It wasn't about wanting to be friends with Cheongwol.
Cheongwol's personality made her too difficult to get close to.
She wore a gentle smile before the worldly, but that was merely a mask.
Dang Soran could tell.
Because she wore the same mask.
So it was nothing else.
...She just hoped Cheongwol would stay in that place.
An ugly desire she couldn't voice to anyone.
Just as she couldn't escape this Heart Demon no matter how she thrashed, she hoped Cheongwol wouldn't leave her behind.
She had even somewhat accepted it. That the Heart Demon couldn't be shaken off.
Thus, being left alone terrified her all the more.
Perhaps it was the nature of her Heart Demon.
If Cheongwol's Heart Demon resembled deep rage...
Dang Soran's Heart Demon was profound emptiness.
This heart that couldn't be filled no matter what she did. This loneliness.
The feeling that she had no world of her own.
Only in the moments when countless people cheered for her could she quench this thirst.
And when that cheering faded, what filled the thirst was the existence of kindred spirits.
Not just Cheongwol, but based on information from the Hao Gate or Beggars' Sect.
The more beings afflicted by the Heart Demon, the more her ugly heart found relief.
Knowing they existed kept her from feeling lonely.
They proved she wasn't the only freak.
...Right now, she just wanted confirmation.
She had heard about the corpses found on Mount Emei.
Lately, under the Heart Demon's influence, Dang Soran had deteriorated so much that she no longer cared about others' gazes.
She was curious.
“...We're the same kind, after all.”
Whether you were in a worse state than her.
Whether you hurt more than her.
What choice you made.
“...That's why I'm curious about your choice.”
“...Kindred spirits?”
At Cheongwol's whisper, Dang Soran nodded.
“...Yeah.”
Before she knew it, Dang Soran had poured numerous emotions into this spar.
She could faintly sense Cheongwol's change.
So she needed to confirm more.
You have to be afflicted by the Heart Demon. For me not to be lonely.
So my struggles won't be meaningless.
Thus, she would prove it. By breaking her.
****
...Kindred spirits?
Cheongwol understood the hidden meaning without Dang Soran explaining further.
Heart Demon.
She felt that it referred to sharing that affliction.
Perhaps she had instinctively known it too.
Just as Dang Soran said, kindred spirits.
From the naturally emanating aura, she could sense the burden Dang Soran carried.
Whoosh.
Dang Soran's body shot forward in an instant.
Before Cheongwol could react, the dagger sliced through the air toward her side.
“You're suffering as much as me, or maybe even more.”
A whisper meant only for her ears.
But Cheongwol shifted her center faster than the dagger, dispersing the attack.
Her neatly bound hair swayed in the momentary wind.
“...Wol-ah, we know this pain.”
At those words, Cheongwol's fingertips trembled faintly.
But soon, with clear eyes fixed on Dang Soran, she replied.
“...So what?”
The next clash.
The moment sword met dagger, a massive roar echoed across the stage.
“As I said, I'm just curious about your choice. How you've endured this inescapable pain.”
Cheongwol's body spun obliquely, her sword tip tracing a crescent moon.
Dang Soran lightly leaped back, escaping the sword path.
“If you're curious about mine, shouldn't Senior Dang reveal hers first?”
Dang Soran's lips twisted subtly.
Now, that smile felt different.
A slightly chilling sensation.
Dang Soran's long sleeve fluttered, and Cheongwol immediately turned her head to dodge the incoming poison needle.
“...My choice... isn't hard.”
Dang Soran's movements sharpened again as she lunged.
As if throwing the attack to continue speaking.
“Where did you hear that story? About a certain Taoist... Loved by all, deeply immersed in cultivation... but a monster more evil than any lived in his heart.”
As Cheongwol stepped back to widen the gap, Dang Soran pursued without catching her breath.
“Chased endlessly by the impulse to kill, mocking those who revered him, wanting to throw children clutching his robes into the river.”
Cheongwol matched Dang Soran to some extent.
She had her reasons for wanting to hear the story.
“But this Taoist hid that demon until his death. So, should we call him a villain or a righteous man?”
A long silence laced with breaths.
Dang Soran stepped forward and concluded briefly.
“I'm going to become that Taoist.”
At the uncomfortable tale, Cheongwol gritted her teeth.
Shaoyang Sword Technique, Third Form.
Moonlit Flowing Shadow.
Feigning retreat, she lowered her center.
As the sword cleaved the air, its trajectory was fluid and natural, like a dance.
A motion repeated hundreds of times.
Arm reflex, shoulder tension control, knee elasticity—all meshed into one.
Dang Soran's left sleeve tore, spilling poison needles and hidden weapons onto the ground.
Cheongwol looked at the retreating Dang Soran and answered.
“...I can't live like that.”
“I know. That's not your personality. But you have to choose, right? This Heart Demon will be with us for life... And for now, just give up.”
Dang Soran pointed to Cheongwol's forearm.
A poison needle was embedded there unbeknownst.
Black poison needle.
“Your vision will black out soon. Don't worry too much. It's temporary.”
Ah. She got me.
“We've shown the spectators enough. No need to struggle more.”
Dang Soran's tone held deep contempt for the onlookers.
“Wol-ah, I've said it with my own mouth. Why I wanted this spar. I wanted a conversation with you... And to become that Taoist, I showed them what they wanted to see.”
Cheongwol blinked.
As the Poison Phoenix said, her vision darkened gradually, like heading into a cave.
The more she wanted to win, the more frustration welled up.
“On the other hand, why did you accept this spar?”
“...”
At the question, Cheongwol momentarily scanned her surroundings.
Why?
The cheers of countless people finally reached her ears.
“Poison Phoenix!! Poison Phoenix!!”
“Young Lady Dang Soran!! Push harder!!”
“A bit more!!”
“Don't give up, Young Lady Cheongwol!! Thirty techniques are at stake!”
Through her blackening vision, she took in the people's faces.
Those who had cheered for her were now roaring at the intense spar.
Excitement blooming on every face. Frenzied cheers.
Only then did Cheongwol realize what they truly wanted wasn't victory, but mere entertainment.
Even the Emei Sect villagers were chanting the Poison Phoenix's name.
Those who had fawned over her obsequiously just days ago.
The buried Heart Demon writhed again.
Why did she spar? To become a spectacle?
To find even a sliver of reason, she turned her head the other way.
Countless first-generation disciples. Regret filled their eyes.
Everyone seemed to have already anticipated the outcome and given up.
Second-generation disciples. Senior brothers. Some hid smiles, seemingly mocking her.
Cheongwol rubbed her eyes. Nothing changed.
Was this the true face of the Emei Sect she belonged to?
No, she had known... But feeling it anew from the sparring stage doubled the pain.
They asked for her reason, and she wanted to speak... but there was nothing to cite.
Especially the senior brothers and villagers.
...Does my loss make you that happy?
She wanted to wipe those smiles off their faces at once.
If she just unleashed the Extermination Sword here... surely... she could flip their expressions in an instant.
Her limits weren't here.
Dang Soran consoled her again.
“...Stop here, Wol-ah. I've achieved my goal. If you don't want more humiliation... just forfeit. You can't live with shame, can you?”
“...Ha.”
At Dang Soran's following words, a hollow laugh escaped.
It felt like her mind snapped awake in a flash.
Cheongwol unwittingly chuckled.
Dang Soran tilted her head, as if not understanding.
Perhaps until recently, Dang Soran would have been right.
But now, Cheongwol knew it wasn't entirely true.
The chilling time in the basement resurfaced.
...She had, in her own way, become someone who could endure humiliation and shame.
“Senior Dang doesn't know me.”
Just before her vision fully closed, Cheongwol turned her head toward Han Seojin.
He was far away, but she spotted him instantly.
The most furrowed brow of all. Jaw clenched tight.
...The worried expression Cheongwol wanted to see.
That was the last thing before her vision blacked out.
But a smile graced Cheongwol's lips.
Her rampaging heart calmed again.
She found the reason for the spar.
“We're not kindred spirits.”
“...What?”
Cheongwol gathered her qi.
She felt explosive energy flowing from her dantian.
Just think of it as wearing a blindfold.
Sense the gazes.
Like in Han Seojin's basement.
Her qi flowed over her skin.
At the same time, the presences around her became perceptible even with eyes closed.
Cheongwol lunged at Dang Soran.
At a point where she would normally have forfeited, she closed in again.
“Ah...! What...!”
Dang Soran hurriedly rummaged in her sleeve, but found nothing in the already torn fabric.
The sword hilt plunged into Dang Soran's solar plexus.
“-Guh!”
The Poison Phoenix's legs buckled.
Cheongwol didn't withdraw her sword. She kept the tip aimed at Dang Soran.
A result from a moment's surprise and the opponent's lapse.
Though she couldn't see Dang Soran's face, the stifled, trembling breaths rang clear.
“Ch-Cheongwol wins!”
At her master's voice, cheers erupted.
Cheers she might have once enjoyed hearing.
She might have felt good about defeating the Poison Phoenix.
“...Haa... haa...”
But Cheongwol's focus was entirely elsewhere.
She wanted to see one person's face. Just one expression.
“...Senior Dang, the antidote please.”
“...”
“Senior Dang.”
“...”
Dang Soran didn't respond.
“Master!”
Cheongwol urgently called Soun next, and Soun along with Tang Clan retainers ascended the stage.
Cheongwol took the antidote and swallowed it hastily, then circulated her remaining qi to expel the poison spreading through her body.
Her blackened vision gradually returned.
She kept blinking.
“Awesome!! Damn, that was great!! What was that!!”
Finally, Han Seojin's image jumping with joy entered her sight.
“H-Having fun, Seojin?”
Grabbing beggars' heads, he couldn't contain his glee.
Seeing him rejoice as if it were his own victory, a natural smile formed on Cheongwol's lips.
A genuine smile, one she couldn't recall smiling in so long.
The spectators gasped in admiration at her smile.
Cheongwol simply swallowed the feelings she couldn't convey to Han Seojin.
...I did it for you.
Unknowingly, overwhelming emotion made her bite her lip slightly.
For you, who worries for me.
Pleasure coursed through her mind.
She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this happy.
****
Dang Soran sat collapsed on the ground, blinking blankly.
One question filled her mind.
...Why did I lose?
She slowly looked up at Cheongwol.
Her radiant smile.
Even as a woman, it was blindingly beautiful.
More than her skill, Dang Soran was shocked by her smile.
A smile a kindred spirit couldn't wear.
“...You...”
Dang Soran whispered, stunned.
“...Your Heart Demon...”