Blue sat cross-legged beneath its dim glow, elbows resting on his knees, the scroll of Flowing Steel unrolled before him. The diagrams frustrated him—half-complete movements, missing strokes, cryptic annotations written in archaic script.
He tried again.
Step.
Pivot.
Breathe.
He stumbled.
“Grandfather,” he muttered, rubbing his temple. “Did you write this while drunk?”
[System Ping]: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 1% synchronization.]
"Still trying too hard. Less effort. More grace."
Blue frowned. That tone again. Personal. Familiar. He shook it off, planted his feet, and resumed.
Morning arrived faster than expected. Mist clung low to the earth when Blue stepped into the courtyard. His body still ached from the previous day’s drills. Each motion of the form felt heavy, misaligned.
Step. Pivot. Turn.
Wrong.
From the veranda’s shadow, Wu Cheng and Tang Yeol watched in silence.
“Watching him struggle feels familiar,” Wu Cheng said, arms folded. “I must’ve fallen a hundred times in front of Yoryeon. He called me Iron Feet.”
Yeol chuckled faintly. “He told me I moved like an oak running from an axe. ‘Timber Legs.’ How many bruises did we collect trying to keep up?”
Blue faltered mid-step.
He’d heard them. He pretended he hadn’t. Still… something about it steadied him.
Wu Cheng nudged Yeol. “One family. Five geniuses. Your brother was sharp, but this? This is something else.”
Yeol’s smile softened. “If it weren’t for that woman, my brother would’ve taken the Patriarch seat—not me. Seeing Blue now…” He exhaled quietly. “There’s no way she was just a waitress.”
Wu Cheng nodded slowly. “Your sister-in-law was more than she appeared.”
Later that morning, Blue stumbled through another sequence, muttering curses under his breath. His stance collapsed again. Before he could reset, Wu Cheng stepped forward. He said nothing. He simply moved. The demonstration was smooth—like calligraphy written in air. Each step folded into the next without resistance. Even the wind seemed to pause.
Blue stared.
He tried again.
Better.
[System Ping]: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 5% synchronization.]
Breathe. Qi and movement are one.
That voice again.
Not mechanical.
Not detached.
…Proud.
Blue exhaled slowly and continued.
By afternoon, the sun hung high overhead. Blue trained alone now, repeating the form until sweat pooled at his feet. Wu Jin approached the pavilion, stopping beside the two elders.
Tang Yeol nodded. “How’s their progress?”
Wu Jin folded his arms thoughtfully. “Mu Jang’s broken Jinhu down and rebuilt him three times. He’s strong. Finally learning control.”
“And Ilho?” Wu Cheng asked.
Wu Jin shook his head, faintly amused. “Sa Gwan hasn’t spoken a word. Ilho adapts anyway. I’ve never seen a recruit understand silence so quickly.”
Wu Cheng’s gaze remained fixed on Blue. “And him?”
Wu Jin paused.
“He’s learning faster than expected.” A beat. “Even I’m surprised.”
Silence lingered. Then Wu Cheng turned slightly.
“I know you lead Silent Edge, Wu Jin, but I’m pulling rank. Give them two weeks with their masters alone. Cancel the joint sessions for now.”
Wu Jin raised a brow. “Necessary?”
“Absolutely,” Wu Cheng said. “Let them master their individual paths first. Then we combine them. Three strengths. One unit.”
Tang Yeol smiled faintly. “Three blades. One edge.”
Wu Jin considered.
“…Agreed.”
They watched Blue continue moving, unaware of the shift in his training.
Wu Cheng cleared his throat quietly. “Tonight. Are you sure?”
Yeol didn’t look away from Blue.
“We’re short on time. This will either shape him… or break him.”
Wu Cheng studied him carefully. “You’re making this choice for him. Not for your pride.”
Yeol lowered his head slightly. “I set my pride down the day I gave him Father’s scroll.”
A pause.
“He’s ready.”
Dinner was unremarkable—salted greens, a hard biscuit, a dumpling Blue pocketed for later. That “later” was now. He sat on a low wall outside the barracks, chewing beneath the rising moon.
Crunch. Footsteps. He looked up. Wu Cheng and Tang Yeol stood before him. One carried a pack. The other, a bedroll. Blue blinked, mouth half-full.
“R ve gon’ on a twip?”
He swallowed hard.
“Sorry. Are we going somewhere?”
The elders exchanged a look.
“Sort of,” Yeol said.
“Try to keep up,” Wu Cheng added.
They turned and walked into the night. Blue grabbed the pack and hurried after them. Rooftops stretched like a dark sea. Wu Cheng and Yeol moved effortlessly across the tiles, barely disturbing a single one. Blue struggled behind them.
“These old men are trying to kill me,” he muttered.
He leapt—stumbled—recovered.
They didn’t slow. They cleared the final rooftop and vanished into the treeline beyond the compound. Blue landed on a mossy ledge, breath ragged.
For a moment, he lost sight of them. He stood alone beneath the canopy, night sounds alive around him.
“Is this even worth it…? Am I meant for this?”
[System Ping]: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 17% synchronization.]
The path less traveled forges stronger resolve.
Blue exhaled sharply. Ahead, moonlight spilled across a cliffside. He moved toward it. At the edge stood the two elders. Yeol stepped aside, guiding Blue forward.
“Notice anything?”
Below, nestled at the mountain’s base...The Tang Clan compound. Torchlight lined its walls. Steel clashed in the courtyard. Two figures sparred. Blue leaned forward.
“…So-Yeon.”
Her blade flashed like lightning. The other figure barely survived each exchange.
Blue turned sharply. “I thought I was supposed to stay hidden from her.”
Wu Cheng chuckled. “You are. That’s not why we’re here.”
He glanced down again.
“…Though seeing her train at midnight explains a great deal.”
Yeol stepped closer.
“This is where your grandfather trained me. Far enough from the clan to breathe. Close enough to remember who he fought for.”
He tapped Blue’s chest lightly.
“He may be gone. But he isn’t absent.”
Wu Cheng added quietly, “This is where I first saw Flowing Steel alive. Not written. Not fragmented. Alive.”
Yeol nudged aside several flat stones arranged in a circle.
“A formation?” Blue asked.
“Yes,” Yeol said. “Installed by the Jaegal Clan. Not for combat. For harmony. It forces qi and movement to align.”
“Stand in the center.”
Blue hesitated.
“Are you sure?”
Yeol’s gaze softened.
“It’s what he would have wanted.”
Blue stepped forward.
Inhaled.
Moved.
This time... It clicked.
No stumble.
No hesitation.
Breath and blade-less hands moved as one.
[System Ping]: [Flowing Steel – First Form: 25% synchronization.]
Asking for guidance is not weakness.
Blue stopped. Behind him, Wu Cheng muttered quietly, “We’re going to need more food.”
Tang Yeol sighed. “I agree onene week won’t be enough. I’ll ask So-Yeon for extra rations.”
A beat.
“Two weeks worth.” Cheng yelled as Yeol lept down the mountain face.
Blue froze mid-motion.
“Two weeks? Here? With you two?”
He turned slowly, eyes narrowing.
“You are trying to kill me.”
Wu Cheng grinned.
“No.”
A pause.
“That comes next week.”