Baek Sun-Ho stood in the mist-shrouded rear courtyard of Dustcloud Sect, just before sunrise. The plum trees swayed gently. Birds hadn't begun to sing. Even the wind seemed to wait.
Whrrr…
"Do you know what makes a tiger feared in the forest?" Jang Cheol-Oh's voice cut through the silence as he strolled into view, holding two steaming teacups.
Sun-Ho didn't answer immediately. He took one of the cups, bowed lightly, and sipped.
"…Its teeth?"
Jang Cheol-Oh grinned.
Sssip.
"No. The fact that you don't see it before you die."
---
Lesson One: Concealment
He placed the teacup down on a stone and cracked his knuckles.
Kwak. Kwak.
"I've seen prodigies in Murim. Sword saints, fire-callers, qi-casters with dragon blood. And they all made the same mistake."
Sun-Ho raised an eyebrow. "They revealed their strength too early."
"Exactly."
Swish.
Jang flicked his sleeve and sent a small, perfect arc of energy through the air. It curved harmlessly away and vanished before it struck the trees.
"No one fears the shadow that screams. They fear the one that waits."
He stepped forward.
"You're a candidate for Murim leadership. If they know how strong you are, the council will remove you."
"They'll disqualify me?"
"They'll bury you. Permanently."
---
The War Behind the War
Sun-Ho's eyes narrowed.
"So that's how far the corruption goes."
Cheol-Oh's tone dropped.
"The Alliance doesn't fear chaos anymore. It fears change. And you? You look like change wearing a calm face."
He gestured for Sun-Ho to follow.
"Come. Time to teach you how to lie with your body."
---
The Art of Strength Veiling
They walked to a shallow stone basin filled with cold water. A single floating leaf drifted across its surface.
"Strike the water with force," Jang said.
Sun-Ho did.
SPLASH!
Water exploded upward.
"Now," Jang said, folding his arms, "strike again—this time with the same power, but disturb nothing."
Sun-Ho frowned.
"That's not—"
"It is. Concealment isn't silence. It's deception. Suppress your qi, tighten your breath, reverse your energy flow."
Sun-Ho focused. His core burned gently.
Thmm.
He struck.
The leaf trembled.
"No good," Jang said.
"Again."
---
Hours Passed
Sunlight climbed higher. Disciples peeked around corners, but Jang waved them off with flicks of his sleeve.
"Private training. Scram."
Yeon So-Ri sat on the rooftop, pretending to polish a crossbow. Watching. Listening.
Sun-Ho struck again.
Fwup.
The water rippled slightly.
"Closer."
His expression remained unchanged, but sweat dripped from his chin.
He tried again.
Shhhff.
This time, the leaf barely shifted.
Jang nodded slowly.
"There it is. Now try walking."
Sun-Ho blinked. "Walking?"
"With power suppressed. Qi veiled. Intent hidden. The greatest swordsman is the one whose blade you never expect."
---
Quiet Power
Later that day, Sun-Ho stood alone in the forest trail behind the sect, eyes closed.
He inhaled.
Hhhhh…
His spirit coiled inward. Instead of pushing energy outward like before, he drew it close—binding it beneath skin, muscle, bone.
No birds flew.
No beasts stirred.
A traveling merchant passed him by on the trail without flinching.
Didn't even look twice.
Sun-Ho smiled faintly.
> That's what it means to walk unnoticed.
---
Nightfall – A Visitor in the Woods
That evening, as the moon crested above Dustcloud, Baek Sun-Ho heard movement beyond the outer path.
Crnch. Crnch.
He followed the sound—quiet as mist.
A masked man stood near the abandoned well, fingers tracing poison runes over a satchel. A spy, clearly—disguised as a trader.
Sun-Ho stepped into view.
"Dustcloud Sect isn't open for business tonight."
The man turned, startled. Eyes narrow, breath caught.
He lunged.
Shhhck!
A hidden blade flashed.
But Sun-Ho moved first.
A single palm strike—low, silent, unseen.
FTHMP.
The masked man dropped.
Unconscious.
Not a leaf disturbed.
---
Later – Reporting Back
Yeon So-Ri found him near the training hall, sitting calmly with tea.
"Was that… a fight?"
He nodded.
"Anyone see?"
"No."
She stared. "You knocked someone out in the woods, and no one heard?"
"No splash in the water," he said, sipping his tea.
Sip.
She grinned.
"I hate how cool that sounds."
---
Meanwhile – Far Away, High Walls
On the golden steps of the Southern Sky Pavilion, murmurs echoed.
"Someone attacked Dustcloud?"
"No. They disappeared."
"And the candidate?"
"Unharmed. Silent. Efficient."
A noble dressed in white leaned back, contemplative.
"…So the rumors are true."
---
On the Horizon – Another Footstep
Far beyond the range of mountains, a figure walked toward Dustcloud.
Wide hat. Iron staff. Eyes like burning glass.
The wind parted for him.
Even the dirt feared to cling to his sandals.
---
[End of Chapter 8]