Chapter 99

Dang Ran-yeong's sword wasn't as fast as Cheong-ra's. Nevertheless, Cheong-ra was barely able to block his opponent's dagger. Though not particularly fast, the attacks were hard to see. When he thought it was aiming for his shoulder, the dagger suddenly touched his side, and when he thought it was slashing down his thigh, the dagger's trajectory changed instantly to thrust at his lower abdomen.

There were no direct hits to his body. But every time the flashing dagger, filled with killing intent, touched a vital point, his heart chilled. Before he knew it, cold sweat had formed on his forehead.

"Seven, eight, nine."

The dagger path that drew a large arc touched Cheong-ra's nape. His skin stung. The tip of the dagger touched under his chin. It was a trajectory that could pierce through his head. The dagger slipped between his armpits. If it were to slash upwards, he would lose the use of his arm. That's why Cheong-ra only belatedly realized that Dang Ran-yeong was quietly counting.

"Eleven, fifteen."

He was counting each time his dagger touched Cheong-ra's vital points. The number increased every time Dang Ran-yeong could have taken Cheong-ra's life.

"...Ninety-nine, one hundred."

By the time that number reached a hundred, Cheong-ra was drenched in cold sweat. It was because each of those hundred moments had been filled with killing intent.

The afterimages of a hundred flickering deaths were cast over his entire body.

Though he hadn't been hit, his mind was so dazed that Cheong-ra finally fell to one knee. He could barely feel his fingers tightly gripping the sword. His stomach churned and he felt nauseous, just like when he had been on the ship on the Yellow River.

As Dang Ran-yeong approached with light footsteps, a dark shadow fell over Cheong-ra's head. Even the simple act of raising his head to look up was difficult. Dang Ran-yeong laughed long in the dark shadow, backlit by the sun.

"Shall we repeat it? Until you can cut the hundred in half."

Taking a deep breath, Cheong-ra gritted his teeth and forced his body to stand. It was an excruciatingly painful sparring session, but he was experienced in enduring pain. After regulating his breathing for a few moments, Dang Ran-yeong's attacks resumed.

The subtleties of the illusion swordsmanship his opponent used were flawless, without any openings. In the second round of sparring, Cheong-ra had to expose his vital points to all hundred attacks. Every spot where the dagger tip had touched stung. But no blood flowed. This was only possible because the other's skill was so perfectly superior.

However, with each clash of sword and dagger, Cheong-ra could vaguely sense what Dang Ran-yeong was trying to teach him.

In the third round of sparring, he was finally able to defend against a few attacks. As he struggled to receive his opponent's attacks, he gradually learned through his eyes and body how to handle illusion swordsmanship, just as the other had said.

As Dang Ran-yeong had said, speed wasn't important. What mattered was how exquisitely one could link and change from one technique to another, from one sword path to another, from one sword form to another. Hiding the true intention of attack, concealing real attacks within feints and feints within real attacks. He physically grasped what he had only known intellectually before.

How many fierce killing blows had he endured?

By the time he had finally managed to cut the number in half, the sun was already setting. Hot, panting breaths rose to the tip of his chin. Wi Je-ho, who had been quietly watching the entire sparring session, clicked his tongue. Unlike Cheong-ra, who was completely exhausted, Dang Ran-yeong showed no signs of fatigue.

"Young Master Baek... how did you end up so fixated on by such a guy?"

Though there were no severe injuries, both his body and mind seemed ragged from the intense sparring. Despite having no wounds, the countless vital points where the blade and dagger tip had touched ached, and he finally collapsed completely on the spot. Now he truly couldn't get up even if threatened with death.

Feeling pity for Cheong-ra, Wi Je-ho brought him some water. He barely managed to reach out with trembling hands to drink it, and only then did he feel like he might live. Wi Je-ho, looking at Dang Ran-yeong with a strange gaze, firmly gripped Cheong-ra's shoulder once and whispered softly,

"Still, it'll be hard to see Young Master Baek die now. That's fortunate."

Before he could ask what that meant, Wi Je-ho left, saying the show was over. Cheong-ra simply thought he had said it because his skills had improved. It was the first time he had been pushed so hard in sparring, so he didn't have the energy for deeper thoughts.

"Ha, haa..."

He barely caught his breath, grasping onto his consciousness that felt like it might fly away at any moment. He could feel that his skills had definitely improved as his understanding of illusion swordsmanship increased. But he never wanted to have such a grueling sparring session again.

'I sweated too much...'

His whole body felt unpleasantly damp, dirty, and uncomfortable due to the sweat. He imagined he must look terribly unsightly. As Cheong-ra was regulating his breath with his head down, his body heaved. Soon, unable to hold back the nausea from fear, tension, and excessive physical exertion, he vomited.

Cheong-ra flinched as Dang Ran-yeong approached. He didn't want to show such a filthy state. When Dang Ran-yeong placed his hand on his body, Cheong-ra tried to avoid it even while retching. Dang Ran-yeong, ignoring this, grabbed his shoulder to hold him in place and tapped a couple of acupoints. This calmed his stomach and somewhat restored his strength.

Cheong-ra desperately tried to cover the traces of his vomit with dirt while suppressing his nausea. He really didn't want to show this side of himself, but he was physically at his limit and couldn't help it. As another wave of nausea rose, he staggered to his feet, trying to go somewhere out of sight, but Dang Ran-yeong's hand was still firmly pressing down on his shoulder.

"Let... go..."

He shook his arm, refusing in a weak voice. After throwing up, he wanted to go somewhere to lie down and rest quietly. It was then that Dang Ran-yeong's foot slipped between his legs. Cheong-ra raised his head abruptly, covering his mouth with his sleeve.

The tip of the shoe that had slipped between his inner thighs pressed firmly against his groin. Then, after rubbing upwards, Dang Ran-yeong said in an amused voice,

"Lewd Beauty... what a pervert."

Cheong-ra's body trembled. Yes. Throughout being pushed to his limits, feeling sensations similar to death hundreds of times from Dang Ran-yeong, he had been aroused. If not for the ties binding his lower garments, it would have been obvious long ago. A red tinge spread across his face, which had been pale white. Under his sleeve, Cheong-ra bit his lip hard.

"Did you enjoy the sparring that much? You didn't come, did you?"

Dang Ran-yeong mocked, pressing and releasing with his foot. Cheong-ra couldn't bring himself to respond to those words. He felt a shameful desire to hide somewhere, coexisting with a base desire to ask the other to push him more.

All he could do was glare at Dang Ran-yeong with all his might. After chewing his lips, Cheong-ra snapped,

"Why? It's not like you didn't enjoy it too."

At those words, the smile faded slightly from Dang Ran-yeong's face. He bent down and caught Cheong-ra's wrist. He forcibly pressed it against his own groin. Then, as Cheong-ra startled at the hard, heavy thing touching his palm, Dang Ran-yeong spoke into his ear,

"I really like how perceptive Beauty is..."

His voice was so low that it sent chills down Cheong-ra's spine, leaving him unable to move. He finally came to his senses and struggled.

"Wh-what... Let this go!"

He writhed, trying hard to pull his arm away. But the grip pressing down was too powerful. Cheong-ra's face turned bright red as he clearly felt the contours of the heavy manhood in his palm. Dang Ran-yeong forced Cheong-ra's hand to curl and made him fondle his member while groaning. The corners of his eyes curved into long arcs.

"Haa, Beauty..."

"Ah, nngh..."

Dang Ran-yeong's moan was so lewd that Cheong-ra felt his mind slipping away. He could no longer resist and just trembled. Dang Ran-yeong, who had blatantly rubbed his aroused member, chuckled.

Then he gripped Cheong-ra's hand even more tightly. A scorching heat touched him even through the fabric. The thick glans and shaft twitched, and soon the cloth became hot and damp. He had ejaculated just like that.

Cheong-ra's face turned ashen. Dang Ran-yeong pressed his lips close to Cheong-ra's red-hot ear and spoke. The movement of his lips was vivid.

"I came for you, Beauty. Are you satisfied? This way, I enjoyed it together with you."

His low voice, drenched in excitement, resonated in Cheong-ra's ear...

He couldn't believe they were doing this in broad daylight. Truly, was he a man who knew no shame?