The blood-point technique was effective. A hot sensation spread from the pressure points. It felt like my blood was heating up.
My unnoticed pulse enveloped my body, urging the blood forward. The heat flowing through my veins spread further, reaching every corner.
As I thought it might cook my entire body, my heart’s pounding surged, striking like a hammer.
The clear sound, now a part of my life, was drowned by the fierce heartbeat, fading into the distance.
“What’s your name?”
Suppressing the heat, I asked. The opponent hesitated briefly before answering boldly, likely thinking a pampered mad prince like me was no match for a single punch.
“I’m Jo Maryang.”
“How long have you been a warrior in Wolhanseong?”
“Almost four years.”
“You don’t look old, but that’s quite a while.”
I said as we moved to the open area. Jo Maryang followed, still cautiously sizing me up.
Then someone interrupted.
“Your Highness, Grand Prince.”
It was Heoseokgyeom. He’d been quiet but suddenly stepped between me and Jo Maryang, taking the center.
“My apologies, Your Highness. But this matter…”
His face was uneasy, like someone who hadn’t slept in days. His pale, terrified expression made me pause before responding.
“You don’t know how to apologize, yet you stir up trouble?”
Those who followed me from the capital—whatever their reasons—were seen as my subordinates here. If they were humiliated, it was only right to make it right.
But causing another issue for me to deal with? I couldn’t say Heoseokgyeom did well by clashing with Wolhanseong’s soldiers.
Heoseokgyeom bowed, then raised his head and said, “Since I caused this, let me take responsibility. Please allow it.”
I glanced at his pleading face, his hand on the sword hilt at his waist.
“No.”
Finally, Jungnangjang Heo knelt on the ground.
“Your Highness shouldn’t be involved in such trivial matters. I beg you, please retract your words and give me a chance to make amends!”
I’d never seen Heoseokgyeom so desperate. I hadn’t declared any punishment, so was this necessary? My resolve didn’t waver.
“No.”
Then Yu Geung rushed forward, blocking my path.
“My apologies.”
Yu Geung knelt beside Heoseokgyeom. Seeing two heads side by side nearly made me laugh.
“Please give me a chance to make amends for Your Highness’s sake.”
It wasn’t a laughing matter. Even a mad prince knows when to laugh and when not to.
“I beg you, Your Highness. I’m not worthy to ask for forgiveness, but I dare request a chance.”
It wasn’t just Yu Geung following Heoseokgyeom. Others began kneeling before me, one by one.
From Heoseokgyeom to Yu Geung, and the others showing their heads, I couldn’t help but chuckle.
Why are they going this far?
Is there a reason for this?
Is a prince wielding a sword such a big deal?
A mad prince who doesn’t dance with a blade is strange. Why wouldn’t a mad prince know swordplay?
I briefly imagined a mad prince rampaging with a sword before returning to reality.
“No.”
They gave up. Realizing they couldn’t stop me, they stepped back, but not out of resignation—more like they had no choice.
I faced Jo Maryang alone in the open area. I drew my sword first, and he followed.
Both of us held real blades.
The Lord of Wolhanseong spoke in a panicked tone, “It’s dangerous.”
I ignored her.
“Who strikes first?”
I asked Jo Maryang. He yielded without hesitation. Being a prince almost always lets you seize the first strike.
“Good. I’ll go first.”
No need to delay. I charged at Jo Maryang. No need for much force—he clearly thought I was an unworthy opponent.
My steps were light, like a taut bowstring ready to snap anywhere. I lunged, thrusting my sword—a straightforward strike even a novice could block. But it was a feint.
Jo Maryang’s eyes widened. I pulled back the effortless thrust, struck down his sword as he tried to block, and quickly spun mine.
“Take this!”
I aimed for his head.
Thud. Jo Maryang’s massive frame collapsed. His eyes rolled back, foam at his mouth. I hit his head, but no bones cracked, so he’d be fine. No mercy—this isn’t a game.
I slung my sword over my shoulder. The blade’s cold metal cooled the heat pleasantly.
I turned to Wolhanseong’s soldiers.
They looked stunned, no murmurs among them.
“Next.”
While observing the speechless soldiers, I spotted one staring at me, not at the fallen Jo Maryang. I pointed at him.
“What’s your name?”
The soldiers around him stepped back, isolating him. The man stepped forward.
“I’m Oh Choongeon.”
He didn’t avert his eyes—he wanted to face me. If I were a soldier, I wouldn’t pass up a chance to fight a prince one-on-one.
I nodded at Oh Choongeon.
“Come on.”
He stepped forward without a word.
“How long have you been a warrior?”
“After this month, six years. Five years as a Wolhanseong soldier.”
A bit more experience than Jo Maryang. I nodded, lowered my sword from my shoulder, and held it straight.
“Come here, Oh Warrior.”
Another soldier who moved without complaint. Despite my entourage being disrespected, his attitude was refreshing.
“Who strikes first?”
“Your Highness…”
I lunged before Oh Choongeon finished.
First clash. Clang, our swords met fiercely.
Second clash. Swoosh, his sword arced through the air. Before it completed a semicircle, my blade blocked its path.
Third clash.
“Urgh!”
Oh Choongeon rolled on the ground. My arms tingled. Knocking out a grown man in one strike wasn’t easy.
Back in the day, this would’ve been a piece of cake.
My chest pounded—not from effort or exhaustion, but from my blood reacting.
This proves I’m alive. I laughed like a madman.
Guess I’m suited to beating people up. Am I destined to roam battlefields until I die?
If that’s my life’s purpose, I’d accept it gladly.
I turned to the soldiers again. The atmosphere shifted from shock to curiosity.
“Next, anyone?”
Step. Amid the silence, footsteps. The one who approached had a sharper presence than the two I’d defeated.
I smiled unconsciously.
This is a challenge. What else could it be?
“What’s your name?”
“I’m Jo Soonyang.”
I glanced at Jo Maryang, dragged off and still out of it. Noticing my gaze, Jo Soonyang added, “He’s my brother.”
“Not here for personal revenge, I hope.”
I laughed.
“Please retract that. I have no such impure intentions.”
Jo Soonyang met my eyes.
“How could a subject dare intend harm to Your Highness?”
A challenging gaze—humorous yet thrilling. He saw our duel as just that, a duel.
A swordsman lives and dies by the sword.
I don’t know others’ paths, but mine was set from birth.
“Will you yield the first strike?”
“My apologies, but Your Highness has already won twice.”
“Go ahead.”
“I humbly take the first strike.”
Gasps rose around us, but it was a bold move. I laughed loudly.
“Good. Do it.”
Jo Soonyang raised his sword.
“How long have you been a warrior?”
“Seven and a half years as a Wolhanseong soldier.”
“I see.”
I nodded.
“My apologies.”
He charged. Similar in height to his brother Jo Maryang but bulkier, yet surprisingly agile.
In a real fight, not a spar, I’d have taken his head in one swing.
Against a fast opponent, that’s the only way.
I stepped back, then lunged as if diving into his chest, slashing.
His sword met mine, screeching a metallic scream.
My joints buzzed. The blood-point technique heightened my senses, including hearing. Feeling like my eardrums might bleed, I kicked Jo Soonyang.
“Well?”
“Not much of a fight.”
I taunted him, but the soldiers’ laughter responded instead.
Mocking their chuckles, I struck Jo Soonyang’s temple with the flat of my blade.
One soldier couldn’t hold back and blurted out, “Tch…”
I responded casually.
“What?”
Jo Soonyang, properly hit, staggered and collapsed. The ground shook from his bulk.
I turned to see the lord hiding her intrigue and the fifty-man leader staring at me.
I spoke to him.
“Next.”