The Romance of the Three Kingdoms: Lu Bu is good at being filial

Chapter 42

＜ The One Who Flies (3) ＞

First strike, guaranteed victory.

It is always advantageous to strike first.

A single blow, a fatal strike.

If you can kill your opponent with the first attack, the match is over.

Of course, there are ways to counter the enemy’s attack or to defend while looking for an opening.

But if you allow the opponent to strike first three times in a row, it’s clear that you’re starting at a disadvantage.

Anyone who has played Go knows.

How great the pressure is when the opponent starts with three stones laid down.

Starting with the three most crucial points on the board already occupied.

You have no choice but to place your first stone in the remaining area, but the moment you do, the opponent’s attack begins.

In the end, allowing the first strike means you will be continually on the defensive.

Yet, to concede the first strike three times to the opponent—

“I will go!”

Is because you are confident in your skills.

Boo-woong!

A thrust aimed at my shoulder.

Swinging the large mitamdo from above, it seems as if the blade will slice through my arm.

‘I see it.’

Kaaang!

I deflect it with a hua-geuk.

‘As expected.’

Strong enough to claim the title of the best in Yangju, but not to the point where I can’t block it.

Thus, the opponent is not one to retreat after a single attack is thwarted.

“Hmm!”

As soon as the blade of the mitamdo flows sideways, I immediately retrieve my spear.

As if anticipating that the first attack wouldn’t land, the transition to the next strike is smooth and swift.

Distance.

If the first strike was a downward slash from above, this time it’s a nearly horizontal spinning cut.

“Hwaaah!!”

With a large turn of the body, as if to fell a great tree, the blade of the mitamdo flies horizontally in the opposite direction of where I had blocked.

Retrieve the hua-geuk to defend?

A bit slow.

If it’s hard to counter with a weapon, then just dodging is enough.

Boo-woong!

I lean my upper body back sharply.

Lowering myself to the point of almost falling backward, the blade that aimed for my shoulder slices through the air instead.

A mere sheet of paper apart.

A few strands of my bangs flutter as they rise.

“Y-You…!!”

Our gazes meet for a moment.

‘I let it slide once.’

As I flick my fingers gripping the Hwa-geuk, Hwa-ung’s expression distorts.

“Graaah!!”

With a roar, he forcibly halts his attack.

Someone had tried to turn their body once more with inertia to strike, but unlike them, Hwa-ung stops his attack mid-air and aims directly at me.

“Now!”

Three strikes, a thrust.

Like spearing a fish with a harpoon, he aims to pierce me precisely as my body descends.

Dodging in this unsteady position is impossible.

‘If you thought that, then you’ll have to dodge once more.’

I can’t twist away.

Instead, I’ve already planted the Hwa-geuk into the ground.

“Ha!”

Kwaaak.

I grip the Hwa-geuk, embedded in the ground, like a staff with all my strength.

At the same time, I kick off the ground and leap backward as if rolling.

Sruuk!

A blade sweeps past my eyes.

Maybe it’s because he usually maintains his weapons well, but even in this dust, the edge of the blade is clearly visible.

“What?!”

Hwa-ung is taken aback.

It must be so.

At a glance, I would be dodging attacks as if throwing my body back while letting go of my weapon.

But that’s the perspective of my opponent, Hwaung.

Right now, I am gripping Hwaguk with my hand, lifting my body sideways.

To be precise, I kicked off the ground and propelled myself upward, using Hwaguk to support my ascent, then braced myself with sheer strength to evade the thrust of the Mijeomdo that pierced the air beside me.

‘I did well to drive it in firmly.’

There was no issue with the strength in my arms.

Dodging attacks during the actual combat posed no problem either.

If there was something to worry about, it was that Hwaguk might not be able to support my weight and strength, causing it to slip from the ground.

Fortunately, thanks to how firmly I had driven it in, my body neither collapsed nor slipped.

“Three times, done.”

I immediately planted my feet on the ground and withdrew Hwaguk.

The method of dodging the third attack was closer to skill or technique than martial arts, but that was an unavoidable aspect.

‘If I had countered, it would have been over.’

There were easier ways to block.

There were more certain ways to win.

But I had to evade that attack, almost by force.

‘The principles of the martial world must be upheld.’

While countering and immediately launching a counterattack would have been a more stable posture, I had promised to allow three attacks.

At least in a duel between martial artists, one does not speak with a forked tongue.

Whether it be the righteous or the demonic sect, how could a master aiming for the title of the world’s best cheat in a duel!

“Then, since the three initial attacks have concluded, may I attack now?”

“You scoundrel!!”

Flustered, Hwaung attempted to continue his assault, but the tip of Hwaguk had already been drawn from the ground.

“Hu-uh!”

With a single, powerful swing, I struck the Mijeomdo.

Though shorter than the distance Hwaung had swung, I gripped Hwaguk tightly and twisted my foot.

“Ku-ugh?!”

“I said I would attack. From now on, brace yourself.”

Kkadeudeudeuk!!

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“Your turn.”

A struggle with blades locked.

It’s not just about pushing the weapon away with upper body strength alone.

“Ugh, what strength…!”

The upper body absorbs the enemy’s force, while the lower body channels that force into the ground through the feet, maintaining balance.

“A struggle? Sounds good.”

Whichever side falters first is the loser.

Victory or defeat lies in the state of the body honed through training.

“Ugh, argh…!!”

It seems balanced, but Hwa-ung’s expression begins to twist gradually.

Thud.

One step forward.

Hwa-ung tries to step back but forces his feet to twist and stands firm.

Thud.

Another step forward.

The blades locked between Mi-cheom-do and Hwa-geuk rise, closing the distance with Hwa-ung.

“I’ve never heard of fighting like this…!!”

Hwa-ung grits his teeth and laughs.

“Like this? What have you heard?”

“Immovable! Counterattack!”

As Hwa-geuk channels strength into Mi-cheom-do, pressing down with sheer force, veins pop on Hwa-ung’s forehead, and his face turns red.

“They say that Leopo likes to fight while taking the opponent’s attacks…!”

“Hmm. You’ve misunderstood.”

With a strong push forward, he drives Hwa-geuk back.

“It’s not that I like it; it’s a choice I have to make.”

“Ugh?!”

Hwa-ung pulls back significantly, wielding Mi-cheom-do.

“Whether it’s a spar or a duel, there’s always a reason for standing still and taking the enemy’s attacks.”

He leaps forward powerfully.

“Do I enjoy countering? No. There’s no way I would like to be attacked unilaterally.”

Switching Gears.

“I prefer attacking.”

The first target is the head.

I grip the spear tightly, extending it upward, then bring it down vertically.

“Ugh!”

Hwa-ung leans back sharply, dodging the thrust aimed at him.

“You like counterattacks? That’s not it either.”

I anticipated the dodge.

“Is it because not moving disregards the enemy? That’s not it either.”

I grip the spear tightly to halt its downward motion, then twist my hand around the shaft, wrapping it.

“Only attacking. That’s my favorite saying.”

I thrust the spear forward.

As soon as it’s blocked, I retract it immediately, quickly stabbing alternately at his face, shoulder, and heart.

“Repeatedly slashing and stabbing until the enemy falls. What an easy way to win, isn’t it?”

Clang, clang, clang!

Hwa-ung jumps back again, swinging his sword to deflect my spear.

“Each attack is a lethal strike. If you can’t take it, then that’s the end.”

The distance is quite wide, making it hard to close in, but with each thrust, I step forward decisively.

“You’re blocking better than I expected.”

“Ugh…!!”

The distance narrows little by little.

He continues to swing his sword to block the spear’s tip, but the radius of his swings is gradually shrinking.

“Haah!”

Hwa-ung raises his sword above his head and swings it down at me.

“…!”

Going beyond just swinging, he attempts to drive the sword into the ground.

What to do?

I slightly evade the attack, stepping on the sword and aiming to slice his neck—

‘This is a spar.’

Calm down, I leap back, spinning the spear like a windmill.

Boom!

Dust and debris clash with the force of the impact, creating a distance of more than five steps.

Crash—!!

“Haah, haah, haah.”

Hwa-ung breathes heavily, his breaths ragged.

His blade of intent only struck the ground, not me.

The ground is not only deeply scarred by the blade’s mark, but the surrounding dust is scattered by the shockwave.

‘If he strikes once more, it’ll crack wide open.’

If this wasn’t an attack meant to catch his breath, the ground would surely have split apart from the shockwave.

Even the dust and gravel that bounced off the shockwave couldn’t land a hit on me.

“…You moved more against me than you did against the previous warriors.”

“Indeed.”

“You’re just flying around like a madman.”

Hwa-ung’s eyes blaze with intensity.

“What’s the reason?”

There’s a hint of grievance in his gaze.

In truth, I was moving far beyond the small circle I had when facing the previous warriors.

“Could it be that you think I can take all your attacks?”

He’s losing his temper.

Why is he unleashing such a frenzied assault on me alone?

“Are you saying you held back because you thought the previous warriors would die if they took your hits?”

Why did he only strike the earlier warriors three times to bring them down, yet he’s already thrusting at me over a dozen times?

“I am not a training toy you can play with at your whim!!”

Ignoring the fallen Ho-jin and treating me as a worthy opponent to wield his power against.

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

Hwa-ung roars.

“There’s a limit to how much you can disregard people, to us!! Give it your all, Yeopo!!”

It’s only natural for him to feel that he and his comrades have been disrespected.

“I have never disregarded you. There has never been a time I didn’t give my all.”

“Was that really your all?”

“The tiger hunts with all its might, no matter the prey. I have fought with all my strength until now.”

With all my power, I did my best to knock the enemy down in a single blow.

“I just moved less for personal reasons.”

“Personal reasons?”

“When fighting the enemy on the battlefield, one inevitably gets drenched in blood.”

“??”

It makes no sense for blood not to splatter at the moment of murder.

“Whether you kill one person or a hundred, after fighting on the battlefield, you have no choice but to wash up. Blood is bound to get on you.”

“…Huh?”

Hwa-ung’s face contorts.

“What on earth are you talking about…?”

“It may be hard to understand. From the start, you won’t be able to grasp it.”

Unlike the war where one must inevitably be soaked in blood and sweat, this sparring is just sparring, isn’t it?

‘How uncomfortable it is to sweat and not be able to wash it off.’

You could just stand still and counter appropriately to win, so why go through the trouble of sweating and running around, swinging your weapon dozens of times?

If it’s a battlefield where you have to get drenched in blood, that’s one thing, but in a training ground, I have no desire to be soaked in sweat.

That’s right.

To be honest.

‘I don’t want to sweat buckets in a place where I can’t wash up.’

If I were to fight with all my strength against a warrior like Hwa-ung, sweating would be inevitable.

In fact, even right now, isn’t there a bit of sweat trickling down my back?

“A hundred words are not as good as seeing once.”

“……!!”

“If you are a martial artist, you will understand the intent contained in the unmoving blade.”

If one is a martial artist of that caliber, they can discern the meaning behind the opponent’s attack by clashing blades.

Thus, there will be no misunderstanding.

That I am fighting with all my might right now.

‘Even Jang Ryo understood.’

Jang Ryo said this.

– General, don’t swing your sword around carelessly. Is it because you don’t want to sweat that you keep doing this? You can wash up afterward anyway, so how long do you plan to keep dodging and countering? Move your body a bit, aaah?!

…Of course, Zhang Liao knows the difference between when he washes and when he doesn’t.

“And to begin with, do you really think I’m holding back while fighting you right now?”

“……!!”

“Not at all.”

I have never held back.

“I am moving with even more intensity than usual.”

In a place where there was no way to wash, I tried not to sweat, but now I have found a place to clean myself.

“If you are misunderstanding this moment, thinking that my relentless assault means I am giving it my all…”

If you believe that fighting while drenched in sweat is my best effort…

“I will grant your wish. I will do my utmost to bring you down.”

There is no greater bliss than sweating profusely and pouring clean water over myself to wash away the grime.

“Can you withstand my full power?”

“……Kuhahaha!!”

Hwa-ung lifts his head and bursts into laughter.

“Your arrogance has gone beyond the heavens; you’re practically flying in the sky! It’s utterly ridiculous!”

His eyes gleam with a fierce light, as if he has realized something, or perhaps gained some strange insight.

“Oh, indeed!! Today, this old man will turn you into a bloody mess!”

It’s not a provocation.

It seems he has misunderstood me entirely.

It doesn’t matter.

After all—

“Hwaah…!!”

“……!”

Hwa-ung lets out a fierce shout, and the veins in his body begin to bulge.

“That’s…!”

* * *

[One moment earlier.]

“General. We… have lost.”

“We’ve lost?! We’ve lost everything!!”

When Dong Zhuo, who had come unarmed, first heard the report from Li Yu.

“That could be the case. If it’s Lu Bu.”

It was the flow I had anticipated, so I didn’t find it particularly strange.

“Have you drained some of his strength?”

“Unfortunately, that’s not the case.”

“Tsk. Those so-called warriors…”

From the beginning, this plan was to use a chariot, drawing out Lu Bu’s strength as much as possible, allowing Hua Yong to claim the final victory.

“Tell me. How strong do you think Hua Yong is?”

“Th-that is… I’m not quite sure…”

“I was as strong as Hua Yong about ten, no, twenty years ago.”

Hua Yong resembled his younger self.

“Though I may have a bit more muscle on my thighs now and some age showing on my belly, I was once a fierce general who swept away the Yellow Turbans and rebels.”

“Y-yes, that’s true.”

Li Yu glanced around nervously, but Dong Zhuo did not notice the unease in his demeanor.

“Hua Yong is the strongest warrior in ‘our army.’ If Hua Yong cannot win, then no one can defeat Lu Bu.”

“…….”

“If he wins, it will break Lu Bu’s momentum. At the very least, if we can stop the Bingzhou army from crossing the Yellow River, then this Luoyang will belong to Dong Zhuo.”

Dong Zhuo did not hide his true colors even in front of Cao Cao, who was following behind with his soldiers.

“But what is that over there?”

Dong Zhuo looked.

“Hua Yong is being pushed back.”

“…I don’t understand.”

Dong Zhuo could see it.

Li Yu, not being a martial artist, could not keep up with the speed, but Dong Zhuo’s body may have rusted, but his eyes had not.

“What is this?”

Hua Yong was being overwhelmed.

With every blink, Mi Chen and Hua Ke clashed three times.

A storm-like flurry of strikes.

“Li Yu. What do you see?”

“…It seems I can only see black silk fluttering.”

“Yes. That would be the case.”

Dong Zhuo can see it.

The one-sided assault against Hua Yong.

The trajectory of Hua Ge, extending as far as the fluttering hair of Lü Bu.

Every time the sunlight glints off Hua Ge’s crescent blade, that bright light bursts forth.

“…….”

If it were twenty years ago, could I have faced Lü Bu as well as Hua Yong does?

Though I cannot confront him directly now, I can understand indirectly through Hua Yong.

“……If only Ikkak and Gwak Sa were not here, could I somehow hide my past…?”

“Yes, General?”

“……No. Forget you heard that.”

Dong Zhuo suppressed the words that almost followed the ones he had unconsciously let slip.

To possess Lü Bu, he would have to abandon all his subordinates.

He must cast away all the bloodshed and various impurities that have seeped into his body, escaping the indulgence of flesh and live a life of chewing on greens.

That is akin to asking a carnivorous beast to survive on grass for the rest of its life.

“…It would be quicker to let him indulge in pleasures instead.”

He cannot give up.

His ambitions, his desires, and Lü Bu.

“Yes, General. Still, Hua Yong is still formidable… Huh!”

Li You is startled.

Overwhelmed by the aura emanating from Hua Yong, Li You falls back in surprise.

“Is he using that?”

Dong Zhuo clenched his fist tightly.

“Yes. If he uses that… he can surely win.”

He never engages in a fight without a chance of victory.

Dong Zhuo has reached the position of Grand Commandant because he has won so many times.

Burning his life away.

Hua Yong is the same.

“Ahhh—!!”

“If you wish to win, you must stake your life.”

If one cannot win even by risking their life…

“…What should I do then…?”

* * *

Blood boils.

Veins bulge, writhing begins, and muscles swell.

“Ugh, Kraaah…!!”

This is not my story, but Hwa-ung’s.

Before my eyes, the haze rising from Hwa-ung’s body is surely not an illusion.

The past.

The phenomenon I often witnessed when facing the so-called ‘barbarians’ like the Xiongnu and the Silla invading Byeongju is now evident in Hwa-ung.

What they did just before dying, their last desperate struggle, is unfolding right before me.

‘He’s on something.’

It’s not a strange implication.

He must have bitten down on something hidden in his mouth.

‘He’ll be suffering for a few days.’

Hwa-ung is now strengthening himself by destroying his own body to defeat me.

Accelerating his blood flow and dulling his pain, he becomes a tool through which he can grow stronger.

‘It’s the secret drug of a foreign race.’

I have a rough idea of its origin.

It’s the foreign tribes that primarily used that substance.

Though the Silla tribe often appears in Yangju, Yangju is close to the Gang tribe to the west.

“Kraaah…!!”

Whether it’s a plant-based drug obtained from them or something they developed themselves, the power of the drug allows one to become momentarily stronger like that.

As if using ‘demonic power.’

‘Still, is it a relief?’

It’s not to the extent of having eyes turned inside out like that monstrous being I faced ten years ago.

‘Back then, I really thought I was going to die.’

It was then that I first understood what it meant for a person’s eyes to turn red.

If celestial demons truly exist, they would be just like that, a crisis that ranks among the top three in my life.

“I will definitely defeat you!”

And now?

‘It’s not that much.’

Hwa-woong is strong.

But Hwa-woong, relying on the power of the drug, isn’t that strong.

Boom—woong!!

The attack is fierce.

I quickly dodge and create some distance.

Fierce it may be, but it lacks sharpness.

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Why?! Do you also say this is unjust?!”

“No.”

To be honest, one could argue about injustice endlessly.

“How can it be unjust for the weak to use tools to overcome the strong?”

I understand the will to try anything to win.

“What’s disappointing is that, even though it’s difficult, you chose the easier and quicker path to lose rather than the possibility of winning.”

Because of the desire to win, it seems he has forgotten that his true strength lies not in his appearance but in his graceful spear technique.

“Graaah! You b*stard!!”

Hwa-woong charges at me.

Turo becomes increasingly clumsy and rough.

The trajectory of the spear, no longer aligned like neatly arranged eyebrows, twists grotesquely like a bandit’s beard.

“Traditionally, in martial arts—”

“Shut up!!”

Before I can even respond, he brandishes the spear at me, veins bulging as if they might burst.

“This too is my skill!!”

“Ha.”

If he has no intention of heeding advice, then there’s no choice but to thoroughly break him.

Planting my lower body firmly on the ground, I swing Hwa-geuk over my shoulder, no, over the back of my neck.

“Hwaah!!”

Hwa-woong leaps forward, swinging the spear wide.

Unable to suppress his bloodlust, he tries to cut me with the very distortion of that bloodlust infused in the spear.

The madness for victory seeping from his veins clings to the spear, almost like a crimson electric shock bursting forth.

Avoid and counterattack?

Look for an opening and launch a counteroffensive?

No.

‘Shatter it head-on.’

Like breathing life into the entire sword of flames held tightly, I envision the future I will create against Hwa-ung.

Left shoulder.

Draw it down hard.

The blade’s destination is the right thigh.

I can see the bloody trajectory aiming to slice diagonally.

So vividly.

As the blade of the Mijeomdo aligns with its path, I strike Hwa-kyung vertically where that slanted blade’s trajectory lands.

Bounce back from a test of strength?

Not at all.

Swoosh!

I cleave through.

I slice through the Mijeomdo’s blade entirely.

“Ha ha! It’s over, Yeopoh—”

“Over?”

Hwa-ung’s bloodshot eyes, intoxicated by rage, failed to notice in that moment that Hwa-kyung’s blade had passed through the Mijeomdo.

“Who’s finished?”

“What—”

Boom!

Only after a part of the severed blade grazed my ear did Hwa-ung’s smile falter.

“Use medicine only on the battlefield where retreat is impossible or just before death.”

As I let the blade of Hwa-kyung drop, I plunge inward and swing one hand back dramatically.

“In a martial arts match, let it be as it should.”

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The hand I swung back is already clenched into a fist.

“Next time, let’s test our martial skills.”

“!!”

The moment Hwa-ung’s eyes widen.

The Right Fist.

The fist, extending on a precise trajectory, struck the solar plexus.

“…….”

Puh-uck.

Hwa-ung’s movements came to an abrupt halt.

The hand that had been swinging the sword mid-motion.

The breath that had been caught in the moment of impact.

And the bloodlust that had been surging through his entire body.

“……How did you become this strong?”

Barely able to catch his breath, Hwa-ung asked me, as if in pain.

“What has made you so powerful?”

“Because I have lived each moment to the fullest.”

“To the fullest.”

Hwa-ung closed his eyes.

“Is that all?”

“Is that all? No.”

I lowered my fist.

“That is everything.”

The fist that had crumpled the armor was now dripping with blood.

At the tip of my fist, it seemed the metal shavings that had fallen from Hwa-ung’s breastplate were glimmering.

“I have always lived fiercely. So that I would not be ashamed before my father, who looks down upon me from the heavens.”

“…….”

“You too have done your best.”

With my blood-soaked hand, I lightly patted Hwa-ung’s shoulder.

“It’s just that, leading up to today’s duel, I have lived a bit more fiercely. So that I could always fight in my best condition.”

“…Is that so.”

Hwa-ung knelt down.

“Always… to the fullest….”

Crimson blood trickled down from his lips.

“Ready, at all costs.”

I fall forward just like that.

Ku-woong.

With the heavy armor, Hwa-ung collapsed.

“Ha.”

The wind blows.

“Refreshing.”

My whole body is drenched in sweat, but I feel as if I could soar through the sky like a bird cutting through the sun.

“It was a good duel.”

The strongest of Byeongju, that’s me.

Defeated the strongest of Sayu, Seo-hwang.

Defeated the strongest of Yangju, Hwa-ung.

The thirteen provinces of the world.

To be the best in the world, just ten steps ahead.

＜ The One Who Flies in the Sky (3) ＞ End