Hwayeon stood in the center of the yurt, her fingers dancing over the blueprints of the ridge. She was buzzing. The stone quotas were high, the laborers were exhausted, but the walls were rising.
One of the village's problems was the inefficient use of Martial Artists. Once they built a protective perimeter, not only would they need to garrison fewer Martial Artists to protect their village—they could then send the more powerful ones on missions or for hunting, maximizing their gains.
Once the perimeter was secure, she could finally move to the next phase of her modernization plan: a centralized heat furnace to prevent frostbite, an efficient animal husbandry system for their woolly livestock, a central library and a public school.
And then eventually, all households will be self-sufficient and will be able to use their skills to earn their keep!
It's actually happening, she thought, a rare, genuine smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. I'm starting a kingdom that actually makes sense!
She was making something out of the legends she read late at night when the tutors weren't looking. She wanted to be the sovereign of her own story, a ruler of a wild, unrefined but equal frontier!
"I, NANOUK, HAVE RETURNED!"
Hwayeon stood up, her emerald eyes narrowing. Nanouk. The massive Squire she had defeated weeks ago because he refused to follow her orders for the village's prosperity. What's he up to now?
She stepped out into the freezing wind, pulling her icy "Sovereign" expression back over her face. She looked down at the villagers, then at the man standing beside Nanouk. He was wearing a demonic mask and a black dougi, but it was his hair that caught her eye.
What a thick, wild head of hair and a nice build! she thought, her pulse quickening.
He looked untamed and rough, like the hero Volak from "The Barbarian's Forbidden Vow."
It gave a rustic, masculine, country boy vibe... quite different from all those feminine, slender men back in Namgung.
...Exactly her type!
Yet her exterior remained ice, after all, a sovereign always needs to have a calm, dependable face.
"...You turned my home into a labor camp, Hwayeon! You have them breaking stone in a blizzard for a wall they never asked for!" Nanouk said.
Ugh... when I had arrived, everybody was freezing to death, doing nothing but eating fish and the occasional livestock! At least now there's a future! She yelled in her mind.
Hwayeon tilted her head, "They did not ask for it because they do not understand the value of a border. I am civilizing this ridge. Progress is often mistaken for cruelty by those with limited vision."
She finally fully addressed Merun, her gaze lingering on the demonic features of his mask. "And yet, instead of gratitude, you bring an outsider. A mercenary in a mask. Is this your answer to my generosity, Nanouk? To bring a monster to my doorstep?"
The masked man spoke. His voice was rasping, distorted by the mask. He talked about "too much control" and "chains."
What did he say? she thought, her pupils giving a micro-tremor. How dare he? Of all people, me? Controlling?
The whole reason why she ran away was because of control. Control over her studies, the way she ate, the way she talked, the way she lived... control over her martial arts.
There was simply too much "Order".
Had she been doing the same to these people? "Control," she repeated softly.
No, she's just doing what's best.
Once she's done, no child would ever starve or freeze to death in these cold lands.
Everyone will be safe within the walls, get educated and eventually be a skilled worker for society.
"You speak of things you do not comprehend. If they suffer now, it is so their children will not starve later. Change is always resisted by the short-sighted."
"Do you have the power to enforce it?" the masked man replied as he changed his stance, and emitted a heavy oppressive aura.
Pfft! Funny! A mere mercenary martial squire acting this way? Is this like how heroes get a random bandit attack like in the Novel, Brave Warband?
Before her servants could react, Hwayeon raised a single, porcelain-white hand.
"It is always the brutes who reject progress," she said, her voice regaining its metallic calm. "I am Hwayeon Yi. I have the strength to back my ideals."
Sigh. I guess it's important to raise morale by removing these usurpers... how could you do this Nanouk?
She turned to Nanouk, "I spared you once because I believed you were a man of honor who cared for his kin. To see you return like this... it is a profound disappointment. You would rather see your village remain a collection of tents in the wind than accept the gift of a future."
"We were never yours to fix, Hwayeon!" Nanouk replied.
Fool. The moment you lost, I own you. You are my number one asset in manpower.
"Then I suppose there is no more room for dialogue."
The masked man stared at her. Even through the slits of that mask, she could feel his gaze lingering on her face, tracing the lines of her skin. He was clearly mesmerized.
Hwayeon felt a sudden, hot flush creep up her neck. She was embarrassed, her face heating up despite the sub-zero wind.
What is this?! How insolent! Is he looking at me like that? Right in front of everyone? The vulgarity felt odd in her head. Back in her nation, no one would ever blatantly stare like that. People were much more politically aware and hid their true selves behind a mask due to how much "order" was law.
It reminded her of the illicit scrolls her maids smuggled into the palace back home. The "Uncensored Tales of the Silk Road" had been particularly educational.
The embarrassment turned into a sharp, defensive spike of adrenaline.
The man was about to speak when she launched herself at him, her first blow connecting with a raw power fueled by pure, awkward shame. She sent him whistling into the snowy forest.
"Shut it!" she screamed internally.
BOOOOM.
She followed him into the clearing, her mind racing. He seemed fine after the first hit, but he needed another!
CLANG
Her fist met with a powerful wall of steel, and she was on the losing end. Ugh! he practices the same technique as Nanouk? Did that brat Nanouk bring his master?
"Stop distracting me," the man appeared out of the rubble, he spat out blood but he was surprisingly okay for the most part!
What is he talking about?
It doesn't matter. She dodged an easily predictable strike and tapped him on the shoulder. Her technique 'Resonant Ripple' travelled through the masked man's shoulder and into his collarbone, damaging and numbing everything the vibration touched. Instead of dispersing energy on impact, she compresses it into a linear waveform—a needle of vibration that travels forward through connected matter.
It needed to fulfill three things to be effective: correct angle, correct timing, and correct structural pathway through the body. If aligned properly, the vibration travels deep before dissipating.
And unfortunately for the masked man, she was a prodigy.
The man's attacks were crude but incredibly fast and powerful. But it didn't matter if he couldn't touch his opponent. Her Martial Path, Random Order, is a path she painstakingly followed in secret while under the scrutiny of her family who valued order above all. Her martial style focused on erratic, unpredictable movements using a plethora of unorthodox footwork techniques and acrobatics. She drifted and leaned, trying to be the graceful, wild protagonist of her own story.
Things were going her way as she danced through all his strikes and bypassing his defense—she already knew how their technique operated based on her previous encounter with Nanouk: The user needed to consciously know where the strike would land before it would reflect damage. Unfortunately for them, her attacks were at random, with no pattern.
After a few one-sided exchanges, the man changed his strategy.
Now, he was always using the defensive technique! What brute force solution!
Let's see how long his stamina would last.
.
.
.
WHO ON EARTH IS THIS MAN?!
The masked man was a nightmare.
Every time she struck him, her bones rattled. Her knuckles were destroyed, the skin splitting across her fingers. Her shins and her legs were throbbing in pain.
Fuck! Fuck! This hurts! she cussed, her emerald eyes vibrating like a broken machine. How is he still keeping that technique active?!
She realized then that her Random Order was a luxury she couldn't afford. She was losing. Her pride, her plan, her walls—everything was at risk because her pride wanted to reject her nation's identity.
"You... who are you?" she demanded.
Her voice had lost that flat, metallic calm. It was sharp now, realizing that she was not just facing any random martial artist.
"If you surrender now, I'll tell," the man said, giving her a cheeky tilt of the head.
Her gaze shifted. She stopped seeing a "mysterious mercenary" and started seeing a hindrance. An enemy. The tiny attraction in her head died a quick, cold death.
How dare he act so carefree?
She shut her eyes, the air around her becoming a vacuum as she realized her Random Order was useless... and if she wanted to continue this life of a Sovereign, she needed to win this battle. When her eyes snapped open, the vibration was manic. She hated herself for not being strong enough to use the path she wanted... in the end, she needed to use the path her family wanted. She reverted back to the Path of Order.
What... an embarrassment.
DIE!
She disappeared. She reappeared behind his shoulder, but she wasn't using her palms anymore. Her arms turned into high-speed needles. Her footwork changed into an offensive-evasive hybrid, sticking close to her opponent like a shadow. She abandoned the "beautiful" flow and went for the kill, thrusting into his armpits, his throat, and the microscopic gaps in his stance.
Her emerald eyes focused as the tiniest of weak points revealed itself in plain view in front of her. This was the path of Order.
DIE! DIE! DIE!
She smothered him, her face inches from his mask, her breath ragged. She was carving him apart, her mind a stream of Order-drilled precision and the humiliation of relying on Order to win.
He was unable to reach her as she smothered him with a thousand thrusts.
Each thrust hit a critical point. The most dangerous ones were located near arteries, which slowly weakened and killing the opponent through blood loss.
The battle immediately shifted in her favor... until he unleashed a thick, slimy feeling of bloodlust that slowly crawled and choked her neck. It hit her like a physical weight, freezing her soul for one terrifying second.
"!!!!!!!"
BOOOOM.
The hammer-smash crushed her shoulder, and she hit the dirt so hard the world turned white.
GASP.
I... got hit?!
She charged back up, she saw him standing there but his wounds were gone. He somehow stopped the bleeding everywhere in the time it took her to stand up.
"Bleeding has stopped?" she whispered, her voice cracking.
She stared at him, her emerald eyes trembling. Who was this monster? It's impossible! No Martial Squire could ever beat her! Not her!
While she was dealing with inner turmoil, the man seemed to have failed a technique.
"Ehem... Can you try making me mad?" he muttered.
Hwayeon's brow furrowed, her bruised fingers twitching at her sides.
What the fuck is he babbling about? she thought, her knuckles throbbing with a pain that made her want to scream every swear word ever written on a scroll.
"Round two?" he asked.
Hwayeon bared her teeth, her pride refusing to let her buckle.
"COME!" she hissed, her green eyes shimmering with wrath.
She'd never felt this angry before.
She'd never felt so humiliated before.
She'd never felt so stupid for running away from home.
BADUMP.