Yeon-ah stood at the edge of the clearing, the cold wind biting at her skin as she gripped the hilt of her blade. Her heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and determination surging through her veins. The woman—her mentor—stood across from her, her eyes sharp and unyielding.
"Show me what you've learned," the woman said, her voice cold and commanding.
Yeon-ah swallowed hard, her hands trembling slightly as she tightened her grip on the blade. She had been practicing for days, honing her skills, pushing her body to its limits. But this was different. This wasn't practice. This was her first real test.
The woman didn't move, her stance calm and collected. It was almost unnerving how still she was, as if she had all the time in the world.
Yeon-ah took a deep breath, her mind racing with everything she had learned. Footwork, precision, control. It all had to come together now. There was no room for mistakes.
With a sudden burst of energy, she lunged forward, her blade slicing through the air with precision. She aimed for the woman's side, hoping to catch her off guard.
But the woman moved like a shadow, her body twisting effortlessly out of the way. Before Yeon-ah could react, she felt the cold sting of metal against her neck. The woman's blade was there, pressing lightly against her skin.
"Too slow," the woman said, her voice devoid of emotion.
Yeon-ah's heart sank, the weight of her failure crashing down on her. She had known the woman was fast, but this... this was something else.
The blade withdrew, and the woman stepped back, her eyes never leaving Yeon-ah. "Again."
Yeon-ah gritted her teeth, frustration bubbling up inside her. She couldn't afford to be reckless, but she also couldn't afford to hesitate. She had to find the balance—the precision that her mentor had been drilling into her.
Taking a deep breath, she centered herself, her mind focusing on the task at hand. She couldn't think about the woman's strength, her speed. She had to trust herself, trust her own instincts.
This time, she moved more cautiously, circling around the woman, searching for an opening. Her blade felt heavy in her hands, the weight of the challenge pressing down on her.
The woman watched her silently, her movements minimal but deliberate. It was as if she was waiting, daring Yeon-ah to make the first mistake.
Yeon-ah shifted her stance, feinting to the right before quickly darting to the left. She brought her blade down in a swift arc, aiming for the woman's shoulder.
But once again, the woman was faster. She sidestepped the attack, her blade flashing in the dim light as she deflected Yeon-ah's strike with ease.
"You're thinking too much," the woman said, her voice cutting through the silence. "You're hesitating."
Yeon-ah stumbled back, her frustration boiling over. She knew the woman was right. She was overthinking every move, doubting herself before she even struck. But how could she not? The woman was so far beyond her, so much stronger, faster, better.
"You'll never win if you keep second-guessing yourself," the woman continued, her tone harsh. "In a real fight, hesitation will get you killed."
Yeon-ah clenched her fists, her knuckles white against the hilt of her blade. She wanted to scream, to shout that she was trying, that she was doing her best. But she knew that wouldn't matter. The woman didn't care about effort. She cared about results.
"Again."
Yeon-ah took a deep breath, her chest heaving with the effort of controlling her emotions. She couldn't afford to let her frustration get the best of her. Not now. Not here.
She steadied herself, her mind clearing as she focused on the woman before her. This time, she wouldn't hesitate. This time, she would trust her instincts.
With a sudden burst of speed, Yeon-ah moved, her blade slicing through the air with precision. She didn't think—she just acted, letting her body guide her.
The woman's eyes flickered with something—surprise, perhaps—as Yeon-ah's blade came dangerously close to her side. But just as quickly, the woman deflected the strike, her movements fluid and effortless.
Yeon-ah didn't stop. She pressed forward, her strikes coming faster, more aggressive. She wasn't thinking anymore—she was just reacting, her instincts taking over.
For a moment, it felt like she was getting through. Her blade grazed the woman's arm, a small victory but a victory nonetheless.
But then, just as quickly as it had begun, it was over.
The woman moved with blinding speed, her blade flashing in the dim light. Before Yeon-ah could react, she felt the cold sting of metal against her neck once again.
The fight was over.
Yeon-ah's chest heaved with exhaustion, her body trembling from the effort. She had come so close—closer than she ever had before. But it wasn't enough.
The woman withdrew her blade, her expression unreadable. "You're improving," she said after a long pause. "But you're still not there yet."
Yeon-ah swallowed hard, her throat dry. She wanted to scream, to shout that it wasn't fair, that she had been trying her best. But she knew that wouldn't change anything. The woman didn't care about her frustration, her exhaustion. She cared about survival.
"Again," the woman said, her voice cold and unyielding.
Yeon-ah nodded, her body aching with exhaustion but her mind sharper than ever. She wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.
This was her path now—her test. And she wouldn't stop until she had proven herself.
No matter how long it took.