Chapter 11 The Announcement

Wolseong's blade stopped an inch from Taeyang's throat.

"You're dead," Wolseong said.

Taeyang didn't flinch. “But my sword is at your ribs?"

Wolseong looked down and smiled because indeed, Taeyang's blade was resting against the gap in his armor, just below the armpit. A strike that could easily take him out, if either of them had been using live steel.

Wolseong nodded approvingly before stepping back and sheathing his sword. "You baited me."

"Yeah, I learnt from you, master.”

He nodded approvingly. “It's good you're finally thinking and fighting."

Two months ago, a sparring session with Taeyang would have ended with him beating the latter without almost as winding himself out. But now the boy was indeed putting in his all.

He wiped the sweat off his chin before unsheathing his sword and taking his stance back.

“Again." He called.

Taeyang fell back, sword drawn, his arms ached. Infact his entire shoulders were already burned out and infact he had bruises—fresh and old ones— all over his body from the aggressive training sessions but he'd learned to live with the pain.

Wolseong struck at him without warning in a smooth high cut, Taeyang blocked the strike and twisted away as he did a low feint. His third strike was met with a rising parry that forced Wolseong back a half-step. The master smiled but kept pressing harder. Taeyang retreated further across the clearing, parrying the blows while patiently waiting for his opening.

It came in the fourth exchange.

Wolseong overextended by a fraction and Taeyang sidestepped instead of retreating, his blade arched down to trap his master's sword against the dirt.

Wolseong's eyes flickered. "Better. You're finally learning to read the fight."

Taeyang puffed hard, as he pulled back. "I have a good teacher."

"Don't get sentimental. It doesn't suit you." Wolseong dismissed.

From across the clearing, Baekho and Soohyun were sparring. Soohyun darted in and out on quick feet while Baekho formed ice shields to block his strikes. Yohan circled them both, waiting for his moment, inthe same patient way he'd always done.

Wolseong called out to them above his voice. "Enough. All of you. There's something you need to know."

The sparring stopped, the trio trudged over to them.

Wolseong took a swig out of his drinking gourd before finally speaking. “I have something important to say to you punks, but first, someone needs to get us food.”

The east market was in pure chaos when they arrived.The stalls were as usual jammed tightly under faded awnings, under which butchers hacked carcasses while wading of flies. A few merchants even shouted after haggling women.

Taeyang and his friends pushed through the crowd, Baekho at his shoulder, while Soohyun and Yohan trailed behind.

“I think we should get the rice first,” Soohyun was saying.

“Let’s check the beef section first, before they sell all the best meat there is,” Baekho countered.

“I don't think we have enough money for beef right now.” Taeyang pointed out.

Baekho grumbled something inaudible before he caught sight of something that made him halt momentarily, stopping the others.

“What's wrong?” Taeyang asked staring at Baekho with a puzzled expression.

“Look over there.” Baekho pointed, nodding at a crowd, that was constantly growing by the minute. “I think something's up, I suggest we go to find out.”

Taeyang stared ahead at the place he was pointing at and shrugged. So they shouldered through the crowd and in no time they were in front of a large white print. Taeyang’s eyes locked on the fresh Imperial seal at the bottom of the parchment and his heart did a small flip.

“Blimey!” Soohyun whispered from over his shoulder. “Its a royal degree!”

Yohan glance at Taeyang briefly before looking back at the print.

It read:

IMPERIAL MARTIAL ARTS COMPETITION

By decree of His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Sunjong

A martial arts competition has been opened to all young men of the empire

The Grand Prize for the winner of this competition would be the Commander of the Palace Guard

Registration begins at dawn tomorrow at the Imperial arena.

“Commander of the Palace Guard, that's giving you control over the Gates, patrols, you can even decides who enters and leaves the palace. That's literally power over everything.” An excited young man whispered to his friend.

“Geez and it's open to all.” Another person chirped in.

Taeyang turned away from the notice, with his heart racing a hundred miles a second. Baekho followed closely behind him, whispering fiercely and slamming a fist into his palm. “This is our chance, this is our goddamned chance—”

“The selection process is going to be so rigorous.” Soohyun chirped in thoughtfully.

“Who cares?” Yohan shot back. “The commander of the palace guards is not just any position, I don't care how strict it is, I'm definitely trying my luck here.”

“The opponents are going to be tough, veterans and experts from the borders would even show up, I don't even think we stand a chance.”

"We've trained with Wolseong," Yohan said fiercely. “Wolseong is the best swordsman in the entire empire.”

“It doesn't necessarily mean, we'll win.”

“But it gives us an edge!”

“Enough both of you!” Taeyang snapped breaking off the argument.

The friends quieted down as they turned into the market path again.

“We'll have to take this up with Master Wolseong first before we do anything rash.”

Soohyun nodded agreeing with Taeyang.

“Okay then.” Yohan dropped the matter but not Baekho.

Baekho was so distracted till they got everything they needed to get and even returned back to camp, his mind kept recycling the information they'd just seen:

The contest, the contest, the contest!

“Baekho?!” Taeyang finally snapped dropping a bowl of boiled rice in front of him, later that evening.

“Ugh, what?”

“You look really distracted, what's up with you?”

“Nothing!” He shrugged, picking up his bowl and chopstick.

“Come on, Spill it.” Yohan said, dropping on the floor beside Baekho.

“I have just been thinking about that contest.” Baekho confesses, picking the food up with his chopstick.

Wolseong looked up from his food, “What Contest?”

Baekho and Taeyang exchanged glances briefly, before Soohyun cleared his throat. “We saw an announcement on our way back from the market.”

“What announcement?” Wolseong pressed, setting his bowl down.

“It's an imperial order from the emperor, a martial arts contest for all young men in the empire.”

“And?”

Taeyang swallowed, glanced at his friends then back at his master. “We were actually thinking about joining.”

“So have you done that?” Wolseong asked.

“No.”

“Taeyang suggested we seek your advice on the matter.” Soohyun chirped in.

Wolseong picked up his bowl again. “Now, you have my opinion on the matter, you boys go ahead.”

“But master–”

“What's the best way to test your strength if not through competition boys, go on ahead.”

Taeyang swallowed. “There's a reward attached though.”

“I'm sure it's very good.”

“It's the commander of the palace guards.”

“That's even more reason why you should take it on,” Wolseong declared turning his attention to the food, after two spoonfuls he paused and glanced at Taeyang. “Especially you, Prince. This might be an opportunity for you.”

Taeyang blinked, surprised at

the revelation. His mind had never thought about it that way, but now he suddenly saw a way.

Maybe he could actually redeem himself again through this.