A Medieval Knight in a Martial Arts Novel

What is the Hainam Thirty-Six Sword Technique, the signature skill of the Hainan Sword Sect?

If you were to ask the swordsmen of the Central Plains, most would respond this way:

“It’s a mystical swordstyle that pours attacks like the tide rushing in and restrains the opponent by pulling them in like the tide going out.”

Its movements were as strong and swift as waves, and even the haughty martial artists of the Central Plains recognized the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Technique as a remarkable skill.

Hence, Mugwang, who was allowed to practice twenty-four of the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Techniques, felt confident that his art could rival any sword technique.

After all, even without the latter moves, which were exclusively permitted to the senior disciples, the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Technique was a powerful art.

In particular, his sword was sharp and precise even among the second-generation disciples. While he might be lacking in the full emission of energy due to his incomplete mastery, he had certainly perfected the fundamentals of the sword art.

“Muguang is strong, despite his obsession with challenges…”

“Muguang will surely show the Colored-Eyed swordsman the fearsomeness of the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Technique.”

The disciples of the Hainan Sword Sect, who had never left the island of Hainan in their entire lives, watched with anticipation, never once considering the possibility that the Colored-Eyed swordsman could win, wondering how he would counter the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Technique.

Carrying the hopes of these disciples, Mugwang drew the first form, initiating the assault.

“I’ll go first! First Wave, Ten Thousand Waves!”

A wave of sword strikes that pressed relentlessly on the opponent, impossible to block or evade.

An experienced swordsman familiar with the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Technique might wait for an opportunity, interrupt the rhythm, and counterattack, but for someone unfamiliar, it would be easy to lose control and allow an opening.

“If the first move is blocked, I’ll switch to the third move…”

His first move accurately and swiftly traced a line towards William’s chest, essentially a feint to take the measure of the Western sword art.

Through this, Mugwang hoped to gain some insight into the style of Western swordsmanship.

“Is it the Circular Sword, the Heavy Sword, or the Swift Sword? Which one could it be…”

What would William’s response to the Hainan Thirty-Six Sword Technique look like?

Mugwang gazed at William’s sword with anticipation.

At the moment the swords interlocked, William’s bamboo sword slid along Mugwang’s sword as if greased.

The sliding bamboo sword eventually collided with Mugwang’s nose. It was a situation that could easily lead to a test of strength.

However, testing strength by pressing sword against sword was regarded as foolish in both the Central Plains and the West.

In true form of practiced swordsmen, both quickly transitioned to their next moves.

Mugwang drew the fourth move, Flat Ground Storm, while William…

“What?!”

Reacting instinctively to a sensed danger, Mugwang’s head snapped back. Barely evading the attack, all he could see was the hilt of a bamboo sword.

A completely unexpected counterattack.

It wasn’t a slash or a thrust—it was a stab.

If his senses hadn’t acted quickly, his forehead would’ve taken the blow.

Mugwang quickly retreated to create distance, swallowing hard.

“You dodged.”

William let out a sigh of regret mixed with admiration.

It was admiration for Mugwang’s unexpectedly swift reaction.

“For the moment… let’s observe.”

He gripped the bamboo sword with both hands and lifted it up to the height of his head, pointing the blunt end at Mugwang.

The Ox Guard.

A favorite stance of knights, both defensive and offensive.

Never having seen this posture before, Mugwang hesitated to launch an offensive.

Because he couldn’t predict what kind of attack or defense this stance could accommodate.

At first glance, the position with the grip pulled back seemed like it could lead to a thrust, but the slightly bent wrist hinted that it might turn into a slash.

While maintaining his posture, Mugwang reviewed the previous attack in his mind.

“He used the slide to slip inside.”

What appeared to be a defensive maneuver quickly transformed into an attack.

It was a spur-of-the-moment improvisation or perhaps a characteristic of Western swordsmanship. Mugwang’s lips curled up into a grin.

“This is interesting!”

It was a sword art from the West, starkly different from the martial arts of the realm.

Mugwang calmed his excitement.

Because there was nothing more dangerous in a martial contest than becoming overly excited.

William, wanting to see more of the Hainan sword art, maintained his stance instead of pressing the attack as he would in a battlefield scenario.

“Seems a bit boring.”

“I thought there’d be more dramatic clashing…”

The students began to express disappointment.

They had expected the two swordsmen to whirl around the training ground, their swords interlocked in chaos. But the moment their swords touched was fleeting.

William stood still without rushing in, and Mugwang hesitated to strike first. The training ground soon fell into a stifling silence.

The silence was broken by Mugwang’s exclamation.

“The hilt instead of the blade… if I’d been just a bit slower, I’d be lying on the floor of the training ground right now.”

“Just a little slower and it would have ended right there. Good reflexes.”

William shrugged as he responded to Mugwang’s compliment.

To think he could dodge that.

‘These guys, probably because they don’t wear armor, are quite agile.’

Or maybe it was the footwork.

William hadn’t missed how Mugwang’s feet moved in an odd path as he charged.

‘I need to adjust to his agility a bit.’

While maintaining his stance, William analyzed Mugwang’s first move, preparing for the next attack.

In such a state of sizing each other up,

The whispers of the onlookers and the breathing of the two duelists filled the training ground when Mugwang spoke.

“May I request another move?”

‘Since I made the first move, it’s your turn to attack now.’

Mugwang’s clear expression of intent caused William to lower his right leg into a bent stance. Naturally, the hand that was raised above his head also dropped to his waist, and the tip of his sword tilted upward.

‘Just continuous guard postures… no sequences?’

Upon reflection, the previous movement was perhaps too economical to even be called a form. Just as Mugwang had these doubts,

William charged forward like an enraged rhinoceros.

There was none of the elaborate footwork characteristic of the Central Plains, just a straightforward approach.

Yet, the rapid closing distance was unexpected for such a large figure.

Mugwang didn’t evade the rush but pulled back his upper body and raised his sword to cut the flow of the attack.

He intended to deflect the attack with his sword and respond with a rotated strike similar to the previous move.

Eventually, their swords met in the air, each with different intentions.

And Mugwang was startled by William’s action of letting go of the bamboo sword with one hand and extending his left arm.

‘Letting go of his sword?’

In a situation where both were pressing their swords together, letting go with one hand was a dangerous move.

But William detached his hand from the sword as if it was the most natural thing to do.

His left arm encircled Mugwang’s arm from the outside as if locking it in place and spun his body.

“Aaah!”

Naturally ending up in a position where he bent Mugwang’s right arm behind him, William confirmed that Mugwang’s bamboo sword had flown off into the distance before releasing his stance.

“Oi, are you alright?”

‘What exactly just happened?’

Mugwang looked perplexedly at his flying sword far away. As soon as their swords touched, the long arm encircled, and then his arm was—

‘Did I bend it too much? Did his arm break?’

It was a proper duel, so no one would protest now, but it would leave a bitter taste if there were injuries.

William, remembering that he’d bent the right arm, refrained from placing his hand on the shoulder as he approached Mugwang, who remained kneeled and motionless.

“Hey—”

“I am fine. I was merely surprised by your move, William.”

Mugwang looked up at William, his eyes conveying a desire for another round.

‘Sword enthusiasts are all the same.’

William extended his hand to Mugwang, who hesitated for a moment, stared at the large and rough hand, then grabbed it and stood up.

“I lost.”

“It was a good match.”

Even though they only actually clashed swords twice, the duel was filled with lessons for both, leaving no complaints.

“William, if you have time…”

“Whenever you want.”

A sandbag for rehabilitation…no, a training partner won.

“Ho ho…”

Mugwang’s teacher, who had watched the exchange closely, stroked his beard with a bittersweet smile.

‘That guy won’t be pestering the other students for sparring sessions anymore, will he?’

How many scoldings had he received from the sect leader due to his sword-obsessed disciple?

Such a life has also come to an end.

The teacher affectionately observed the Colored-Eyed swordsman speaking with Mugwang.

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