Chapter 5
It didn't take long for the opportunity to come to Seol-ah on its own.
It happened the very next day after she came out of seclusion.
That's because Seol-ah deliberately showed up at the training ground for everyone to see.
As soon as she appeared, the sword division's disciples who were already gathered there started murmuring and crowding around.
As expected—
"Wow, the rumors were true? I heard the Seclusion Hall opened at dawn yesterday. She really didn't die."
Someone showed up, sneering.
The crowd parted like the Red Sea as the owner of that voice walked in with his gang.
It was clear they came to pick a fight.
Seol-ah was secretly pleased.
'Right. This is how you should come out.'
Was it troubling?
Not at all.
This was the exact scene she had planned by coming to the training ground.
"I thought you used seclusion as an excuse to run away, but you actually walked back here on your own?"
"What's this? I thought you'd come out all shriveled up, but you look fine. Did you really even train? Or did you run away somewhere and just come back?"
The guys chuckled and swaggered up to her.
Seol-ah knew exactly who they were.
'They're Hae-yeon's disciples. Perfect targets.'
They were perfect to demonstrate her new skills on.
Even before she entered seclusion, these guys were always treated as special in the sword division.
Officially, all disciples were supposed to be treated equally in the sword division.
Everyone received the same training, the same assigned amount of practice, and if they failed, no meals.
On the surface.
'In other words, there were exceptions. These jerks are the perfect example.'
Though the sword division claimed equality, Seol-ah knew that subtle discrimination still existed.
And these three were the biggest beneficiaries of it.
That's why they were ideal.
'If I take down just these guys, the gossip about my seclusion will disappear on its own.'
Seol-ah smiled, pleased that they had set the stage for her.
"What's with that creepy smile?"
"She stayed locked up for seven years and lost her mind, huh?"
"Eh, to me, it looks like she's scared."
"Why would someone who trained for seven whole years be scared? She should be strong enough to take us all down with just one finger."
How did he guess?
One of them had accidentally hit the nail on the head, but none of them realized it.
"But seriously, why are you just standing there? Did you lose your mind in seclusion from fear or something?"
Seol-ah silently observed the guys who were busy joking among themselves.
Even their training uniforms were different.
Normal disciples wore uniforms made of plain, durable fabric because they were bound to rip during training.
But not these guys.
Their uniforms shimmered with a soft gloss—clearly made of expensive material.
Wearing such high-end fabric for what's basically disposable clothing showed just how wealthy and privileged they were.
'It also means they're not really training.'
While they continued laughing among themselves, one of them took something out of his sleeve.
"I heard you lived on nothing but rat feed pills for seven years? Here, take this to celebrate."
"You probably ate weeds like a beggar anyway, so you can eat this too."
Then he threw something at Seol-ah.
Plop!
A warm, sweet scent wafted up. Even without checking, she knew exactly what it was.
'Rice cakes. Fancy ones coated in roasted soybean powder!'
This was unexpected.
If Seol-ah had one weakness, it was food.
Why?
Anyone who's gone through seclusion training would understand.
Seol-ah had done it not once, but twice before her return to the past.
So she could already imagine how it would taste.
Soft, warm, chewy, and nutty!
"Oh, right. You're a beggar, so you can't just eat it like that. Let me help."
A chubby guy waddled forward with a smirk and raised his foot.
Then—
Squish!
He stomped on the rice cake like he was grinding it into the dirt.
Even though it had been wrapped in oil paper, the rice cake was now a crushed mess.
Torn open, it was now smeared between his shoe and the dusty ground.
"Pfft. There. Now you can eat it like a beggar. You're good at that, right?"
They all burst into laughter.
Until that point, Seol-ah had still been smiling gently.
But now, her expression hardened.
'They dared mess with food?'
She had planned to use them as simple tools to showcase her skills—but that thought quickly changed.
'Fine. If I'm going to do it, might as well go all the way.'
She crossed out the word "moderately" from her plan.
Why go easy on people who walked up and asked to be beaten?
Refusing at this point would be rude.
And as the saying goes, people who mess with food deserve a beating.
Seol-ah's smile deepened.
"You guys… need a beating."
Under the bright sun, the training ground felt warm.
Normally, it would be filled with the energetic sounds of disciples training.
But not today.
Ever since Seol-ah appeared, everyone had gone quiet, too busy watching.
And now—
"What did she just say?"
Silence turned into a heavy chill in the air.
"Are your ears stuffed with fat? I said you need a beating."
Seol-ah replied calmly.
One of them exhaled sharply, stunned.
"Did she lose her mind in seclusion?"
The atmosphere tightened further.
Everyone was clearly watching for that guy's reaction.
Among the disciples, these three always walked around puffed up with pride.
Sure, their teacher was Hae-yeon, but more importantly, they came from wealthy families.
The sword division banned personal wealth inside its grounds, but it didn't stop families from sending things.
That only boosted these guys' arrogance.
With little food available, most disciples eventually became vulnerable to those with food.
'These spoiled brats don't even know the value of food! If left alone, they'll only harm the division.'
If Seol-ah dealt with them now, her skills would be proven.
And maybe—
'I might even win some betting money too.'
There might've been a bit of rigging involved.
So what?
Who told them to bet on her failure?
'If they're martial artists, they should've had better judgment. Still, better to lose money than lose your life, right? Maybe they'll learn from this.'
With a smirk, Seol-ah said,
"If you think I'm crazy, come find out for yourself. Oh, but judging by how fat you are, you probably skipped a lot of training. Can you even hold a sword properly?"
"Y-You little…!"
One of the goons, trying to humiliate her, ended up embarrassed instead.
His eyes burned with fury as he reached out.
Clearly, he was determined to put her in her place.
'Tsk. A disciple of the sword division who bullies someone weaker.'
No surprise—his master was greedy and obsessed with power. Like teacher, like student.
This one was beyond saving.
While Seol-ah thought that—
Grab!
A thick hand suddenly clamped down on her shoulder.
Despite his chubby body, his grip was surprisingly strong.
"Even without a sword, dealing with a runt like you is easy."
He sneered and squeezed harder.
He must've planned to force her to kneel and humiliate her.
But then—
Tap!
"Ugh…"
Thud!
"Ugh…"
A low groan escaped his lips.
He looked down blankly. His hand, which had just been gripping Seora's shoulder, was now dangling in the air.
"W-what…?"
Before he could react—
Thwack!
"Aaagh!"
His body, which had been towering over Seora just moments ago, flew sideways like a broken doll and crashed to the ground.
"W-what the…?!"
"What just happened?!"
The rest of the group flinched and stepped back in shock.
Seora stood still.
She hadn't even drawn her sword.
She had simply grabbed the wrist that touched her shoulder, twisted it slightly, and thrown the man down.
So fast, so clean—it was like a practiced reflex.
"You guys were saying something about giving me food like I'm a beggar?"
Her voice was calm, but it echoed like thunder in their ears.
The students around the training ground began murmuring.
"Did you see that?"
"She didn't even pull out her sword…"
"Was that a martial art move? That looked way too fast…"
Seora looked down at the guy groaning on the floor.
"You lost your balance just from that? And you're supposed to be a top disciple?"
She clicked her tongue.
"How did you even survive here in the Sword Hall?"
The guy clenched his teeth, trying to get up, but his arms were shaking.
Seora didn't move.
But the moment he tried to charge—
Whoosh!
In the blink of an eye, she appeared before him and kicked him straight in the stomach.
Thud!
He collapsed again with a loud thump, rolling across the ground.
The group around him finally realized how serious this was.
"She's… strong."
"Is she really the same Seora we knew?"
"Did she really just come back from a closed-door training…?"
They couldn't believe it.
Seora looked at the remaining two.
"Next?"
"…What?"
"If you're going to come at me together, do it now. I don't have all day."
Her eyes were cold.
The other two disciples exchanged glances.
They had been mocking her, confident she'd be weak after years locked away.
But now… they hesitated.
Seora saw their hesitation and sneered.
"Weren't you guys talking big earlier?"
She pointed to the smashed rice cake on the floor.
"You made a joke out of food. You better be ready to pay for that."
This wasn't just a demonstration anymore.
It was punishment.
And everyone watching knew it.
One of the remaining guys finally shouted in frustration, drawing his sword.
"Don't get cocky just because you caught us off guard!"
Seora's eyes narrowed.
At that moment, the real match began.