Dawn at the Blue Sword Sect was always chilling, but lately, the air held a uniquely strange weight. I stood in the middle of the training grounds, staring at the back of my disciple as he swung his wooden sword. This fellow was originally the troublemaker of the Blue Sword Sect. Relying on his natural build and staggering talent, he would leap over the walls of the pleasure districts every few days and return at dawn smelling of alcohol, as if mocking the curfew. That was until fifteen days ago, when I, unable to take it anymore, ambushed him on his way back, tied him up tightly with the Five Elements Grappling Technique, and beat him until the dust flew, before ordering an 'indefinite ban on outings' and 'late-night special training.' But since that day, he has become strange.

"Master, the end of this form seems a bit difficult... Could you take a look at it again?"

My spine went cold at the low, sinking voice. It had been ten days since he was thrown into the training grounds after his disciplinary beating. I expected him to rebel and starve himself for a few days, but instead, he became as quiet as a dead mouse. No, rather than becoming quiet, he began to focus tenaciously on something. The problem was that the object of that focus was not swordsmanship, but me.

He turned his head to look at me. The gaze in his eyes, as sweat dripped down his chin, was not the rebellious one from before.

It was something lewd and sinister... resembling the glint in a beast's eyes as it corners its prey and enjoys the reaction. Everywhere that gaze touched, my skin burned, and I felt an impulse to avoid it, but I stood there with my hands behind my back, forcing myself to maintain my dignity as a teacher. If I showed any sign of panic here, there was no telling what bizarre thing this extraordinary fellow might do.

"Fine. I shall show you once more."

I adjusted my grip on the wooden sword and approached his side. His skills were already unrivaled within the sect. It was clear he was the talent who would carry the Blue Sword Sect in the future, but that superior genius had become a poison, making his relationships with his fellow disciples the worst. In particular, the complaints from my first disciple, Pung-yak, were constant. Pung-yak was the model of a talented man, but he found it difficult to endure the arrogant behavior of this natural genius.

Since he had played at the top of everyone's heads since he was young, what could he possibly fear in the world? However, the path of the martial world is not walked by swordsmanship alone. I corrected his footwork as he swung the sword, a bitter smile forming inside me.

'You do not know how to lean on people.'

As his Master, I was quite worried to see him moving forward relying only on his own strength, without having learned how to open his heart and approach someone. However, the sight of this fellow next to me now, strangely curling the corners of his mouth and scanning my every touch, seemed a far cry from a lonely young man with no one to lean on. The night deepened, and we were the only two in the training grounds. The rough breathing he let out mixed turbulently with the cool dawn air. I tried to pull up my sword energy to erase the ominous premonition, but I couldn't shake off that persistent gaze felt from behind my back. I should have known then that this quiet change was the silence before the storm.