Kingdom Falling | Gyuricky two.

“Young master, you must start preparing to leave now.” 

One of the maids had sent a short-distance communication spell over to him, and her voice rang out in his ear as he swung with his weapon, blocking a dozen attacks from his sparring partner in a row.

Gyuvin pulled the white handkerchief tucked in his sleeve, the only sign that would be accepted to pause a sparring match. His opponent lowered his sword, panting hard, but smiling still. “You giving up so soon? That’s not like you…”

“I got a message,” Gyuvin answered, lowering his weapon, wiping the sweat off his forehead. “Envoy for the training camp leaves at noon. I have to go.”

“Oh, I forgot that was happening…”

Gyuvin laughed. “Don’t be jealous that I’m going and you aren’t!” he said playfully, swinging his spear leisurely in one hand as he prepared to head off to his own quarters.

“Wha- I’m not!” the other boy protested immediately, throwing a leaf at him. “Take care out there, okay? Come back and teach me everything.”

“You know I will,” Gyuvin said, winking. “Bye, Junhyeon.”

“Bye!”

Meteor Court was built on a great expanse of flat land on a plateau at the top of a mountain, which meant the weather was crisp and chill all year round, but not cold enough to be uncomfortable or uninhabitable. The training field where all the disciples practiced sparring was closer to the south end of the Court, while the disciples’ sleeping quarters, dining halls and general living spaces were located in the north. It was well before noon when he got to the dining hall and though lunch was ready, hot steam wafting from the big trays of food at the corner, no one was around other than one person eating by himself.

“Hanbin-hyung!”

Hanbin looked up from his food, waving Gyuvin over cheerily. “Oh, you’re here! Get some food, hurry. We don’t have much time until the carriage is scheduled to leave.”

Gyuvin smiled sheepishly. “Actually, I ate a big breakfast so I’m not really hungry. I’ll just get some snacks while waiting for you, okay?”

He headed over to the corner where the food sat arranged in trays with a simple enchantment over them to stop them from getting cold, picking out a few lotus cakes before sitting down opposite Hanbin. “Hyung, are you excited for the training camp? Do you know anyone there?”

The training camp for the Spirit Beast Festival was an joint event held by a coalition of the top five sects in the cultivation world, including the Meteor Court sect Gyuvin and Hanbin were both from. Letters were delivered by hand to sects big and small all over the country, inviting them to send their top few disciples to the Sky-Ascending Peak to train for six months under the guidance of some of the most famed senior cultivators in the world and learn some of the techniques and skills that had previously been guarded secrets of their own sects. The aim of the entire event was not only to allow the younger generation of freshly budding cultivators to meet officially with people from the other sects who usually lived far away, but also for the best of the best to finally get a good look at each other’s skills, and for the individual sects themselves to finally get a peek at some of the techniques they’d been eyeing from other sects that they themselves hadn’t quite been able to learn.

Gyuvin was representing Meteor Court there, of course, and no one was really surprised that he’d been chosen; at the age of sixteen he was one of the youngest to be the master of a holy weapon, and rumor in the cultivation world was that a physician who had once been called in to see him for a minor injury had said that Gyuvin had the strongest innate cultivation core he’d ever seen in the world shy of the top few most seasoned cultivators. Of course, as word passed from mouth to mouth the story became more and more twisted and less and less believed, and no one really cared that his weapon once belonged to his father and wasn’t something he’d gone through the Trial by Fire to get himself. People on the streets just loved good gossip, and they only cared for the details when they made the story more salacious and shocking.

“I heard one of my old friends was going too,” Hanbin answered. “Matthew, from the Dew Spring Estate. I met him long ago on a joint mission, when we were both about fifteen.”

“Ah, at least you’ll have a friend there,” Gyuvin fretted, sighing. “I’m worried about making a good impression on everyone else.”

“Gyuvin-ah, you know you’re the only person I know who mastered their holy weapon at age fourteen?” Hanbin said, fixing him with a look. “You know you’re the only person I know who can kill six demons with a single slash? And I know a lot of people, so that really means something.”

Gyuvin fell silent. It was true that he did have all the skills to back him if he chose to be prideful. No one would blame him, honestly. But he himself was worried that, after all the gossip that had gone around about how strong he apparently was, he would disappoint.

It was true that he’d mastered Yuexi the year he turned fourteen. Yuexi was the holy weapon his father had owned, a jade-tipped polearm, and it had been left behind for him when his father was cast out of Meteor Court for treason a decade ago. The circumstances surrounding Gyuvin’s father’s exile were a mystery to most considering Meteor Court officials tried their best to cover it up. Gyuvin had been five then, and none the wiser; one day his father had been playing with him in the willow groves by the lake, and the next day his father was gone and said to never be coming back again. The sect leader had put all his heart into taking care of Gyuvin after that, promising to step up where his own father had failed, promising to raise Gyuvin to be the strongest cultivator of his generation, so it wasn’t like he’d been lacking any sort of care or nurturing as he grew up. Either way, he’d begun training with Yuexi when he was thirteen, as instructed by the sect leader, and by the time he was fourteen the holy weapon had truly accepted him as its new master. Yuexi was a seasoned and experienced weapon; sometimes when he fought with it Gyuvin almost felt like his father’s muscle memory was taking over him, the way he slashed and swung his polearm, the way he ducked and waited for the perfect opportunity to strike at a weak spot. It comforted him, sometimes, to have the moves come to him so familiarly it felt like he’d done it a billion times.

But even with a holy weapon by his side, and with a cultivation core touted to be the strongest in the world, his abilities were in truth somewhat…average. Sure he’d beat any cultivator his age hands down in a fight if it came to it, and sure he had a good track record against demonic entities, but he’d always felt like he was just not that special. With more discipline and training and meditation, he was sure anyone else could get to his level, and then what was the use of his core being so strong when at the end of the day he wasn’t that much more outstanding than everybody else? It just happened to be that he didn’t have to train too hard to reach that level, which frankly speaking wasn’t anything for him to boast about.

“I don’t know, hyung…” he said, frowning, chewing his lotus cake slowly. “I’m really not all that outstanding. I’m sure you’d pin me within a dozen moves if we sparred right now.”

“I’m older than you, Gyuvin-ah,” Hanbin answered, laughing. “It makes sense that I should. And even I’m not so sure I would win. Have more confidence in yourself, Gyu.”

Gyuvin nodded, finishing the last crumbs of his lotus cake. A communication spell rang out in both their ears just then.

“Gyuvin, Hanbin, come down to the main gate of the Court. The carriage to the Sky-Ascending Peak is leaving soon.”

The sect leader’s voice. Even he had come to send them off.

“Let’s go, we don’t want to keep them waiting,” Gyuvin said, picking up his empty plate and placing it at the designated area and heading for the gates.