Chapter 14: Martial Arts Training
by fnovelpia
Modern-day Chungwoon knew nothing of martial arts.
He knew which martial arts existed, which among them were divine arts, and the affinities of each—because he had played the original game, Cheongpungjeon.
But that didn’t mean he truly knew martial arts.
To know something meant to internalize it, make it one’s own, and wield it freely.
Thus, Cheongun did not know martial arts.
In games, martial arts were nothing more than “skills,” weren’t they?
Just a click of a button, and they executed automatically— so why bother pondering their deeper principles?
Perhaps that was why.
When he was summoned for his first lesson, he was met with a sudden Zen-like question.
“What is martial arts?”
“It’s just a fancy way of dressing up beating people to death.”
Jin Museong silently observed the boy standing before him.
For some reason, despite his innate martial talent, this boy’s understanding of martial studies was lacking. No, at this level, it was more accurate to say he knew nothing at all.
No wonder such an answer had come out when asked what martial arts were.
Jin Museong intended to fill in these gaps while teaching him.
“Martial arts is the Gongfu of martial techniques.”
“Gongfu?”
“Yes. Then what is Gongfu?”
“Learning and mastering something.”
“Exactly! That’s it. It is self-reflection—in other words, cultivation.”
“Ah, I see.”
Cheongun nodded vaguely.
It was fairly important knowledge.
As expected of someone older, his wisdom was vast.
“Through cultivation, one becomes one with nature, reaching the realm of ‘wuwei ziran’ (effortless action), transcending the Dao. The practice that began with the goal of ascending to immortality is the Taoist art of dantian breathing.”
“What about Buddhism?”
“Severing the five desires and seven emotions, freeing oneself from suffering, and mastering the body—that would be the Buddhist way.”
I see.
Taoism perfectly matched the image of Wudang, and Buddhism fit Shaolin exactly.
It was a flawless explanation.
“Through breathing, one guides qi, and when that qi meets a tempered body, it creates a synergistic effect, reaching superhuman realms. This is what is called internal energy (neigong). Training and controlling it is cultivation—and that, in essence, is martial arts.”
“Ohh.”
“That’s why the prerequisite for accumulating internal energy is self-cultivation. This is why the Nine Schools and One Sect each pursue their own paths. Interpreting martial studies through their goals and embodying them in the sword—”
“That’s the technique, right?”
“Kekeke! Exactly.”
So that’s the skill acquisition condition in this world.
What a tedious and complicated affair.
“You’ve been controlling qi through your innate martial bone and sensitivity, but that alone isn’t enough to achieve true swordsmanship. Swinging a fishing rod like a sword—what’s the point? If you can’t wield a sword as a sword, it’s just swinging a sharp metal stick.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes. That’s why what I’ll teach you now is the sword art known as ‘Jeokya Chamcheongeom’ (Midnight Heaven-Splitting Sword).”
It was a sword art he knew.
One of the Five Great Sword Arts symbolizing the current martial world—there was no way he wouldn’t know it.
“Watch this.”
The moment his words ended, Jin Museong raised his wooden sword into a preparatory stance and drew a single arc in the air.
Swish—!
The sharp sound of the blade splitting the air grazed his ears.
The sword seemed to freeze mid-air, but that was an illusion.
The tip trembled faintly before abruptly changing direction like lightning.
A long, horizontal slash tore through the void.
Like a meteor, the sword light flashed, leaving a blazing tail in its wake.
Crack—!
A sound like ice splitting echoed as white flames erupted from the sword’s trajectory.
Chungwoon’s eyes remained glued to the path of the blade.
The sword’s movements, flowing like a dance, were nothing short of a breathtaking sword dance.
How could such motion be possible from a single person’s hand?
Chungwoon stared, spellbound, forgetting even to blink.
The profundity of the sword technique before him surpassed imagination.
Truly flawless— ‘wuque’.
Was it because he had maxed out his qi sensitivity stat during character creation?
It was on a completely different level from watching it through a monitor.
Chungun could see not just how the sword moved but also how the qi flowed and transformed alongside it.
The gap was immense.
“Huu.“
Jin Museong sheathed his sword after the demonstration.
The qi that had been in motion now flickered around the blade like flames.
“Did you see it?”
“Yes.”
“Tell me your thoughts.”
“That was insane.”
“Kekeke! You’ve got a good eye. So, can you replicate it?”
Cheongun fell into thought.
Even with his qi sensitivity maxed out, he couldn’t recall it clearly.
No— he did remember.
The movements, the sword’s path, how the qi moved—all of it.
If asked to mimic it right now, he could probably approximate the motions.
But the underlying principles?
He had no clue.
Even if he copied the movements, he had zero confidence in reproducing the same effect.
“I don’t think I can.”
“Do you remember it?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent. Then let’s begin your martial training now.”
Jin Museong led him to a private training hall at the back of the estate.
Access was restricted to members of the Namgung family, so the surroundings were quiet.
Jin Museong handed Cheongun a wooden sword lying on the ground.
“Take it. Now, let’s spar.”
“Spar? What about training?”
“Sparring is training.”
“???”
Jin Museong smirked at Cheongun’s bewildered face as he held the sword.
“Let’s begin right away!”
“W-wait a second—!”
The moment their eyes met, Jin Museong swung his wooden sword toward Cheongun’s thigh.
The force behind the blade tore through the air with terrifying momentum.
“Damn it—!”
Startled, Cheongun twisted his body to dodge.
Thanks to his maxed-out qi sensitivity, he barely managed to react.
“Still, turning my body too quickly, one foot slipped, and I nearly tumbled forward.
‘You call this training?!’
‘Ha! Where else would you find better training than this?!’
‘This is just plain beating!’
‘Nonsense! The essence of martial arts has always been fastest and most effectively mastered through direct physical experience! For your untrained body, which grew strong only through innate talent, there’s no better method than this!’
‘What if I get hurt?!’
‘Youngsters like you might get hurt while training. That’s what youth is—pain!’
‘If it hurts, that’s not youth, that’s being a patient!’
‘Tch! Shut up!’
Jin Moo-sung’s sword rose, then began slicing through the air in all directions.
Soon, the terrifyingly swift strikes began raining down on Cheongun slashing his shoulder, thwacking his back, smacking his buttocks—like a relentless drumbeat.
All the while, Jin Museong explained the principles embedded in the sword techniques without pause.
‘This is the essence of Byeon (change)! And this is the essence of Pae (dominance)!’
‘Ugh!’
‘Here, to mix in the essence of Gok (curve), you step forward with one foot… Good! Next, if you twist the sword’s momentum and strike downward, you can break the opponent’s force—this is the essence of the Chilseong Sword Technique! The core principle embedded in the Chilyacheomcheon Sword’s first move!’
‘Gah!’
Damn it! Is this even training?!
Each strike hurt so much that a pained,
‘Ugh!’ burst out involuntarily.
At this rate, I might actually die.
So Cheong-un drew upon the natural energy he had secretly stored in his dantian.
Yet, the relentless sound of strikes didn’t stop.
‘Since you can’t wield strong energy yet, dodge before you get hit! Don’t think—thinking makes you slow! Trust your instincts! Pride won’t feed you! If you can’t dodge, roll!’
Cheong-un gasped.
The sword was so fast his eyes could barely follow.
Yet, inwardly, Jin Moo-sung was amazed.
As time passed, Cheong-un increasingly managed to deflect or evade the sword.
His body instinctively twisted to avoid the strikes, adjusted posture in response to the sword’s momentum, and lowered itself the moment danger was sensed—his fundamentals were solid!
And when cornered, he even resorted to rolling on the ground like the Naryeo Tagon technique!
When forced to take a hit, he twisted his body to absorb the impact on less vulnerable areas like his shoulders, back, or outer thighs.
And when even that wasn’t enough, he focused energy on specific points to disperse the shock.
Jin Moo-sung shuddered with genuine awe at his disciple’s genius.
Matching Cheong-un’s real-time growth, Jin Museong’s swordplay grew even more dazzling.
‘Kuhahaha! Truly, heaven-sent martial talent!’
‘Ahh! What the hell is this crazy old man saying?!’
‘Then let’s keep going!’
‘You’re gonna kill your own disciple!’
‘I’m personally engraving martial arts into you! I’ll hammer every last bit into your flesh, no exceptions!’
‘You—crazy—ahh!’
****
Meanwhile.
Righteous Alliance, Cheongseong Branch, Underground Prison.
‘……’
Swoosh.
A shadow slid through the darkness before a figure emerged.
The man wore a mask—another assassin sent by the Biyeong Sect.
‘Cell 35…’
His reason for coming here was simple.
Hong Soyeon, the spy hidden here, had gone silent.
It happened often.
Stupid women slipping up and getting caught wasn’t rare.
But the problem came after.
Hong So-yeon’s reputation was already poor.
Knowing this, the Sect Leader ordered her elimination before she could spill anything, dispatching Baek Samma (White Twin Blades) for the job.
But then, Baek Samma also vanished.
Two possibilities:
Either Baek Samma had been captured.
Or Hong Soyeon had betrayed them.
‘Baek Samma wouldn’t be caught so easily.’
The assassin suppressed his presence and moved forward.
When he reached Cell 35, where Hong Soyeon was imprisoned, he saw her lying inside, and their eyes met.
‘Brother Kim?’
‘Where’s Baek Samma?’
He cut straight to the point.
‘How should I know?’
‘The fact that you’re still alive is proof of betrayal. And what’s that Byeokgok Pill in the corner? Damn bitch! You wagging your tail at the righteous sects to save your own skin?!’
His words struck a nerve.
Yet Hong Soyeon remained eerily calm.
No— she even seemed genuinely offended.
‘What? Wagging my tail like a dog? Do you even know my situation, Brother? Have I said anything?’
‘If I’m wrong, then speak up.’
‘You’re not wrong, but so what?’
‘……’
Is this woman actually insane?
The assassin was momentarily stunned.
‘Did you sell out Baek Samma too?’
‘Yes.’
‘…Is she dead?’
‘No. Why? Still can’t let go after getting rejected?’
‘……Where is she now?’
‘Behind you.’
‘What?’
His head whipped around.
Just as Hong So-yeon said, Baek Samma was lying in the cell behind him.
With the Amyoung Bichim (Shadow Piercing Needle) already fitted to her finger.
Then—
‘!!!’
Thwip- thwip- thwip!
In an instant, the needles flew and embedded themselves in the assassin’s forehead.
A moment later, his corpse collapsed.
And then—
Baek Samma, who had assassinated the intruder in a flash,
‘Ho-ho!’
While chewing on the Byeokgok Pill,
Celebrated her own success in eliminating the intruder.
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