Faintly, Suddenly (9)

-Stick to it like a dog, until the very end.

That's what the old man had said when the training started.

-Your body has already transcended realms. So, as long as your spirit doesn't break midway, you will eventually be able to win.

And then the old man added more.

-Except when you're up against me.

Crack!

Getting punched straight on, I crumpled to the ground.

My ribs broke, and the shattered bone fragments pierced my lungs, cutting off my breath. My vision turned bright red.

'I died again.'

The training continued, embedding the foreign experience of death into my body.

No.

It's become a familiar experience now.

I shivered and forcibly brought myself back to consciousness.

"Kahak… Kuh."

The training I underwent back in the modern world was relatively leisurely.

There was time to think between engagements and even time for the occasional joke.

The battle with him was a fight of how much less I could die.

"Haugh, Hah. Cough, cough."

My body turned into a blood-soaked rag, with no time even for tears in this desperate battle.

As I bled and struggled to breathe, the old man exclaimed in admiration.

"Is this really human talent?"

Blood streamed from my nose and ears, soaking the grass below.

'Talent my ass. I don't think I can even beat Baekdo yet. In what realm do these people live?'

Cheonma… The more I saw, the deeper and more unfathomable he seemed.

In contrast, I was a pitiful being whose shallowness was evident with just a glance.

"Uh."

As I tensed my body, my bones and flesh forcibly returned to their places.

Crack!

I stood up again, clenching my fists.

Instead of petals, sticky black magic wrapped around my arms.

"It seems it's about time to teach you."

The old man, unscathed, looked down at me. As I lowered my arms, the black magic sank to the ground.

"Pull back your power, yes. Now you're somewhat fit to be called a human. You could even take on those boasting about being S-class outside."

S-class hunters or heroes.

I had experience winning against them, decked out in all sorts of high-performance lottery items and buffs.

It felt like an experience from purgatory, winning against lifeless bodies. But realizing I'm now at that level gave me a rough idea of how much stronger I've become in just a month.

"Even after a compliment, no reaction. Going to die once more?"

"Maintaining consciousness is already overwhelming."

"Of course. Who do you think you're up against?"

"..."

The old man, having sat down on a nearby rock, tossed me a water bottle he had taken from his waist.

A potion for healing magic.

My magic had grown to the point where one bottle was no longer enough.

I drank the potion and asked the old man.

"But what do you mean by teaching?"

"Have I ever really taught you anything before?"

I pondered for a moment and then replied.

"None. It seems all I've gotten was a severe beating."

"That's right. There's not much I actually have to teach you. You've had the knack from the start, so there's no need for me to say much, as you would figure it out on your own anyway."

The old man spread his palm and emitted his magic.

Black Qi floated above his wrinkled hand.

It wrapped around his hand, and when he clenched his fist, it lightly folded and disappeared.

"However, there are a few things that, if not mentioned now, could lead to serious trouble later."

I straightened up and listened attentively to the old man's words from across the battlefield.

First-

The old man, having prefaced his speech, finally began.

"You still don't know how to conceal your power."

"I've always made it a habit to suppress my magic."

"That's merely a secondary measure at best. Now, watch."

The old man, as a demonstration, retracted all his magic into his body, and the menacing aura instantly dissipated.

"Do you feel anything?"

'...'

Surprisingly, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't sense any power from him.

Apart from the atmosphere he carried, he wouldn't seem out of place as a normal person.

The old man resumed speaking, his voice tinged with annoyance, as he emitted his magic again.

"Normally, it's best to reveal your strength to avoid complications. But for someone moderately strong like you, it's wise to conceal it."

"Is that so?"

"Don't reply, just shut up and listen. It's not as easy as you think."

Was that technique really that difficult?

I tried to recall and mimic the movements the old man had made.

Hum!

I gathered all my magic into one place, confining it.

I managed up to this point, but what came next was the problem.

Even as I tried to fix the magic within my body, the unstable nature of my 'container' caused it to leak out.

"This is hard."

As I shared my honest impression, the old man chuckled in amusement.

"Can you gather all the blood flowing in your body into your heart overnight?"

"That would kill me, plus I can't move my blood at will."

"Right. You know it well."

In this world, it's common knowledge that magic flowed through the bodies of powerful beings.

Not emitting any aura means not only retracting the magic from the container but also pulling in all the magic flowing through the body, essentially locking it up. How could that be easy?

Especially since my 'container' was still under expansion and unstable.

As if it wasn't already difficult, the condition of having an unstable 'container' added to the challenge.

"But, given that you mentioned it today, it must not be impossible…"

"Catching on is just a matter of time. It'll be somewhat intense, though."

"Then let's start right away."

"Haste should be folded away nicely; that's not all I have to teach."

The old man peculiarly struck my head with a pipe he seemed to have pulled out of nowhere.

Thud!

The impact was strong enough to feel as if my head had been filled.

Blood trickled down from my forehead.

"Observing your movements, I noticed a few areas of deficiency."

"..."

"Your stable spirit and the way you handle Qi are impeccable. Someday, you might hold the hegemony that distorts the world."

Hegemony, distorting the world.

Such words, once unimaginable, now felt quite foreign.

By now, I was indifferent, but just from the choice of words, I could grasp the old man's way of thinking.

"The foundation is different."

"...Yes?"

"There's a missing piece somewhere. It feels intentionally omitted. There are many parts different from the form I created."

To say this a month later.

It seemed the old man had his own standards.

"Do you know where the power you're using originates from?"

"Isn't it the martial arts created by Cheonma?"

"Wrong. It's the martial arts passed down from the Peach Tree family, modified in my way. Well, if we're being precise, it could be seen as a re-creation."

Come to think of it, Cheondo might have mentioned something like that.

I remember her words from the past.

-This is everything of the Peach Tree passed down from ancient times. Fist and sword, internal energy combined as one. Do you grasp its essence?

When Cheondo first introduced the techniques and secrets, the constant attacks and enlightenments were more pressing, so the less crucial details were overlooked by me.

"But how is that power different from mine?"

"Explain everything you've learned, from start to finish."

Seven forms.

Mimicking the fruits of the Peach Tree in motion. The Five Techniques were created from applying each movement.

The White Peach (白桃) I used was a technique derived from one of the forms.

The next level, Thousand Layered White Peach (萬疊白桃), was also a technique developed through further application from another movement.

Just as the forms came together to complete the foundation.

Based on the forms, each of the Five Techniques connected, enhancing their power.

From One (一), White Peach, to Seven (七), Cheondo.

By that point, it became clearer to consider them not just as forms, but as paths.

The perfect martial path (一路) demonstrated by Baekdo was, for me, still an unattainable essence of talent and effort.

"So…"

I explained everything I had learned as thoroughly as possible.

What's essential in each movement, what's useful.

Having pride and knowledge in the power I wield, I delivered an impassioned speech.

However, the old man, smoking his pipe, replied with a nonchalant expression.

"I see."

"…Yes?"

"I understand what's lacking. Something was missing from the start. And that's the most important thing. It seems the eldest daughter didn't see you in a very favorable light."

I closed my mouth.

Because it was a question directly connected to the future, with the eldest daughter, Cheondo.

And because the remark about me being seen as insufficient was irritating.

"What is it? What's missing? I don't see where anything else could fit into what I've learned…"

"There is one."

White Peach, Thousand Layered White Peach, Thousand Layered Red Peach, Fading Peach, Sweet Peach, Dragon Eye Peach, Cheondo.

I had learned everything, and my power, which was once limited to White Peach, now extended beyond to other techniques.

But something was missing?

"The most important thing is absent."

The old man, mocking me, generated a very weak force of magic on his finger.

Bang!

A sound like a grenade exploding echoed in the air. I widened my eyes.

Such power was produced with magic barely capable of conjuring the simplest spell.

"Explosive power, that is, the most crucial point in completing this martial art. The eighth form. Its name is… currently non-existent."

A technique that could ruin the magic circuit in one's body if used internally due to its explosive nature.

I was able to learn somewhat just by observing.

I emitted a very slight amount of magic in my hand and tried to mimic it.

The old man looked surprised for a moment at this display.

"You, wait-"

Crackling!

Suddenly, the mountaintop was enveloped in brilliance.

A loud sound poured out in short intervals, and dots of light filled the sky, momentarily bringing morning to the forest.

Drip, drip.

The surrounding trees burned, and I dumbly watched my hand, now blackened and dripping with blood.

"...Ah."

My eyes hurt.

Had I not instinctively wrapped my body in magic, I might have been swept away by my own martial art.

The old man looked at me with a face that seemed to say he found it absurd.

"There was a reason it wasn't taught."

I almost carelessly agreed.

The destructive power was dispersed, so it ended at this level, but if I could concentrate that power to a single point, I could achieve power comparable to White Peach with just a handful of magic.

"But it's interesting."

The old man harbored a similar madness-infused laughter to when he first saw me.

"It was created by me, but it seems like it was made just for you."

Chills ran down my skin.

Accompanied by a stinging pain, I regenerated my body. It took quite some time to fully heal the deep burns.

"Normally, this would be mixed into the forms for deployment."

"That's right. It's utterly useless if you can't control it like now."

Magic energy.

I thought the black magic that burst out when deploying Black Path could be called magic energy, but that was all a misconception.

I practiced refining my magic into magic energy while speaking to the old man.

"But why is this considered a form? Aren't forms supposed to be movements?"

"Well, if you attach a name to it, that becomes a form. The methods are much different from the old days."

"...That was said to be the era at the end of the martial world."

The old man didn't particularly deny it. Well, it was easier to refer to it as a form. In this world, martial arts were almost forgotten, so no one would argue.

Yet, having acquired this made it seem like there was enough reason to have come to the past.

'…Once I get used to it.'

I felt I could reach those three, whom I had thought were beyond my grasp.

It was as if a sense that had been blocked until now had suddenly cleared.

Thwack!

At that moment, the old man's pipe struck my head again.

Stunned, I looked at him, and he was warming up with a smile.

"Getting arrogant already? It's too early to be excited."

"Didn't you say we were done for today?"

"I never said that. And if there's a form, naturally, there should be the next step as well."

A joyful face, having found an opponent to fight.

Cheonma, his face bore the fierce look of a war-crazed deity.

Without a word, I wrapped my hands with magic.

Dark weapons emerged between my fingers like thorns.

"Understood."

That day, I took a step closer to Cheondo.

Somehow, a strong conviction surged within me.