12. Seonsul
Dohyean pushed the three scrolls spread across the table toward them, one by one. Written on each scroll were the particular problems its owner faced, along with a method for solving them.
Seo Yu-ri had never received proper support as a child. The potential of her spiritual organ had never been fully realized, and the total reserve of spiritual power she had managed to build up was small.
Kwon Na-yeong, though she herself didn't know the details, had once had her danjeon shattered in an accident. Her family had barely managed to restore it, but the aftermath left the walls far too thin. Because no one could say when it might rupture again, even with her family's backing there was no way for her to accumulate spiritual power at all.
There were two ways to solve both of their problems. Give them the formulas Dohyeon had improved upon so they could cast arts one tier above their limit — or pass on the Seonsul he had received from his master.
Since Seonsul drew in natural qi from the outside world and channeled it through the meridians, the size of one's danjeon or the depth of one's reserves simply didn't matter.
"As you can see, there are two options. I just want to ask you one thing."
Dohyeon spoke slowly, meeting each of their eyes in turn.
"Are you satisfied just casting 3rd-tier arts? Is graduating from the academy really enough for you?"
The discrimination and persecution Seo Yu-ri and Kwon Na-yeong had endured over the years was by no means a light thing. Yu-ri had been ostracized for the entire two years since she'd entered the academy. With no family standing behind her, it had only been that much worse.
Na-yeong, thanks to the Andong Kwon name, had at least been spared open harassment — but unlike Yu-ri, she'd been hearing backhanded remarks and whispered slanders since childhood.
Unable to bear those stares any longer — or desperate to escape them — that was why these two stood before him now.
But would that really be enough?
"The first option is the safe one."
Dohyeon pointed to one of the improved formulas written on the scroll.
"If you use my improved formulas, your spiritual power consumption drops, which means most arts become usable one tier higher. For specific spells, you might even manage two tiers."
Yu-ri's eyes went to the scroll. This was what she had wanted all along. It was why she had been the first of the students to approach Dohyeon, and why she'd gone so far as to call the lowly laborer "Master."
To cast arts like everyone else, get into the research lab, and graduate without incident. That alone would have been enough for her.
"But that's where it ends."
This time Dohyeon pointed at the fan he had received from Jeon Woo-chi.
"Now there's a new option. Seonsul."
Natural qi existed everywhere in the world. It didn't matter how little spiritual power you had or how small your danjeon was — you could simply draw it in from outside. In theory, it would erase both of their weaknesses while amplifying the exceptional talent they'd always possessed.
"Of course, there's a risk."
Dohyeon added it matter-of-factly.
"You could end up hunted by the cult trying to resurrect the Outer Gods."
Their expressions hardened. This wasn't a warning about difficult training or injuries to the body.
Seonsul was a Taoist art that had vanished long ago — the legacy Jeon Woo-chi, who had died defending the seal on the Outer Gods, left behind for future generations. Learning it didn't simply mean becoming stronger. It meant sharing in her existence and her inheritance, and becoming a target of every faction that coveted them.
"I don't know whether the Taoist establishment still hunts Seonsul even now, but the Outer God factions will certainly come for it."
"Aye. The Taoist establishment will hunt it, since it tramples on their hold on power, and those Outer God lackeys will come sniffing after my traces. I was the last inheritor of Seonsul, you see."
Jeon Woo-chi had stepped forward to confirm it. What surprised him was that she hadn't said a single word about him teaching Seonsul however he pleased.
When Dohyeon looked at her with a puzzled expression, an incredulous look came back at him.
"Why are you staring at me like that?"
"I thought you'd tell me not to teach it as I please."
Seonsul was Woo-chi's legacy. Handing it down to students she'd met only recently, with no objection at all — that was surprising. Even if the oath made it hard to divulge her secrets, wasn't having her own mysteries laid bare more than a little presumptuous?
Woo-chi snorted.
"I didn't make it in the first place. The moment I handed it to you, it became yours to do with as you like."
"Oh. Suddenly you look pretty cool."
"Well, having reached the hour of my death, I did find myself regretting it. What if I had given more of what was mine to those around me, and built myself a faction?"
Woo-chi gazed at empty air with a bitter expression.
"Back then, I thought I was enough on my own. I was far too brilliant to serve under anyone, and being responsible for somebody was a bother."
Coming from Jeon Woo-chi, it was entirely believable. She was the kind of person who had spent a lifetime roaming as she pleased, toying with the government offices and dueling famed Taoists.
But it must have been Woo-chi's misfortune that the first — and last — person to make her feel inadequate appeared when they did. By then, it would have been far too late to build her own faction.
"So. What will you do?"
Dohyeon didn't push either of them toward a choice. Their lives were hanging on this decision, so it wasn't something he could make for them.
A brief silence settled over the warehouse.
The first to move was Kwon Na-yeong.
"I will learn Seonsul."
Dohyeon regarded her with slightly widened eyes. With her family's shadow to shelter under, he'd assumed she was the more likely to choose the safe path.
Or — no. Maybe that was precisely why she'd chosen Seonsul. A great family meant great expectations, and the weight of them must have been crushing.
"Let me be clear. I will never be some middling, half-baked person. And I have no intention of letting the family I love be stolen away by a cadet branch. For that to happen, I must become a Taoist worthy of my family — not a mediocre one."
Her tone was calm, but the ambition inside it was something she had no intention whatsoever of hiding.
Only then did Dohyeon begin to understand Kwon Na-yeong. She didn't merely want to escape discrimination — she wanted to stand before the very people who called her a defective product as the most flawless heir of them all.
"My life is more than enough to stake as the wager."
Na-yeong looked at Dohyeon and smiled. There was something precarious in it, yet the brightness within was an utterly unguarded laugh.
"Though until I met you, Master, it wasn't a particularly valuable life to begin with."
Dohyeon turned to the remaining student.
"I'll learn Seonsul too."
"Weren't you satisfied just graduating?"
"I was, originally…"
Lately, whenever Yu-ri closed her eyes, she saw the Mountain Lord. That moment when she had poured out every last drop of her spiritual power and still failed to leave a single proper wound on it. Without Dohyeon, she never would have come back alive.
"I only made it back breathing thanks to you anyway, Sabu. You need people, don't you? Count me in."
"Sabu?"
"Everyone else calls you Master, so I want to feel a little special. I'm your first disciple, after all!"
Yu-ri shamelessly puffed out her chest. Dohyeon looked at her in disbelief. She'd been obsessing over the pettiest things lately.
Shaking his head, he channeled spiritual power into his fingertip and began tracing a formula in the empty air.
"This is the core formula of Seonsul. From now on, we'll be studying it together."
"Hold on a moment. I'll just teach it myself."
"Oh — then thank you kindly, Master."
"I was feeling bad about only showing you the formula last time. Ahem. Simply put, Seonsul is the art of gathering the qi scattered throughout nature and using it as your own."
Jeon Woo-chi drew her small fan from her robes and slowly waved it. Faint light began to gather from all around — blue, red, and yellow hues mingling into one, circling about the fan.
"Whoa…"
Yu-ri's mouth hung open.
Woo-chi savored the stares for a moment, then lowered her hand. The natural qi that had gathered around the fan scattered in every direction.
"But each person's spiritual power carries a different nature. Swallow natural qi into your body raw, and the clashing energies will tear your channels apart. That's why a refining process is required."
"How do I refine it?"
"By feel."
Dohyeon's face went momentarily blank.
"Sense the flow of the natural qi around you. Pick out the energies you can accept from the ones you must discard."
"Is there a slightly more concrete explanation?"
At Dohyeon's question, Woo-chi tilted her head.
"How would I explain a thing like that? By the water's edge, water qi runs strong; in the mountains, wood and earth qi. It shifts with the weather, the hour, the season. You have no choice but to feel it and adjust as you go."
So — natural qi was a jumble of countless heterogeneous energies, and one was supposed to tune the internal mixing ratio by feel, refine it, then match it to the nature of one's own body and accept only as much as one could hold?
Was this something a human being could actually do?
"I'll give it a try."
Dohyeon recalled the formula and slowly activated it. He sensed the flow of natural qi and drew the energies he needed toward himself. Then, refining them, he matched them to his own spiritual wavelength and began receiving them into his meridians.
Fsskt!
A tiny spark cracked at his fingertip, and he felt his meridians twisting.
"Kghk."
Dohyeon cut the formula off immediately.
"I don't expect success on the first try."
Woo-chi clicked her tongue.
"It took me a good half a day just to refine natural qi properly. That's exactly why I took you as my disciple."
"What do you mean?"
"You've used Seonsul before, boy."
"I have?"
"Aye. Imperfect as it was, when you took down the Mountain Lord, you pulled it off in a single go."
Watching her grin, Dohyeon felt the shock land. So that had been Seonsul back then. The concept was identical — drawing in the surrounding qi and receiving it through his own channels.
How on earth did I succeed that time?
While Dohyeon was racking his brain to resurrect the memory of that day, Yu-ri shuffled forward hesitantly.
"May I give it a try too?"
"Go on, try it. I'll help you."
Yu-ri folded quietly into a cross-legged position and slowly set Seonsul in motion. Behind her, Woo-chi rested her hand on her back and opened the formula up through the qi-gathering stage, and Yu-ri carefully stretched out her hands. The natural qi scattered around them began gathering at her fingertips.
She stayed still for a long while, eyes closed.
"This one's way too cold…"
Cold qi surged in.
"And this one stings. Don't want it."
Fire qi pushed in as well. The energies ebbed and were drawn back, over and over. Then, without a moment's hesitation, Yu-ri began pulling it into her own channels and circulating it.
Saaaah…
A faint blue light began to swirl and flow around her.
"What the—?!"
Woo-chi shouted, her eyes gone round as saucers.
"Did it work?"
Yu-ri asked sheepishly as she opened her eyes. Judging by the way Woo-chi was too stunned even to form words, she had clearly succeeded.
Something that had taken even Woo-chi half a day, done in a single attempt — and it hadn't even taken an hour.
Hah. Talent.
Dohyeon stared at Yu-ri, utterly deflated. Just how much of a genius must the kids who used to bully her have been?