Discovery of Fire (3)
The next day.
“It’s been a while since I’ve stood here looking out like this.”
Yeon Hojeong, standing atop the platform, gazed down at the training ground. The Myeol Sa Army was lined up there.
They traded grim jokes in private, but now not a single breath could be heard.
Yeon Hojeong glanced at Jegal A-yeon beside him.
“Sleep well?”
Jegal A-yeon murmured softly, her face still shadowed by fatigue.
“Slept for two straight days.”
“Feeling better now?”
“Do I look it?”
“Nah.”
“Then why ask?”
“I know, but snap out of it. Your eyes look like they’re about to shoot hidden weapons.”
“Ugh.”
Fair enough. It was a rare gathering of the entire Myeol Sa Army. No place to show tiredness.
Yeon Hojeong addressed the ranks.
“Everyone eaten?”
“Yes, sir!”
The thunderous roar echoed beyond the training ground, spreading everywhere. It was so loud even Yeon Hojeong instinctively shrank his neck.
What the hell, these guys.
He could feel all sorts of emotions in their voices. The strongest was anticipation.
While he’d been off on a brutal mission, they’d trained under Muk Bi with their lives on the line. Not just drilling in the yard—they’d charged mountain paths on horseback, split into teams for mock mountain battles. Training so fierce it left severe wounds.
Even injured, they’d debate strengths and weaknesses at night, drilling fixes into their bodies for the next round.
Muk Bi’s approach was brilliant. A powerhouse herself, but her grasp of Central Plains martial arts wasn’t deep. Her occasional manryu-gwijong insight shone, but she couldn’t critique every soldier’s arts individually.
Her method for forging the Myeol Sa Army: live combat and unbreakable bonds.
They’ve been tempered well.
If he’d suffered on his mission, they’d staked their lives in training.
Now they finally look like one body.
They’d synced so well that words weren’t needed anymore. But before his mission, this level of discipline hadn’t existed.
“Muk Bi.”
Muk Bi, at the front, lifted her head.
“Yes.”
“You’ve worked hard. Again.”
“Yes.”
Discipline was ironclad, but Muk Bi was still Muk Bi. Even in front of everyone, she gave Yeon Hojeong no special treatment.
That was the Myeol Sa Army. Not half-hearted—their unique edge.
“Alright, long time together, but too nice a day for drinks and snacks. Let’s check how much your individual martial skills have grown.”
Excitement lit the soldiers’ faces. Group drills mimicking real war had honed the unit, but personal growth? Even they weren’t sure.
Now their leader—a transcendent peak expert far beyond later-generation talents—would inspect them. Exactly what they’d craved.
“Paeng Manho, front and center!”
“Hoo. The heat’s intense.”
As the Myeol Sa Army’s dedicated training ground neared, the chilly winter air felt scorching. Jegal Munho smiled.
“Different energy with the boss here. Shows anyone can’t lead them.”
Strolling with hands behind his back, Jegal Munho soon sensed something off in the air.
Hm?
Whoooosh.
The wind carried sharp killing intent. Jegal Munho’s face hardened.
Killing intent? Here, in the Martial Alliance?
Whoosh!
He unleashed his movement art toward the training ground in a flash.
Then—
Boom!
“Gaaah!”
A massive explosion hurled a swordsman skyward, smashing into the training ground wall.
Thud!
No recovery technique—he crashed to the ground, writhing, unable to rise.
“What the…”
Jegal Munho gaped at the swordsman, then scanned the ground.
A young man stood there, massive axe slung over his shoulder.
“Your sword skills are razor-sharp now, but why’ve these new flaws popped up everywhere?”
“Urgh!”
Yun Ho, writhing, finally dragged himself up against the wall. Pale-faced, breathing ragged. Standing seemed impossible.
“Last one.”
Yeon Hojeong eyed Ok Cheong, seated nearby. Ok Cheong rose, tense.
“Please go easy.”
“Good.”
Shing.
Ok Cheong drew his sword smoothly, channeling qi.
Hummmm.
Blue light gleamed on the Wudang representative blade, Songmun Ancient Sword.
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes flashed.
Oh ho?
Ok Cheong’s tense face met his, but his eyes were clearer, deeper than before. Tense, yet not over-rigid. Not slack either—perfect readiness.
Look at this guy.
Mixed Origin Qi rising from the Songmun Ancient Sword felt vast and profound, like a serene sea. Similar to before, yet fundamentally changed.
Qi follows intent, shifts nature with focus. Ok Cheong’s had too.
His old Mixed Origin Qi sought pure Dao. Now, it sharpened murderously for complete martial path.
Yeon Hojeong’s lip curled.
Didn’t expect this.
Among Myeol Sa soldiers, Ok Cheong’s rep outpaced his skill. Disciple of Sword Immortal Tak Muja, one of Sacred Heaven Thirteen Seats—prestige anywhere. Yet he couldn’t block one strike. All show, no substance.
No longer.
Just changing purpose altered his qi’s nature. Then…
Yeon Hojeong nodded.
“Come at me.”
Whoosh!
Ok Cheong lunged instantly. His toe-push was startlingly light, joints incredibly flexible.
Body release!
Ok Cheong swung. Flash! A soft circle—then suddenly a straight slash across.
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes widened.
Claaang!
Vibration raced up Gwang Yong Bu’s shaft—intense.
Ok Cheong wasn’t disappointed. Yeon Hojeong’s arts were off the charts from the start.
Thud! Thud!
His body blurred, reappearing at Yeon Hojeong’s flank. Vision-tricking steps—superb footwork. Elasticity unseen months ago drew fresh admiration.
Qi change alone doesn’t enable this. He’s forged his lower body and core insanely.
Yeon Hojeong swung Gwang Yong Bu without looking back.
Screeeech!
A phenomenal strike. The peerless heavy axe slid sideways along the Taiji pattern from Songmun Ancient Sword—like flawless flower shifting wood grafting.
No mere form—this transcended swordplay into true sword method.
Wudang’s signature: Taiji Insight Sword.
Whoosh!
No follow-up sword after parrying. Recoiling invites gaps.
Blue radiance burst from Ok Cheong’s left hand.
Boom!
Fierce explosion. Wudang’s palm art, Four Phenomena Wind Thunder Palm. Uncharacteristically destructive for one-hit kill.
“Nice.”
Yeon Hojeong wasn’t hit. He snatched the rebounding Gwang Yong Bu left-handed, blocked Wind Thunder Palm right-handed, and gripped Ok Cheong’s hand tight.
“You’ve grown a ton.”
He headbutted.
Crack!
“Guh!”
Blood sprayed from Ok Cheong’s forehead. Close-range, hands locked—brutal, street-thug style rarely seen lately.
No one’d expect Bi-san’s Young Lord to go so savage.
But Ok Cheong didn’t flinch.
Shwick!
Aiming again, Yeon Hojeong released and retreated fast. Ok Cheong’s sword arced toward his groin.
Slice!
His robe hem shredded by the keen ancient sword.
Yeon Hojeong’s eyes blazed.
Boom!
Explosive charge on retreat. He barreled into Ok Cheong at terrifying speed.
Kaboom!
“Urk!”
Monstrous impact—like colliding with a tumbling boulder. Ok Cheong flew three zhang, unleashing Cloud Treading Step to recover.
Whoosh!
Yeon Hojeong, dual-gripping Gwang Yong Bu, smashed down where he’d stood.
Ok Cheong’s eyes turned steely blue.
Kabooooom!
The ground cracked under the blow. Dust billowed.
Hisss.
It settled. Songmun Ancient Sword angled down from high guard.
Blood soaked Ok Cheong’s left shoulder from the shockwave. But he lived.
He’d deflected the halve-you-in-two axe with Taiji Insight Sword.
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
Clang!
Yanking Gwang Yong Bu free, he said, “That’s enough.”
“Huff!”
Ok Cheong panted.
“Thanks for the bout.”
Injury severe, but his voice steady. Shoulder blood even staunched by surging Mixed Origin Qi.
From start to end, flawless martial poise.
Yeon Hojeong scanned around.
“Everyone see that?”
Soldiers stared blankly at Ok Cheong. Even training partners hadn’t realized his leap.
Yeon Hojeong tsked.
“To gain one thing, lose another. But chasing combat’s essence while forgetting your art’s core? That’s inverting priorities.”
“……”
“You all wielded hyper-practical arts. Sloppy with errors. But not Ok Cheong. He layered combat sense atop Wudang’s foundation, forging his own martial path.”
“……”
“This is training and real war unified. I know you worked hard, but neglecting your essence? Shameful.”
Soldiers bowed heads. Nothing to say.
Yeon Hojeong eyed Ok Cheong.
“Ok Cheong.”
“Yes, Army Lord.”
“Good work. Impressive. Keep it up, and explosive growth’s coming soon. No doubt.”
Ok Cheong smiled.
“Thanks to you, sir.”
Yeon Hojeong snorted.
“Your sweat’s on me how?”
To Muk Bi: “Give ’em a break.”
“Yes. Wait—where you headed?”
“Yeah.”
Yeon Hojeong eyed the gate beyond the ground. Jegal Munho watched, face full of awe.
“Guess the mad bastard dragged you here. Figured the time was right, but didn’t expect this soon.”