Chapter 5
Chapter 5
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: penny
Chapter: 5
Chapter Title: If There Is Change, There Is Also the Unchanging (2)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Damho stepped outside.
His face had grown considerably paler in just a few days. He had secluded himself, lost in the Midheaven Heart Method.
He had memorized it perfectly after only a couple of reads. But Damho didn't stop there—he pored over the Midheaven Heart Method again and again.
While Damho immersed himself in it, Master Hyunso never once opened the door. He knew Damho was deep in a trance.
Damho's expression looked much clearer now that he was out. He had glimpsed the very possibility he so desperately sought within the Midheaven Heart Method.
Nothing was certain yet. There was no guarantee he could achieve what he wanted. But the mere fact that even a sliver of possibility existed set his heart racing.
"Huu!"
It was then, as Damho drew in a deep breath of fresh air.
"Junior brother!"
A clear voice suddenly called out.
He turned to see a woman with a refined air. There was only one woman on Mount Hua who carried the same aura as him.
"Senior sister."
It was Han Soyu.
She approached.
"Is something the matter?"
"No."
"Then why haven't you been around?"
"Hm?"
"You climb up and down Mount Hua every single day, but I haven't seen you these past few days. I was worried."
"Ah, I had some business."
"Really? You're not ill, are you?"
"No."
Han Soyu peered straight into Damho's eyes. Damho met her gaze without flinching. Han Soyu smiled.
"It really is nothing, then. That's a relief."
"Did you come here for that?"
"I had a message to pass along, so I figured I'd check in while I was at it. You haven't heard yet, have you?"
"Heard what?"
"Figures."
A faint crease formed between Han Soyu's brows. She glanced toward Lotus Blossom Peak with a touch of displeasure.
"Senior sister."
"Ah, sorry. Soon, all the first-generation disciples will gather at the True Martial Palace."
"True Martial Palace?"
The True Martial Palace symbolized Mount Hua Sect's martial might. Any disciple who joined Mount Hua dreamed of entering it. But its gates were high and narrow—not just anyone could pass through.
Even among the first-generation disciples, only a rare few could come and go as they pleased. Naturally, it was still beyond Damho's reach.
"But why there?"
"Uncle Sword Sage has finally emerged from seclusion. He commanded all the first-generation disciples to assemble."
A faint blush colored Han Soyu's cheeks. She was that excited.
Immortal Sword Sage was the master of True Martial Palace. He was also the undisputed top swordsman of Mount Hua in this era.
Six years prior, he had entered closed-door cultivation to refine his enlightenment. This was before Damho had even joined Mount Hua. As such, Damho had only heard tales of him, never laid eyes on the man.
The one who had grasped the ultimate essence of Mount Hua swordsmanship.
They said that when he unleashed his blade, plum blossoms bloomed in profusion.
Some even claimed that the current Immortal Sword Sage wielded power comparable to the Three-Year Heavenly Palace Prodigy.
Such was the lofty reputation Immortal Sword Sage commanded.
"He called for the disciples himself?"
"That's right!"
"Why?"
"Probably to impart his insights to them."
Han Soyu's face was flushed bright red.
To receive instruction from Mount Hua's foremost swordsman was a stroke of monumental fortune. The entire sect was abuzz because of it.
"It's not just the first-generation disciples. Later, he'll see to the second-generation ones, and even the lay disciples separately, it seems."
"Hmm."
"So prepare yourself well, junior brother. Who knows? If you catch his eye, he might share insights suited just for you."
The words carried layers of meaning.
Damho nodded silently. Han Soyu let out a small chuckle at his stoic demeanor.
"You're always so impassive... Anyway, I'm off. Someone will come fetch you later, so we'll see each other then."
"Thank you, senior sister."
Han Soyu waved as she walked away.
Damho watched her retreating figure for a long while.
Among the countless people in Mount Hua Sect, Han Soyu was one of the rare few who saw him as he truly was. There was no pity or sympathy in her eyes. She regarded him simply as a fellow disciple of the sect. For that, he was grateful.
"Uncle Sword Sage..."
Damho gazed toward Cloud Platform Peak's summit. Hidden by foliage, he couldn't see it, but the True Martial Palace lay somewhere up there. And Immortal Sword Sage would be there as well.
He had no idea what teachings Immortal Sword Sage might impart, but Damho had no spare attention for it right now.
Their meeting was still in the future. No need to get worked up over it prematurely.
First things first—Damho tied a sandbag around his left ankle. He meant to resume what he had paused upon unexpectedly obtaining the Midheaven Heart Method: climbing up and down Mount Hua.
With the sandbag secured, he descended the mountain. Navigating Mount Hua's sheer cliffs on the way down was even harder than ascending. One misstep, and he'd plummet.
Even the able-bodied found the path grueling, yet Damho descended at a brisk pace. His leg impairment posed no issue.
Five years of grueling effort had honed his sense of balance to an extreme degree. Thanks to that, Damho made it down unscathed.
He paused to catch his breath. Once his breathing steadied somewhat, he began the ascent anew.
Descent demanded supreme balance, while climbing required sturdy leg strength and lung capacity. Damho gritted his teeth and climbed step by step.
Time passed, and Damho's body was drenched in sweat. The sandbag on his left ankle made it all the harder, but he pressed on without stopping.
By the time he reached his quarters, Damho was utterly spent. He collapsed to the ground, gasping raggedly.
"Huff, huff!"
A sour taste filled his mouth, and his heart felt ready to burst. Every muscle screamed in agony. Yet Damho forced himself upright.
After steadying his breath for a moment, he began stretching his limbs. He intended to drill his forms in this exhausted state.
First came the Bamboo Leaf Hand. It was the technique every aspirant in Mount Hua Sect learned at the outset.
He opened with Bamboo Leaf Cleaving Air.
Shick!
Damho's Bamboo Leaf Hand was razor-sharp. His hand sliced through empty space, his waist spinning like a top.
Next came Flying Leaf Across a Thousand Li.
Damho's hand rippled like waves, yet the momentum it exuded was fiercely keen.
Whooong!
The final form followed: Leaf Thrust Piercing the Sun. Damho's hand flashed through the air like lightning.
Damho's movements as he executed Bamboo Leaf Hand flowed gracefully. Yet a blade-like sharpness thrust outward all the while.
His motions reset to the beginning. He unleashed Bamboo Leaf Cleaving Air once more.
The air shimmered as the second form, Flying Leaf Across a Thousand Li, flowed seamlessly into the third, Leaf Thrust Piercing the Sun.
Damho lost track of time, repeating Bamboo Leaf Hand endlessly.
Its hallmark was that it required no special footwork. At first, Damho executed it without moving his feet from the ground at all.
When Bamboo Leaf Hand reached its peak after a long session, Damho cautiously began shifting his legs.
One step forward, then one step back.
A monotonous back-and-forth—hardly what one could call refined footwork. He used his impaired left foot as a pivot to step with his right. Mount Hua elders would have scolded him harshly for such shoddy steps. But for Damho now, it was his best.
Thud!
His face twisted faintly with each step on his left foot.
The visible scars may have healed, but pain still lingered. Still, Damho ignored the ache below his knee.
'This much pain won't stop me.'
Damho stamped down harder with his left foot.
Thud!
In that instant, his momentum shifted.
Bamboo Leaf Hand morphed into Fierce Tiger Fist. The sharp aura grew heavy and ponderous.
Fierce Tiger Fist mimicked a tiger's movements. These days, it was dismissed as mere training for lay disciples, but in truth, it was an exquisitely crafted fist art.
Damho harbored a question.
'Is a tiger's arsenal truly just fangs and claws? Is biting and clawing really its best offense?'
Damho thought not.
'That massive body is a tiger's greatest weapon. The vertigo and intimidation when that weighty mass lunges leave prey frozen. Thus, Fierce Tiger Fist shouldn't merely swing limbs—it must maximize the human body's full potential.'
Shick!
Damho's fist cleaved the air.
To harness Fierce Tiger Fist's ferocious momentum demanded robust leg strength. One had to withstand the intense recoil.
His footwork remained unchanged. Step forward, then swiftly retreat.
When Fierce Tiger Fist crested, Damho's movements abruptly shifted. His fists shot out in all directions.
Six Harmonies Fist.
Alongside Bamboo Leaf Hand and Fierce Tiger Fist, it formed the foundational fist arts of Mount Hua Sect. Its forms were simple, like the others, but it brimmed with explosive force.
Damho forgot his exhaustion, entering a trance as he cycled through the three fist arts in succession.
Among Mount Hua's myriad techniques, these basic three captivated him most.
Five years of daily drilling had ingrained them so deeply he could perform them eyes closed. Damho poured his soul into them now.
No one else in Mount Hua obsessed over these basic fist arts with such fervor. Most craved higher techniques, and the sect boasted plenty of such peerless arts.
"Huuk!"
The clearing echoed only with Damho's ragged breaths and the whoosh of parting air.
Thus did Damho's days flow on.
That night, as Master Hyunso returned to the quarters, he found Damho sprawled on the mat, all but passed out.
Master Hyunso wasn't surprised. It was a sight he'd witnessed daily for five years. Instead, he examined the traces left on the ground.
Damho's footprints marked the clearing. They formed a straight line.
Master Hyunso gazed at Damho with approval. Damho slumbered deeply still.
He sat carefully beside him and began massaging his legs.
"Repetitive routine can breed boredom, but persevering through it with training forges a person strong and steadfast, Hoya."
Master Hyunso kneaded Damho's legs with care.
Five years of repetition had elevated his massage skill to a profound level. He loosened knotted muscles and gently worked the joints.
He paid special attention to Damho's left foot. Being abnormal, it was even more tightly knotted.
Warmth infused Master Hyunso's hands as he massaged the left foot. Feeling it, a smile tugged at the lips of Damho, who slept as if dead to the world.
Only after confirming the taut muscles had softened did Master Hyunso withdraw his hands.
"Whew!"
Master Hyunso rose with a heavy exhale.
The night was deep, but his tasks weren't done. He drew a book from his bosom.
Heavenly Yin Smelting Pill Manual.
It had languished in the sect's Treasure Armory. A tome he now retrieved for Damho's sake, despite having read it long ago.
Master Hyunso studied it until dawn. Damho slept soundly at his side.
***
Damho roused himself.
"Mm!"
His whole body felt refreshed, as if fresh from a bath. As he stretched lazily, he spotted Master Hyunso asleep nearby.
"Master did it again..."
He didn't need to check. He knew Master Hyunso had massaged his acupoints for him.
An unfamiliar book lay open beside Master Hyunso. Damho closed it gently, then carefully carried his master inside.
Only after ensuring Master Hyunso could rest comfortably did Damho step out. Stars still filled the night sky.
Plum blossom scent rode the breeze. Damho settled on the mat amid it and began circulating his energy. Though he'd immersed himself in studying the Midheaven Heart Method these past days, this was his first time actually practicing it.
One might expect anxiety on a first try, but Damho dove into the trance without hesitation.
Before him stretched an uncharted path no one had trod in centuries.
What lay at its end, even Damho could not know.
The plum-scented wind caressed his body softly, but Damho was oblivious.
The Midheaven Heart Method offered no rapid inner energy accumulation. Nor was it as versatile as the Clear Stream Heart Method practiced by core disciples.
True to its name, the Midheaven Heart Method felt weighty. If Clear Stream energy flowed light and ethereal as wind, Midheaven energy was viscous and sluggish as a mire. It was no easy matter to wield.
Beads of sweat soon dampened Damho's brow. A cool breeze blew through, cooling them swiftly.
Damho lost all sense of time, sinking deeper into the Midheaven Heart Method.
He opened his eyes only when the sun crested Lotus Blossom Peak. He had begun at early dawn, yet morning was already upon him.
Finishing his session, Damho shook his head.
"Not easy."
With another method, he could have completed at least three full circulations in that time. Yet with this, he'd managed only one. It built inner energy three times slower. But its density suggested equal levels would yield far greater power.
The issue was how to amass inner energy matching—or surpassing—others.
Damho shook his head.
"I'll need to cut back on sleep even more."
Sleep less than others, cultivate harder. That was his conclusion.
From that day, Damho reduced his sleep further.
He slept a mere hour, then devoted the entire dawn to cultivation. Mornings, he climbed Mount Hua to temper his body. Afternoons and nights, he drilled the Mount Hua techniques he knew.
Thus did Damho's time flow onward.