The Rolling Stone That's Way Too Damn Big
I followed the sect leader and the elders to the training grounds, where first- and second-generation disciples had gathered around the edges. With the sect leader standing boldly in the center, it looked like he planned to be my sparring partner.
An S-rank master going easy on me? Jackpot.
"We now commence the inauguration ceremony for the 36th generation disciple of the great Mudang Sect, Myeong-do. Step forward."
I shrugged and walked out calmly. From here on out, I'd live with pride and die with pride if it came to that.
"I'll yield three moves to you—give it everything you've got!"
The sect leader barked the words and began radiating his aura. He was holding back just enough that I could handle it without getting wrecked. But even toned down, this was the pressure of a Fire Realm expert. I immediately drew up my fighting spirit throughout my body.
Cheers erupted from the clueless second-gen disciples, followed by gasps of awe from the first-gen ones.
"Whoa... Is the senior brother already at the Peak realm?"
"His aura before seemed only First-rate..."
Swallowing a laugh inside, I steadied my mind and began slowly circling the sect leader. This was all for show from the start. Sure enough, he deliberately left an opening, and I lunged right at him.
No half-assed attack would work, so I channeled my primal energy right away. I closed in on the seemingly defenseless sect leader in a flash and threw a wild right hook at his side.
His eyes tracked my every move like a damn stalker.
What is this, a horror game?
His sword whipped out, perfectly positioned to block my arm's path. Some "yield," huh? I twisted my arm's angle on the fly, trying to snatch the blade mid-swing, but a faint sword aura began to coat it.
'Pull back if you don't wanna get hurt,' he's saying without words.
Ignoring the silent warning, I poured mana into my hand aura and detonated my body's magic for a burst of acceleration, trusting in Iron Man's durability. Blue and purple sparks flew amid the surging energy wave, but I clamped down on his sword with grim determination.
One solid hit incoming.
The moment his blade twitched at my unexpected grip strength and unscratched arm, I thrust out my left fist—only for his hand to meet it head-on.
Let's see you sweat, old man.
BOOM!!!
Feeling the insane rebound and the ghostly sword aura crawling up my arm, I leaped back fast. As the dust settled, the sect leader's right arm looked annoyingly unscathed, contrary to my hopes.
"One move left."
He strolled out of the dust cloud like it was nothing, pulling his sword free with a cheap yank while separately blocking my left thrust with his other hand. Total power trip, like it was second nature. I sighed and glanced at my right arm—somehow, despite Iron Man, it was gashed up bad.
Just a lot of blood, no major damage.
I ripped a long strip from my good left sleeve, tied it tight around the wound, and ramped up my aura again. The sect leader's smile deepened.
Perverted old geezer.
Whether one move or three, it didn't matter. To a Fire Realm master, defense forms were as good as attacks—they just didn't strike first. All talk about "manners," my ass.
His towering, immovable stance pissed me off to no end.
Fucking self-righteous orthodox pricks.
I charged again without hesitation, mixing feints at his neck and groin before aiming for his chest. To him, it must've looked like a kid's play; he ignored the fakes, twisted his torso to dodge, and yielded the final move.
Here it comes!
I heightened my senses across my body, and sure enough, his sword sliced toward my right arm. I rode the rotation from my extended right arm, swinging my left elbow into the blade.
CLANG!
The sword didn't even budge—it absorbed my elbow's force smoothly, fluttered like a ribbon, then reversed to slash at my legs. They said he pursued ultimate softness, but this swordplay was freakishly fluid, like stirring porridge. Goosebumps crawled up my spine.
What kind of Taoist sword is this? Serial killer shit.
Realizing I couldn't dodge, I straightened my stance and shifted my feet, but an unpleasant slice grazed my thigh.
SKREEECH!!!
I backed off far and checked—blood was pouring from my thigh. Thank fuck for Iron Man. I tore off my shirt and wrapped it tight. Watching me, the sect leader assumed his sword stance.
The wound wasn't deep thanks to Iron Man, but he'd sensed my mana draining from full-power primal energy use. To a Peak expert, sword aura was a killing move. I'd lasted this long only because of my awakener's overwhelming physical stats and body durability—unlike these pure internal energy users.
Who in this world could stand toe-to-toe with a Fire Realm master, even if they went easy, at just Peak realm?
Just land one good hit, you old fuck.
As he formed his stance, I drew up my remaining mana and fighting spirit. Sweat poured down from the tension, and his sword surged forward, unleashing a massive sword aura straight at me.
To hurl a blade aura that size meant Superb-level skill, not mere Peak. Seeing my freakishly tough body, he'd cranked up the intensity. Eyes wide, I seized the split-second opening.
The sword aura rushed at me in an instant. I slackened every muscle in my body all at once.
With my left hand rising softly... but faster than anything, I traced a Tai Chi circle, caressing the aura. The ferocious energy raced from my fingertips through my body.
Fuck. That hurts like hell.
Grinding my teeth, I fed the aura ripping through me into an amplified Tai Chi flow. Only then did the sect leader's sword aura slowly dissipate.
A metallic tang of blood filled my mouth.
The massive energy flow obeyed me now, sinking to my stance foot. Coaxing it with my mana, it climbed back up through my waist, shoulder, and arm, condensing in my right fist before exploding out.
A violet dragon silhouette coiled around my body like a serpent.
With a natural mana burst, my palm strike shot forward.
Sipdan-geum—Modified First Form: Dual Pole Flood Dragon.
The immense energy writhing around me unleashed through my right palm. This first form of Sipdan-geum turned the opponent's mana against them in a counterattack. Executing it off a master's sword aura made my joints throb and my vision blur, but the shock on the sect leader's face was pure satisfaction.
The bolt-like palm blast slammed into him.
KABOOM!!!
The aftermath dwarfed the previous clash. The elders around the grounds unleashed their auras to settle the chaos.
As the swirling dust cleared, the sect leader emerged.
What a cheap bastard.
Sure enough, he was a total scumbag. His sword gleamed with a starry galaxy aura that stole your gaze on sight.
Sword... glow.
Sword aura blooming mid-fight at Peak realm was straight-up Superb mastery. The crowd buzzed with awe, grasping the implication: to face me, you'd need at least Superb.
Annoying as hell, but not a bad debut, right?
I straightened my bloodied body and gave a formal fist salute to the sect leader. No need for words. I was a man of pride now. A top Mudang disciple couldn't act like a punk, after all.
Impressed by my overwhelming skill and dignified bearing, the sect leader nodded and spoke.
"With this, we conclude the inauguration ceremony for senior disciple Myeong-do."
Snap!
The disciples saluted in perfect unison. Like a damn drill team—impressive.
These guys were my underlings now.
"Mudang disciples, treat Myeong-do as senior brother and grand senior uncle without fail. Furthermore, Myeong-do will succeed Elder Hyeon-gong in the Ujin Hall, overseeing Mudang's martial arts."
I nodded at the order to improve techniques and train disciples, following Hyun-chung Jin-in's precedent. What a gig—free rein over the scripture pavilion. Play it right, and I could dictate even the underlings' power levels.
"Understood!!!"
With the rites done, the sect leader and elders turned and left. As second-gen disciples bustled to clean up and get back to work, the first-gen crew approached me.
"First-gen disciples Myeong-hwi, Myeong-jin, Myeong-hwa, and Myeong-ho pay respects to senior brother!"
Their crisp discipline drew a satisfied grin from me.
"The sect leader already introduced me, so I'll skip it. First off, can someone show me to the herb hall? He went easy, but fuck, that still hurt like a bitch."
My joke lightened the mood, and sensing I wasn't a hardass, the first-gen disciples smiled and chattered.
"Incredible, senior brother! How'd you hold your own against the sect leader, a Fire Realm master?"
"Hold my own? I was just clowning around. Speaking of, the sect leader and your masters will probably pass on something important to you. It's the final teaching of my master, the Divine Palm of Mudang—listen up."
I subtly leaked info on Hyun-chung Jin-in's Demonic Cult countermeasures, and their eyes lit up like kids at candy. Bunch of gangsters under those Taoist robes—what "righteous sect" bullshit? Already frustrated with my heavy lower half from Mudang's background, I sighed inwardly.
"Get back to your duties. For precepts or sect matters, hit the herb hall first, then I'll call you later. Dismissed."
"Yes, senior brother!"
As the first-gen scattered, I snuck a glance at Myeong-hwa the female Taoist's swaying hips before heading out myself.
Wonder if she inherited good meridians.