Martial Arts Are Way Too Easy (1): The Oral Formula

Any martial art's core was captured in its oral formula—a riddle and its own solution.

Even if you spied the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠exact movements by chance, without the oral formula explaining their meaning, you couldn't wield the technique properly.

But the reverse was also true.

Just a string of words in an oral formula alone wouldn't let you learn the martial art.

That was the common wisdom.

But Cheon Do-yeon existed outside that realm.

The moment she recited the first line of the Heukam Myeolgeop Jang oral formula that Heukcheonje had taught her, her consciousness was sucked into another heart image.

And within it, Cheon Do-yeon saw.

It's cold. Damp. Dark.

A man stood in the rainy night.

His hands were red. Covered in blood. In a world of pure black, only his hands burned vivid crimson.

In his arms lay a woman. The blood was hers. She was his wife.

Ahh.

Filthy. So filthy.

This world's evils are ugly. Humanity's desires are vile. The tongues of those who sell out the gods are revolting.

So ugly, so filthy, so repulsive that he couldn't bear to keep his eyes open.

If the world was this horrific, better it all be drowned in ink. I will be that brush.

The man discarded the woman's corpse.

His hand swept down from above, and the sky turned black.

His palms spread to the sides, and the earth plunged into darkness.

His hands thrust forward, and the light went out.

Vanish, all of you. Be gone. This lord shall annihilate you all.

"Urraaaaaagh!!"

Cheon Do-yeon's hands mimicked the man's movements from the vision.

Heukam Myeolgeop Jang, 2nd Stance - Tribulation Fire Sweep Shatter.

A palm strike laden with massive inner energy slammed into the featureless face of the boss monster.

KABOOOOOM!!!

It didn't stop there. Now her hands swept down from above.

The movements were copied from the vision. The oral formula came straight from the technique's true inheritor.

6th Stance - Falling Thunder Scorched Grass.

Neither the 2nd Stance Tribulation Fire Sweep Shatter nor the 6th Stance Falling Thunder Scorched Grass were perfect.

But they were enough.

Cracks spiderwebbed across the boss monster's mask-like face from the successive blows.

The true name and grade were obscured, as if painted over with ink.

But it rippled, revealing a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠glimpse of the secret to Cheon Do-yeon.

But Cheon Do-yeon didn't care what the boss monster's true name was or its grade.

If she couldn't kill it, it would kill her. In a way, the purest relationship there was.

"Die!! Behind you too!!!!"

She thrust her rigid hand blade like a sword.

CRUNCH!!

Shattering something human-like yet alien, her hand blade pierced straight through the head and out the back of the skull.

Even so, the boss monster swung its sword.

Her hand blade pinned its body in place. No dodging.

But then.

"—"

The boss monster froze mid-motion.

Lifting her head in shock, Cheon Do-yeon saw something even more unbelievable.

The boss monster backed away on its own, then clasped its hands together in prayer.

"…?"

What the hell? A preparatory stance for a new attack?

But it didn't move.

Like it was waiting.

Whoosh.

The boss monster's body began crumbling into dust and vanishing.

For some reason, she felt this was her last chance.

She clasped her own hands in kind.

The boss monster bowed its head lower, then fully dissipated.

The lone sword clattered down, embedding point-first in the stone chamber floor.

Hilt facing her. Like it wanted her to take it.

"…Tch."

Nam Yeon peered down the hole where the porter had fallen, then stood up.

"Wrong. Can't see the bottom at all."

It was a deep pit.

Go down there, and something might be waiting? Maybe. Or nothing at all.

Maybe descending to the bottom was the key to clearing it. Or it could be a meaningless hole. Or the opposite—a trap at the end designed to kill them.

That's what gates were.

Unimaginably bizarre places.

Impossible to predict, no matter how hard you tried.

Nam Yeon raised her sword.

'Let's check the grade?'

'Not even a single letter shows up?'

But that fact only filled Nam Yeon with joy.

There were two main reasons an item's grade couldn't be viewed inside a gate.

One: some effect blocking its identity.

The other: the item's grade was far higher than the viewer's level.

'Knew it was a famed sword already, but this might be the real deal—a divine weapon!'

Either way, it wasn't her call. She'd take it to the sect leader.

"S-Senior Sister Nam Yeon… the porter's… search…"

Joo Yeon, a fellow first-rate disciple of Dobongpa, spoke cautiously.

"…Search?"

Nam Yeon growled.

"What do you want me to do about it? You wanna go down there yourself?"

"That's…"

"Hey. Once you're in gate business, you risk your life for the big bucks. Time for that porter to pay up."

The words 'Shouldn't Senior Sister collect that life debt?' nearly reached Joo Yeon's throat.

Nam Yeon stood fully.

"Hurry up and clear this place so we can get out."

Clear the gate and make it vanish, and no one would ever find the body inside.

Far more reliable than dumping in the sea or a lake—a method often used for kills that absolutely couldn't leave a corpse behind.

Joo Yeon was timid.

"S-Senior Sister."

So she couldn't say it outright and tried criticizing indirectly.

"As Daoists, we should pursue the Dao…"

Put another way, even her timid self couldn't stay silent in this situation.

"…Hey."

Nam Yeon's voice chilled.

"You think I 'found' this for my own fun? No. It's so our sect can eat well and live large!"

Thud! The sword sheath's tip jabbed Joo Yeon's solar plexus.

"Guh…!"

Joo Yeon clutched her midsection and crouched.

She'd instinctively circulated inner energy for defense, but the vital point hit left her trembling like a leaf.

"Dao? Fine, love the Dao. But what's the Dao? Natural order, right? And it's natural for the weak to bow to the strong!"

Whack! She swung the sheathed sword at Joo Yeon's head this time.

"Guh…!"

"That bastard should've just handed it over nice and quiet! Him yapping about finding it first? That's against the Dao! And you tell me to follow the Dao!?"

Whack! Whack! Thwack!!

Nam Yeon kept beating Joo Yeon. Head, back, shoulder, head, arm.

"You my senior sister? Did you join the sect before me!?"

Whack!! Thraaaack!!!!

"You know the Dao better than me!? Who the hell are you to lecture me!!"

She hadn't drawn the sword—just beating with the sheath.

But that was already like clubbing with a wooden beam or steel pipe.

Joo Yeon was holding out only because she was a murim warrior; a normal person would've been gravely injured or even dead.

Whack! Whack! Whack!!

The brutal beating sounds horrified Dobongpa's second-rate disciples. But none dared intervene between two first-rates.

"You bitch! How dare you— to your senior—!!"

The moment Nam Yeon gripped the sword hilt to draw it.

"!?"

Nam Yeon whipped around, sword still gripped.

'Cleared all of a sudden?'

Gates never dissipated on their own once spawned.

So who cleared it?

Someone already inside before them?

Rumble…!

The gate sealed shut, dumping Dobongpa's murim warriors onto the mountain path between Dobongsan and Suraksan where the entrance had appeared.

"S-S-Senior… Sister…"

One second-rate disciple trembled, pointing shakily in a direction.

All eyes followed the finger.

At its end stood a woman of chilling beauty.

Peach-blossom hair. Snow-white skin. Piercing eyes.

How could a human be that beautiful? It was inhuman, unreal.

"…Fairy lady."

Someone's mutter voiced every Daoist's heart.

Fairy. The female immortals revered in Daoism.

If the peach-haired woman wasn't mortal but a fairy, it made sense. Her beauty was that transcendent.

But the fairy was drenched ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in blood, one eye squinted shut.

"…Hey."

The fairy leveled her sword at Nam Yeon.

"Give me back my sword, you fucking bitch."

…Do modern fairies curse like that too?