True Martial Hammer and Father's Matchmaking
I can wield two kinds of power. One is mana, and the other is internal energy.
Mana is the force hunters manipulate, while internal energy is what martial artists command. These two powers center on the heart and the dantian, respectively, manifesting at my will.
Though mana and internal energy are clearly distinct, I instinctively realized they share the same underlying context. This insight came from my training under Han Kangwoo.
That's why I can use mana like internal energy, or internal energy like mana. I can even blend the two.
To explain the differences very, very roughly: internal energy manifests incredibly fast, making it effortless to wield directly, but mana takes longer to activate—though its sheer volume makes it ideal for versatile techniques.
In short, internal energy suits close-quarters melee combat, where speed is paramount in martial forms, while mana excels in ability-based techniques with high destructive power. Sure, it's an oversimplification, but that's the vibe.
By properly mixing these disparate forces, I can overcome their individual weaknesses. Of course, depending on the blend ratio or technique, it might backfire and reduce efficiency.
Let's start light.
Sparring with my master is, as expected, close-range. What she taught me was KHC, after all—a martial art designed for hand-to-hand against monsters.
I activated Holy Gauntlet. My fists glowed with radiant light, as if blessed by the gods themselves.
Even armed, Master's response was subdued—a perfect ready stance. She was confident in her speed.
Approach like a bee—fast!
I closed in with swift footwork the instant Holy Gauntlet activated, expelling a burst of internal energy from the balls of my feet. Like jet-engine shoes, I bridged the five-meter gap in a flash.
Footwork is the foundation of battle. Under Han Kangwoo, I'd internalized that truth.
He dodged my strike with a single step, then countered with a half-step advance. Just observing his footwork taught me distance control.
Even a temple dog recites poetry after three years. I'm no dog—I needed less.
I attacked swiftly but didn't commit fully, extending my fist while tracking Master's movements.
Observe to predict, predict to judge, judge to pursue. A macro-level skill honed over the past six months.
Shh!
One step sideways!
I desperately shadowed her motion. The twitch of subtle muscles, the limited patterns of human anatomy, the constraints of optimized actions—they all foretold her next move in vivid detail.
Yes, I'd grown stronger. The techniques and knowledge drilled into my body were manifesting perfectly in real combat.
Like a complex puzzle snapping into place effortlessly. At this rate, I might even land a clean hit without tricks.
I twisted my straight, awl-like punch sideways. I felt Master's body hesitate for a split second. I'd pierced her guard.
Shh!
My guided fist sliced empty air toward her—regrettably. She'd predicted my predicted trajectory.
Our fight was a game of reading intentions. Body against body, mind against mind. My movements were sharp as an awl; hers, vast and unyielding as Buddha's palm. Naturally, she had the superior energy reserves.
Attacks aren't landing at all...
She was still a half-beat ahead. Her restraint was pure composure.
Master's sparkling eyes fixed on me as she spoke, her face lit with childlike joy at an unexpected gift.
"Impressive. To think you've grown this strong!"
The assault wasn't over. I clamped my mouth shut, focusing on the attack while reading her every twitch—that took all my concentration.
Holy Missile!
If close-range fails, go ranged. KHC isn't my only tool.
One fist as missile, the other as punch—classic pincer move.
Of course, Master wouldn't allow it, but narrowing her options reduced my calculations.
She evaded the light barrage effortlessly, barely moving—like the missiles passed through her.
But the homing light curved back toward her. I'd added guidance to Holy Missile.
As it struck from behind, I rearmed my fist and seized her front. Approach like a bee, strike like an awl.
A strike no ordinary person could perceive, one that'd daze even seasoned martial artists on impact. Yet Master swatted the incoming orb with mana-charged hands and tilted her head to deflect my punch.
Eyes in the back of her head. Her acute senses probably rivaled sight everywhere.
She closed the gap ghost-like, swift and sharp. Instinctively, I punched. She caught it smoothly.
First time in our spar—she'd blocked instead of dodging.
Not because she couldn't evade. She just wanted to feel my power firsthand.
I pivoted on my grounded left leg, twisting my body wide.
True Martial Hammer
The core KHC kick: Martial Hammer.
Its essence is mana circulation—wrap the leg like a cloak for devastating force. A mana-boosted kick rivals a hundreds-of-kilos hammer blow.
My newly mastered True KHC added a twist: internal energy converged to a point and erupted outward. Eagle-dive speed plus pufferfish-venom lethality.
"!?"
Master instantly sensed the power, crossing her arms. Not mere defense—mana surged from her, felt on my skin. Reinforced forearms.
Is that KHC too?
Thud!
The dull impact echoed impossibly through the training hall—not flesh on flesh.
She blocked with crossed arms like steel. Even True Martial Hammer couldn't breach. I rebounded instead.
"Remarkable. That Martial Hammer... it holds principles even I don't know."
Her face brimmed with ecstasy.
Head tilted, eyes glazed like she'd indulged, cheeks cupped in palms with a lewd smile. Eerily captivating, like the background tinted purple. Straight out of a manga—a heroine slightly unhinged.
"How'd you do it? I'm dying to know, disciple! Tell me!"
She bounced toward me, forgetting the spar.
"Tell me! How'd you pull that off?!"
"Uh, that was..."
"Enough!"
A thunderous roar erupted beside us. Master froze like she'd glimpsed Medusa's gaze.
*-*-*
That booming voice seized our attention. Master sighed, turning with evident irritation.
She knew the owner. This was her home, after all. I had a good guess too.
Is that Kim Geon-yong, the 2-rank dungeon hunter?
A man with earthworm-thick tendons bulging on his forearms stood arms crossed, broad-faced and grinning. His playful vibe oddly evoked Cheonhwa. The overwhelming presence matched.
He approached slowly. Master raised her voice in protest.
"Father! Didn't I say not to enter when I'm using it!?"
"Hah! That's too much, Minyoung. Can't I roam my own house freely?"
"I'm training my disciple right now! Respect that!"
"I'm your father and your master. So your disciple's my grand-disciple."
Kim Geon-yong stated it shamelessly. A nonchalance absent in Master. Hard to believe they were parent and child.
He stepped before me. At over 190cm with a steel-hard build, his presence was intimidating. He exuded beastly aura.
His honed muscles bulged through his clothes—no need to flex. Even baggy attire looked child-sized on him. From the sleeve gap, a blackened, decayed-tree scar peeked.
A scar?
"Curious who'd melt our lofty daughter's heart enough for a disciple. You, huh? That Martial Hammer makes her choice clear."
He boomed heartily.
"Mind showing me again? That Martial Hammer you just used."
I snapped alert. Kim Geon-yong was Master's father. If things progressed with her, I'd see him often. Scoring points now wasn't bad.
"Of course."
I nodded. No issue.
Master watched with idol-fan sparkle. Burdensome, but from her? Fine. I assumed position with measured tension.
Anchor one foot, slowly circulate mana and internal energy. Focus wholly on the leg, brush air with the other like painting.
The kick is just part of Martial Hammer. Its core: the massive energy writhing at my toe. As the foot swept, mana and internal energy surged down to the tip.
Whoosh!
Textbook-perfect. No target, so it looked ordinary—but on flesh, bones shatter; on wood, it crumbles like cookie; on soft iron, it'd leave a print.
The Kim duo watched intently. Master still hadn't grasped the essence despite genius. Even she couldn't decode a twice-seen technique instantly. She's no copy-ninja.
But Kim Geon-yong smiled faintly. He'd taught her, with richer experience. He pierced the principle faster. Experience rules.
"Converging mana to a point, resonating it outward—like a resonance explosion. Brilliant! Condensing mana this finely takes years; chaining it into technique? Genius!"
He hadn't clocked mana vs. internal energy difference. Unavoidable—they knew nothing of neigong. Like explaining quantum physics to high-school physics kids.
"Ahh! Father! I was figuring it out myself!"
Spoiled, Master shot him a resentful glare. I chuckled inwardly at her unexpected vulnerability to Dad.
"A true genius, Minyoung. This one's the real deal."
"I know. That's why I took him as disciple."
They were off-base, but I let the misconception stand. Suited me fine.
Kim Geon-yong extended a massive hand. Handshake.
I gripped it. No childish squeeze—he just held and shook lightly. Decent guy. Good.
"Hahaha! I like you. How about marrying my daughter? Our clan welcomes geniuses like you."
"F-Father! What kind of sudden—?!"
He was straight-ball incarnate. And clicked with me too well.
Whoa! 2-rank hunter and a total bro!
"Your sister's wed already. Can't let you stay the old maid. How old this year?"
"J-Just 40 now."
"'Just'? Your sis gave me grandkids. My one wish: marry off this stubborn girl!"
"B-But even if... marriage this sudden..."
"Time to quibble? Women snag good men like ghosts. Your mom did. Heh. Don't wanna be concubine later—grab him quick. Miss the bus, you're just waving at fools."
Age brings wisdom. Father-in-law's unsolicited backup? Gold. Owe him a fine bottle later.
He strode out like a storm passing. I didn't mind the chaos.
Master glanced sideways, face flushed crimson.
"D-Don't take Father's words to heart. He blurts without thinking."
"Haha! Master wouldn't be so ba—"
"D-Don't tease, disciple!"
Face peach-ripened red, she spun and stormed out.