Vampire Incident (4)

Only now did I understand why Cheon Hayeon had called it the "brute force method." During training, I had to repeat the same technique ten thousand times without rest. It wasn't even a simple punch—it was the intricate forms of the Blood Demon Art. No sane person would attempt this. Even so...

"This way suits me better, but could you explain it a bit more?"

Interpreting and understanding the mantra was far more difficult than this intuitive training method. Han Yeoreum ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠would probably feel the same. Cheon Hayeon nodded as she looked at me.

"To properly wield intent, one must experience no-self. The ten thousand repetitions are merely a means to that end. When essence and energy unite through a single intent, that is the state of no-self."

[...Thus, the energy moves according to will, and the body acts of its own accord.]

Along with Cheon Hayeon's words, the Martial God's voice echoed in my mind. I had thought he had passed everything to me and vanished, but it seemed the insights triggered under specific conditions. Unlike my initial expectations, the Martial Soul was not a skill one could simply consume raw. There was clearly a higher-dimensional secret hidden within, though it remained difficult to grasp.

"Hey, did you get it?"

I grabbed Han Yeoreum by the shoulder as she stared blankly.

"Huh...?"

"...Just keep repeating it until you die."

"Yessir. I'll trust only you."

Han Yeoreum grinned. Her expression made it obvious she understood nothing. Given how she had always been detached from studying, expecting theoretical insight from her was pointless. Still, since we shared the Martial Soul, her innate talent for mastering martial arts would develop alongside mine. With enough training, she might even surpass me in comprehension.

Ten thousand times. Even at one repetition per second, it would take nearly three hours. Of course, simply repeating the motion quickly would be easier, but that defeated the purpose. Cheon Hayeon demanded that I focus my consciousness to the extreme on each single movement—whether it was breathing or executing the technique.

"Again."

Somehow sensing my mind had wandered, Cheon Hayeon spoke in a cold voice. Again. I had already heard that word countless times. Her "again" meant resetting the count to zero. The moment she sensed I was slacking, her intervention was immediate and merciless.

"...I need a short break. This isn't easy."

I exhaled deeply and collapsed onto the floor. Han Yeoreum was already sprawled beside me.

"I'm dead..."

Han ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Yeoreum muttered while staring blankly at the sky. During the previous physical training she had complained about the smell of sweat, but now she ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠lacked the energy to care. The relentless repetition had left me just as drained.

"Training is inherently grueling," Cheon Hayeon stated firmly as she looked down at us. "Thank goodness we have no classes today."

Han Yeoreum's voice was barely audible. I nodded in agreement.

"On days with classes, it would be wiser to adjust the intensity," Cheon Hayeon conceded after glancing between us. At least she showed some flexibility.

"...Yeah, we should."

If we pushed this hard from dawn, we would miss classes entirely. We would have to regulate the intensity ourselves. Forcing my heavy legs to move, I pushed myself upright.

"Let's begin."

At Cheon Hayeon's nod, I once more executed the explosive palm technique from the Blood Demon Art. Even though it was the most basic form, the strain was immense.

"...."

I focused solely on inhaling, exhaling, and striking. My body had already reached its limit. I circulated my inner energy to forcibly squeeze strength from my muscles. I even stopped counting the repetitions.

"...."

At some point, I no longer knew what I was doing. It was boring. How many times had I repeated it? I was exhausted. Was I even breathing? I wanted to rest. Was this truly the right method? I wanted to lie down. The more humans tried not to think, the more their minds craved something to grasp. Countless stray thoughts swirled in my head, disrupting the technique. Thanks to the mental fortitude granted by my traits and my vast inner energy, I endured. Without them, I would have collapsed long ago.

'2141, 2142, 2143....'

Cheon Hayeon mechanically counted the repetitions as she watched Kim Mugong train. She had never easily recommended this method to just anyone. In tales spun by idle martial artists, someone who repeated a third-rate technique like the Three Calamities Sword Art hundreds of thousands of times would suddenly become a supreme master. Such stories were common, yet in reality, such cases were nearly nonexistent.

Reality was harsh. Disciples from prestigious sects who had received rigorous training and consumed rare elixirs since childhood were the ones who mastered profound arts. How many repetitions would it take for an ordinary person to match them through simple repetition of a third-rate technique? It was realistically impossible. Time was one factor, but before that, the mind and body would break down. Even with higher-grade arts, building a foundation step by step was far more effective for advancing one's realm—a fact proven over the long years leading to the modern murim.

Yet she had suggested this brute-force approach purely on instinct. Somehow, she felt Kim Mugong and Han Yeoreum could endure it and reveal something extraordinary. She did not yet know exactly what that something was. In practice, Kim Mugong had already exceeded expectations on the very first day, approaching the state of self-forgetfulness. His focus and willpower surpassed her predictions. Watching him, Han Yeoreum was burning with determination. Cheon Hayeon was curious to see how far their mutual synergy would take them. Observing a martial artist's growth was one of her greatest pleasures.

Still, this was enough for today.

"Stop."

She stepped in front of the two. Light gradually returned to their vacant eyes.

"Any more and you will damage your bodies. Rest well today and do not overexert yourselves."

Cheon Hayeon grasped Han Yeoreum's wrist—nearly on the verge of collapse—and infused her with true energy. Color returned to the girl's pale complexion.

"Haa... That's amazing. What is this?"

"It is merely a temporary measure. Go and rest properly."

"Okay."

Han Yeoreum nodded obediently. Cheon Hayeon turned to Kim Mugong, who was gulping down water.

"You, it seems, have no need for it."

"Ah, look after her a bit. Thanks for today."

Those with yang-type physiques indeed possessed exceptional stamina—sometimes excessively so, leading to rampages. Fortunately, Kim Mugong showed no such symptoms.

"Get some rest."

Kim Mugong waved at Han Yeoreum. Too exhausted to speak, she merely nodded and trudged toward the dormitory. Since the training ground was right beside the women's dormitory, her figure soon vanished from sight.

"Ugh, I'm soaked. Let's head back."

Kim Mugong looked down and shook his hands. Sweat streamed from his forehead down his cheeks to his chin. Having poured bottled water over his head, he was drenched like a drowned rat.

"For the first day, you did well."

As they walked toward the dormitory, Cheon Hayeon spoke quietly.

"Honestly, I don't even know what I was doing."

"Enlightenment is not something easily put into words. Had you gone a little further, you would have embodied no-self within the state of self-forgetfulness and grasped intent."

"A little further... How long does it take to reach that 'little'?"

"I do not know. For some it may take a lifetime, for others a single night, and for yet others, only an instant. That is what a wall is."

Kim Mugong let out a low hum.

"Difficult."

"It is. Therefore, to grasp even a clue, one must train steadily and seize the opportunity when it comes. Opportunity always favors those who are prepared."

"You too?"

"A foolish question. I now require something beyond physical training, yet I too stand before a wall."

Cheon Hayeon pressed her lips together, her expression heavy as she gazed at the sky. The clear sun had already risen. Even though she had no rivals among her peers, reaching this realm had not been easy. Precisely because she was a genius, she had endured harsher training than others. She had never shown interest in anything outside martial arts, possessed no ordinary hobbies, and had rarely left the Heavenly Demon Sect, repeating endless ascetic practice. That was how she had arrived here as the Young Heavenly Demon.

"It'll work out somehow."

Kim Mugong's lips curved slightly upward. For some reason, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠seeing that smile made Cheon Hayeon's heart tremble faintly. Objectively, he looked utterly wretched and exhausted.

"...I see."

Unable to understand the strange feeling, Cheon Hayeon simply continued walking in silence.

The cold water from the shower poured over my head.

'I'm going to die.'

At first, it had seemed easier than expected. I had even thought, "Only ten thousand times?" It had not taken long to realize how wrong that assumption was. Achieving perfect unity of mind and body, as Cheon Hayeon demanded, was anything but simple. The moment I slacked even slightly, she reset everything. Honestly, I had lost count of how many repetitions I had done. At least this body recovered quickly—otherwise, even showering would have been impossible.

Tring—

While staring blankly at the mirror, I heard a notification-like sound. If it was not from my phone, there was only one possibility. I naturally opened the status window and saw that the files section had been updated.

"...Huh?"

An involuntary sound escaped my lips. Files were normally updated only when I "collected" them. Yet this one had updated on its own, as if someone had granted it. Feeling uneasy, I immediately opened the file.

Attached to the article was a photograph of the scene—one I had never expected to see.