Spellcraft (1)
From a mere sheet of paper, he had forged a keen blade.
The fact filled Cheon Woo-jin with an immense sense of accomplishment.
He had trained as a cultivator for half a year now, yet he had never once used his achievements to actually accomplish anything. Gwiyeongja had forced him to focus solely on circulating his qi and raising his realm, after all.
But now, Cheon Woo-jin had successfully cast a talisman spell.
Wielding the power of his own late Qi Condensation cultivation, he had unleashed a spellcraft for the very first time in his life.
If a single successful talisman spell felt this exhilarating, how much greater would the sense of achievement be once he could cast far more powerful spells?
So this is why everyone is so desperate to climb to higher realms.
Shwaaak!
A blade sliced through the wind and shot forward, piercing diagonally through the torso of the Wall Wind Wolf that had been leaping at Cheon Woo-jin.
"Keheng!"
For a terrifying wolf demon, its death cry sounded like nothing more than an ordinary mongrel's yelp.
The Wall Wind Wolf rolled across the ground with the blade still embedded in its flesh. It writhed in agony, but every thrash of its body only tore the wound wider.
Cheon Woo-jin watched the scene with cold detachment.
How long would it take for the beast to die from a wound of this depth? How long would the blade formed from the Sword-Controlling Talisman last before it vanished?
He needed to observe everything in meticulous detail and commit it to memory.
"Heeak..."
In the end, the Wall Wind Wolf died with its tongue lolling out of its mouth. The blade conjured from the talisman vanished a little before the beast did.
Its effective duration isn't as long as I expected. That will need improvement.
Cheon Woo-jin would have to continue practicing spellcraft. The Instant Killing Heavenly Eye alone was not enough to survive in this brutal world.
The Instant Killing Heavenly Eye was undoubtedly a potent divine power, but it was not an omnipotent ability that could resolve every crisis. In particular, it had the limitation of killing only one target at a time.
In a one-on-one situation, he could instant-kill even Heukha-ryong of the Nascent Soul Realm — but if the opponent numbered many, he would struggle to cope. Even being surrounded by merely three or four third-rate martial artists meant he had to prepare for death.
If I could control multiple Sword-Controlling Talismans simultaneously, I could handle being surrounded by a crowd.
The Sword-Controlling Talisman was not the only thing he needed to practice, either.
Offensive spells, defensive spells, movement spells... There was a great deal he needed to master. He would have to be fully prepared before he left this secluded hermitage and stepped out into the world.
Cheon Woo-jin devoted himself entirely to training through the winter.
The stone grotto held not only books on spellcraft but also volumes on countless other training methods. There were even texts that filled in the deficiencies of the Five Elements Dao-Entering Art.
Cheon Woo-jin devoured every hidden pill Gwiyeongja had stashed away while continuing to practice his foundational cultivation method without pause.
I've grown comfortable with the late stage of Qi Condensation now.
As winter drew to a close, Cheon Woo-jin felt a deep satisfaction as spirit qi coursed through every meridian in his body. He had already brought the Five Elements Dao-Entering Art to its complete mastery.
But reaching Great Perfection of Qi Condensation here will be difficult.
Early, Middle, Late, Great Perfection. Of the four stages of the Qi Condensation Realm, Cheon Woo-jin remained at the third — the late stage. Only by reaching the final stage, Great Perfection, could he challenge the next realm: Foundation Establishment.
But attaining Great Perfection here seemed out of reach.
If I shut myself away on Mount Goeyu and keep circulating qi, I could reach Great Perfection eventually — but it would take far too long.
Cheon Woo-jin stepped out of the grotto and turned his gaze toward Mount Goeyu. The moment he did, he sensed a vast stream of spirit qi flowing like clouds. Secluded deep in the mountains, steadily absorbing the spiritual energy of heaven and earth, one would surely see results.
Heukha-ryong had reached the Nascent Soul Realm by doing exactly that.
The problem was that such a method alone would require decades at the very minimum to reach Great Perfection of Qi Condensation. That was simply the nature of a cultivator's training — but Cheon Woo-jin saw no reason to resign himself to it.
It's about time I stepped out into the wider world.
He had finished the pills Gwiyeongja had hidden and devoured every last book. There was no longer any reason to remain here.
And yet...
Just as he began preparing to leave, Cheon Woo-jin detected a strange presence. It was distinctly different from the feel of beasts or demons.
A human presence... and moreover, the presence of beings who possessed special power.
Martial artists.
There was a faint resemblance to Gwiyeongja. They had to be martial practitioners with cultivated inner energy.
"..."
Cheon Woo-jin moved in silence. Five or six men were thoroughly ransacking the empty hermitage. Among them, one warrior stood out with an unmistakable presence — a one-eyed man, his missing eye covered by an eyepatch.
The instant he saw that distinctive appearance, Cheon Woo-jin knew who the man was.
Won Hang. Gwiyeongja's nephew.
Won Hang was a warrior of considerable standing within the Won Clan. He had once owed his life to Gwiyeongja, and had since supported the old man's cultivation in every way he could. It was Won Hang who had searched the Won Clan's outer disciples for youths who appeared to possess a Spiritual Root and sent them to Gwiyeongja.
He was, in other words, Gwiyeongja's accomplice.
"..."
Cheon Woo-jin hid behind a tree and eavesdropped on their conversation. They seemed to have come to verify for themselves the rumor that Heukha-ryong had vanished. They had intended to request Gwiyeongja's assistance, since he knew Mount Goeyu well — but upon arrival, they found no trace of the man.
"It seems he's been away for quite some time. Where on earth could he have gone..."
Won Hang, who had been saying this to his subordinates, flinched and whipped his head around. He had noticed Cheon Woo-jin watching them.
"Who goes there!"
"..."
Cheon Woo-jin stepped out from behind the tree.
"Could he be one of Elder Gwiyeongja's disciples?"
"No. That's impossible."
Won Hang frowned beside his puzzled subordinate.
"I've never sent anyone who looked like that to my uncle. He's a face I've never seen before."
The outer disciple Won Hang had sent last summer had been killed in a beast attack. Since Cheon Woo-jin had stolen that identity to become Gwiyeongja's disciple, there was no way Won Hang could recognize him.
"You there. Who are you?"
Cheon Woo-jin did not answer. Instead, he kicked off the ground and leapt.
"Lightness skill!"
The warriors flinched at the sight of Cheon Woo-jin soaring high into the air to flee. They mistook him for a master of lightness skill.
Of course, what Cheon Woo-jin had used was not lightness skill at all. It was a spell that lightened the body with spirit qi rather than inner energy — the Light Flight Art.
"He's suspicious. Don't let him escape."
"Yes, Squad Leader!"
The warriors gave chase. Cheon Woo-jin fled with the Light Flight Art, then slipped behind a suitable tree and hid himself once more.
He had never intended to run from the start.
I knew a day like this would come.
Encountering warriors of the Won Clan was entirely foreseeable. That was why Cheon Woo-jin had always kept talismans hidden within his robes.
He drew one from his breast, infused it with spirit qi, and hurled it into the empty air.
And it was not just one talisman.
I can finally put my winter of training to the test.
Hwarur!
Ten Sword-Controlling Talismans in all unfolded at once.
The subordinates Won Hang had brought with him today were all first-rate warriors. This was no ordinary scouting mission — they were here to keep watch on the movements of Heukha-ryong.
The first-rate warriors of the Won Clan were masters recognized wherever they went. Every one of them could wield sword qi at the least, and they were drilled well enough to counter even warriors a cut above themselves through coordinated attacks.
Yet now, they were stumbling backward, eyes wide open in shock.
They had just witnessed ten swords rising into the air at once.
"Weapon control?"
"Don't tell me — a master of the Mystic Realm?"
Above first-rate lay Peak. Above Peak lay Transcendent. Above Transcendent lay Flower Realm. And above Flower lay Mystic.
Such were the realms of the martial path.
The Flower Realm maximized the power of inner energy to unleash sword force, but the Mystic Realm went a step further. With complete command over one's inner energy, one could even control a blade without holding it in hand — weapon control.
And now, weapon control was unfolding right before their eyes.
Even the first-rate warriors of the Won Clan could not help but feel fear.
"How can he control ten swords at once..."
"No Mystic Realm warrior could control ten blades simultaneously! It has to be a trick of the eye—" The unfortunate warrior's words cut off in a strangled cry.
Thud! Thud!
Two swords had surged at him from front and back, impaling his body in the same instant. The other warriors trembled at the sight.
Every one of them was prepared to throw away his life for the Won Clan — but witnessing such a scene, they could not help but be swallowed by terror. How were they supposed to fight a Mystic Realm master wielding weapon control with ten blades?
"M-Master, spare me—kuhak!"
"Ughaaaah...!"
Papapapat!
Numerous swords danced through the air. One warrior swung his own blade in a desperate attempt to block; another turned to flee on the spot. But it was all in vain.
In the end, the warriors were run through by the blades, one and all, and perished where they stood.
"..."
Cheon Woo-jin silently observed the scene. The warriors believed he had wielded weapon control — but in truth, it was the Sword-Controlling Talisman, a form of talisman spellcraft.
A winter of training had brought him to the point of controlling ten talismans simultaneously. His control had improved to the degree that he no longer needed to designate directions with his fingers one by one, and the duration had even lengthened.
Thanks to that, he had been able to massacre the first-rate warriors of the Won Clan with ease.
"..."
But at that very moment — a figure with a drawn sword charged into Cheon Woo-jin's field of vision. It was Won Hang, who had hidden himself away while his subordinates were slaughtered, biding his time for an opening.
Won Hang was a different breed from his subordinates. While they had plunged into terror at the sight of a supposed Mystic Realm warrior, Won Hang analyzed the situation with level eyes.
There's no way this man is in the Mystic Realm.
Mystic Realm warriors were rare. Even the head of the Won Clan remained stuck in the Flower Realm.
He looks not even twenty years old yet. Far too young for a warrior who reached the Mystic Realm.
Granted, he could be an absolute master who had achieved rejuvenation, returning to youth. But if that were the case, his hasty flight earlier made no sense. Why would a master of that caliber need to do such a thing? He could simply have slaughtered everyone on the spot.
This man is a cultivator. His flight just now was to buy time to cast his spells.
Won Hang had already seen through the fact that his opponent was a cultivator. Won Hang himself was nothing more than an ordinary martial artist, but he knew what cultivators were — his uncle Gwiyeongja had told him in detail.
My uncle is probably dead by this man's hand.
Won Hang had once owed his life to Gwiyeongja. If this man had harmed him, then it was Won Hang who had to avenge him personally.
Uncle said it once. Even if you face a cultivator, if you keep your wits about you, you can win.
What was a cultivator's greatest weakness? It was that they were not as proficient in physical combat as martial artists. Spirit qi was said to enhance their physical abilities, but they did not drill martial techniques day in and day out the way warriors did.
Therefore, if one could close the distance and force close-quarters combat before the cultivator could cast his spells, there was a chance of victory.
They say a cultivator of Foundation Establishment or above would laugh at such an approach — but if this man were a Foundation Establishment cultivator, he would never have run in the first place. Which means he must be Qi Condensation.
Won Hang had not merely stood and watched his men being slaughtered. Even as he observed that carnage, he was gauging the man's capabilities.
That spell just now was unmistakably the Sword-Controlling Talisman, a talisman art. Which means he must draw a talisman from his robes and infuse it with spirit qi before casting.
His flight earlier, too, must have been an attempt to buy the time needed to cast.
If I cut off his head before he can do that... I can win!
Shwaaaaak!
He charged, drawing up every last shred of his inner energy. A technique of the Cloud-Sundering Sixteen Swords, the pride of the Won Clan, unfolded. He intended to take the man's head before he could so much as pull out a talisman.
"...!"
But Won Hang's attack was blocked mid-flight. Something transparent had interposed itself in the air, standing against his blade.
Water?
Its true nature was water. Water gathered from somewhere unseen had formed a shield, deflecting Won Hang's sword.
A defensive spell!
It was a defensive art woven from water spirit qi. The realization sent a chill down Won Hang's spine.
Casting a defensive spell in such an instant meant he had prepared it in advance. While butchering the warriors with the Sword-Controlling Talismans, this cultivator had simultaneously been maintaining a defensive spell. He had anticipated that Won Hang would attempt an ambush.
He was far more seasoned than I gave him credit for...!
But Won Hang did not give up.
"Haap!"
A battle cry burst from his lips. At once, a sharp energy swirled around the blade that had been held fast by the water shield. He had poured his inner energy into the blade, forming sword qi.
And then, something astonishing happened. The blade, which had seemed completely blocked, began to bore into the water shield.
Won Hang was a warrior who had reached the Transcendent Realm, just like his uncle Gwiyeongja. Because he had never once diverted his attention to things like cultivation methods — devoting himself solely to the training of martial arts — his martial prowess had already surpassed Gwiyeongja's.
It was precisely because the sword qi belonged to such a man that it could pierce a cultivator's defensive spell.
I can finish this! With my martial arts, I can break a cultivator!
Joy flooded through Won Hang. The Won Clan had bowed and scraped before cultivators for as long as he could remember. Even Won Se-rip, the clan head who had reached the Flower Realm, grew deferential in the presence of cultivators.
And now he — a mere member of the Won Clan's cadet branch — was breaking a cultivator. As a martial artist, he could not help but feel an electric thrill.
Here and now, I take this cultivator's head!
In the grip of extreme excitement, Won Hang poured out every last ounce of his inner energy — utterly unaware that beyond the barrier of water, the young cultivator was maintaining his perfectly calm expression.