Chapter 28
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 28
Chapter Title: Muscle Heart Method
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Daily life at the academy ran on a tight schedule.
From morning until lunch, they trained their physical strength and cultivated internal energy. From lunch until evening, they chose their preferred weapon type and went to the corresponding instructor to learn weapon techniques. Once a week, everyone gathered in the grand training hall to practice group battles.
The common curriculum already included everything I wanted, so I had no desire to pick an elective. But since it was mandatory, I reluctantly chose the sword.
Starting from the second year, there were hobby classes and liberal arts courses, but first-years had none of that to focus on building a solid foundation.
It was nothing but days of relentless training.
A month passed like that.
I had grown somewhat accustomed to life at the Imperial Palace Martial Academy.
Once classes ended, I devoted myself entirely to weight training.
This place also had a physical training ground, much like the Demonic Cult's sub-branch. Of course, it boasted facilities and scale on a completely different level from the cult's training hall.
But in my eyes, they were both much the same.
So, I began crafting all sorts of exercise equipment here as well.
Not with my own money, of course, but with the scholarship provided by the academy head.
In the future, I'd donate it all here before leaving, ensuring he couldn't complain about the scholarship later.
Once I started weight training with the new equipment I'd made, the reactions were identical to those back at the cult.
Everyone who saw me was busy whispering.
"Why's he doing such weird exercises?"
"He stood out during the entrance exam too. Seems like a attention-seeker who can't help but show off."
"Don't feed him."
"Agreed."
I pressed on with my workouts steadfastly, ignoring their scornful gazes that bordered on contempt.
Occasionally, Yang Cho-gun would drop by and keep me company.
But even he showed no interest in my strength training.
Stimulated by me, perhaps, he threw himself into internal energy cultivation instead. He trained so obsessively that it was hard to spot him even in the dorm at night.
As time went on, I became known here as the prince of chicken breasts.
I ate expensive chicken—only the breasts—for all three meals a day, after all.
Everyone mocked me relentlessly, but I didn't care.
Muscles know the truth.
I spent so much time on strength training that I barely did anything in the dorm but sleep. Yang Cho-gun, too, often came back at dawn from his internal energy practice.
The ones who spent the most time in the dorm room were Sima Ryang and Jo Gi-myeong.
Aside from their righteous and demonic affiliations, the two clashed in every way imaginable. The biggest issue was Sima Ryang's messy habits that cluttered everything, and Jo Gi-myeong's aversion to filth.
Their personalities shone through in their beds.
Sima Ryang's bed, true to his free-spirited nature, was always a disaster. Jo Gi-myeong's was militarily neat, sharp corners and all.
They bickered daily over cleanliness.
"Hey, can't you do something about that pile of dirty clothes?"
"What do other people's clothes matter to you?"
"They say you can tell a man's character from the space he leaves behind. Take a look at yours—what do you feel?"
"It's wonderfully free-spirited. Yours, on the other hand? Zero humanity, just a stuck-up old fogey."
"You demonic bastard?"
"What? You half-assed righteous prick?"
"H-half-assed? You wanna die?"
Crash! Bang!
"……."
"……."
Yang Cho-gun and I, having returned early to the room hoping for some rest, exchanged deep sighs. We left the tearjerker drama unfolding before us and headed back out for more training.
This place really was the perfect environment for working out.
Three months had passed since entering the Imperial Palace Martial Academy.
The days repeated in a staggeringly monotonous routine.
A university freshman might go on blind dates or MT trips for the full experience, but in this all-male academy, such romance didn't exist.
It was nothing but sweat-soaked training, training, training.
I poured every free moment into weight training.
In the midst of it, I noticed something strange.
While exercising with heavy weights and breathing steadily in and out, I felt a faint accumulation of internal energy in my muscles.
"What is this?"
The more intense the exercise, the more internal energy seemed to build up.
Curious, I headed straight to the Imperial Palace Martial Library and searched through materials on internal energy cultivation.
The basic method for gathering internal energy involved inhaling and exhaling in a prescribed manner to store the natural energies of the universe in one's dantian.
This was called an internal energy heart method, or the Exhalation-Inhalation Technique, or simply breathing method.
Exhale to release, inhale to gather—hence the name.
But here's the thing.
Weight training had its own set breathing patterns.
For example, in a bench press, you exhale while pushing the barbell up and inhale while lowering it.
This probably had some connection to the local breathing techniques.
Moreover, internal energy cultivation postures were divided into three main types: sitting meditation for cultivating while seated, lying meditation for while reclined, and moving meditation for while in motion.
'So, is my weight training a form of moving meditation? Hmm, worth researching.'
I named it the Muscle Heart Method for now and decided to delve deeper.
Around the time Tae-seong discovered the Muscle Heart Method at the Imperial Palace Martial Academy, a major upheaval shook the righteous martial world.
The Murim Alliance Leader had changed.
The former leader, Na Baek-bong, had stepped down, and a new one had been elected.
For the past year, numerous sects and clans had condemned Na Baek-bong's incompetence.
It stemmed from the raid on a Demonic Cult sub-branch that ended in catastrophic losses for the alliance instead.
Truth be told, he should have resigned voluntarily back then. But he chose to serve out his full term.
He couldn't bear the lifelong disgrace of being an alliance leader who hadn't completed his tenure.
The new leader elected was Baek No-cheon, patriarch of the Chang Ui Sect.
One of the Three Venerables of the Righteous Martial World, known as the Dao Venerable, he was a supreme master said to match the Demonic Cult's Heavenly Demon one-on-one.
However, he had a highly aggressive personality.
That trait had led to the previous election of Na Baek-bong from the Wudang Sect—a milder man, though less skilled—as leader instead.
Back then, the priority was recovering from the ravages of war.
But the world had changed.
The young rising stars of the righteous martial world no longer wanted a pacifist alliance leader.
They craved a powerhouse who could hit back as hard as they were struck.
They hoped to restore the righteous factions' tarnished honor, lost in the failed raid on the Demonic Cult's secret sub-branch a year ago.
A pale-faced man received an express messenger pigeon.
His expression was filled with worry.
"The Murim Alliance Leader's changed... and of all people, it's that old man Baek No-cheon."
In the dim secret chamber, the one quietly reading the report was the current Demonic Cult Leader, the Supreme Demon Sword Heo Cheon-seong.
The righteous called him the Sword Demon.
He tapped the armrest of his chair with his nails and spoke.
"Beating the grass to startle the snake—that's exactly this. If we'd left him alone, that weakling Na Baek-bong would've been reelected. But thanks to the vice leader, we've stirred up the righteous fools for nothing."
Heo Cheon-seong had opposed the Heavenly Demon's plan from the start. But as a figurehead leader, he lacked the power to check the Heavenly Demon's influence.
Ten years ago, after the Great Demonic War ended, Heo Cheon-seong had tried to hand over the leadership to the Heavenly Demon and retire.
His age was one thing, but his skills couldn't match up anymore.
Yet the Heavenly Demon had refused the position outright, insisting on remaining vice leader.
At the time, Heo Cheon-seong thought it was respect for a martial world senior.
But it was mere delusion.
The Heavenly Demon had turned him into a puppet leader, dumping all the headaches on him while dedicating himself to solitary training. Now, he had become an untouchable master.
The Heavenly Demon could oust him anytime he wished and take full control of the Demonic Cult.
With power like that, the Heavenly Demon wielded absolute authority, leaving Heo Cheon-seong as nothing but an empty shell of a leader.
Heo Cheon-seong let out a deep sigh.
'How did I end up like this? I was called the Sword Demon long before that bastard was born, dominating the martial world...'
Recently, the Heavenly Demon had sacrificed a corrupt sub-branch for personal gain as bait, slaughtering thirty percent of the Murim Alliance's elites.
It was a monumental victory no one in the Demonic Cult had ever achieved.
More than enough to ignite the passions of the cult's young demons.
They now followed the Heavenly Demon with fanatical devotion, worshipping him like a living god.
In contrast, Heo Cheon-seong's position eroded further.
He knew his era had ended long ago.
But being treated like a has-been by lowly demons filled him with seething rage.
Had he retired honorably as Supreme Leader, living among the elders and former demons, he wouldn't be so pathetic now.
Gazing at the sky outside the window with tormented eyes, Heo Cheon-seong reminisced about the past.
'I miss those days contending with the Three Venerables of the martial world.'
He drew his Heaven-Defeating Sword—when had he last unsheathed it?—and examined the blade.
A chilling edge flowed along it, proving it no ordinary weapon.
"You're still in such fine shape, yet because of this worthless master, you've been relegated to gathering dust like an old relic..."
The Sword Demon Heo Cheon-seong stroked his beloved sword slowly and murmured.
"It's infuriating that none of my disciples can take down that Heavenly Demon bastard. Infuriating."