The Training Session
Namgung Hwa-in encountered many people on his way to the Grand Training Ground.
They all greeted him politely, and he returned the courtesy with humble bows.
Even wearing a faint smile.
Namgung Hwa-in was a seasoned veteran who could smile even when seething with rage.
These pests are getting in my way.
His mind was urgent, yet today of all days, he kept running into crowds.
How was he ever going to get there at this rate?
Apologizing as he quickened his pace, he finally spotted the Grand Training Ground ahead.
“……!”
Through the open doors, he could see a throng of people inside. Those outside were hurrying in as well.
Pricking up his ears, he caught the buzz of excited chatter.
“Heh. I wasn't sure at first, but this training session is actually useful.”
“Tell me about it. Glad I came. I almost regretted it.”
“Aigoo. But it's so damn tough. I can barely walk straight.”
“Can't be helped. They said the next one won't use the body as much, so hang in there a bit longer.”
At that moment, a Paeng family warrior at the entrance bellowed,
“Rest time's over! Hurry inside!”
The folks chatting outside scrambled in.
Their limping, desperate waddles looked utterly ridiculous.
But to Namgung Hwa-in, watching them, it wasn't amusing in the slightest.
Not just ordinary warriors in common garb—there were fighters from notable sects too.
What the hell kind of training is this?!
As the heavy doors slammed shut, the training ground was cut off from the outside world.
Namgung Hwa-in hurried over and asked the Paeng warrior at the entrance,
“Why close the doors?”
The Paeng warrior politely cupped his hands and replied,
“Only those who wish to participate can join.”
“Hah. Then you shouldn't close them at all. What about latecomers?”
“There are two sessions a day, one hour each. This is the second one. Anyone who wants in can come tomorrow.”
Namgung Hwa-in tilted his head, stroking his lush beard.
“Hmm. Now I'm curious what this training is. I'd like to observe—open the doors.”
“Sorry, no can do.”
“……!”
Namgung Hwa-in doubted his own ears.
No can do?
A phrase he'd scarcely heard in his life.
Never since ascending to head the Namgung family.
And now some young Paeng punk—not even their patriarch—was saying it to him?
How dare this brat!
For a split second, he nearly drew his sword, but he swallowed his fury.
No matter how provoked, he couldn't strike a Paeng warrior.
Even lashing out with his tongue might feel good, but he had to hold back.
Too many eyes watching.
Onlookers were murmuring, watching the scene.
Not commoners—fighters from sects with votes in the Murim Alliance leader election.
He couldn't show them a loss of composure.
Namgung Hwa-in forced a gentle smile and nodded.
“My thinking was shortsighted. You're right. Rules must apply equally to all.”
“Thank you for understanding.”
Namgung Hwa-in flashed another smile and turned away.
Sending a sharp sound transmission to his younger brother, Namgung Singeon.
* * *
The first training session focused on foundational body conditioning.
With the vast majority of participants being ordinary warriors, it made perfect sense.
Jeong Gwang emphasized the importance of basics to them.
Weak foundations make martial arts a house of cards.
Not in such polite terms, though.
His words were brutally direct, almost savage.
“Weak basics mean you die fast.”
“……!”
“Basics are the skeleton, the skeleton. If the bones are all wobbly, you think the meat hanging off 'em will move right?”
The warriors tilted their heads at words that sounded logical yet absurd.
But Jeong Gwang gave them no time to ponder.
“Alright. Let's start with horse stance. First day, so just one incense stick's worth.”
The warriors thought they'd misheard.
They weren't expecting peerless arts, but horse stance?
Jeong Gwang frowned slightly at the dumbfounded crowd.
“Anyone who doesn't want to can leave.”
“……!”
This was the Jeong Gwang who'd turned ordinary warrior Jang I into a match for Shijiazhuang's youngest scion.
What came after horse stance might be the real deal.
The warriors complied, grumbling inwardly.
How long's it been since I did this crap?
Arms extended forward, legs shoulder-width, knees bent.
Perfect horse stance, thighs parallel to the ground.
But they were missing something.
Jeong Gwang's version wasn't that.
“Ahh. Who said take it easy?”
“……?”
“That third row over there, twelfth from the front—see him?”
All heads swiveled in unison.
There stood Jang I, trembling in horse stance on his tiptoes.
“That's horse stance. Everyone copy.”
“……!”
The crowd was aghast.
That's horse stance?
What nonsense is this?!
Jang I balanced on his toes, not his soles!
……Interesting. Let's try.
One warrior mimicked it experimentally.
And soon screamed internally.
What the hell!
Ten times harder than regular, twenty times the pain!
“Kuhk!”
A groan of agony escaped him.
Curious others followed suit.
Soon, faces twisted, groans filled the air.
So damn hard!
Did I neglect basics too much?
Horse stance was the first basic learned upon entering martial arts.
Crucial, yet few trained it consistently.
Simple reason: boring and painful.
Jeong Gwang smiled warmly at the quivering, gritted-teeth crowd.
“Not boring, right?”
Boring? They were losing their minds.
“Pain's way bigger, so even short sessions give great results.”
Results unknown, but the agony was over the top.
Gazes sharpened toward Jeong Gwang.
He met them calmly.
“Everyone knows basics matter, but few stick to 'em.”
“…….”
“Why? Boring? Painful? Excuses.”
“……?”
“Others don't. Feels like falling behind if you're the only one grinding basics while they flash fancy forms.”
“…….”
Jeong Gwang grinned.
“So let's all do it. No worries then.”
He skipped it himself, but the mood shifted.
Sparks of motivation ignited in the warriors.
Jeong Gwang piled on the fuel.
“Oh, and solid horse stance? Your wife'll love you for it. Might not be a martial master, but you'll be a strong man.”
“……!”
A truth they all knew but pretended not to.
Yeah! Inner arts all day—what's the point!
Men need outer strength! Horse stance above all!
Married or not, they united under manhood, burning hot.
“Ah, almost forgot.”
Jeong Gwang tossed a carrot to the sidelined women.
“Proper horse stance tones and slims the legs, you know?”
They knew.
Just too lazy before.
The women blazed too.
Jeong Gwang nodded, surveying them.
Motivation's there.
They collapsed one by one, but clenched teeth and rose again.
Not just for his words.
Competition, resolve to rebuild foundations—this chance.
Thus passed the hellish incense stick.
“Stop. Short break.”
Thuds of bodies hitting ground echoed.
Painful faces, but eyes shone clear.
“Break over. Up.”
They staggered to feet.
“Young hero Jang I, come here.”
“Pardon?”
“Hurry.”
“Ah, yes!”
Jeong Gwang sent a sound transmission to the limping Jang I.
“Yes, but why just the Former Eight Forms……”
“…….”
Jang I's face flushed beet red.
“……!”
Follow him, and strength would come someday!
Jang I's heart pounded fiercely.
But it didn't end there.
Jang I's face lit with emotion.
Now he—and his comrades who'd learned the Latter Eight Forms—would be loyal to Jeong Gwang forever.
Bowing deeply, Jang I demonstrated the exercises Jeong Gwang had taught him.
Not stationary limb-waving, but dynamic, walking gymnastics.
Followers soon felt their bodies ease.
Minds too.
Not just ordinary warriors.
A few from the Six Clans Seven Groups Three Manors, there out of curiosity, felt it too.
This ain't just calisthenics!
Immortal qi in it? Kunlun secret exercises?
As if.
Kunlun Mountain was high and treacherous.
Non-martial Tao friends collapsed after climbing.
Just exercises Jeong Gwang made for them. Nothing special.
By his standards.
Thanks to this, turnout's booming. Business is good.
Recalling the past briefly, Jeong Gwang moved on.
“Sparring next! Check your strengths and weaknesses!”
He just talked; Paeng handled opponents.
As hosts, Paeng went all-in.
Paeng Su-won, the patriarch's brother, included—Paeng warriors faced participants.
Ordinary folk couldn't last against such experts.
Still, a golden chance.
When else could they clash with high-level masters?
Paeng warriors lost earnestly, advised earnestly.
Revealing bad habits and fixes the novices never knew.
Like rain in drought.
“First session ends here! Two incense sticks rest, then again! Feel free to step out!”
Doors flew open.
Crowd dispersed.
Some practiced anew.
Others pondered deeply.
Some sprawled, panting.
Each to their tasks.
“Talking here's awkward.”
“Yeah, outside?”
Chatty ones spilled out, yapping excitedly.
Loud enough for outsiders.
Skeptical listeners gaped wider as time passed.
Unbelievably stunning tales.
Then the gate-guarding Paeng warrior called,
“Anyone wanting in can start this session!”
Hesitant ones filed in.
Jeong Gwang smiled watching.
Better than expected.
Day one, already this.
Tomorrow?
Sure to multiply.
Namgung'll be pissed.
Sure enough.
There came Namgung Hwa-in, striding over.
Calm face, but guts churning long ago.
Time to stir more.
Jeong Gwang transmitted to the gate Paeng warrior.
The Paeng warrior bellowed,
“Rest time's over! Hurry inside!”
Outsiders rushed in.
Doors closed slowly,
Namgung Hwa-in's shaken eyes vanishing between.
Thud.
Jeong Gwang pulled his gaze from the sealed doors, grinning refreshingly.
“Training resumes! Nine Dragons Eight Phoenixes helping this time!”
Jeong Gwang still just talked.
To roaring cheers from countless warriors.
“Woooaaah!”