Chapter 267: Sense-Controlling Divine Art
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 267: Sense-Controlling Divine Art
“If Chun-bong cries, you’re dead.”
It was a chilling threat, and it didn't sound like an empty one. Bi-yeon’s body froze in primal terror.
Chun-bong was equally appalled. She hastily launched a 'Lee Seo-jun Corrective Dropkick.'
But mid-air, a realization struck her. Wait, his Inner Demon!
Geum Chun-bong executed a swift flip, landing perfectly to clamp her tiny hand firmly over Seo-jun’s lips.
“You crazy bastard! There are things you can say to a kid and things you can’t!”
“Or so I was going to say~.”
“Ugh, seriously!”
After delivering a quick, rhythmic beating to Lee Seo-jun, Chun-bong sighed and dropped back down to the ground.
Was he acting like this because of the Inner Demon? It was honestly hard to tell, considering he was usually like this anyway.
Chun-bong placed her hands on her hips and glared at Namgung Su-ah.
“You too, sister. If he says something like that, you should think about stopping him.”
“Oh, come on. I’m sure Seo-jun has his reasons.”
It was a completely nonchalant reply. Judging by her beaming smile, she sincerely meant it.
Sigh, I guess I’m the only one who can keep things together around here…
As the self-proclaimed guardian deity of the Central Plains, Geum Chun-bong felt a massive weight of responsibility bearing down on her tiny shoulders. She couldn't even imagine how the world would function without her.
Finally letting out a deep sigh, Chun-bong turned her attention back to Seo-jun.
“So, how exactly are you going to replace Insight?”
“It’s nothing major.”
Talent and Insight were similar yet distinct. In a way, Insight could be seen as a subset of talent.
The word 'Insight' itself referred to the capacity for intellect or thought, but in the realm of martial arts, it meant the ability to pierce through, understand, and realize the true essence of a technique. Essentially, it was a martial artist's learning ability and intuition.
“They say there’s no single right answer for the sword, but at her level, we can assume there is.”
Once a master reached a certain pinnacle, there was no 'correct' way to swing a sword. It was no longer a matter of right or wrong, but merely a difference in the Dao one chose to pursue.
However, that wasn't the case for Bi-yeon. At her current, foundational stage, a definitive 'correct answer' absolutely existed.
“If she swings the sword according to that answer, that experience will gradually be carved into her body.”
The process of mastering the sword could be summarized quite simply:
First, whether learning from a master or realizing it oneself, one must guide the sword in the correct direction.
Second, one must understand and realize the path the sword took, making that enlightenment their own.
Third, one must repeat that process until they can execute the perfect sword path at will.
The second step was exactly where Insight became crucial.
Those with exceptional Insight realized it the very moment they executed a perfect strike: 'Ah! This is the right path!'
Once they grasped that sensation, all that was left was to engrave it into their physical form. Only then could they claim to have truly mastered a single sword path.
“That’s why a master is important,” Chun-bong said, pouting with her arms crossed. “Because they can tell you if you’re right, or exactly where you went wrong if you’re not.”
“That’s my Chun-bu-i.”
Seo-jun scooped Chun-bong up and affectionately bounced her in his arms.
“But in this case, even a master isn't much help. What’s the point of guiding her to the correct path? The next time she tries, she won't know if she’s doing it right or wrong.”
Given Bi-yeon’s disastrous lack of talent, it was a certainty. Even if a master meticulously corrected her posture, she would forget the feeling the moment she turned around.
So, he had created a solution.
A martial art designed specifically for correcting martial arts.
If she swung the sword along the correct path, that exact sensation would gradually be forcibly engraved into Bi-yeon’s body. If the sword path wavered even slightly, the technique would remain dormant. It was vital to swing with the exact posture, angle, and strength.
In essence, since she lacked the Insight required to comprehend the martial art, Seo-jun was adding a line of code that would hardwire the physical sensation into her body based on precise input values.
“I really have no idea what you’re talking about.”
It hadn't even been difficult to make. It was a domain closely connected to the mystique of his pupils.
The technique would activate only when the body moved in the absolute correct manner. Instead of circulating internal energy, it would simply memorize and engrave the physical sensation of that exact moment into the practitioner's muscles and bones.
“If she took her time, Bi-yeon could eventually do it herself, but you said that would take sixty years.”
So now, Bi-yeon’s task was brutally simple.
Repeat the swing a hundred, a thousand times until she accidentally stumbled upon the correct sword path. If one lacked talent, shouldn't they make up for it with their own blood and sweat?
“Alright, I’ll give you a little taste first.”
Seo-jun’s eyes flickered with a murky light as he focused on Bi-yeon.
Bi-yeon’s body instantly froze. Her breath hitched the moment her eyes met his. Just as her mind was turning entirely white, her body began to move on its own.
Seo-jun’s Void Object Grasping was puppeteering every single one of her muscles.
“Ah…!”
In that controlled state, she swung the sword three times.
A vertical slash, a horizontal slash, and a thrust.
It was the Three Talents Sword Art. Executed with an absurd, near-perfect precision that didn't belong to her.
However, this was literally just a taste. Even if Seo-jun moved Bi-yeon’s body to draw the correct path, the martial art wouldn't truly activate to engrave it. Still, having her own body experience the proper path would certainly be a helpful foundation.
Leaving the dazed Bi-yeon behind, Seo-jun used Void Object Grasping to pull over some paper and a brush he sensed nearby—they seemed to belong to the Chief Steward of the Golden Pearl Hall—and instantly wrote out a manual.
Sense-Controlling Divine Art (感刻於身之功).
It literally meant the art of carving what is sensed into the body.
By name alone, it sounded like a legendary, god-tier martial art… but in reality, it wasn't quite that grand.
In truth, it was little more than 'chicken ribs'—something of little value, yet a pity to throw away. It was created solely to replace an almost non-existent Insight. Anyone with even slightly better-than-average Insight would find this technique completely meaningless.
He could have developed it further, but…
This is far enough.
Seo-jun gazed quietly at the freshly inked manual for the Sense-Controlling Divine Art.
A martial art for those without talent. How many would actually achieve something with this?
It would certainly be a grueling, agonizing path. They would have to put in far more toil and effort than those blessed by the heavens.
However, if someone could truly endure and master this art, they would finally be able to stand on the exact same stage as the talented.
“Should I spread this around Anhui?”
“Huh?”
Seo-jun wanted to see it for himself.
The moment someone completely overcame their innate limitations—that miraculous, defiant moment when a human cast off their heavenly shackles.
*
The distribution of the Sense-Controlling Divine Art happened in an instant.
It was the absolute will of the Grand Master of Namgung. At his word, every branch of the Namgung Clan across Anhui obeyed implicitly.
Ideally, distributing the manuals would have been the easiest method, but the vast majority of the common folk were illiterate. Naturally, handing out books wouldn't mean much on its own.
So, while the manuals were released to the public, many who followed the will of Namgung took it a step further and opened 'one-day classes.'
Engraving the foundation of the Sense-Controlling Divine Art took only a day, even for commoners who couldn't sense Qi. All it required was memorizing the oral chant and having someone to guide the initial process.
Most importantly, since it was offered entirely free of charge, the Sense-Controlling Divine Art spread like wildfire.
“Is this really okay…?”
Chun-bong watched blankly as the art flooded the world.
Releasing a martial art to the public just like that? As far as she knew, it was utterly unprecedented in the history of the Murim.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“What if someone copies it and mixes it into their own sect’s techniques?”
“That?”
Seo-jun gave a short, mocking laugh. But Chun-bong was dead serious.
“Yeah. I mean, they could at least strip a few core principles from it, couldn't they?”
Engraving the correct sensation into the body? It was unheard of.
In fact, there had been plenty of whispering even while the art was being distributed.
— Replacing the Insight of someone without talent?
— There’s no way such a thing is possible.
— Even if it’s the Grand Master’s doing, I wonder if this will actually be effective…
Of course, such rebellious sentiments were swiftly and brutally suppressed.
— You’re doubting the Young Master’s words? Are you a spy?
— Oh? This guy’s thoughts are impure.
— Get him!
These crackdowns were mainly spearheaded by the fanatical members of the Heavenly Medicine Hall.
Anyway.
“If you can engrave sensations into the body, the speed of learning martial arts will increase exponentially.”
“I doubt it.”
“Huh?”
Seo-jun gave the puzzled Chun-bong a mischievous smile.
“Do I look like that nice of a person?”
“Well, no.”
“Hey.”
Chun-bong seemed to be thinking, 'Wouldn't it be incredible to combine one's original Insight with the sensations engraved by the Sense-Controlling Divine Art?' But the art wasn't exactly designed for that.
He had made it that way on purpose.
It wasn't impossible to create a technique that matched her thoughts, but doing so would only hinder a practitioner's future growth. Moreover, what Seo-jun wanted wasn't simply to see untalented people get a slight boost.
What he wanted to witness was the moment they truly transcended the very framework of talent.
The exact moment a deficient human, lacking even the basic talent to be whole, shattered their innate limits.
And above all, the Sense-Controlling Divine Art was a technique created by Lee Seo-jun.
Seo-jun’s delicate skill in manipulating Qi had already far surpassed the human realm, and his unique intuition completely ignored established procedure and common sense.
Every structural pillar of the Sense-Controlling Divine Art reached a realm beyond conventional martial arts—a realm where even a sliver of understanding was impossible for anyone but the creator.
All the seemingly unrelated elements were so tightly interconnected that a single minor discrepancy would cause the entire foundation to collapse.
To ignore that delicate balance and maliciously try to tack it onto their own martial arts?
“It’ll probably be more dangerous than most demonic arts. And it won't even be effective.”
Because of the insidious nature of the Sense-Controlling Divine Art, which engraved sensations slowly and faintly, by the time a greedy practitioner realized something was wrong with their Qi flow, it would be far too late.
Just in case an innocent victim might be harmed, Seo-jun had even left a kind warning at the very beginning of the manual.
It’ll be big trouble if you take this chant and try to make a new martial art out of it.
“I clearly told them not to do it, so if something happens, it’s on them.”
*
“Ooh, so this is that Sense-Controlling Divine Art?”
“Yes, it wasn't difficult to obtain.”
“Surely it will be a major boon to our sect’s martial arts?”
“There is a warning, but…”
The man holding the manual for the Sense-Controlling Divine Art snorted disdainfully.
“It’s just a formal warning. They’re releasing the art to gain public favor, but it probably hurts their pride to have the core principles taken by other sects.”
Whether you called it professional ethics or something else, it wasn't exactly a noble thing to do. But in the Murim, everyone naturally took a peek whenever they got their hands on a new technique.
Besides, wasn't this a martial art created by the Grand Master of Namgung, the Evil-Annihilating Heavenly Lord Lee Seo-jun himself?
Anyone who could look at such a technique and feel nothing would have already shaved their head and entered a monastery. That would be a Buddha, not a martial artist.
“It shouldn't be too hard to simply adapt the core principles and attach them to our arts. At this rate, our sect might finally join the ranks of the great sects.”
A deeply satisfied smile played on the man’s lips.
He imagined his sect rapidly growing in power and making a prestigious name for itself across the Central Plains.
All while remaining entirely ignorant of the fatal weight of what he had just done.
*
Seo-jun stayed quietly at the Namgung Clan for a few days, receiving various bits of news.
The number of talents selected through the Heaven-Chosen Talent Art was impressive, the results of the Namgung Lineage were already beginning to show, and the distribution of the Sense-Controlling Divine Art was proceeding smoothly…
Not much of a stir yet.
The Sense-Controlling Divine Art was distributed to the commoners, but in reality, commoners didn't have the luxury of time to learn martial arts. They were too busy just trying to survive day to day.
Seo-jun hadn't expected much either; he had distributed it in the hopes that a few excellent specimens—those with an iron will but zero talent—might eventually emerge from the masses.
Just look at Bi-yeon over there as a prime example.
She was swinging her sword like a madwoman, her hands never dry of blood and sweat, and the effects were already beginning to show.
According to Bi-yeon, unlike before, she could actually feel herself improving, which made the grueling training enjoyable.
Because it was so starkly different from the past, where she saw absolutely no progress no matter how much she practiced, she now found genuine joy in simply swinging the sword.
Seo-jun also felt a warm sense of pride, seeing that Chun-bong seemed to find guiding her rewarding.
However, there was something far more pressing at hand.
“I guess they’re planning to wrap up the war soon…”
Seo-jun looked down at the heavy letter in his hand. To summarize the polite contents: 'Transcendent Realm friends, assemble at the Murim Alliance!'
Of course, Jegal Tong hadn't phrased it so crudely; the letter was written with utmost respect and bore the Emperor’s official seal.
It was still unknown exactly how many Transcendent Realm experts would respond to this grand summons.
However, Seo-jun fully intended to attend. He had been wanting to meet the Alliance Leader anyway…
It wouldn't hurt to go and check it out.
It was finally time to face a living god on earth—an absolute master who had reached the supreme stage of the Profound Realm.