Chapter 3
Chapter 3
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 3
Chapter Title: Path to the Great Disciple
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Three months since beginning my training.
"Heh! Already reached the Pure Sword realm?!"
When I casually channeled qi into my sword, shock close to astonishment appeared on Myeongjin's face.
"How extraordinary. Even years of training rarely lead to comprehending the Pure Sword... and yet in just three months..."
He must have omitted the part about learning it orally through verbal instruction.
"Is it because of the pure yang qi from the Six Yang Divine Art infused in your body? Or are you some once-in-a-millennium prodigy who grasps ten, no, a hundred insights from a single lesson...? Unlikely."
Myeongjin shook his head in utter disbelief.
No wonder he couldn't understand.
This body might look like Jinmu's, but inside it dwells one of the absolute rulers of the murim: the Lord of Evil Hegemony Heaven. The depth of enlightenment is simply on another level from the start.
And Wudang's martial arts... having tried them out, they're surprisingly intriguing.
My internal energy grew stronger by the day, my understanding of the forms deepened, and I lost track of time completely.
Above all, compared to the radical and perilously reckless demonic sect arts, these were far more systematic and stable.
I admit it. Not for nothing are they called a righteous faction.
But there was far too much unnecessary baggage.
'Tch, such fine martial arts ruined by all that etiquette and formality from pig-headed Taoist fools.'
Time had passed since obtaining this new body through the Immortal Grass, and Jinmu, the Wudang First Generation Disciple, was growing stronger by the day.
"Cha-ap!"
The sharp sword qi extending from the sword tip tore through the space before me.
Stepping back one foot and slashing vertically, the sword divided into five, ripping the air to shreds.
Tssrrrrk!
The surging sword qi spread into a single sheet, carving rough gashes into the surface of the towering tree.
But the qi it manifested was utterly different from that of ordinary Wudang disciples.
Though infused with the yang qi of the Six Yang Divine Art, which should be refined and pure, what emanated from the sword was fiercely ferocious.
"Hoo, hoo..."
Jinmu's morning training had become routine.
As a wandering ronin first learning martial arts, time seemed to barely pass, yet before he knew it, he had reached the stage of freely wielding sword qi.
'Tch, already a year has flown by...'
Time sure flies.
So immersed in training, it had already been that long.
Jinmu stared at the sword in his hand with a dissatisfied expression.
Wudang's martial arts.
Good.
Setting aside the empty rituals, they surpassed any art he had learned before.
The problem was his internal energy.
It was a path he had already walked once, and he fully grasped the core of the arts he was practicing, yet his internal energy showed no signs of growing quickly.
Of course, manifesting sword qi proficiently after just a year of training would make any other Wudang member vomit blood in shock, but it didn't satisfy Jinmu.
'Damn it, everything's great, but what's with this snail's pace...'
It was excruciatingly slow.
He wanted to leap several stages at once with familiar demonic arts, but clashing internal energies made that difficult too.
Jinmu sighed and wiped the sweat from his forehead.
At any rate, he had achieved his initial goals.
He hadn't clashed with anyone properly yet, but he felt confident he could handle a Wudang First Generation Disciple with ease.
Until reaching the absolute realm, he couldn't reset his current internal energy cultivation to zero anyway.
'But if I become the Great Disciple...'
Over the past year, without particular effort, he had overheard some gossip.
Wudang.
Once the leader among the Nine Great Sects, wielding immense influence over the Justice Alliance.
But fifteen years ago, they suffered near annihilation from Hyeokryeon Mugang's raid.
The Sect Leader and elders of that time—the Jade Generation—were all slain, and most First Generation Disciples perished.
The survivors who inherited afterward were the remaining First Generation Disciples who had descended the mountain due to the schemes of Evil Hegemony Heaven, now the current Jade Generation.
Sect Leader Myeonghyeon and the current masters of the Five Palaces One Hall were among them.
And Myeongjin, Jinmu's master, had survived solely due to Hyeokryeon Mugang's "grace" (?) by exploiting the gap when the main force of First Generation Disciples was absent.
At any rate, Wudang had rapidly declined since then, and now only direct lineage remained.
Moreover, ties with merchant groups and secular disciples had thinned, finances worsened, and they barely scraped by.
The declining quality of food brought by that insolent Jade Generation disciple was proof.
Jinmu paid it no mind.
What mattered was that the Sect Leader still had no official Great Disciple.
The First Generation Disciples' achievements weren't sufficient yet.
At any rate, becoming the Great Disciple succeeding the Sect Leader would grant access to Wudang's secret transmissions.
And among those secrets...
'Two Forms Heart Art.'
That was Jinmu's target.
He had overheard it from the food delivery boy, so its truth was uncertain, but the kid had said it clearly.
Half a month ago.
"Impressive. Anyone would think you're aiming to become the Great Disciple."
"...?"
"Well, once you do, you'll train directly under the Sect Leader, after all."
Who the hell wants to train under some weakened Wudang Sect Leader?
"Makes sense, since you're the designated next Sect Leader. That's why all the martial uncles are vying for Great Disciple too."
The guy, who usually just dumped the food and left, was unusually chatty today—must be bored.
But Jinmu had zero interest in becoming Great Disciple. Why compete with First Generation Disciples just to be the next Sect Leader?
Then...
"Ah, I want it too. If I could, I'd learn Wudang's supreme ultimate arts like the Taiji Radiant Sword or the legendary Two Forms Heart Art..."
At that moment, Jinmu's heart pounded wildly.
"What did you say?!"
"Pardon?"
"Two Forms Heart Art?"
"...Yes."
The Second Generation Disciple flinched at Jinmu's reaction, gauging his mood.
My god, Two Forms Heart Art?
Wasn't it the secret of secrets allowing one to cultivate two martial arts in a single body?
Jinmu—no, Hyeokryeon Mugang—had heard it vanished before he was even born.
No Wudang expert had appeared mastering it since, as proof.
But if it still existed, and Jinmu learned it?
He could surely cultivate the Ink Dragon Chaos Origin Art without clashing with pure yang qi.
"Is it certain? That Great Disciples get the Two Forms Heart Art?"
"...Yes. Everyone knows it, though."
Everyone knew but Jinmu. He should have looked into it sooner.
Meanwhile, a smirk crept onto the flustered Second Generation Disciple's face.
"For a Void Serenity Hermitage disciple like Martial Uncle Jinmu—not even from the palace—no offense, but it's impossible."
"What?"
"With all First Generation Disciples competing for the spot, how could you?"
Idiot.
Clueless fool.
Competitors? So what?
The path was clear; just run it.
In murim, the strongest prevails. Crush the First Generation Disciples one by one and claim Great Disciple—that was his way.
Then...
'Heh heh heh, farewell to this stifling Taoist hellhole!'
Jinmu smiled contentedly, recalling the event from half a month ago.
However...
There was still one more issue.
Even after becoming Great Disciple and obtaining the Two Forms Heart Art, he couldn't leave Wudang.
The reason: his master, Myeongjin.
To put it bluntly, surviving to this point after his dantian was crippled was nearly miraculous.
Jinmu fully understood how devotedly the original owner of this body had cared for him. That instinctive worry still kept his feet rooted here.
He even felt like stealing the sect's treasure, the Supreme Purity Pill, and feeding it to him.
But...
That too was gradually being resolved.
The solution? Nutritional supplements.
Recently, instead of just soup, he was feeding him actual meat.
He had stubbornly refused at first, putting on an act worthy of a master actor with tears and pleas, but eventually relented at Jinmu's earnest begging. And sure enough, his vitality was returning bit by bit.
Those vile Taoists.
Forbidding meat in the sect or not, force-feeding a patient nothing but grass?
Nothing beats meat for recovery.
Thanks to that, lately it wasn't quite time to abandon him and flee, but he could be away for a while without worry.
Of course, he hadn't told his master about his plans yet.
If questioned, he'd have no choice but to confess everything truthfully. This shell of a body couldn't lie convincingly.
At any rate, once Myeongjin's recovery finished, and he became Great Disciple and mastered the Two Forms Heart Art! Heh heh heh.
As Jinmu lost himself in pleasant thoughts...
"Um..."
"Ack! Shit, you scared me!"
He nearly stabbed with the sword he held from the shock.
Getting too comfortable in Wudang territory was a mistake.
And this was an unfamiliar face.
Arms as thick as thighs, belly protruding with flesh spilling over his clothes... practically a pig?
"Heh heh, you're Martial Uncle Jinmu, right?"
Yes, this is Jinmu, but who might this noble swine be?
"I'm Cheongu, Second Generation Disciple from Origin Harmony Hall."
Not Cheong-don (Pig)? Where's the "feather" in that?
"Brought the foodstuffs."
"Foodstuffs?"
Not the usual rude punk, but some pig-lookalike.
"Just leave them."
"Yes."
Cheongu—for it was indeed Cheongu—beamed with his chubby cheeks making crescent moons of his barely visible eyes, bowing politely.
Whatever, Second Generation Disciples came and went.
Above all, it wasn't mealtime yet, so Jinmu cleared his mind and resumed training.
But then...
At one form.
"Wow!"
At another.
"Ooh!"
"..."
This is distracting as hell.
Shouldn't this pig leave after his business? Why's he staring? It's killing my focus.
"Not leaving?"
"Ah, yes. Sorry. I was bothering you, Martial Uncle. I'll go then."
Even at Jinmu's sharp words, Cheongu smiled affably and departed Void Serenity Hermitage.
His waddling run...
'Rolls well.'
Was so rotund it tilted one's head.
He must neglect training.
No way grass and Wall Valley Pills alone fattened him like that.
Whatever, no intent to befriend Wudang folk... no need to worry about his obesity.
Jinmu continued training.
The next day.
"..."
Heading out to train, there was a familiar piglet flailing at the towering tree covered in yesterday's sword marks—clearly his training spot.
"Ah! Martial Uncle!"
Definitely yesterday's pig.
"What are you doing?"
"Cheongu!"
Does the pig lack tact too?
"I mean, why are you training here? Origin Harmony Hall disciple—train there."
"Heh heh, no training today."
This isn't what I'm asking... haa.
"Martial Uncle, going to train?"
"..."
"Go ahead. I'll be over there. Heh heh."
Silly guy. What's so fun about watching?
Anyway, as Jinmu's training began and sword qi extended each time...
"Wow! Awesome! Ooh?"
"..."
Damn it, can't concentrate.
What the hell is this guy?
"Hey!"
"Yes, Martial Uncle!"
"Not leaving?"
"Can I not watch?"
"No!"
"No training today?"
Listen, you pig bastard.
With that packed schedule, rest days are for hanging with peers, right?
"No one looking for you at Origin Harmony Hall?"
"Nope."
"No one to play with?"
"Guess everyone's busy."
"..."
Ah, don't tell me this kid...
"Hey. Do the others ditch you when you approach?"
"Huh? How'd you know?"
"They won't even spar with you?"
"Yeah. Guess I'm the weakest among peers."
"The usual delivery guy said he felt bad and switched with you?"
"Yes. He's been busy lately."
"They mock you when you mess up?"
"I guess I provide the laughs."
Cheongu nodded vigorously with an innocent smile at Jinmu's questions.
Bullying, pure bullying.
Though he seemed oblivious.
"Sigh, whatever. Go. Busy."
"Got it. See you tomorrow."
"Don't come. Tell someone else. I'll fetch it myself."
"Yes, heh heh."
Cheongu smiled brightly and rolled away again.