Intensive Training

Around this time every year, one topic inevitably began creeping into every conversation: a large-scale event that no country with hunters could afford to ignore.

The Guild War!

Once again, the season had come around. People brimming with anticipation scribbled their excited predictions across every community on the internet.

Amid the back-and-forth about everyone's favored guild, a genuinely juicy piece of gossip detonated across the boards.

The rumor mill insisted that this year's Guild War would surpass everything that had come before it.

Then, hot on its heels, came the guilds' declarations of participation and their associated intel.

The Guild War was open not only to guilds, but also to institutions that held standing equal to one. Even so, the last time a martial sect had entered the Korean league was at its very first Guild War.

This was indirect proof that this year would be nothing like the ones before. Soon after, the Korean Hunter Academy publicly declared its participation as well, and the announcements kept coming.

Each fresh bombshell announcement sent public anticipation climbing higher and higher.

As public interest surged, one name kept surfacing without fail.

Lee Tae-hyun. He might well have been the most-mentioned hunter in South Korea this entire year.

People couldn't help but expect great things. After the string of astonishing feats he'd already pulled off, surely Lee Tae-hyun would deliver another legendary performance in the Guild War? Would he really let a stage that enormous simply pass him by?

Everyone watched and waited, their interest barely concealed — but the news never came.

Just as the swelling anticipation was about to curdle into disappointment, the news broke — bigger than anyone had dared hope.

"Hm."

Quite some time had passed since I'd obtained Flame Soul. The core of the skill was simple: Hwalyeok! — the manipulation of the Karma Flame burning within my body.

I activated the skill and conjured a fireball the size of a soccer ball above my palm, its glow far redder and fiercer than any ordinary flame.

"Still only C-rank, so it's not much to look at size-wise."

But that was just a matter of raising the grade over time. This flame will have a hundred uses. I'd watched Ji Yeon-ha wield it more than a few times before my regression. The power of Flame Soul was enough to bring steel to a boil — earning it the hard way had been worth every ounce of that suffering.

But the best part —!

The single greatest advantage Flame Soul had given me was simple: I finally had a ranged attack.

Fwarruk! I seized the Karma Flame in my hand and stretched it out long, shaping the fire to my will until it took form as I envisioned. "That's it." Before long, the flame had become a single fiery spear. Gripping it tight, I fixed my gaze on the scarecrow dummy planted in the distance.

"Hup!"

The throw unfolded in one clean motion. The flaming spear carved its arc and shot across the training ground.

KWAAAANG!

The moment it struck the scarecrow, a massive explosion erupted and the Karma Flame bloomed skyward — leaving not a trace of the dummy behind.

"There we go."

At last, it was complete: Flame Soul Javelin.

A spear's limitation was, in the end, that it was a close-range polearm. Its reach outstripped fists or swords, but it fell short against enemies at a distance, and throwing your weapon meant sacrificing it — never a wise choice. Flame Soul Javelin covered that weakness perfectly. It didn't even have to take the form of a throw; Flame Soul on its own offered endless applications. Glad ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I picked it up. Smiling in satisfaction, I let the fireball dissipate.

"Waaaargh!"

At almost the same moment, Shin Min-woo came plummeting from the sky and slammed into the ground. "Uuughh..."

"..."

Another failed attempt, apparently. Still, as of last week he'd been dropping every thirty minutes; lately it was down to once an hour. Progress.

"Hyung... save me... please..."

"Sorry."

Holding back tears, I shouldered the fallen Shin Min-woo. After all, today's training regimen wasn't over yet.

In my spare moments, I picked through the list of achievable milestones, clearing them one by one to stockpile experience points — a means of earning EXP outside of quests. The amounts themselves aren't huge. But it was steady income, and tucking away experience bit by bit would pay off down the line.

Drawing in a breath — "-!" — I swept my spear in a blur, a rapid-fire thrust built on my grown Technique stat. In an instant, the spear carved through empty air exactly fifteen times.

"Tch. I thought I'd saved up more, but I'm not even halfway there."

My experience bar had grown too big for its own good. What on earth was level 4 planning to hand out?

"Level 2 gave stat unification. Level 3 gave ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a trait." Not to mention the rise in potential rank. Every single reward had been absurdly, outrageously overpowered. What would happen when I hit level 4?

Even just imagining it set my heart racing, but — "Don't get ahead of yourself." The power meant nothing unless I could shoulder it myself. Complacency was poison.

"DISCIPLEEEE!"

I was about to browse for another achievement when Kwonwang's roar came calling for me. "You called, Master?"

"Indeed! I believe we'll need to move your lesson up a bit today."

The words why, though? died in my throat. There stood Baek Seo-ha, unconscious, a massive lump on her head, foam bubbling at the corner of her mouth. "Uuughh..."

"Pathetic. Your disciples are terrible complainers."

"..."

I had plenty to say, but I held my tongue. "I suppose we should give those two the day off."

"I wholeheartedly agree."

Any more of that beating and they'd be looking at permanent intelligence loss.

After dragging Baek Seo-ha and Shin Min-woo along and laying them down roughly inside the training hall, I turned and said, "Let's begin."

"Heh."

I stood before Kwonwang — to learn Hyunmu Mokgwon, one of the four martial arts that together comprised the Peerless Spear Arts.

The foundation of the Ink Fist lay in creating Mokgi — Ink Qi — so named for the way it was black as ink and left its stain upon the world.

"Have you practiced what I taught you last time sufficiently?"

"I've done my best, Master."

The source of Ink Qi was anything but complicated. "Show me."

Without a word, I pressed my hands together and stirred my mana. I squeezed more strength into my clenched fist and kept compressing the mana, tighter and tighter.

GWAAAAAK!

The instant I condensed the mana to its absolute limit, the core of it darkened to black and began oozing out, thick and heavy.

"...Ho-oh?"

Kwonwang stroked his beard with evident interest. He can already manifest Ink Qi? The source of Ink Qi was simply mana clumped together and hardened — it looked simple, and it was. But the simpler a thing was, the more it owed to innate talent.

"Ah."

The moment my concentration wavered, the barely-formed Ink Qi scattered like dust. I clicked my tongue, dwelling on the disappointment. So that's all it was. One of the reasons I'd failed to master the Ink Fist before my regression had been the Ink Qi itself — no matter what I tried, I could never reproduce that hard, resilient mana Kwonwang wielded. And it was just mana mashed together? A hollow feeling washed over me — but that didn't make it easy.

Since I'd begun training under Kwonwang, I'd been practicing with everything I had, yet the total Ink Qi I could produce amounted to barely a handful. With that much, I could manage a single stroke at most.

The Ink Fist consists of eight strokes in total. Each successive stroke raised its power, and the eighth — the ultimate technique — boasted S-rank, top-tier destructive force on its own. I have to master it. To win this Guild War, I needed to acquire the Hyunmu Ink Fist and use it to reinforce the Nameless Spear Art.

I closed my eyes once more and gathered my mana. Pat! Black energy bloomed thick and heavy, and I slowly guided it along my hand, binding it firmly to my fist. "..."

The Ink Qi held on by a thread. Without breaking form, I drove my fist straight forward.

KGUUNG!

The shockwave of the strike rumbled out, deep and heavy — the fundamental form of the Ink Fist, executed in full.

"Hah...!"

Beads of sweat prickled at my brow. This was hard. Unlike the Blue Dragon Seven Forms, which I'd managed to overcome with effort and analysis, the Hyunmu Ink Fist was a pure test of qi control — control was the yardstick of mastery itself.

Gather the energy, forge the Ink Qi, channel it into the fist, and trace the form. Even a single opening strike demanded all of that — and I was supposed to chain the process eight times without pause, flowing like water?

Infuriatingly difficult. Never in my wildest dreams had I imagined the Ink Fist would be what tripped me up.

"Disciple."

The moment I tried to gather the Ink Qi once more, Kwonwang blocked my path, his eyes narrowing. "You seem to be troubled by something."

"...You noticed?"

"Kwahaha! A master who can't read his disciple's face ought to be disqualified!"

I gave a bitter smile and laid out my problem. Kwonwang listened, then tilted his head slightly. "I see. So that's the issue."

And then, as though it were nothing at all — as though it were the lightest remark in the world — he said it.

"Disciple. You have no talent for fist arts."

"...I'm sorry, what?"

"Stop using your fists. There's nothing to gain from them."

Was he telling me to give up on the Ink Fist entirely? Confusion flashed through me, and I opened my mouth to argue — "That's not—"

"Because instead of fists, you've got a talent for wielding something else entirely!"

Kwonwang thrust his enormous face right up to mine, eyes gleaming.

"What you must wield is not the Ink Fist. It is the Ink Spear."