Correction Begins
A sharp whistle of air cut through the training ground.
"Hmph. Pathetic. You call that an attack?"
With a hollow thunk, Cheon Seol-gyeong twisted his head aside, dodging Han Se-ah's strike, then flicked a finger and knocked her sword clean away.
The blade skittered across the ground with a harsh scrape.
"That isn't even swordsmanship. You're trying to bludgeon someone with a weapon meant for cutting."
As Han Se-ah was driven back, Kang Ji-hwan thrust his sword in a rapid lunge—but Cheon Seol-gyeong simply turned his body and slipped past the attack as if it were nothing.
For nearly an hour the two of them poured sweat into their assault, and not a single blow landed on Cheon Seol-gyeong.
Haa… haa… What the hell is this? What's even happening right now?
Why… why won't any of our attacks connect? Is he really a Death Knight?
Breath burning in their throats, the two of them exhaled hard, their sweat soaking the earth beneath them.
They had attacked without rest for a full hour. How had they failed to leave even the smallest scratch?
Both of them had entered Gates before and hunted Death Knights. But the one standing in front of them was nothing like anything they had ever faced.
"Hey, Baek Do-ha. What exactly were you expecting when you made me spar with these two?"
Cheon Seol-gyeong's face twisted with open disappointment.
Their auras had been strong enough that he'd expected something entertaining. Instead, they were operating at the level of third-rate martial artists. They couldn't properly control their formidable energy, and their swords had no path. They felt like ordinary people who had simply gorged themselves on spiritual elixirs.
Baek Do-ha?
A's real name is Baek Do-ha?
"Ugh, that damn bastard. Just blurting out someone else's name like that."
Do-ha, who had been sitting off to the side, sighed and rose to his feet.
He had intended to reveal his name and face eventually—but not like this, through someone else's mouth.
"I've seen enough of your skills."
"…"
"…"
At Do-ha's words, both of them fell silent.
They hadn't even managed to suppress a Death Knight summoned by a necromancer—let alone the necromancer himself.
"Th-then… are we eliminated?"
"Eliminated from what?"
Do-ha tilted his head at Kang Ji-hwan's question, genuinely puzzled by the sudden talk of elimination.
"Our skills fell short of your expectations, so… aren't you just going to send us away?"
"Of course not. You both fought well."
"Hmph. Nonsense."
Unlike Do-ha's encouragement, Cheon Seol-gyeong snorted in contempt.
But contrary to Cheon Seol-gyeong's assessment, Do-ha genuinely thought highly of the two of them.
These two climbed this high without a guide.
Cheon Seol-gyeong almost certainly still believed he was in Belhart. That meant his standards were those of the Central Plains Murim. Measured by the standards of Awakened Hunters, these two had clawed their way to this level through sheer personal effort alone.
"Ignore that guy. You really did fight well. Honestly, I'm a little impressed. There's no proper path laid out for you, and yet you've reached this level on effort alone."
"Whoever taught these brats must be a complete waste of a master. Hey, you two—quit whatever martial hall you're attending right now."
"Ah, shut up."
Do-ha flicked his hand. Cheon Seol-gyeong's mouth snapped shut.
"What on earth is that…"
"Don't worry about it."
"We're grateful for the kind words, but A—no, Do-ha-nim—the fact remains that we couldn't even handle that Death Knight you summoned…"
Kang Ji-hwan's expression crumpled with defeat.
They couldn't properly face a single summon. How could they claim a place among the Divine 200?
"Don't lose heart. That one is a little special. Right now, there's probably no one on Earth who could beat him."
"What?"
"Anyway, you're not weak. So don't get discouraged."
Do-ha stretched out his hand. With a sharp whistle of air, the Un-jeop-bi-jang that had been standing against the bench flew into his grip.
"Association President."
"Yes?"
Seated on the bench, sharing a drink with Canteas, the Association President looked up.
The space had shifted, leaving him stranded with nowhere to go, so he had simply stayed put.
"You should come over here as well, Association President."
"Excuse me?? Why suddenly me…"
"Because it isn't just these two who need to get stronger. You do too."
Now that a connection to the world of Belhart had been established, the Demon God Cult would only grow more active. For the moment, Do-ha had set them against New Age, so they would be preoccupied—but that wouldn't last forever.
Or they might even join forces.
They could fight long enough to gauge each other's strength, decide cooperation was useful, and form an alliance. Of course, an alliance wouldn't make things worse for him. If anything, it would be convenient—he could wipe them both out in one stroke.
Well, maybe not.
Either way, it was time for him to start moving as well.
"Come on over."
"Ah… no, Association work alone is already overwhelming… I don't have time to learn anything from anyone."
"Don't worry. I'll teach you the accelerated course."
"…"
The Association President looked at Kang Ji-hwan and Han Se-ah.
I bring these damn kids along, and this is what I get…
"Correction begins now."
Do-ha released a cold, cutting aura.
"Take a short rest."
"Uwaaah…"
Something clattered to the ground.
The moment Do-ha finished speaking, all three of them collapsed at once.
They had attacked for more than two hours and accomplished absolutely nothing. Facing the Death Knight had felt like hitting a wall. Facing Baek Do-ha felt like standing before a mountain.
"Is every Cheonwaecheon… this strong?"
"No way… that guy's just weird…"
"You two still have the energy to talk… I feel like I'm going to throw up…"
The Association President, who spent his days wrestling with paperwork, had gone so long without real physical exertion that his lips had turned blue. The only reason he was still conscious at all was that he had once been strong and durable enough to earn the name Red Slaughterer.
"Han Se-ah."
"Yes…"
At Do-ha's call, she slowly pushed herself up from the ground.
"From now on, you will learn martial arts from me."
"…Excuse me?"
She tilted her head at the sudden declaration.
Martial arts? Did he mean the kind of power Chinese Hunters used?
"More precisely, you'll learn poison arts and hidden weapons techniques. Forget everything you've trained in until now."
After watching her for more than three hours, he was certain: her movements were nothing like a knight's. She had fought with a sword until now, yes—but only by forcing her way through with overwhelming energy and genius-level instincts.
Eyes that track an opponent's movement to the very end. A mind that calculates where they'll go next…
Han Se-ah was not built for frontal combat. She was far closer to the Sichuan Tang Clan's style.
"P-poison arts… does that mean I have to handle poison? And hidden weapons techniques mean hiding and throwing concealed weapons??"
"That's right."
"…"
Han Se-ah's face went blank with shock.
She had used a sword for nearly ten years. What was this supposed to mean?
"You will never achieve greatness with the sword. This is as far as you go with it."
It was a cruel thing to say, but she needed the truth. If she kept clinging to the blade, her growth would stop here and never advance again.
"And learning those two arts doesn't mean you stop using a sword entirely. Hidden weapons techniques use blades too. But your main focus will be poison arts and hidden weapons."
"…"
"If you came here to learn from me, then trust me once. It'll feel like putting on clothes that finally fit."
"Yes."
Hearing the absolute certainty in Do-ha's voice, she nodded.
It wasn't that she didn't trust him. She was simply reluctant to set aside ten years of training.
"Kang Ji-hwan."
"Yes."
He was already on his feet and stepped closer.
Do I have to put down my sword and learn something else too?
"You're putting down the sword as well."
"Then am I learning poison arts and hidden weapons too?"
"No. You won't hold any weapon at all."
"…Excuse me??"
The completely unexpected answer left Kang Ji-hwan flustered.
If he didn't hold a weapon, what was he supposed to fight with?
"From now on, these are your weapons."
Do-ha lifted Kang Ji-hwan's arms, then tapped both of his feet.
"I'll teach you the Formless Diamond Art."
"?! Mmph!"
At the words Formless Diamond Art, Cheon Seol-gyeong—who had been sitting still—suddenly thrashed.
"What? What's with you all of a sudden?"
Canteas gave a casual wave of his hand, and Cheon Seol-gyeong's sealed mouth opened again.
"Baek Do-ha! How the hell do you know the Formless Diamond Art?!"
The Formless Diamond Art.
It was a martial art said to have been created by an enlightened Buddha who, on the verge of entering nirvana, could not turn away from the sorrow and suffering left in the world—and so descended once more, walking into hell of his own will.
It was a technique saturated with the demon-subduing nature of Pama, and it had vanished centuries ago. Most Shaolin arts carried some measure of Pama energy, but the Formless Diamond Art stood in a class of its own.
"How in the world did you— Mmph!"
Finding him too loud, Canteas gestured again, and Cheon Seol-gyeong's mouth snapped shut once more.
His reaction was only natural.
What was the most painful chapter in the Heavenly Demon Cult's history? Being driven into the Ten Thousand Great Mountains by the Orthodox and Unorthodox factions? Or Baek Do-ha killing him?
Neither.
It was the incident centuries ago, when Great Master Muryang—a practitioner of the Formless Diamond Art—had purified the demonic energy of the Heavenly Demon himself. Alone, he had cut through an army of hundreds of thousands, entered the heart of the cult, and completely purified the Heavenly Demon's demonic arts. Great Master Muryang had died on the spot, but for the Heavenly Demon Cult, the mere fact that their Heavenly Demon had been purified was a history of humiliation and shame. Even now, merely mentioning the Formless Diamond Art was forbidden within the cult.
"But how do you actually know that technique?"
Even Canteas, who knew what the Formless Diamond Art was, tilted his head in curiosity.
"A long time ago, five Blood Cult elders came after me."
He had only just stepped into the Hwayeong realm. Drunk on arrogance, he had stormed the largest Blood Cult branch alone—and of all days, five elders had been gathered there. Unable to withstand their combined power, Do-ha had thrown himself into flight.
"I was cutting through the mountains to shake them off when I found this tiny little temple. The buildings were shabby, thick with cobwebs, neglected for ages—but I needed somewhere to hide, so I went in. Eventually one of the Blood Cult elders tracked me there. While we were fighting, a Buddha statue shattered… and inside it was the Formless Diamond Art."
"Great Master Muryang must have sealed it inside that small statue."
"Wow. Leaving something that precious just anywhere…"
"That's what made him Great Master Muryang."
When Do-ha killed the Blood Cult elder and claimed the secret manual, he had noticed a small door fitted into the back of the statue.
He probably meant it for whatever monk came to clean the statue.
But the fact that it had sat there for centuries meant no one had ever come. If anyone at all had entered that temple, offered a prayer, and polished the statue, they would have inherited Great Master Muryang's true legacy.
That's why I can't stand those Shaolin bastards.
Their words and actions never matched. Greedier and more self-serving than anyone.
Which is why I never passed the Formless Diamond Art on either.
Do-ha gave a dry little smile.
After fully mastering the Formless Diamond Art, he had hidden the manual—exactly the same way Great Master Muryang had. Deep in some random mountain, he built a tiny temple, set a Buddha statue inside it, and sealed the manual within. He may have stumbled upon the Formless Diamond Art by chance, but he had no intention of obstructing Great Master Muryang's will.
"And Association President."
"Yes."
"You should learn some magic."
"…Excuse me??"
The Association President, who knew exactly how difficult and grueling magic was, recoiled in horror.
He was already drowning in Association work—and now magic?
The Association President uses sword and fire together.
Flames rose along his blade, and he wielded them as naturally as breathing. That meant his path was that of a magic swordsman.