What in the World Are You?
"The third test will be an internal energy measurement. You will each take your turn with this Internal Energy Measuring Sphere here."
The moment Manbakja finished speaking, joy and sorrow crossed the faces of the Dragons and Phoenixes. Every one of them already knew exactly where their own internal energy stood.
Even at the Dragon and Phoenix Assembly, that proving ground for the heirs of illustrious houses, what settled on the faces of those with unrivaled backgrounds was delight — and what settled on the faces of the Dragons and Phoenixes from comparatively humble families was despair.
To take part in the Assembly was to be a late-stage expert who had reached the Peak Realm before even turning thirty. Under thirty in name, though most were closer to twenty, for the martial world looked upon anyone competing in the Assembly once past the age of thirty as a disgrace. Nearly all orthodox martial arts forbade forming one's dantian before the age of ten, which meant that most of those gathered had been cultivating their dantians and running their heart methods for barely a decade.
Even so, every last one of them had acquired internal power measured in gapja — units of a full sixty-year cycle. They were, after all, the heirs of families each famed for a specialty of its own, and each had mastered some exquisite heart method of his household.
From this, one could draw a simple inference: in terms of pure accumulated energy, hardly anyone here would differ much from anyone else. No matter how refined and advanced orthodox martial arts became, no one could bank internal energy far beyond a single gapja in a mere ten years — not unless he had learned heaven-defying demonic arts, or some unprecedented sorcery like the Star-Absorbing Method.
Which meant that what determined the size of a Dragon's or Phoenix's reserves at this point in time was, in the end, elixirs. Those lavished with precious elixirs would boast deep, abundant energy; those never given the chance to sample them widely would inevitably run short.
It was not hard to arrive at the conclusion that a young master's internal energy rose in direct proportion to the power of the family behind him.
Sparring could not be held for various reasons, so I agreed that measuring internal energy was a valid way to judge martial prowess. But I could hardly disagree, either, with the plain fact that for late-stage experts not yet thirty, the size of one's reserves scaled with one's family's might — a textbook specimen of unfairness.
And yet what could be done? The Jianghu was itself the living proof of an unjust world. Even the one sighing over his humble lineage here was, to someone further down the ladder, the very face of that injustice — such was the nature of the Jianghu.
By the time the third test arrived, a quiet calm by the name of resignation had settled over many a Dragon and Phoenix. Even so, not one of them withdrew.
Just maybe. What if. What if I'm the exception.
Hanging hope on a willful denial of a fact one knows full well — that is why countless souls fall captive to the gambling table.
In any case, the conclusion of my long-winded digression is this: if the second test had been a contest of gear, the third was a contest of elixirs.
For me — a man who had mastered the Yakseon Heart Decision and consumed supreme elixirs such as the Empty Blue Stone Milk and the Vermilion Fruit — this test, too, was little more than a foregone conclusion.
"What are we supposed to do?"
One late-stage expert, brimming with curiosity, raised his hand and put the question to Manbakja. The instrument called the Internal Energy Measuring Sphere was unlike anything he had seen in his life, so the reaction was only natural.
"Simply press the center of your palm against the Measuring Sphere and release your internal energy. That is all there is to it. And should you want a pointer — try running it by the same principle you would when manifesting sword qi."
At that word pointer, the ears of the Dragons and Phoenixes all pricked up. The amount of energy one has accumulated and the amount one can actually put out are two very different things.
Accumulation is a matter of hours spent running one's heart method and of elixirs consumed. Its release, however, can vary wildly depending on one's enlightenment, on the strength and purity of one's meridians, on the very character of one's martial art.
Resolute will kindled anew in faces that had gone stoic. Watching them, Manbakja allowed himself a sly grin. He had aimed for exactly this, no doubt about it.
"Amitabha. Would it be permissible for this humble monk to take the test first?"
The first to step forward was a late-stage expert of Shaolin. Even though the Assembly was being hosted by his own order, he had shown no particular distinction until now — at last, he had seized his chance.
Information about him surfaced unbidden in my mind.
Great Vajra, Unso.
By the time the Great War of Righteousness and Evil broke out, he stood as one of the Four Great Vajras — a pillar of the orthodox sects, holding firm against the Demonic Cult. I remembered him looking far more imposing and stalwart than he did now, a far cry from the impetuous youth before me. That difference, presumably, was growth.
And with it came the beggar-gang intel from my previous life: this young monk had been showered with his order's grace as a child, and had been granted Shaolin's Great Restoration Pill.
Unso cautiously raised his hand. "Would it be all right to use palm force?"
"It will be fine."
"Thank you."
With a slight bow, Unso took a horse stance before the Measuring Sphere. At once, interest stirred across the faces of the assembled experts. They had caught the meaning of that stance.
The horse stance is called the foundation of all martial arts, yet arts that actually open with it are rarer than one might think. The most famous among them would be the Supreme Learning — counted among the most difficult of all of Shaolin's Seventy-Two Consummate Arts.
"Amitaaabha!"
The Hundred-Step Divine Fist. By another name, the Arhat Divine Fist.
Monstrous force erupted from Unso's palm — such overwhelming momentum that it seemed the sphere would be ground to powder. And yet—
Sss-ts-ts.
The Internal Energy Measuring Sphere drank down Unso's internal energy like a heaven-defying master running the Star-Absorbing Method at its zenith.
"Krruugh!"
As though locked in a duel of internal power with the sphere, Unso wrestled on — and it was only after seven breaths had passed that his palm finally dropped. His expression was not a happy one; evidently the result pleased him less than he had hoped.
And then something remarkable happened.
Wuuuum — half of the Internal Energy Measuring Sphere had begun to glow like a night-luminous pearl.
"Ho ho. Splendid. Might you have taken the Great Restoration Pill, by chance?"
"Amitabha."
Unso hastily schooled his features and pressed his palms together. No warrior in the Jianghu surrenders his secrets so readily.
Manbakja's gaze swept across the gathered experts. "That is how the test will proceed. Quite simple, no?"
Even with the Great Restoration Pill behind him, the sphere had lit up only half. By no means was this an easy test.
"Kraaaagh!"
Screams rang out across the testing grounds, one after another.
"Hahaha! Magnificent!"
Every one of them punctuated by Manbakja's delighted commentary.
The experts who had finished their turn with the Measuring Sphere lay collapsed in heaps, unable to master the limp exhaustion in their limbs. It looked less as though they had measured their internal energy and more as though it had been robbed from them.
"Kraaaagh!"
Another sacrificial lamb took the stage.
"Hahahaha! A third of it lit! You're quite impressive yourself!"
Manbakja rejoiced yet again. Watching this, I understood why he ranked among the very top of the Jianghu's eccentric masters.
The experts who had assumed Unso's half-lit sphere was unimpressive had no choice but to revise their thinking. Not one of the confident souls who had stepped up after him managed to light so much as a third — and considering the efficacy of the Great Restoration Pill, a pill beyond all price, that was only to be expected.
"Hak of the Dancheon Clan. Come forward."
When Dancheon Hak's turn finally came, the attention of every late-stage expert converged upon him. He had delivered remarkable results in the first and second tests, so such scrutiny was only natural.
With quiet, measured steps, Dancheon Hak took his place before the Measuring Sphere. At some point he had stopped being conscious of me entirely; what he showed now was the bearing of a warrior wholly given over to himself, honing his edge without pause.
Naturally — as heir to a great family, Dancheon Hak had been fed elixirs since childhood. Not to the level of taking them like rice, perhaps, but certainly like nourishing tonics. He owed that to his mother Baek Yeo-hae's wealth, her competence, and her utterly devoted care.
Dancheon Hak carefully brought the center of his palm to the sphere.
"Kraaaagh!"
A scream not so very different from those of the experts who had gone before him. But there was a difference.
"Kraaaaaagh!"
Unlike the others, his scream did not break off. Far outlasting the seven breaths Unso had endured, Dancheon Hak held on for ten.
"Haah... haah... haah..."
His breathing was far more ragged and labored than it had been during the lightness-skill test.
The Measuring Sphere lit up. A shade short of a third — a figure that laid the Dancheon Clan's current standing bare for all to see. A famed martial house that held sway over Anhui, yes, but one that could not quite stand beside the Five Great Families or the Nine Sects and One Gang.
Even so, satisfaction suffused Manbakja's face.
"Splendid."
Proof enough: for the first time since Unso, the word out of his mouth was not magnificent, but splendid.
"Thank you."
Dancheon Hak bowed his head and withdrew. Wearier than any of the experts before him, yet out of his lofty pride he refused to crumple where he stood. And then his eyes came to rest on me.
"Yi Chun-baek the Vagabond. Come forward."
"I'll be abstaining."
Every Dragon and Phoenix froze in astonishment.
"Hmm. I see."
Manbakja asked no reason. Befitting the name Manbakja — perhaps he knew something, or perhaps he simply didn't care. I couldn't tell which.
In any case—
"Myeong of the Dancheon Clan. Come forward."
My turn had arrived.
Every gaze on the grounds fixed itself on me. Having swept both the first and second tests, I drew even more attention than Dancheon Hak had.
In truth, the two figures who commanded the most interest at this Assembly had both come out of the Dancheon Clan — a blessing upon the family, truly.
"Hoo—"
There was no tension in me. With overwhelming results in the first two tests behind me, so long as I merely cleared the standard in the third, the title of Dragon was as good as mine. And the standard in question was the Peak Realm — which I had, in effect, already attained.
So I deliberated. How much to show? How far to bare?
The deliberation did not last long. What reason was there to hide? Had I not entered the Dragon and Phoenix Assembly precisely to put myself on display and prove my worth?
I brought the center of my palm to the Measuring Sphere.
A prickling sting. Unlike every Dragon and Phoenix who had screamed, I hardly felt any pain at all.
"Hmm?"
Manbakja watched me — the one who had not screamed — with obvious fascination.
Paying him no mind, I raised the Dancheon Heart Method. I could feel my internal energy racing in swift circulation along the Conception and Governing Vessels. Ordinarily those twin vessels are only forced open as one approaches the Harmony Realm, but I — an existence who had forged a single, unified dantian — was the exception. Naturally, my outflow of energy was bound to be extraordinary as well.
Sss-ts-ts. The Measuring Sphere took my energy in roughly, greedily. Kwoooooo — as if answering its appetite, I poured out still more, and the reserves brimming in my dantian did not take long to run dry.
Intent on the effort, I couldn't count precisely, but it must have been around ten breaths.
And then something happened that even I had not foreseen. The moment my dantian emptied, the energies of the Empty Blue Stone Milk lying dormant in every meridian of my body stirred awake.
Sss-ts-ts. Kwoooooo. My internal energy and the Measuring Sphere collided fiercely once more. I had not even lifted my palm away, yet the sphere began to blaze as bright as a night-luminous pearl.
Manbakja's eyes had gone round — and beyond that, his mouth hung wide open.
How many breaths passed in that state?
Crack. A fracture split across the Internal Energy Measuring Sphere, and the light died.
"…"
Manbakja, who had offered some remark after every expert's test, never opened his mouth.
"May I step down?"
It had happened in the middle of the test, so surely I wouldn't be held liable for damages — or so I thought.
Manbakja stopped me as I made to move.
"You."
He paused, choosing his words.
"What in the world are you?"
I understood exactly what he was after. But—
"That's a secret."
Where in the Jianghu is there a warrior who lays his secrets bare?
I favored Manbakja with a fresh, blooming smile — a courtesy of the Vermilion Fruit — and withdrew. Every late-stage expert's eyes were fastened on me; Namgung Tan alone was not looking my way. Dancheon Hak, for his part, was watching me with a gaze I could not read at all.
Dragons and Phoenixes. To them — the idols I had once looked up to — I made a declaration in my heart.
I am Dancheon Myeong, the Number One Under Heaven of days to come.