Episode 12

“Hah… hah…”

Gasping for breath, utterly exhausted and mentally numb, Bi Sa-yeong suddenly recalled the last day he had stormed out of the Bi clan’s sect.

“Big Brother Dae! I’ll go to the front lines! If even you leave, our Bi clan might truly be doomed!”

“Shut up! The Bi clan is already finished! It’s my duty as your big brother to take revenge!”

Those were the last words he heard before he bolted from the sect and headed straight to the battlefield.

The Bi clan, to which Bi Sa-yeong belonged as a member of the 7th squad of the 13th generation of the Flying Dragon, was in ruins.

Though a few disciples and one master still remained, it was clear the clan was on the brink of extinction.

Their internal energy cultivation method had been lost after their master and senior disciples perished during the Bloody Battle of Muhwang Pass.

While they had no renowned peak-level experts, the Bi clan was famed throughout the martial world for their exceptional lightness skill. Losing their internal energy cultivation was tantamount to a death sentence.

Without internal energy, their lightness skill was nothing more than simple footwork.

Bi Sa-yeong had volunteered to go to the front lines because he lacked the confidence to send the younger disciples.

With their internal energy cultivation lost, the Bi clan disciples stood no chance against the demonic forces of the Blood Sect. If they were to die, he believed it was only right that he, as the big brother, should be the first.

Besides, he wanted to take revenge—even if only against a single demon—rather than cling to a dying sect.

But there was one thing he hadn’t anticipated.

That among the enemies on the front lines, there would be disciples from the Jeomchang Sect—just as hateful as the Blood Sect—and that he would have to fight alongside them, in the same squad, the same generation.

When he first met Joo Tae-kyung, the Jeomchang Swordmaster, who arrogantly introduced himself as a Jeomchang disciple, Bi Sa-yeong had replied with a stern face:

“I am a disciple of the Bi clan.”

Without changing his expression, Joo Tae-kyung had asked back:

“Is there even such a sect?”

Anger welled up inside Bi Sa-yeong, but he held it back.

Maybe the man really didn’t know.

So, suppressing his fury, he explained again:

“My master and senior disciples died during the Bloody Battle of Muhwang Pass.”

The Bloody Battle of Muhwang Pass.

It was a horrific event where martial artists from all over, drawn by a map leading to the Muhwang Pass in Yunnan Province, united to resist the Jeomchang Sect’s greed as they tried to seize the treasure for themselves. In the end, the pass collapsed, and not only the martial artists but even the Jeomchang Sect were annihilated.

Weakened by this, the Jeomchang Sect soon lost their headquarters to the Blood Sect’s assault, ceding all of Yunnan to their control.

All of it was part of the Blood Sect’s conspiracy.

They had predicted the Jeomchang Sect’s greed and interference perfectly.

But no matter how much it was a conspiracy by the Blood Sect, to those involved in the Bloody Battle of Muhwang Pass, the Jeomchang Sect was no different from the Blood Sect.

They were the ones who, claiming the Muhwang Pass as their own, had killed countless martial artists and forced the resisting fighters into the pass, causing the tragedy.

For Bi Sa-yeong, the Jeomchang Sect was the sworn enemy of his clan, just like the Blood Sect—and the very reason Yunnan had fallen to the Blood Sect.

Yet despite all this, Bi Sa-yeong didn’t expect much.

He knew it would be nearly impossible to get an apology from a first-rate Jeomchang swordsman.

Though even thinking about it was humiliating, he thought that if only he could see a hint of guilt or remorse on their faces, it might bring some comfort.

But Joo Tae-kyung only sneered and retorted:

“Oh? So your sect elders died because of their greed? And what of it? Are you proud of that?”

The moment he heard that bitter laugh and tone, Bi Sa-yeong lost his composure.

He howled like a beast and lunged at him.

“Isn’t it because of you?! That disaster happened because of you Jeomchang bastards!”

Joo Tae-kyung scoffed and, as if waiting for this, struck back with a sharp blow charged with internal energy.

In that brief moment, Bi Sa-yeong felt the genuine intent to kill.

But just as Joo Tae-kyung’s sword was about to pierce his throat, when he was powerless to stop it and resigned to death, Squad Leader Seol Poong intervened, blocking the attack.

It was a moment between life and death.

Under Seol Poong’s fierce gaze, Joo Tae-kyung lost his enthusiasm, sneered, and left with his followers.

“Next time you insult the Jeomchang Sect, I’ll make sure to kill you,” he warned.

Bi Sa-yeong was crushed.

He felt utterly powerless and pathetic.

Life after that day was no different.

With his mere second-rate skill level, he couldn’t even take down a single demon, let alone Joo Tae-kyung.

To defeat even the most common low-level demon, one had to reach at least first-rate, the level of a sword energy merchant.

But with only basic cultivation methods, Bi Sa-yeong’s level was capped at second-rate, no matter how long he trained.

Everything felt so unfair and meaningless.

Seol Poong had once offered to train him, but he had firmly refused.

He hated being pitied as weak more than death itself.

So he lived like that.

Or rather, if living means having a goal and pursuing it, then he was barely alive—just breathing.

Then, a month ago, a madman joined his squad.

A fellow martial artist, also only second-rate, but plump and heavy—hardly the image of a warrior.

Yet this madman immediately clashed with Joo Tae-kyung on his very first day.

He provoked him by calling him “Jeomchang Swordmaster,” the nickname he hated most, and taunted that he could beat him in a month or two.

Truly reckless.

But that madness felt exhilarating to Bi Sa-yeong.

Maybe that’s why he pretended to fall for the provocations and joined the training.

But from the very next day, he realized it was a foolish mistake.

If only he hadn’t done that, he wouldn’t be this exhausted now.

Panting in frustration atop a tree branch, Bi Sa-yeong saw Seol Poong, clad in a vest weighted with thirty steel plates and even blindfolded, lightly flying away through the trees.

Though his internal energy was lacking, Bi Sa-yeong had prided himself on his lightness skill, believing he could keep up with peak masters for short bursts.

Still, it was a blow to his pride.

But there was no choice.

After a month of pushing himself to the limit, he could barely keep up with the squad leader for half a shijin—about an hour.

“Huff… huff… damn it.”

Exhausted to the point of death, he refused to give up.

Giving up was worse than death.

Especially since that madman was still behind him.

“Hahaha! Sa-yeong! Already broken down after just half a shijin? Soon I’ll catch up to you! Hahaha!”

Sunwoo Jin was definitely crazy.

He kept falling from the trees, hanging on desperately, his body covered in dirt from multiple falls.

Today, his face was caked in mud, eyes bloodshot, yet he kept scrambling up the branches with fierce determination.

How he could laugh like that in such a state was beyond Bi Sa-yeong’s understanding.

But seeing him, Bi Sa-yeong gritted his teeth and forced himself up.

He would never lose to that guy.

Sunwoo Jin had become remarkably agile compared to a month ago.

Now he had an average build, but to compensate for his lost weight, he had strapped on steel plates and was running with the added burden.

Bi Sa-yeong would rather die than lose to someone of the same second-rate level, especially one carrying heavier steel armor.

Besides, Sunwoo Jin was learning the Bi clan’s internal energy cultivation method from him.

Sunwoo Jin had come to him just three days after training began, asking for help.

“Bi-hyung, to be honest, I’ve never properly learned the lightness skill. I’m at a loss on how to keep up with the squad leader’s training. Could you help me?”

Bi Sa-yeong liked the guy already—he had come humbly asking for help.

So he asked how he could assist.

Sunwoo Jin cautiously asked:

“Could you teach me your Bi clan’s lightness skill? Not the secret techniques, just the basics. And I’m not asking for free—I know a pretty good internal energy cultivation method. I can teach you that instead of the lightness skill.”

Bi Sa-yeong was surprised.

He desperately needed a cultivation method.

The offer was tempting, but his pride wouldn’t let him answer immediately.

Sunwoo Jin, looking dejected, said:

“Looks like that’s still not enough. It’s a pretty solid heart technique, but it’d be a shame to trade it for something like the Bijeong Heart Method. I completely understand.”

Bisa-yeong barely held back a pleased smile.

Honestly, this was the first time he’d met someone who acknowledged the sect’s heart techniques so openly.

Clearing his throat, he turned to the downcast Seon Woo-jin and explained, “The sect’s heart methods are so advanced that they’re not easily passed on. But with many elders having passed, I’m practically the head disciple now. And since we’re comrades, I can teach you the basics…”

Seon Woo-jin’s face lit up as if he wanted to jump for joy. Grasping Bisa-yeong’s hand, he kept thanking him over and over.

Through this, Bisa-yeong passed on the Bijeong Heart Method to Seon Woo-jin and, in turn, learned the proper internal energy heart technique called the ‘Kwaiui Heart Method.’

This was the heart technique of the Kwaiui Sect, which had been wiped out decades ago. That sect was also famous for its Gyeongshin Method, making it the perfect fit for Bisa-yeong to master.

In truth, Seon Woo-jin and Seol Poong had secretly discussed and selected a heart technique suitable for Bisa-yeong from among those they knew—but Bisa-yeong had no idea.

Nor did he know that Seon Woo-jin had already learned the Bijeong Heart Method from him in a previous life.

Regardless, driven by stubborn pride that he would never lose to Seon Woo-jin, Bisa-yeong pushed himself up and started running again.

Though he barely noticed it himself, learning a proper internal energy heart technique was breaking through the stagnation in his cultivation, and his level was rising once more.

Seol Poong’s dawn training usually involved running atop trees for about an hour, then sprinting at top speed for another hour while catching insects with swift hand and foot movements.

But for the others, even the first hour was their limit.

So when Seol Poong set off again, the rest would practice breathing exercises and then hone their weapon skills in the clearing—a routine thanks to Seon Woo-jin.

At first, they rested after breathing exercises for about a week. But after losing some weight, Seon Woo-jin insisted it was nothing and stubbornly got up to swing his sword again.

Bisa-yeong, who felt like he couldn’t move no matter what, had no choice but to grit his teeth and rise again after Seon Woo-jin’s pitying glance and words.

“Bisa hyung, Bae hyung, are you both really that tired? More than I expected… hmm…”

He didn’t finish the sentence, but the disappointed look in his eyes made it clear what he meant.

Feeling a surge of emotion, Bisa-yeong jumped up and shouted, “This is nothing! I’m not tired at all!”

“Me too!” Seon Woo-jin echoed.

The strange thing was, even when they felt like they were about to die, once they got up like that, their bodies moved again.

As they practiced weapon techniques, Seol Poong would return from his sprint training and offer advice.

But what Bisa-yeong truly dreaded wasn’t the morning training—it was the external martial arts practice starting after lunch.

Though Bae Jong-gwan was his friend, Bisa-yeong always thought his external training was pointless.

What use was toughening the skin when facing opponents who could tear trees apart with bare hands or shatter rocks, and who wouldn’t even be scratched unless the minimum sword energy was unleashed?

On top of that, the external training involved smearing strange-smelling herbs on the body and self-inflicting injuries with split bamboo sticks and clubs—a spectacle so embarrassing it was painful to watch.

So Bisa-yeong was determined not to fall for Seon Woo-jin’s provocations on this matter.

“I understand. This training is just too painful for you to endure, Bisa hyung.”

“Hmph! Don’t provoke me! No matter what, I won’t do that!”

Seon Woo-jin nodded and said to Bae Jong-gwan, “Looks like Bisa hyung’s embarrassed by us too. It can’t be helped. Sharing shame is something only true friends can do, isn’t it?”

Bisa-yeong was left speechless.

Bae Jong-gwan was looking at him with a hurt expression.

“N-no, it’s not that I’m embarrassed…”

But given Bisa-yeong’s nature—thinking lying was unmanly—he couldn’t bring himself to say more.

Besides, he was embarrassed, after all.

Suddenly, Seon Woo-jin’s words made sense.

Wasn’t a true friend—and a real man—someone who didn’t shy away from embarrassment and could share it together?

In the end, Bisa-yeong had no choice but to stand up.

“Damn it! Let’s do it together! We can do it if we’re together!”

From then on, the thirteen of them could be seen slapping each other’s bare skin with bamboo sticks, screaming in pain.

Even more unsettling was Bae Jong-gwan’s grin stretching from ear to ear as he cheerfully swung the bamboo at his friends—a truly perverse sight.

“Ha ha ha! Training together makes it so much easier and faster! It’s even fun! Thanks, friends! You really are my true friends! Ha ha ha!”

Watching the red welts swell on his skin from the bamboo strikes, Bisa-yeong deeply regretted ever agreeing to do this.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“Ugh! Agh! Kyaa!”

But he couldn’t say he wanted to stop.

Giving up now would mean admitting he wasn’t a true friend.

Tears threatened to spill.

After another meal, evening training was sparring under Seol Poong’s leadership with the others.

For this, Bisa-yeong was genuinely grateful.

Having the top master Seol Poong personally spar and offer advice was a rare opportunity they wouldn’t get anywhere else.

Yet, surprisingly, the most valuable lessons came not from Seol Poong but from watching Seon Woo-jin fight.

Losing to Seol Poong wasn’t shocking—he was a supreme master, and it was natural that Bisa-yeong couldn’t match him.

But watching Seon Woo-jin, Bisa-yeong painfully realized that his weakness wasn’t due to lacking internal energy—it was simply because he was a poor fighter.

With precise judgment and proper responses, even a second-rate practitioner could hold their own against a top master.

Seon Woo-jin was proving that with his own body.

This revelation shocked both Bisa-yeong and Bae Jong-gwan deeply.

They finally understood why Seon Woo-jin had provoked the first-rate warrior Joo Tae-gyeong.

He truly had confidence.

Bisa-yeong reflected on his own laziness, having used the excuse of incomplete internal heart techniques to slack off on training.

It was a realization akin to breaking free from an egg.

And now, after a long time, Bisa-yeong felt truly alive—vividly, unmistakably alive.