Consciousness returned. The cold floor pressed firmly against the back of my head. I tried to push myself up with my hands, but my arms wouldn’t cooperate, and I collapsed back onto the ground.
Not just my arms—my legs were just as unresponsive. It felt as if the nerve bundles in my arms and legs had been severed.
Unable to even turn my neck properly, I heard Gwak Jindo’s voice beside me.
“Awake, are you?”
“Yes.”
My voice was barely a whisper, barely able to squeeze out the words. Overall, I had no strength. It wasn’t exhaustion slowing me down—rather, it was a strange sensation of power completely drained from my body.
“You have no strength in your body, huh?”
“Yes. Could it be the Juhwaipma again?”
“If that were the case, there’d be blood coming out of your mouth instead of words.”
Like a dead Palchoeo flopping hopelessly on the ground, a shadow slowly loomed over me. No matter how immobile I was, the sensation of the Sangdanjeon was still alive. In fact, being restricted seemed to have sharpened my senses.
Soon, Gwak Jindo’s face appeared right above mine. His expression seemed almost amused.
“You know, don’t you?”
“Know what?”
I narrowed my eyes with all my strength.
“Why I ended up like this.”
“I do. I just didn’t expect anyone these days to make such a foolish mistake.”
It seemed Gwak Jindo’s constant smirking would get tiresome if I just let it be. I slowly spread my Naegong through the Sangdanjeon.
But my Naegong was barely a grain of millet; I couldn’t even sense it properly. Gwak Jindo looked at me as if he had no idea what I was doing.
“Still, you’re holding a pretty composed posture. Someone your age experiencing those symptoms would be bawling and clinging to their parents.”
“At this level of symptoms, I think even a saint would be crying.”
“If they were a saint, they wouldn’t make such mistakes.”
He kept calling it a mistake, so I must have made some fundamental errors. I checked my Sangdanjeon, starting with the heart, liver, and other organs, then my arms and legs.
Since it was a basic mistake, it was clear something was wrong. Not a single drop of Qi remained in my body. No matter how much effort you exert, at least some muscle strength should remain.
But my body had squeezed out every last bit and reached its limit.
Was that even possible? I carefully examined all the points—Cheonjo, Seongi, Okdang, Danjung, Geogwol, Gumi—but found no signs of Qi stagnation anywhere.
“You look quite relaxed.”
When I remained still, Gwak Jindo said this.
Usually, teasing only works if the other person reacts. His joke was over. He lightly placed his hand on my back and seemed to blow his own energy into me. A cool current spread from my back throughout my body. Gradually, strength returned.
“What you’re experiencing now is called the Chimki Phenomenon. It means you poured all your Naegong into your body without a single drop flowing through. It’s like trying to fight but ending up saying, ‘Please just kill me now.’”
“I don’t think I even swung my arms once. Seems like my Naegong is severely lacking.”
As strength returned, I pushed myself up from the ground. My arms and legs were still weak, but I could move.
“That’s not quite it. Of course, your Naegong is insufficient. But to put it simply, the Mugong you performed was at too advanced a level, causing this phenomenon.”
“So, you mean it doesn’t match my level?”
Gwak Jindo paused at my question and rolled his eyes. After a moment, he spoke cautiously.
“It’s a bit of a dilemma. Compared to your level of Naegong, it was indeed advanced Mugong. But on the other hand, since your Naegong was so lacking, you exerted the techniques perfectly without even swinging your arms and then fainted. It’s a rare case. Usually, this only happens to high-level experts whose Danjeon isn’t normal due to Juhwaipma.”
I narrowed my eyes. I didn’t even know what the Chimki Phenomenon was. I thought I had at least some trivia about Mugong, but this was beyond trivia—it was a fundamental blunder.
“So I’m both understanding it and not at the same time, huh.”
“You just pushed yourself too hard, like a fool.”
“Now I get it.”
It was similar to how overexertion would leave you barely able to move the next day.
“So, it means it’ll return to normal over time?”
“Yeah. It should recover after half a day.”
“On the other hand, I have to lie here powerless for half a day, huh.”
“That’s actually a good thing.”
His voice was different from usual, so I warmed up and looked at Gwak Jindo’s face. His expression had turned serious.
“You have a lot to say, don’t you?”
“What’s there to say?”
He opened his mouth but paused to take a breath before speaking.
“As I told you before, the Mugong you used is the Namhae Sibigeom.”
“Yes.”
“And it’s one of Hae Nam Pa’s Bu-chul secret techniques.”
I had to carefully choose my words.
Every noble family’s sect had a Bu-chul secret technique. It was never taught to outsiders or even to lower-ranked disciples to prevent enemies from learning it.
In the Hwasan Sect, for example, primary disciples were taught the Jaha Divine Art, while the inner disciples learned Jahasamgyeol.
“I see.”
“If someone outside the sect learns the Bu-chul secret, everyone in that sect will try to kill them no matter how they obtained it.”
Gwak Jindo looked at me and continued.
“That’s only natural. If the Mugong they’ve cultivated reaches the market, then their own level is market-grade. Especially if it’s something like Shaolin’s Geumgangbanya Divine Art that only sworn disciples can master—they’d chase and kill you even overseas. Though that would be rare.”
“What about cases like the Outer General altering the technique as he did?”
“Making variations is fine, but the original sect has to approve the implementation first. They review the similarities and Qi flow. If it passes, a derivative Mugong is born.”
The Gangho moved in more complicated ways than I thought. But I had something to say confidently.
“I didn’t learn the Hae Nam Pa’s sword technique through formal training. I only slightly modified my family’s Igungcheonroe Sword Technique.”
“Right. I should have said that earlier. You probably guessed it—this Igungcheonroe Sword Technique is a Mugong I gifted your family. It’s a heavily modified version of the Namhae Sibigeom I learned, and I even gave it my approval as a Hae Nam Pa master.”
That made perfect sense. Though similar in style, one demands deep insight into water, the other into lightning. I could only conclude I had forcibly twisted it.
“You put a lot of thought into modifying it, but you didn’t expect someone would notice, especially someone as small-time as me. It’s absurd to think about now, the flow of Qi and all…”
“So what will happen to me then?”
I asked bluntly, now fully understanding the situation.
“Write it down. It’s complicated. It’s clear you’re not at fault. You didn’t do anything wrong. If there’s any fault, it lies with me for modifying the Mugong you use and with Hae Nam for inspecting it.”
“I see.”
I answered and looked into Gwak Jindo’s eyes. For some reason, a chill brushed the back of my neck.
“I wouldn’t feel wronged even if the Outer General beat me to death right now.”
I took a breath and continued.
“I know it’s not a reason for me to die. But Murim moves not by reason or reputation, but by the logic of power.”
I truly believed that. Having already experienced all kinds of injustice, I understood well.
As I looked into Gwak Jindo’s eyes, he met mine. Even after I finished speaking, the tension between our gazes lingered.
“Heh heh heh.”
Gwak Jindo chuckled lightly. I just stared back. To me, there was no such thing as unexpected behavior from people. The person I imagined was capable of any action.
“Heh ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!”
His chuckle turned into a booming laugh that echoed like a gong. Even while laughing, Gwak Jindo kept his eyes locked on mine.
“Truly, you’re an absurd fellow.”
After a while, his laughter subsided. He then tapped my back and walked over to the training ground where I had earlier used my sword. There, my sword was stuck diagonally in the ground.
Gwak Jindo naturally drew the sword, flicking off the dirt stuck to the blade. The dirt scattered like rain onto the ground, and a sword wind followed.
That sword wind was not merely the result of a fast swing. It carried a ringing sound that made your ears go numb.
“I’ll show you the Namhae Sibigeom once. You should see what kind of Mugong it really is to the end.”
Before swinging, Gwak Jindo looked at me.
“Have you ever seen Namhae?”
“No. I’ve only been inside the household.”
“Of course.”
Understanding that, Gwak Jindo assumed his starting stance.
“For you, it’s faster to show than to explain.”
Gwak Jindo brought his knees together and bent his legs. His sword-bearing arm lowered slightly so that the blade hovered about half a foot above the ground.
I had no idea about such starting stances. Geumgangbanya Divine Art hadn’t taught that. But as soon as I saw it, I realized this stance was not a choice but a necessity.
In this starting stance, I sensed the flow of a tributary before becoming the sea—a rippling river current.
Without a word, Gwak Jindo swung his sword. It was a truly splendid sword dance. He didn’t lower the speed or power out of consideration for me. He simply grasped the Qi flowing through the sword.
The four moves I showed him during the half-day recovery looked like a single move compared to his speed, and the subsequent moves only grew stronger and fiercer like rising waves.
Without a moment to breathe, Gwak Jindo’s sword struck like a wave opening wide to the sky, then leapt and slammed downward.
Even without any Naegong applied, the force of the wind pressed strongly against me.
“Impressive Mugong.”
I commented. Surely, it was a priceless secret that Hae Nam Pa would guard closely.
Despite performing such intense moves, Gwak Jindo approached me without a drop spilled.
“If you were a Hae Nam Pa disciple, they’d kill you after seeing your Namhae Sibigeom. Because then, the sect would award a bounty for you.”
Gwak Jindo looked into my eyes again.
“Usually, if you’re a Hae Nam Pa disciple.”
Our gazes met. In truth, I already knew. Gwak Jindo wouldn’t kill me.
When I said Murim moves by the logic of power, it was just my way of expressing my thoughts. I thought he might laugh at me, but Gwak Jindo could be different and was already warning me.
Even now, I didn’t know exactly what he thought of me.
“But if you reach the position to be accepted as a disciple in Hae Nam, that’s different. Then, just becoming their disciple means passing safely.”
“You were threatening me.”
“Call it a test, following your beloved logic of power.”
“What test?”
“To see your spirit when your throat is suddenly on the brink of death.”
Gwak Jindo smiled sharply.
“Because the path you walk will never be smooth. It’s full of hardships and rugged terrain, so I had to check. But you answered my test. Spirit is the foundation of belief. If you have belief, you already have spirit, so there’s nothing more to say.”
Gwak Jindo said this and handed me the sword scabbard he held.
“Normally, entering as a disciple of the Dae Hae Nam Sword Sect is a grand ceremony. This is all I can do for you.”
“That’s fine.”
Only then did I relax my expression and smile. It was unexpected but definitely a beneficial development. I had gained a trump card in the Gangho.
“You said you didn’t know who I was. I’m Gwak Jindo of Hae Nam Pa, the master of the Cheonryuyuseong Sword.”
“I see. I am Gold-necked Hwan, Youngest Master of the Hwanggeum Family.”
I said so, hesitating briefly, then added,
“Master.”