The mana contained within the steel marble, no bigger than a fingertip, was on par with an Aura. No, it wouldn’t even feel out of place to say that it was wrapped in Aura rather than just mana.
Namjin’s pure mana, accumulated over a century, was tangible in its magnitude.
“To be able to pack this much mana into such a tiny marble…”
Taehoo almost clicked his tongue in disbelief at the difficulty of the trial he had just discovered.
Cutting a normal steel marble in half and cutting one wrapped in mana were two entirely different matters.
Especially when that mana belonged to his grandfather, who had reached the demigod level, there was no question about it.
Namjin chuckled heartily at Taehoo’s expression.
“Taehoo, you rascal, not everything in this world is easy, huh?”
It seemed he took great satisfaction in landing a blow on his own grandson.
‘That old man deliberately hid the fact that the marble was wrapped in mana for this exact reason.’
If it had been wrapped in mana in the usual way, Taehoo would have noticed by now.
After all, he was the one who had taken the bullet head-on.
‘And yet, I never sensed anything strange.’
It was utterly colorless and odorless. The energy was concealed, and the mana wrapped around the marble had kept it hidden until now.
What kind of level must one reach to be able to pack mana comparable to Aura into such a tiny steel marble and erase all traces of its presence?
Even a normal, or rather, a top-ranking Hunter wouldn’t have been able to fit even a fraction of Namjin’s mana into it.
And it probably wouldn’t have held its shape either. To shoot it like a bullet was nothing short of mastery.
A monster.
That word naturally came to mind.
‘Even a moment ago, it wasn’t my grip that was the problem. If it weren’t for the Fallen Flower Sword, the blade would have snapped.’
Taehoo thought, feeling the pain climbing up his hand.
“Well, that’s enough for today.”
Namjin still seemed to be savoring the feeling of having outplayed his grandson as he walked out of the Martial Arts Hall with a light step.
His hips swayed as if whistling a tune.
Taehoo watched his grandfather’s back for a moment, then let out a deep sigh.
‘Now I have to use Aura too. The hurdles keep getting higher and higher.’
Using skills and even Aura naturally consumed more concentration than not using them.
Moreover, since this wasn’t a skill like Eye of the Swordsman that activated momentarily, but rather a continuous wrapping of mana around the blade, the difficulty of training inevitably increased.
‘Just when you think you’ve overcome one hurdle, another appears…’
After dinner, Taehoo returned to the Martial Arts Hall, as he always did.
If the daytime was for actual practice, then the evening was for review.
The white walls of the Martial Arts Hall were still embedded with the steel marbles Namjin had shot during the day’s training.
It looked like a constellation embedded in a pure white sky. Taehoo recalled one by one the moments those stars had struck the wall.
He slowly closed his eyes, holding the Fallen Flower Sword in his hand.
How could he have dodged faster? How should he have moved to draw the sword a moment earlier?
Alongside the moments that unfolded beneath his eyelids, these questions followed.
He moved his body as memory instructed.
Tightening his tension, filling every part of his body with strength. Just like in real combat.
Image training was an efficient method for Hunters whose cognitive abilities far surpassed those of ordinary humans.
Of course, bringing it up to actual combat level, like Taehoo did, was another matter altogether.
His concentration was impressive enough to even surprise Ba’al occasionally.
Soon sweat beaded on his forehead. Before him, Namjin had already shot nearly eighty steel marbles like stars.
“Now!”
He caught the timing faster than before.
“This time, wrapping it in Aura…”
As Taehoo wrapped the Fallen Flower Sword in Aura and swung, the blade streaked diagonally through the air, stopping just beside his head.
Sweat dripped down his jawline, falling onto the floor with a soft plop.
“It didn’t touch.”
The moment he wrapped the sword in Aura and swung it, that brief lapse caused the blade to miss the steel marble.
At that moment,
“Training this late?”
A deep voice pierced Taehoo’s ears. Without a trace of surprise, Taehoo sheathed his sword and opened his eyes.
Standing in front of the spot where he had just put away his sword was Gyeonghwan, sounding impressed.
“I thought I’d be the only one using the Martial Arts Hall at this hour.”
“I thought so too,” Taehoo replied lightly.
He had sensed Gyeonghwan’s presence earlier, which was why he hadn’t been startled.
He had deliberately ignored it to avoid breaking his concentration, but he hadn’t expected it to be Gyeonghwan.
His second elder brother, with whom he had barely exchanged a few words in their previous lives.
Aside from fragmented information, he was still an unknown figure.
“Looks like you were reviewing the training you did with Grandfather?”
Gyeonghwan rested his fingers on his chin, speaking as if deducing something.
“You moved flawlessly, but your expression at the end seemed unsatisfied. Considering you infused Aura into the last strike, it must be related. By the way, your Aura color is kind of unusual.”
‘What is he, a detective?’
Like Ba’al’s reaction, Gyeonghwan had deduced quite a lot just from watching Taehoo once.
And most of it was correct.
‘So different from what I’d heard…’
The Taehoo he knew was indifferent to the world and devoted solely to his own training.
The Gyeonghwan who had actually returned to the family was close to that image.
But now, he was completely different.
‘The succession war… Of course, he deserves it.’
Gyeonghwan continued as if Taehoo’s thoughts didn’t matter.
“Well, the color doesn’t matter. Since you only put power into the last strike and seem dissatisfied even after swinging, maybe timing is the issue? If that’s the case…”
“Wait a moment…”
Taehoo cut him off. Or tried to.
A broad-shouldered man with fingers resting on his chin, moving back and forth in front of him, deeply engrossed in deduction—it was not a sight Taehoo was used to.
At that moment,
“How about this?”
Gyeonghwan suddenly thrust his sword before Taehoo’s eyes.
What was he doing?
Before the thought could finish forming, Taehoo was struck by something else.
‘There’s a faint Aura flowing through the sword…’
The sword carried a gentle, bluish-green hue, more vibrant than the clearest ocean.
Judging by the amount, it wasn’t a weapon ready for battle.
Just as a suspicion began to bloom, Gyeonghwan spoke.
“I maintain Aura at this level for 24 hours straight. If timing is the issue, this training method will help a lot.”
For a moment, Taehoo wondered if he had heard correctly.
Using Aura consumed a lot of mental energy, whether the amount of mana used was large or small.
And yet, to sustain it all day long? It was nothing short of incredible focus.
‘This guy’s not right in the head either,’ Ba’al’s reaction echoed in his mind.
Still,
‘That training method is quite good.’
Both Ba’al and Taehoo could agree on that. Especially for Taehoo at this moment, it was even more necessary.
It was a method to dramatically increase the concentration required to manage Aura.
But doubt lingered.
“Why all of a sudden? Why offer help like this?”
“Oh, was it helpful? Then from now on, can I use the training hall too?”
Helping out to pay the training hall’s usage fee? To someone who might threaten his spot?
It was perplexing.
Gyeonghwan smirked looking at Taehoo.
“I just didn’t like your method. It’s kind of funny, the youngest brother who just returned to the family trying to challenge the older one.”
He laid his cards on the table.
“Unlike you, I want to fight on equal footing. So this is just me trying to match your level.”
Having finished speaking, Gyeonghwan withdrew the sword he had extended to Taehoo.
Then,
“Now, would you please leave?”
He said it abruptly. It seemed the usage fee thing was partly true.
Well, Taehoo had planned to leave anyway.
To gain such a huge harvest at the very end naturally brought a smile to his face.
“Watch out for the eldest brother.”
Gyeonghwan called out advice to Taehoo’s retreating back.
Don’t worry.
He muttered silently.
From the next day’s training, Taehoo wrapped Aura around the Fallen Flower Sword again.
He observed Namjin’s movements, intercepted the trajectory of the flying marbles, and controlled Aura. All had to happen in a single breath.
That was why the training method Gyeonghwan had suggested the day before helped Taehoo greatly.
It was all about building the muscles to manage Aura for a whole day.
Time passed with that ongoing training, punctuated by Namjin’s daily ten-minute sessions.
Each time, Taehoo pushed himself to his limits through intense training.
Thanks to Gyeonghwan’s advice, his concentration and instantaneous judgment exploded in improvement.
Furthermore, his ‘Intuition’ skill began to settle in more visibly than before.
Yet, Taehoo’s Fallen Flower Sword still hadn’t touched the steel marbles.
Aside from the first success, none had connected.
‘I’m constantly raising the difficulty…’
Taehoo gritted his teeth.
Driven by the single-minded desire to hit the marble, he risked injury, and scars, which had been rare, began to increase.
When a marble lodged into his flesh due to miscalculating the angle, his head spun dizzyingly.
The wounds multiplied, yet Taehoo refused to give up.
Namjin came out at the same time every day without fail, and Namgoong and Jiuk were steadily preparing Taehoo’s Coming-of-Age Ceremony in another sense.
Three months passed in the blink of an eye. On the last day, the two stood facing each other at the end of their training.
Taehoo wore light clothing as usual, holding the Fallen Flower Sword, while Namjin was dressed in a long black leather coat.
Red patterns were embroidered on the sleeves and collar. A red brooch was pinned over his heart.
The ostentatious clothing gave Namjin a calm aura upon meeting Taehoo.
What kind of clothes were those?
Taehoo wondered but didn’t ask. He needed to stay focused to seize this final chance.
He didn’t waste the remaining month.
He devoted his entire day to the ten-minute training sessions.
Not a moment passed without thinking about the next move.
Not only managing Aura, but he also sustained Eye of the Swordsman throughout his daily life.
Before training, he rested fully for five hours to prepare his condition. Until then, he had kept his body constantly battle-ready.
All so that everything would become natural, like breathing.
Even in the most ordinary daily moments, he avoided any distraction of concentration.
Taehoo stood before Namjin once again, gripping his sword and activating Eye of the Swordsman.
Namjin, too, was well aware of Taehoo’s progress. He had witnessed the effort more closely than anyone.
That was why he wore his active-duty attire.
Ready for battle.
Taehoo was calm now, as if this were his true everyday state.
“Today, I will surely cut the steel marble. Cleanly.”
He had to cut it.
This was the last chance.
There was no turning back now.