Most of the cadets returned to their respective family homes, while a few who had no home or simply wished to stay behind spent their vacation at the dormitory.
I, too, took the opportunity to extend my sleep hours slightly, but I wasn't just resting.
I spent most of my time in my aunt's laboratory.
"I heard you got a vacation, but instead of resting, you just want to bother your dear aunt?! I have a mountain of research to do too, you know!"
"But you were just watching weird stuff on your phone… What research?"
"Weird stuff?! Ha Min finally got recognized by the chairman! And she even fully recovered from leukemia!"
"…Wait, just what exactly are you watching, Aunt…?"
I pressed my temples and let out a sigh.
Lately, my aunt seemed to have fallen into some strange obsession.
"Anyway, are you saying this whole situation was really Father's order?"
"That's what I told you. It was a direct official document."
Thanks to my aunt's help, I had reviewed the council's meeting records and confirmed that the reason for the sudden rescheduling of the midterm evaluation was due to my father's direct decision.
'If it was Father's order, this evaluation is going to be harder than I imagined.'
I had to prepare accordingly.
My magic techniques had hit a wall in terms of growth.
I needed to improve my personal skills as well.
And there was only one way to resolve both issues.
'I need to unlock Mujin's next memory.'
To fill in the missing pieces of my lacking magical techniques, I needed the next memory of Mujin, which contained knowledge of martial arts.
The problem was, it wasn't easy.
I thought I had gotten a solid grasp on Cheokma, yet I still couldn't unlock Mujin's next memory.
That meant I was still lacking something to move forward.
"I'll just keep trying. Please run the measurements again."
Swinging weapons aimlessly in the training ground had already reached its limit.
That's why I was relying on the precise instruments in my aunt's lab.
"At least tell your aunt what you're aiming for…!"
"There's something missing. It's not complete yet."
"But every measurement says you're not missing anything! What exactly do you think is lacking? Let me in on it too!"
"…"
I had no answer.
To be honest, I didn't know either.
Like my aunt said, I thought I had fully understood Cheokma, yet I still couldn't access the next memory.
That meant something was still incomplete, but I had no idea what that something was.
"I can't explain it well. Just please, let's do another round of measurements—"
"Arghhh! Enough! Stop it already!"
My aunt suddenly burst out, looking as if she was about to explode.
"You stubborn mule! You've been at this for two whole days, and today you've been at it for another two hours!"
Has it really been that long?
I checked the clock with a slightly guilty expression.
"Just sit down already! You're not going to magically improve just by grinding endlessly! If you want to keep doing this, just go back to the training ground!"
My aunt stomped toward me.
I was overwhelmed by her presence and ended up collapsing onto the worn-out sofa.
She glared at me with blazing eyes.
"Take a break. I don't know what's not working for you, but when you're stuck, you need to know how to rest too!"
"I don't have time for that, Aunt."
"Master!"
"…What?"
"Right now, I'm not your aunt. I'm your master! And this is an order from your master! Plant your butt down and stay put!"
"Ugh!"
As I tried to get up, she pressed down on my head.
She said "pressed," but her brute strength was enough to nearly snap my neck.
"I'll bring you some snacks and soda, so sit tight! A 13-year-old should be enjoying life like that!"
With that, she stormed off to the break room attached to the lab.
'Haa… Maybe I should just go to the training grou—'
At that moment, my aunt stuck her head out from the break room.
"If you so much as think about sneaking off to train… You're dead."
Gulp.
That was real killing intent.
I had no choice but to sink deeper into the couch.
'It's been years since I acquired Cheokma, yet I haven't made much progress since the naming ceremony.'
The frustration was suffocating.
Normally, when I noticed a deficiency, I could just train to overcome it.
But this time, I didn't even know what was missing, so all I could do was stew in my frustration.
I closed my eyes and replayed the man's movements in my mind.
The step he took.
The downward strike from the high guard.
The flow of magic, the movement of his muscles.
'I've already perfectly replicated it all.'
Yet, why did the man move that way?
'The original form of Cheokma… is excessive in many ways.'
When I first saw Cheokma, I lacked the ability to make such judgments, but now, I could see some of its shortcomings.
The way the man executed Cheokma was excessive in both movement and mana control, to the point that it couldn't seamlessly connect into follow-up attacks.
If the opponent could counter or deflect the attack, it would become a move with no follow-up, leaving the user vulnerable.
'If I pull my elbow just an inch inward and shift my pivot foot slightly backward, I can transition into the next move much more smoothly. I also need to reduce the mana output a little. The way that man used Cheokma leaves way too many openings.'
Perhaps because it was an ancient martial art, from a modern perspective, it had many inefficiencies.
It was a technique that didn't consider what came next—just an all-out, full-power strike.
'I thought that maybe improving it in my own way would allow me to access the next memory, but that wasn't it either.'
I let out a deep sigh.
Maybe my aunt was right. If I was stuck, I should take a break.
Lately, I had been obsessing over Cheokma alone, overthinking it with no clear answer. Even though I had been sleeping more, I felt even more exhausted.
I shook my head hard, trying to clear my thoughts.
As I leaned back into the sofa, the messy state of the laboratory caught my eye.
'Seriously, she should clean up once in a while.'
I couldn't help but frown.
My aunt's lab was pure chaos.
Piles of documents, scattered writing utensils, and ancient relics were strewn about. Cookie crumbs were everywhere, and black stains—who knows from what—covered most of the papers.
And yet, she somehow knew exactly where everything was, so I supposed she had her own system of organization…
'Huh? I haven't seen these before.'
I spotted some ancient relics I hadn't noticed before. They must have been the ones my aunt recently bought at an auction.
Fragments of armor from the early Iron Age, bamboo scrolls with strange inscriptions, even a crude picture book.
'I can't read memories from objects that are too deteriorated.'
I picked up a rusty piece of metal and ran my fingers over it.
A bit of rust and wear was fine, but weapons that had completely crumbled only produced unbearable noise when I tried to read their memories with Dark Vision.
'Oh?'
As I skimmed through the piles of documents, a certain book caught my eye.
It was a hardcover thesis.
[The Differences in the Direction of Ancient and Modern Martial Arts]
I flipped to the first page.
Lately, I had been reading all sorts of academic papers with my aunt, though I still wasn't fully fluent in difficult terminology.
Still, this would help kill time until my aunt returned.
—Pause.
As I flipped through the pages, my eyes locked onto a particular section.
**[The decisive difference between ancient and modern martial arts lies in their purpose. In the modern era, martial arts have developed various objectives.
…Omitted…
It is speculated that, at the time, human combat techniques were more focused on fighting monsters than on personal combat.]**
There were wars between nations even in ancient times.
However, humanity's greatest enemy back then was always monsters.
All martial arts of that era were developed not to fight humans, but to fight monsters.
'Cheokma… Could Cheokma be the same?'
Direction.
That word echoed in my mind.
I quickly flipped through the pages.
[As evidence, most martial arts recorded in ancient texts—unless they were ceremonial or performance-based—tended to be a collection of separate techniques rather than a structured sequence of forms or patterns.]
As I rapidly turned the pages, I organized my thoughts.
'What was Cheokma created for?'
I felt like a mental barrier had just crumbled.
Before I knew it, I shot up from my seat.
Mujin Ilshik, Cheokma.
Each strike lacked feints or considerations for the opponent's reactions.
The mana control did not preserve energy for follow-up techniques.
Cheokma wasn't just a part of a swordsmanship style—it was a complete, standalone technique.
"Eh? Kiddo, what's up?"
"Aunt! I figured it out!"
"Huh?"
"Sorry! I'll explain later! I need to get to the training ground right now."
I darted past my aunt, who was approaching with a bag of snacks.
"Ah—!"
Behind me, I heard a loud CRASH!
'Sorry, Aunt!'
Judging by the sound, it was probably a disaster, but I didn't have time to worry about it.
"AAAAARGH! YOU LITTLE BRAT!!!"
Her shriek rang through the lab, but I ignored it.
I sprinted toward the training ground, my heart pounding.
***
I calmed my thoughts.
What are the purposes of modern martial arts?
For fighting monsters.
For self-cultivation.
For sparring.
The direction a martial art takes depends on its purpose.
Take, for example—
The Shadow Blade Corps, which prioritizes assassination and covert operations, is specialized for human combat. Their techniques are evaluated as being closer to those of assassins.
Meanwhile, the Blood Tiger Division, which oversaw the naming ceremony training, focuses on large-scale monster battles. Their martial arts are centered on overwhelming force in each strike.
'Then what about Cheokma?'
I thought about the purpose behind Cheokma's creation.
Glancing around, I put down my training sword and drew Mujin instead.
Vwoooom—!
The black sword materialized exactly as I envisioned.
'Cheokma… is a technique designed to slay monsters.'
I pictured my opponent.
A foe larger than myself.
A beast unlike any human.
A monster.
'There was a reason why efficiency, continuous attacks, conserving strength, or considering the opponent's evasions and defenses weren't part of the technique. It was designed to fight monsters in the first place.'
It was a technique created to cut through tougher hides, thicker muscles, and denser bones than those of humans.
That's why techniques that were just flashy without destructive power or deceptive maneuvers were useless.
'Here I go.'
The magic, amplified by the augmentation technique, writhed as it wrapped around Mujin.
Raising Mujin high, I swung it down.
The process, the movements, the flow of magic.
I followed the same path of Cheokma that I had swung hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times before.
But this time, the Cheokma unfolding in my hands carried a distinct purpose.
Crack!
The old bluestone paving the training ground shattered beneath the weight of my leading foot, and the sand scattered across the ground burst into the air.
'It's done.'
I instinctively realized it.
Cheokma was complete.
The missing piece of the puzzle had been placed.
Sssss—
The black energy I had stirred wrapped around Mujin.
And when I opened my eyes again, I was met with another fragment of memory that Mujin revealed.
***
A man was training with weapons.
No, not just a sword—he switched between countless weapons, from spears to daggers.
When he thrust, the weapon shifted into a spear.
When he slashed, it became a sword.
At times, it even turned into a bow.
Without being bound by a single form, all his movements were unrestricted.
'It's just like when I first obtained Mujin. But this hasn't happened in a long time!'
Normally, when I read the memories of a weapon with black energy, I would see the world through the eyes of its original owner.
But whenever I read Mujin's memories, rather than possessing someone, it felt as though I had been summoned as a third party into this space and time.
'Why does this only happen with Mujin? And only the first time I read its memories?'
At that moment, an unfamiliar voice rang out.
— Well, well, you've changed your style again?
I instinctively hid behind a large pillar.
— You should stop peeping at others while they train.
The man wielding Mujin responded without halting his training.
The owner of the voice behind him let out a low chuckle.
— Ever since you got that thing, your combat style has changed a lot. Have you given these techniques names yet?
— I haven't named them. I'm not even sure if they can be called techniques.
The man continued swinging Mujin.
The one speaking to him had his back turned, so I couldn't see his face.
Whoosh!
Suddenly, the man training with Mujin spun it at his fingertips.
In an instant, Mujin, which had been in the form of a longsword, transformed into a dagger.
'…That speed is insane. He's at least twice as fast as me.'
I had thought I was getting used to Mujin's transformations, but compared to this man, I was still far behind.
'And what in the world is he doing?'
He wasn't just changing its shape.
Every time Mujin transformed, the quality of the aura enveloping it also shifted.
Rather than the man's aura changing, it felt as if Mujin itself was modifying the aura.
— Then let me name it for you. How about "Manbyun" (Ten Thousand Transformations)? The name of your technique, I mean. It's still in its basic form, so you can add more names as you develop it further.
— Not bad.
— Right? Haha!
Right after the boisterous man's laughter faded…
The man wielding Mujin abruptly stopped moving and furrowed his brow.
— You… did you bring someone here?
— Me? No way.
At that moment—
Boom!
The man who had been speaking suddenly closed the distance and swung his sword.
— I just thought we should have a spar, that's all!
As the shockwaves settled, I finally got a look at the man whose back had been turned.
And I couldn't help but feel as if my breath had stopped.
Dark black hair. Beneath it, light brown eyes.
That was unmistakably the defining trait of the Sungmu family.
***
The week-long break flew by in an instant.
And finally, proper training for the upcoming evaluation had begun.
"You should already be familiar with this information, so we'll go through it quickly," Instructor Lee Jeong-ho said as he grabbed a piece of chalk in front of the assembled cadets.
"We don't know exactly when it first appeared, but a long time ago, a massive spatial rift formed near the Pacific Ocean. This place, commonly referred to as the Blue Hole, is a Demon Realm (魔境). Even now, humanity has yet to fully explore it."
Lee Jeong-ho pointed at the Pacific on the world map as he continued.
Blue Hole.
A place that was still officially considered uncharted.
A Demon Realm where no observational equipment had been able to conduct a proper survey.
"Back in ancient times, the concepts of supernatural abilities and magic were underdeveloped. As a result, humanity lost more than half its territory to monsters."
The world map on the screen turned blood-red.
"Over time, humanity fought back against the monsters and reclaimed lost land. But there are still uncharted territories where ancient beasts remain entrenched. We've successfully eradicated the monsters that invaded our original lands, but many areas are still unexplored. Cadet Choi In-ha, what do we call these areas?"
At Lee Jeong-ho's question, Choi In-ha quickly responded.
"They are classified as Danger Zones."
"Correct. Even the Danger Zones undergoing active reclamation remain perilous. Furthermore, the Safe Zones where humanity currently resides aren't completely secure either. Dungeons and Gates are the reason for that."
Gates were essentially miniature versions of the Blue Hole. They were sudden anomalies caused by disruptions in magical and spiritual balance. Though they could be predicted, they also had a tendency to appear unexpectedly.
On the other hand, dungeons were locations where such imbalances had persisted for centuries. While they could be stabilized with significant investment and effort, it wasn't an easy process.
"For this evaluation, we will be conducting a dungeon exploration. Training will be geared toward that objective. Any questions?"
Dungeons were ranked from Grade 1 to Grade 9.
Each grade had drastically different characteristics and levels of danger.
I scanned the cadets and made a quick guess.
'Judging by our overall level… the assigned dungeon will probably be Grade 7 or 8.'
Even a Grade 7 dungeon wouldn't be impossible to clear, but it would be quite dangerous.
At that moment, Kim Han raised his hand and called out.
"I have a question."
"Go ahead, Cadet Kim Han."
"Has our assigned dungeon been decided yet?"
"…Yes. It was determined today."
Lee Jeong-ho's face looked tense.
That expression sent a bad feeling creeping through my mind.
"The dungeon we will be exploring is located in the northern Danger Zone… The Forest of the Man-Faced Spider (人面蛛)."
In that instant, the pen I was holding slipped from my fingers.
The Forest of the Man-Faced Spider.
Its ranking—Special Grade 6.
As Lee Jeong-ho spoke with difficulty, murmurs and unease spread among the cadets.
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