Before I knew it, dusk had settled over Cheonwi Mountain.
As soon as the mountain keeper told Lee Cheol the location of the training ground, he headed straight there.
Meanwhile, the members of Chilseongdae, who had been through quite an ordeal, were set to stay the night in a nearby village off the mountain.
The house steward, Choi, decided to spend the night on Cheonwi Mountain at the suggestion of the mountain keeper, who invited him to share a drink after a long time.
The mountain keeper smiled as he gazed at the luxurious bottle of liquor in his hand.
"Ssshh... Western liquor is really something. This woody scent is strange yet oddly pleasant on the tongue."
"I'm glad it suits your taste."
Choi chuckled as he watched the mountain keeper gulp down liquor worth the price of a car without a second thought.
"But anyway, what brings you here? You didn't come all this way just to deliver booze, did you? You're here to escort that bastard, the illegitimate son, aren't you?"
The mountain keeper casually tossed aside the empty bottle.
For most people, the price of that bottle alone would be enough to make them gasp, but he didn't seem to care in the slightest.
"Well, the thing is…"
"I don't like people beating around the bush. Just get to the point."
"The head of the family asked me to check if you had read the heavenly signs."
"The heavenly signs, huh…?"
The mountain keeper swirled his cup thoughtfully.
"I have read them… but not much. And there's even less that I can talk about."
Words hold power, and when they touch upon forbidden knowledge, that power becomes even more dangerous.
The mountain keeper gazed off into the distance, as if swallowing the words lingering in his throat.
Choi, ever calm and composed, spoke in his usual measured tone.
"Surely, a goblin who's been treated to fine liquor wouldn't refuse a simple request, would he?"
"Hey, you bastard! This is a token of apology, not a bribe!"
"I brought over ten bottles, Mountain Keeper."
"Ugh! Damn it! I knew this was coming!"
The mountain keeper opened another bottle, took a long swig, and slammed it onto the table.
Then, with a reluctant expression, he finally spoke.
"…It's still a long way off. The Heavenly Gate has long since opened, and human strength has reached its peak, so chaos will inevitably come. Just tell him not to make a fuss and follow the natural order."
"That's more than enough. I'll relay your words exactly as you said them. Thank you."
"Damn it! If only I had won that wrestling match back then, I wouldn't be stuck in this damned mountain! Ugh, I should've tripped that bastard with an inside leg sweep!"
Choi smiled faintly at the old tale.
It was part of a legend passed down through the Seongmu family—
A story of a goblin who, long ago, lost a wrestling match against the family's ancestor and, as part of the agreement, had to guard their sacred mountain.
"By the way, you seem to have taken quite a liking to that boy. Aren't you worried?"
The mountain keeper smirked, referring to Lee Cheol, who had been in the room just moments before.
"I am merely a servant of the Seongmu family, devoted to its bloodline. Liking or disliking someone is not for me to consider."
"Yeah, yeah, enough of that stiff talk. You heard the kid—he wants in."
The mountain keeper wore an indifferent expression.
"A brat like him, barely out of the cradle, what could he possibly achieve in a year? Not that it matters. If he's not good enough, he won't even be allowed in. But if he does get in, then that's it—there's no turning back."
He opened another bottle and poured Choi a drink.
Choi raised his glass and simply smiled.
"Just watch. I think you'll find it quite entertaining, Mountain Keeper."
***
The next day, Steward Choi and Chilseongdae left Cheonwi Mountain.
"I wish you success in achieving your goal."
With that simple farewell, Choi departed.
I headed straight for the training ground.
After about an hour of walking from the mountain keeper's dwelling on the cliffside, I came across a small clearing.
No, calling it a clearing wasn't quite right.
At the center of a roughly 20-pyeong (about 66-square-meter) flat area stood a single tree.
A massive zelkova tree, likely hundreds, if not a thousand years old, stretched its gnarled branches toward the sky.
I stepped into a hollow knot at the base of its trunk.
Whoooom—!
Darkness engulfed me.
Like ink dropped into water, the world around me distorted and blurred.
It was a sensation similar to when I had entered the mountain keeper's dwelling.
And then—
Before me stretched a vast space, lined with solid stone slabs and filled with crisp, refreshing air.
This was my training ground.
A place built through the goblin's magic within a tree that had lived for centuries.
Inside or out, no matter how much force was unleashed, this space wouldn't bear a single scratch.
'This is where it begins.'
I took a deep breath as I surveyed my surroundings.
I had one year.
A short time, yet long enough.
'I need to reassess everything I have.'
I was still young.
Yet, I had already gained too much power.
I haven't strayed onto the wrong path yet, nor have I lost my way, but just as Butler Choi said, now is the time to look to the sides and behind rather than ahead.
"Magic techniques, martial arts, mystic eyes... If I think about it objectively, I'm still lacking in many ways."
Before moving forward, I reflect on what I already have.
Just like what happened in the Hall of Struggle during the Naming Ceremony.
What I need to do now is not to gain new abilities, but to make the ones I already have completely my own.
"And lastly, when my training is complete, I will challenge that place."
The place where I will unlock the fourth seal of Black Night.
A training hall said to have been created by the ancestor of the Soongmu Clan to test his descendants. That is my goal for the year.
"Then let's begin."
I slowly lifted Mujin and took a step forward.
I possess quite a few abilities.
The first is magic techniques.
Unlike those who have only learned conventional magic, I can manipulate both mana circuits and mana cores simultaneously.
Thanks to that, I have gained greater control and versatility.
Now that I've reached three stars, my power has even evolved into aura techniques and aura skills.
However, there are still weaknesses.
While drawing out aura has become second nature, like moving my limbs, my ability to change its properties and forms—my aura skills—are still incomplete.
Moreover, I need preparation time before using techniques, and the mana consumption is enormous.
I must address these issues.
The second is the countless techniques I have read through the memories of weapons, as well as those I have learned from Mujin itself.
My ability to utilize them is already decent.
I have absorbed the memories of those who mastered these techniques and made them my own.
"But if I ask myself whether I have truly perfected them... the answer is still unclear."
The difference between merely learning a technique and having it ingrained into my body is as vast as the gap between heaven and earth.
My unorthodox combat style, which freely switches between countless weapons, is excellent.
And if I could unify all of it into a single framework, there would be no doubt about its greatness.
However, from another perspective, it could also be seen as a half-baked approach, where none of the techniques have been fully mastered.
That is why I must become a true master of all weapon techniques.
To be able to wield any weapon in any situation with complete proficiency.
The third is the mystic eye.
It has improved significantly compared to when it used to activate and deactivate at random, but it is still lacking in many ways.
The fourth is my sixth sense.
Since awakening it, I haven't deliberately trained it.
But just like a muscle, the more I refine it, the sharper and more precise it becomes.
"A sixth sense at its peak is no different from a supernatural ability."
This, too, is my power.
It cannot be neglected.
And finally—
"Black Aura."
A power that allows me to read and absorb the memories of weapons to gain mana, and sometimes even negate the fear aura of monsters.
"For now, my goal is simply to become proficient in it."
Swoosh!
I transformed Mujin into a sword and began swinging it.
A strike using only my body, without a single ounce of mana.
"I must find a single flow that connects all techniques."
—That is what we call 'all techniques returning to one.' In the end, since all techniques are performed through the human body, their final destination is the same.
I recalled the teachings of Lee Jung-ho, the instructor of Cadet Class 5.
All techniques return to one.
In the end, all flows lead to the same conclusion.
"My goal is a thousand strikes. If a thousand isn't enough to engrain it into my body, then I'll keep going until it is."
Swinging a single technique a thousand times.
Since swordsmanship is the culmination of countless swings, the actual number of times my sword will move will be in the tens of thousands.
I started with Seven Star Sword.
Basic movements. Basic stance shifts. Even the transmission of force.
"Hoo, ha!"
I focused on each and every swing.
Why does this sword path take this shape?
Why does this movement exist?
Rather than the Seven Star Sword itself, I sought to understand the essence of swordsmanship.
Perhaps because I was so focused on the fundamentals—
By the time I had performed about fifty swings, my sword path started to waver.
My joints creaked, and my muscles screamed in protest.
My breath, rising to my throat, made me feel nauseous.
"If I were outside, I would have stopped here."
Sixty swings, then seventy.
The once-skilled sword strikes had slowed down like a crawling grub.
Clang!
At last, the strength in my grip gave out, and Mujin slipped from my hands.
"Haa, huu… seventy times…"
My arms trembled violently.
I picked up Mujin from where it had fallen.
Normally, I would have stopped here.
My body was still in its growth phase.
If I pushed beyond my limits and my body broke down, there might be no way to recover.
But this was Cheonwisan.
The goblins had prepared a healing spring.
No matter how extreme the training, I could recover perfectly.
"Again!"
Mujin sliced through the air once more.
***
Meanwhile.
The mountain keeper sat in his room, staring at a large mirror.
Reflected on the mirror's surface was Lee Cheol, drenched in sweat as he trained.
"…That kid is relentless."
The mountain keeper frowned slightly as he observed Lee Cheol.
Countless descendants of the Soongmu family had passed through this mountain.
They were monsters by blood, far beyond ordinary humans.
But he had never seen anyone quite like this.
Repeating the same sword technique all day long?
The pain was one thing, but the sheer monotony should have been unbearable.
Yet, Lee Cheol's expression showed no sign of boredom.
An unyielding drive for improvement, an insatiable thirst for strength, and a desperate fighting spirit—
Those were the emotions painted across his face.
The mountain keeper felt a slight chill.
Such an explosion of will was precisely why humans, despite their frail bodies, had become the rulers of this vast world.
'Hah! Look at him. He goes to the healing spring after every meal. So that's it. He trains until he's injured, then recovers in the spring?'
A moment later, the mirror showed Lee Cheol submerged in the healing spring, sprawled out like a dead man.
Morning, noon, and night.
At the end of each of his three daily training sessions, Lee Cheol restored his body in the healing waters.
Easier said than done—no ordinary person could pull this off.
Unless they had the willpower to throw themselves into molten iron without hesitation.
'Even knowing his body will be fine, how many people could willingly do something that's basically self-harm? Especially humans, who value self-preservation above all else.'
Thanks to the healing spring, no amount of extreme training resulted in permanent injury.
And with the abundant energy of Cheonwisan, he wouldn't even suffer from magic depletion.
The mountain keeper flicked the mirror away with a smirk.
"With a fate like his, no wonder his Four Pillars reading was a mess."
The Four Pillars (Sa-ju) referred to the energies present at one's birth—year, month, day, and hour.
Each pillar contained two characters, forming an individual's Eight Characters (Pal-ja).
Since Four Pillars readings were based on predetermined celestial influences, they were absolute and unchangeable.
It was merely that ordinary mortals, lacking true understanding, often failed to interpret them correctly.
'That kid has no destiny.'
Overturning the fate set by the heavens.
Breaking free from the innate energies he was born with.
Twisting the Four Pillars itself.
That was what it meant.
How many like him had the mountain keeper encountered in his lifetime?
He sank into thought.
Humans had always defied their predetermined destinies. Even in the goblin's vast, ancient memory, only a handful had done so.
And among them, one had gone on to build the greatest family in the world.
'Your bloodline must be a thorn in the heavens' side. Hah!'
With a chuckle, the mountain keeper heaved himself up.
'Either way, I have to make preparations. But as I promised you, the decision is mine to make. If I judge that he's not up to the task, I won't allow it.'
With a flick of his wrist, mist swirled in his palm.
The scenery changed to reveal a pitch-black cavern.
A single boy stood there.
The mountain keeper gazed at the boy with a strange expression.
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