Chapter 8: Qualities of a Martial God (1)
The barracks of Squad 16 of the Sword Infantry.
Around a hundred recruits were gathered in small groups, introducing themselves and exchanging names. The tactical training that had dragged on late into the night was finally over.
Though the barracks were noisy, no one approached So-mu’s corner. It was because of the terrifying presence of Il-gwang sitting next to him. With a massive build of over two hundred pounds and a fierce face, he intimidated the other recruits by his mere existence.
Lying on his side with his arms supporting his head, Il-gwang stared at Cheong-hae, who was sitting cross-legged.
“You said you were from the Mount Hua Sect, right?”
“Yes. But I no longer have any connection to that place.”
Though Il-gwang spoke informally, it did not feel awkward due to the large age difference between them.
“But why did you come here? You already know martial arts. Wouldn’t it be better to go somewhere else and get a stable job, like running a gang or working as a bodyguard?”
“My original goal was to become the world’s strongest expert in the martial world. But now that the path is closed, I plan to become a Great General under Heaven.”
The moment Cheong-hae finished speaking, Il-gwang clutched his stomach and began rolling on the floor in laughter.
“Haha! Puhahaha! So-mu, did you hear that?”
Even So-mu could not suppress a smile. Looking at Cheong-hae’s dead-serious face, it was indeed amusing.
“From a mere recruit to a Great General. I cannot even calculate how many ranks you have to climb to achieve that.”
Cheong-hae pouted at their reaction. “Sigh… you two are too much. Just watch. I will achieve great deeds in the coming battle.”
“Haha. Just get some sleep. The real training begins tomorrow, so you need to manage your energy.”
Il-gwang, who had been laughing, soon fell fast asleep. Cheong-hae remained cross-legged, concentrating on his meditation.
As the recruits fell asleep one by one, the barracks grew quiet. So-mu lay with his hands clasped behind his head, lost in thought.
He was reviewing the information he had received from Heo-gyu of the Beggars’ Sect. There were a few details that caught his attention.
I suspected there was a force behind the Hui Dynasty, but to think it is the Divine Demon Cult… I have no information about them.
Even with his vast experience in the martial world, he had never heard of such a group. How long had they been storing their strength in the shadows? They were far more covert and cunning than he had imagined.
There is nothing I can do right now. I will proceed with my plan. I will start as a soldier and observe the world. In time, I will find the answers and make my decision.
While So-mu was deep in thought, most of the recruits had fallen asleep. Cheong-hae was using qi circulation to replace sleep.
If I want my life here to be comfortable, I need to help Il-gwang and Cheong-hae improve their skills.
Glancing at the two of them, So-mu felt a headache coming on.
Il-gwang has an incredible skeletal structure. Even in the martial world, he would be considered a born martial artist. But trying to learn martial arts at his age means his body is filled with impurities, making it difficult to accumulate internal energy. On the other hand, Cheong-hae’s basics are solid, but his physical structure is mediocre, so he must compensate with sheer effort. The road ahead is long.
It was a rare sleepless night. So-mu closed his eyes and meditated. Four hours passed in an instant. Suddenly, his ears perked up. He heard a loud commotion outside the barracks. The sun had not yet risen.
I thought they would at least let us rest on the first night, but I suppose that was too much to hope for.
A drum rolled outside the barracks, accompanied by a shout that shattered everyone’s sleep. It was the voice of Wi Jin-cheol, the commander of the sword infantry.
“Recruits, training has begun! Gather immediately! The last five to step out will regret it!”
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Dozens of soldiers marched through the camp, beating drums to rouse the sleeping recruits. In Squad 16’s barracks, Il-gwang sat up with a groan.
“Those bastards! I just fell asleep!”
In truth, Il-gwang had fallen asleep the moment his head hit the pillow and had been snoring ever since. Cheong-hae giggled.
“Haha! Don’t lie, brother. You were the first to fall asleep in our barracks.”
“I was merely resting my eyes!”
While they bickered, dozens of recruits were already rushing out of the barracks. So-mu moved toward the exit, glancing at the two of them.
“They said the last five would be penalized.”
Hardly anyone was left in the barracks. Il-gwang and Cheong-hae bolted out, lining up right behind So-mu. The three of them secured safe positions and watched the latecomers being punished with relief.
“We barely made it,” Il-gwang said, nodding to Cheong-hae.
“Indeed. That was close.”
Shortly after, all the swordsmen marched to the training ground under Wi Jin-cheol’s lead.
It was still dark, and a cool wind brushed against the barracks. The recruits’ faces were flushed with a mixture of fatigue and resolve.
Once the alignment at the training ground was complete, a group of soldiers approached from thirty zhang away, carrying wooden boxes. Each recruit was issued a standard-issue iron sword.
“From this moment on, treat this sword as your own life! If anyone loses his weapon, I will execute him myself!”
Looking at his fierce expression, no one doubted his words.
“Now, I will demonstrate the Heavenly Martial Sword Technique of our corps. Watch closely!”
Wi Jin-cheol raised his sword to eye level and pulled it back to his shoulder. With a flick of his wrist, the blade caught the moonlight, letting out a sharp ring.
Keeng!
His sword dance began.
He executed the movements slowly so the recruits could follow. Demonstrating forms with such precision was a feat only a top expert could manage.
The forms alternated between swift strikes and slow transitions, capturing the recruits’ attention. Cheong-hae gasped in admiration.
“Incredible. The forms are not flashy, but the power behind them is immense.”
While everyone watched in awe, So-mu’s analysis was different. He had fully grasped the Heavenly Martial Sword Technique after a single look.
It consists of eighteen forms. Every form sacrifices softness and variation in favor of speed and raw power. Indeed, it is a technique designed solely for the battlefield. Because it is specialized for slaughtering groups of enemies, its effectiveness in a one-on-one duel is halved. If it had a bit of variation and fluidity, it could be a far superior style. A shame.
Once a martial artist reached the peak of swordsmanship, the specific style or weapon they held mattered little. So-mu was already at that level.
Still, since the forms are simple, it is a decent introductory style for these recruits.
To the Sword Saint, the military martial arts were nothing more than a simple distraction. But to the recruits, the demonstration was a display of awe-inspiring power.
“Follow my movements! First Form: Furious Blossom Strike Stance!” Wi Jin-cheol bellowed.
Kicking off the ground, Wi Jin-cheol swung his sword at shoulder height, rotating it once. The twenty-five hundred swordsmen followed suit.
“Hya!”
“Aaargh!”
Their shouts were loud, but the execution was a disaster. Recruits tripped over their own feet, and some even accidentally cut the comrades standing next to them. Even Cheong-hae struggled to copy the form in one go, barely completing the stance with a wobble.
Wi Jin-cheol’s brow furrowed in anger. But his eyes suddenly locked onto a single recruit who had executed the form flawlessly.
His gaze was fixed squarely on So-mu.
“You there! Step forward!”
Realizing he was being called, So-mu stepped out of the ranks.
He had merely followed the instructions. His only mistake was failing to realize that no one else would succeed on the first try.
So-mu walked toward Wi Jin-cheol.
When he was within a zhang of the commander, Wi Jin-cheol’s blade flashed without warning.
A sudden attack.
The tip of the sword wriggled like a snake, thrusting directly toward So-mu’s throat. Despite the sudden threat, So-mu’s face remained completely expressionless.
There is no killing intent in this strike.
The blade stopped a hair’s breadth from So-mu’s throat, separated only by a paper’s width.
Though So-mu was the one targeted, it was Wi Jin-cheol who was stunned.
How strange. A trained martial artist would have reflexively blocked or dodged. Did I misjudge him? But how could he execute the first form of the Heavenly Martial Sword Technique so perfectly on his first try?
He scanned So-mu from head to toe, searching for any trace of cultivated internal energy, but found nothing.
“What I just displayed is the Second Form: Trace-less Flash. Can you copy it?”
So-mu was annoyed by his test, but he had to comply.
I have no choice. Copying the physical movement should be fine.
Fixing the blade beneath his eye, So-mu stepped forward with his left foot. The sword shot out, twisting at a sharp angle to pierce the air.
Swish!
It was a flawless execution of the Trace-less Flash. The only difference was the lack of internal energy, making the strike physically weak.
Wi Jin-cheol’s eyes widened. He stared at So-mu in silence before finally nodding.
“Occasionally, geniuses with an innate talent for martial arts are born. You are one such case. However, because you discovered your talent late, you will soon hit a wall. Do not grow arrogant!”
Despite his stern words, Wi Jin-cheol clapped So-mu on the shoulder, unable to hide his delight.
What commander wouldn’t be thrilled to discover such a talent under his command? It felt as if he had obtained a secret weapon.
Sending So-mu back to the ranks, he raised his sword once more.
“To those with talent, I will provide the rewards they deserve! If you have the skill, you can become a squad leader or even a centurion after training! Now, follow me! First Form: Furious Blossom Strike Stance!”