Never before had I meditated for this long.

It felt like dreaming within a dream, and even when I woke from it, I still hadn’t escaped the dream. And yet, my mind was calm.

After walking a single-log bridge for what felt like forever, I arrived at an unknown realm and discovered a giant hand.

If it had been the Buddha’s palm, I might’ve been surprised—but it was just my own hand. I knew because I saw a scar left by a nail.

Even though the hand had suddenly emerged...

I recognized this place as the realm of martial enlightenment—specifically the preliminary stage of Geumgu Soyo Gong—and wasn’t disturbed by it. With my arms crossed, I stared at my palm, then infused wood qi into my pinky finger.

Amazingly, the massive pinky was soon covered in a grainy, wood-like hue.

“......”

Why was I not surprised by this?

It wasn’t all that shocking—after all, this was happening inside of me.

Naturally, I wrapped flame qi around my ring finger.

Then, with a surge, a pillar of fire burst upward from it.

“Excellent.”

I glanced around.

The single-log bridge was gone, and in its place was a map of my meridians spread out like a geographical diagram. On this map, the paths wood qi had traveled were marked, and now several glowing trails created by flame qi lit up the terrain.

Unless you were a complete fool, it was easy to realize you were standing at a critical crossroads.

Turning back to the large hand, I wrapped ash qi—the force of Geumgu Soyo Gong—around my middle finger. This time, the qi clearly took on a smoky gray hue.

“...With wood, flame, and ash, the three elemental lines are complete.”

As I looked around, I saw the ash qi rise from the earth as it traveled from the energy core to the middle finger. It pierced through wood, pressed down fire—it was the essence of ash qi: the power that surges upward.

The next level, preliminary realm, indicated I had already surpassed previous barriers. That transcendence must have included the ability to freely command the three elemental qi, hence why these phenomena were occurring.

I then turned my eyes to the index and thumb.

“...You two hold my fate.”

And if my fate was in their hands, that meant so was Haomun’s.

Without letting the sudden pressure crush me, I exhaled to lighten my heart.

This was the realm of imagination—if I wasn't careful, a massive sword might fall from the sky and skewer my skull.

That, too, was a kind of deviation.

This rare opportunity had to be used to organize my martial arts. Even if my internal energy was inferior to a true master’s, once I completed this, I was certain I could hold my own in battle.

I made my decision after much thought.

I didn’t need to infuse preliminary qi into the index finger. The preliminary realm itself governs wood, flame, and ash.

After some time pondering, I turned and looked beyond the meridian map. Once resolved, I summoned the Moonlight Cold Heart Technique from the frozen ground.

A stream of pure white energy surged skyward from the black void and shot across specific meridians, freezing them as it charged toward me. Then, with a sharp breeze brushing past, my index finger turned completely white.

‘...Is this right?’

For a martial artist, the index finger is the most crucial. Or maybe that was just me.

After imprinting the Moonlight Cold Heart Technique into my index, I stared at my thumb. The thumb shifts the blade’s direction and bears its weight. Short, thick, and strong. I summoned power from my energy core into it.

Without even looking, a thunderous sound ripped through the sky in the distance.

Then the white lightning of Hundred Battles Tenfold Technique arrived faster than ever and wrapped around my thumb.

As I gazed at the massive hand wrapped in five distinct auras, I felt both proud and amazed.

I stared at this Five Elements Hand that had emerged in the realm of martial enlightenment.

A sudden worry crossed my mind: Will this realization vanish once I wake?

But I’d seen it with my own eyes. That meant I could always return to it.

If I unleashed the five fingers at once, that would be the Five Elements Palm Technique.

It could be applied as a methodical palm art or {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} used with slightly less force than Heaven-Piercing Sun-Moon Radiance.

Maybe...

Hadn’t I been using this all along, smashing together all the techniques and principles into a single emotional mess I called Zaha Divine Art?

Back when the gaps between meridians burst and blood flowed out—what emerged externally was that merciless, violet aura.

The problem was that even the blood vessels in my eyes would rupture, tinting the world crimson.

So, if I recklessly unleashed Zaha Divine Art, I’d harm myself. That’s why I only used it when pushed over the edge—when my eyes flipped and rage exploded. That’s also why it didn’t always appear.

But if I could freely command the Five Elements Hand...

Then I could systematize the vacant parts of my martial understanding and construct a direct path to Zaha Divine Art.

A rational path to Zaha Divine Art.

In that sense, the realization I gained beneath Manjang Gorge was part of researching and organizing the incomplete techniques of Zaha Divine Art.

That’s enough for today... let’s not overdo it.

When I quietly opened my eyes, the dim light of dawn greeted me. I had returned to the world.

Though I’d spent the entire night cautiously crossing the single-log bridge, it wasn’t my legs or feet that ached—it was my neck and shoulders, tight with strain.

“......”

The Drunk and the Lecher were lying on their sides, fast asleep.

Sword Demon walked over from somewhere and added firewood to the pit. Nearby, the White-Robed Scholar was still sitting cross-legged, his eyes closed.

I didn’t speak—he hadn’t returned from the bridge yet.

The temperature had dropped considerably, but as Sword Demon revived the fire, warmth returned to the air.

I took up the mindset of not being greedy.

It was that important a moment.

Strangely, Sword Demon seemed... peaceful. Was it just a feeling?

I focused on my breathing and looked at him and the White-Robed Scholar.

Our eyes met, and I gave him a small nod. Sword Demon, reading my expression, smiled and nodded back.

He could tell I had achieved something.

“...Hoo.”

Suddenly, the White-Robed Scholar let out a long breath beside me. Elder Brother and I turned to look at him.

The man moved his hands as if gathering scattered internal energy into his energy core, then exhaled again.

A white mist rose from the crown of his head, and his entire body became surrounded by a faint heat haze.

He had crossed the bridge and stepped into the next realm.

Was the White-Robed Scholar lucky?

Or were we the lucky ones?

I’d never experienced a shared, communal, cooperative, campfire-style martial epiphany like this. It was all very bewildering.

Before we knew it, the White-Robed Scholar opened his eyes and looked at Sword Demon and me, then up at the early morning sky.

“...Morning already?”

Finally, Sword Demon spoke.

“Third and White Robes. Congratulations. Seems the two of you made significant breakthroughs last night.”

I also turned to the White-Robed Scholar.

“Congratulations, Warlord.”

He tilted his head.

“Did something happen?”

Sword Demon glanced at me.

“Third, your entire body was wrapped in five colors before dawn. I recognized wood, fire, water, thunder—but the middle one was unclear. A grayish hue.”

I nodded.

“That was likely ash qi.”

The White-Robed Scholar asked,

“Five colors? Then you experienced the Five Qi Returning to Origin phenomenon.”

I’d heard of that, but with my limited knowledge of traditional martial arts, I didn’t know exactly what it meant.

“What’s that?”

The White-Robed Scholar replied,

“It refers to a specific stage. According to old martial theory, Five Qi Returning to Origin is often mentioned alongside Three Flowers Converging at the Crown. Some schools treat them as equal, others argue which is superior—but in my view, it doesn’t matter. Martial arts and internal energy each have their own blooming season. That’s all.”

“I see.”

That resonated with me. I’ve never been fond of trying to logically prove what’s right or wrong.

And besides, no martial theory from the past could possibly define my condition. What lunatic ever swallowed the Heavenly Pearl, cultivated both yin and yang arts, and wielded thunder qi too?

I was the only one. I didn’t need to force old concepts to fit me.

The White-Robed Scholar continued.

“Moreover, most Five Element systems discuss metal, wood, water, fire, and earth. But you, Pavilion Lord, connected wood, fire, water, and thunder. I’ve never heard of such a case.”

He gazed at me.

“If your martial knowledge could be organized and passed down, Pavilion Lord, you’ve already become the Grandmaster of a new sect. There may be similar arts, but none quite like yours.”

As we spoke, the Lecher and the Drunk stirred awake.

Even being declared a Grandmaster of a sect didn’t stir anything in me emotionally.

It was just... whatever.

Honestly, becoming a Grandmaster isn’t the point.

Staying alive matters more.

After all, the people trying to kill me won’t spare me just because I’m a Grandmaster.

The Lecher, still groggy, asked Sword Demon,

“Third became a Grandmaster overnight?”

Sword Demon nodded.

“White Robes says so. Must be true.”

The Lecher looked me up and down.

“Country bumpkin. Not bad. Congrats.”

The Drunk also grinned sleepily. 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

“Congrats, Third.”

Truth be told, I’m the kind of guy who doesn’t know how to react to compliments.

“...‘Grandmaster’ doesn’t suit me.”

Sword Demon spoke.

“White Robes also seems to have made significant progress last night. Am I wrong?”

The White-Robed Scholar nodded slowly, as if tracing a dream.

“It wasn’t bad.”

We turned our heads, following rays of light peeking through the cliffs below.

Dawn was breaking.

The Lecher murmured,

“I also fought a fierce battle last night.”

Sword Demon replied,

“You did short meditation and shivered all night.”

I looked at him anew. So Sword Demon had kept the fire going because his disciple was cold.

When you share warmth with someone else... maybe it brings peace to yourself, too. Sword Demon’s presence felt far calmer than the night before.

The Lecher spoke.

“I walked across a snowy field all night in my dreams.”

We all turned to him.

“That’s it?”

He nodded.

“Surprisingly, that’s it. I just walked through snow all night.”

Sword Demon asked,

“Since each realization is personal, it’s hard to judge. What do you think?”

After thinking for a bit, the Lecher said,

“...Felt like it was telling me to endure. The cold itself. Until I became used to the agony.”

“There was no exit?”

“No.”

I suddenly realized we were talking about martial enlightenment.

Being able to talk about something so hard to describe with words—it was kind of a blessing.

To those who don’t train, this would’ve sounded like mad nonsense.

We all looked at the Drunk.

It felt like we’d all had some epiphany or breakthrough last night.

The Drunk looked uneasy.

“You’re all expecting something from me, huh...”

“That’s right.”

“I didn’t see any strange dreams or illusions. But after finishing meditation, I spent the night contemplating a single technique. A special form.”

I asked,

“What kind?”

The Drunk replied,

“Nothing fancy. I just thought about a technique using sword wind and sword qi at the same time.”

The White-Robed Scholar asked,

“Why that technique?”

The Drunk looked back at him.

“Because I thought—what if a chopstick came flying at me from the side and I needed to knock it away with sword wind while slashing the enemy in front of me with sword qi? I thought about training sword wind to burst from movement and posture, while sword qi is discharged directly from the blade. More precisely, shockwaves and sword qi. And if I refine it, maybe I can release both at the same time... Sorry, I’m rambling.”

I crossed my arms and looked at him.

“Not bad.”

So it was a technique born from the White-Robed Scholar’s ambush.

If that chopstick had been aimed at the Drunk, the one who died wouldn’t have been the ghost—it would’ve been him.

I looked to the White-Robed Scholar.

“You look like you’ve got advice.”

He replied while looking at the Drunk.

“A cheap trick.”

“I don’t care.”

“Then start practicing sword qi by stomping with shock steps. If you kick up rocks or dirt, you can expel that as a shockwave. That’ll mimic sword wind. Once you’re used to that, try without the stomp. Then, mix your footwork with advances and retreats. Will you use the form while charging? Or falling back? Or will you mask yourself momentarily with the stomp like fog? Your options will naturally expand.”

My eyes widened.

That wasn’t just advice—it was practically a gift of a new sword form.

“Nice.”

The White-Robed Scholar added,

“You think unusually defensively when constructing sword techniques. But more than half of effective defense is footwork. Even a basic sword form becomes complex when footwork is added. You know that, don’t you?”

He was laying out a future path for the Drunk to pursue in his swordsmanship.

The Drunk nodded slowly, absorbing the teaching.

I looked around at the brightening Manjang Gorge and spoke to everyone.

“Let’s rest a little, then eat once we leave the gorge. Can’t live off medicine forever.”

No one objected.

I remembered something and turned to Sword Demon.

“Elder Brother, did you have a breakthrough?”

We all looked at him.

He’d taken the same medicine we did—what insight had he gained?

Sword Demon looked around at us and said in a quiet tone,

“I didn’t.”

A little disappointing. But his aura had changed.

So I asked honestly,

“Then why are you smiling like that? What’s so funny? Share it.”

Sword Demon exhaled briefly, then looked at us.

“For the first time in a long while... I had an ordinary meditation.”

“......”

“No ghosts. No howling spirits. Just breathing, and building a little internal energy. When I opened my eyes, stars still filled the night sky, and you were all deep in your own cultivation. And even after that, the night passed without incident. In the cold of dawn, I watched the sunrise. It was all so ordinary... and to be honest, it shocked me.”

He looked around at us.

“This wasn’t a martial epiphany.”

He smiled.

“It was a life epiphany.”

His words were calm, but I couldn’t help but smile too.