By Zephyria 
I was excited by the thought of passing down the internal energy cultivation method to the disciples here with the help of the wizards for a while, but I felt a complex mix of emotions upon recognizing only twelve out of three hundred and sixty-one acupoints.
Since acupoints are hidden within the human body, simply thinking, “It seems to be around here…” was not enough.
It was the same principle as a bad cook who, thinking, “It seems to be about this much,” dumps in a mountain of salt, rendering the dish inedible no matter how good the ingredients.
I knew my own body well, but since I wasn’t a physician, I didn’t know how others’ pulses beat.
In the Central Plains, taking a martial artist’s pulse was a breach of etiquette. A master of internal energy could threaten an opponent by forcing their fierce internal energy into another’s pulse. Grasping someone’s wrist to converse was no different than grabbing them by the scruff of their neck.
Moreover, the people here, Sierren’s people, looked different and had different builds than those from the Central Plains. The more I thought about it, the more daunting it became.
That wasn’t the only problem.
“Professor, what do you think? Comparing the Knights’ aura operation method with mine… Of course, I gained strength quickly using this method, but it seems like a method that cannot be universally applied.”
“I agree. To have accumulated mana naturally through breathing from the moment of birth means you awakened the immaterial realm when you were purest and most intimate with mana. Even if one knew the method, not just anyone could follow it. A person needs to be about eight years old to move their limbs fully by their own will.”
“Well…”
“Even if they become eight, you don’t know if that child will want to become a Knight, a Wizard, or a baker. That’s an important issue.”
I froze at the unexpected words.
I was dumbfounded by the statement that one doesn’t know what a child wants to be. In many parts of the Central Plains, children were always starving. Wherever you went, there were crowds of beggars, and a third of them were always children.
There was a reason the Beggars’ Sect flourished. Having a hundred thousand members meant there were well over a hundred thousand beggars in the Martial World.
Whether it was Hebei, where the Imperial Palace was located, or Hubei, famous for its Dongting Lake tours, or Guangxi, Guangdong, Guizhou, Shaanxi, or Xi’an, useful children could be picked up anywhere in the Central Plains.
The Nine Sects were either beggars or Taoists. If a child with a martial physique, around five or six years old, was found unprotected on the street, they were simply picked up and made a disciple.
These children who became martial artists would call the person who raised them ‘master’ and treat them like parents for their entire long lives, remaining loyal to the sect.
The Five Great Clans were passed down through bloodlines. When one married and had children, those children became martial artists of the clan. Those who were frail or lacked martial talent were ridiculed and assigned to manage farmland or libraries. Since they were born into the clan, they had to die within it.
Children who became members of the Orthodox Sects were relatively better off.
The Haomun took in girls and raised them as courtesans, while evil sects like Heisa-mun or Wolha-mun kidnapped older children and used them to extort money from the common people.
Assassin organizations like Eumhyang-dan or Eunwol-dan would lock children in caves, cut out their tongues, and train them as assassins. The Demonic Cult, which rose up to claim the Martial World, would bury a hundred children in a pit and wait until one survived, then take the victor as their subordinate.
Children were not beings who chose; they were beings who were chosen. Those with power decided so.
From the moment I was born in the Central Plains, I was destined to become a martial artist, and even after being born in Sierren, I was destined to become a martial artist. However, the man before me had likely never considered such a life.
My fingertips trembled, and I placed what I was holding on the table.
Douglas, seeing my expression, pulled his water glass closer and said, “Uh, what’s wrong? Are you cold? Should I get you a blanket?”
“No, no. It’s just… I was thinking about how one could possibly find a child who wants to be a Knight from birth, and it felt overwhelming… That is, the method I use… I heard it usually starts around five years old… and that ten is already too late…”
“Exactly, right? It didn’t seem like a method that could be universally useful. That’s why it was even more fascinating. Shall we look at experiments done not on people, but on other animals and monsters? It’s the part marked with the blue string—”
The voice that followed was still gentle and kind. The way he hunched his large frame to appear smaller was likely an effort to ensure the person sitting before him didn’t feel threatened.
I was familiar with that posture. It was exactly how I looked when I stood before a parentless child in the Central Plains, asking if they would rather live by washing dishes or sweeping even if it meant working for a noble family.
Most children would cry and take my hand, and sometimes, when I encountered them within the clan, they would smile brightly and thank me. Even if I took in a street child and made them a lifelong servant, they called me their benefactor.
If I had told those children I would teach them the internal energy cultivation method, they would have rejoiced and performed the nine prostrations to seal the master-disciple bond. However, the clan’s martial arts were considered exclusive, so I had never attempted it.
The worlds were different, so there was no need to think of them as the same. Yet, the more I learned, the more I lived, the more I felt pity and sorrow for everything in that land. Even though I had no hand to extend now, and even if a path back were opened, I didn’t want to return to a place where all those I cherished were gone.
I felt a lump in my throat, feeling pity for them and for my past self.
I listened to various explanations for a long time.
Ultimately, I received a promise that the technology was not yet realized but that they would connect me to the Magic Tower when the time came, if I wished.
When I asked why not now, he naturally replied that it was because I had not yet matured enough.
This world is gentle.
My steps on the way back to the dormitory were restless, and I kept looking up at the sky.
The black sky was dotted with stars, but not as many as in the Central Plains. It was because there was light on the ground as well. Streetlights, embedded with magic stones at intervals, illuminated the path with a sweet yellow glow, so that students walking on the dark path at night wouldn’t trip over stones.
Taking a step and looking at the sky, then another step and looking at the sky, I decided it wouldn’t do and changed my course towards the martial arts training ground. There was only one thing I did when I felt suffocated. It had been less than a month since I resolved to reach the realm I regretted my entire past life for, putting aside such unfitting tears, yet my heart was already wavering, which felt unsettling.
The martial arts training ground, which was supposed to be unused after eight o’clock, was empty and silent. The decorative trees encircling a corner of the unlit training ground swayed in the wind as if weeping against the darkness, their leaves rustling.
I couldn’t stand confidently in the center and instead found a suitable corner and drew my sword.
I gripped the sword firmly with both hands. To return to my beginner’s mind, the first thing I always did was the Three Fundamentals. I firmly planted my lower body and began the horizontal slash. The line, drawn horizontally from a point on the left to a point on the right, was a clear straight line. Once more, as if drawn with a ruler, and again.
This was the first thing I learned when I first set foot in the Namgung Family. I was five years old then. I could only eat and sleep after performing a thousand horizontal slashes, a thousand vertical slashes, and a thousand thrusts in a horse stance with untrained legs.
This was the sword that once trembled at the tip, that flailed wildly from upper left to lower right, and from lower left to upper right. It was a sword that held the time I endured with gritted teeth, tears streaming down my face. It was a line that was barely formed with geomancy and then set upright in my youth, after strengthening my lower body and calming my mind.
Later, seeing a straight line naturally calmed my mind.
When I inhaled, I gathered energy, and when I exhaled, I released it. The energy I gained was steadily pushed into my Dantian.
I didn’t use a shred of internal energy, yet the air was cut without a sound. I didn’t count the numbers. I knew the next breath would follow at the proper time, in the proper moment.
After about a hundred horizontal slashes, I raised my sword and pointed to a spot high above. The vertical slash was also a steadfast, straight line. My gaze was fixed forward, but the tip of the sword rose as if to touch the moon, then plunged straight down to just before my Dantian.
Starlight glinted sharply on the blade, but the faint luminescence would only be bright within about five paces.
My body was already exhausted from the entire class. There was no strength left to torment my body again after tormenting my body and mind. My martial uniform, which had been dry and stiff, became damp and clung to my body again. Yet, the speed of my sword strikes remained consistent, just like at the beginning. Each stroke seemed to plunge from the sky to the earth.
Just as I had suddenly descended upon this land.
“…Hoo.”
I released the horse stance to thrust, firmly placing my sword-wielding right hand behind my waist. As I straightened my upper body and caught my breath, my finely honed Qi sense detected someone.
I hadn’t paid attention, thinking they were going to another building far away, but I felt them hesitate where they stood and approach, and my heart fluttered.
Feeling a sense of unease about not being able to finish properly, I couldn’t lower my sword and waited for a moment, pointing to a spot in the air.
As the presence drew closer, I finally gave up and relaxed my stance.
“…I seem to have interrupted.”
“No, you haven’t.”
If you know you’re interrupting, you don’t come back.
The boy who emerged from the pitch-black darkness was also pitch-black, making me feel as if I had encountered a Central Plains person from the far Western Regions. Only his hair and eye color resembled those of Central Plains people; his tall stature and deep-set eyes were distinctly Sierren, yet it felt that way.
Well, he’s a boy who even has Sierren attached to his name.
Until I faced Rubel’s face, I had completely forgotten, but suddenly, I remembered how the boy had flustered and stumbled during the morning class.
Standing with an empty chest, facing the dawn, I felt a pang of concern anew. Come to think of it, the person before me also seemed subdued, as if he had experienced something troubling, just like me.
As most people do when they go for a walk on a dark night.
If this were the Central Plains, and I were Namgung Jeong-yeon, around forty-two, I would have taken the troubled geomancy boy by the wrist, sat him down at an inn, and offered silent comfort by ordering him a bowl of noodles and a plate of dumplings. But now, there was nothing appropriate to feed him, nor anything more to say.
As the boy stood there blankly looking at me, and I stood there blankly facing him, it felt strange. After about eight breaths of silent stillness, I spoke first.
“What is it? Since this morning.”
“Did something happen?”
“What do you mean, ‘something’? Nothing happened. I just couldn’t sleep.”
I knew we weren’t at a stage to bare our hearts to each other. Seeing that he showed no signs of leaving, I finally sheathed my sword and ran my hand through my sweat-dampened hair with my bare hand. My hands and hair were messily wet, but it wasn’t something to worry about since I’d be going in to wash anyway.
I opened my mouth to say something but stopped, looking up at the boy’s troubled face. He was solidly handsome. I wondered what he was trying to say, walking all the way to the person dancing with a sword in the moonlight.
Since it seemed he wouldn’t open his mouth even if I waited, I pondered for a moment, then walked past him with long strides. I found the spot under the tree where Maelo Sanson and the two girls had sat before and plopped down. I knew this spot well; it was flat and well-leveled, making it not bad for resting.
Even though I moved without a word, the boy followed my steps without complaint and stood before me. Just as Sanson had done when he looked at me, he tapped the spot next to me, gesturing for me to sit.
“Isn’t it you, Senior, who has something going on?”
“…I just couldn’t sleep either.”
“Let’s just look at the stars for a bit before going in.”
I was never good at comforting words due to my lack of eloquence. After sitting there for a long time, when I said, “I’m tired now, let’s go in,” Rubel obediently nodded.
Thinking it was strange that a prince could be so listless, as if he hadn’t eaten anything, I went in, washed up, and went to bed.
Perhaps it was because I had exerted myself physically, or perhaps it was because someone had silently stayed by my side at the end, but I slept soundly without dreaming.