Chapter 184
Flowering Stage.
Even counting all the retired masters, there are barely twenty martial artists in the Central Plains who’ve reached this realm.
It may sound like a lot when you say “twenty,” but remember, most of them are heads of the Five Supreme Clans or the Nine Great Sects.
While others spend a lifetime trying—maybe—just to break through to the Peak Stage, these sects possess multiple supreme cultivation arts that guarantee Peak Stage if you just devote the time.
While most martial artists struggle to become top-tier and debate whether to settle down and open a small dojo…
I once saw a direct descendant of another Supreme Clan, barely past twenty, brooding over why he hadn't reached the Peak Stage like his next-door friend.
It’s a memory from my previous life, so it’s old, but it left such an impression that I still remember it clearly.
Yes, the Five Supreme Clans and Nine Great Sects are basically the entrenched ruling class of Murim—stagnant pools, if you will.
Just look at the Hwangbo Clan, which took a wrong turn—no longer producing Flowering Stage warriors, they resorted to forbidden arts, didn’t they?
“Cheon Hwi-da? Objectively speaking, aren’t you now a member of one of those entrenched powers—Sichuan’s Tang Clan? You’re not even twenty yet, and you’ve already reached the Flowering Stage, so what are you going on about?” “If I hype it up, doesn’t it make my achievement sound even greater?”
“Even without the hype, Flowering Stage is already something everyone recognizes.”
“But what I say next is the important part. If Flowering Stage warriors are the minimum requirement to establish and maintain such powerful sects, then doesn’t that mean I could do the same now? There’s a big difference between just being strong and being the ruler of a region.”
As I shrugged, Tang Sowol gave me a strange look, like I’d grown a second head.
Seo Mun-Hwarin, who’d been listening nearby, had a slightly different reaction.
“Oho! If you’re planning to start your own clan, then by coincidence, the heir’s seat at the Seomun Clan is still—”
“Clan head.”
“Senior Seo Mun-Hwarin, I’m now an equal—another Flowering Stage master like you. Do you expect me to be satisfied with just becoming heir? Unless you’re handing over the clan head position, I kindly ask you to stop offering.”
“Eeit! Are you calling me a backroom elder already...?”
Maybe not “backroom,” but the “elder” part probably isn’t wrong.
Still, that’s too rude to say out loud. I’m a Flowering Stage martial artist now. I should act with some dignity.
“Ahem.”
“…I have a feeling you’re thinking something very impolite right now.”
“Don’t worry, Sister Seo Mun. Cheon Hwi’s always been a little rude, so nothing’s changed.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin reacted sharply to my clearing my throat, and Seol Lihyang tried to calm her down—but her tone was full of quiet slander.
Apparently, Tang Sowol thought the same, as she chuckled and added:
“Don’t be too harsh. That rough edge is part of Cheon Hwi-da’s charm, isn’t it?”
“You’re calling that charm…?”
“If it’s not unbearable to watch, isn’t that charm enough?”
“You’ve got a generous standard.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin looked at Tang Sowol’s chest with a thoughtful nod—maybe due to the height difference.
“Mmm. Very generous indeed.”
Though she likely noticed the glance, Tang Sowol let it slide and spoke calmly.
“Well, jokes aside, you do seem in a good mood today. Did something happen, Cheon Hwi-da?”
“What else? I finally got approval from the Medical Hall Master that I’m healthy enough to wield a sword again.”
Lazing around the room with Tang Sowol and chatting with visitors like Seol Lihyang or Seo Mun-Hwarin had been nice, yes…
But it’s also true that I missed the feel of a sword in my hand.
As my body recovered, I could keenly feel the changes in it. The thirst to swing a sword again only grew stronger.
After nearly a month, I could finally grip a blade once more. And on top of that, the Medical Hall Master confirmed that I now had something close to immunity to all poisons.
How could I not be excited?
“There’s so much I want to test—especially sword force, and maybe even get a sense for body-protecting qi if possible.”
“You’re ambitious. Focusing only on sword force for now would already be difficult. Though your will has become strong enough to condense sword qi into sword force… being able to use it and being able to use it in combat are different things.”
“Same goes for body-protecting qi, I imagine.”
“Exactly. And since it also consumes willpower, even if your internal energy is plentiful, you can become exhausted just from will depletion. And what about full-body qi protection?”
“Can you train willpower too?”
“Of course. You can’t build it up with cultivation techniques like internal energy, nor skip ahead with elixirs, but…”
Seo Mun-Hwarin explained that willpower is honed solely through meditation, focus, and gradual enlightenment.
As she spoke enthusiastically, she glanced at me and added:
“You’ll figure this out soon enough, so I’ll tell you now. The reason internal energy and willpower train so differently lies in a fundamental difference.”
“Fundamental?”
“Yes. Internal energy is something you accumulate. You refine nature’s qi according to a cultivation method and store it in your dantian. But willpower isn’t something you accumulate—it’s something you hone, like sharpening a blade.”
“So the difference lies in their source.”
If internal energy is about taking something from outside and making it yours…
Then willpower is about drawing out and mastering what’s already within you.
The sensation I felt in that final moment against the Poison Demon.
As I relived that memory, clenching and relaxing my fist, my internal energy naturally stirred.
By habit, I tried to suppress it, but then remembered I no longer needed to.
The energy flowed through my fingertips more naturally than I expected. But that alone wouldn’t be enough.
As we chatted and walked, the entrance to the training grounds came into view. I found myself grinning as I stepped inside.
The first thing we did was scatter to our own stations.
No particular reason. It’s just that I wasn’t the only one who had broken through during this time.
Tang Sowol had reached the Sub-Perfection Stage. She hadn’t been showing off, but she must’ve been eager to test her new power.
Seol Lihyang likely went back to her usual training, and Seo Mun-Hwarin was helping her.
Hoo…
I let out a deep breath and faced a straw dummy ahead.
It had a core of solid blue steel stone and was wrapped in straw—fairly sturdy.
Sword qi might struggle to slice through it in one strike… but sword force was another story.
The ability to cut what was previously uncuttable—that’s the clearest sign of change.
It was expensive, so I might get yelled at later, but with all the loot from the archive, I figured breaking one wouldn’t hurt.
I nodded to myself and drew my sword.
The sensation of my palm fusing with the blade—it was the familiar unity of mind and sword.
That hadn’t changed much.
Come to think of it, the very act of drawing a sword path with perfect accuracy could be considered a basic application of willpower.
I recalled the feeling from when I had drawn out qi force during battle.
I cleared away emotions built up over a lifetime and faced the truth I hadn’t dared to accept.
Only now did I understand the atmosphere unique to Flowering Stage martial artists.
It didn’t come from their techniques—but from within themselves.
Their true, unadorned self.
When I cast aside killing intent and confusion, what remained at the bottom of my heart was a desire far purer than I expected.
I had always just wanted to protect those precious to me.
As that awareness crystallized, something other than internal energy—already swirling around the blade—began to stir.
With Soul, Energy, and Body united, there was no reason to keep them separate.
Willpower, born from fierce resolve, naturally blended into my Qi.
The shimmering sword qi condensed, then flared up like flame.
It compressed unnaturally under my will, becoming sharper and more focused.
Woom!
All I did was swing—and yet, the power was so focused that my black iron sword quivered under the strain.
The blazing internal energy that had been blood-red flared one last time—
—and as it crystallized into qi force, that bloody hue shattered, revealing a pure white sword force.
As expected, it took time to draw it out and required intense focus.
But I succeeded on my first try. That alone was worth noting.
It shimmered far too brightly to be just internal energy.
Perhaps the first person to reach this realm thought the same, which is why they called it gang—the essence of the Big Dipper.
To my eyes, though, it didn’t look like starlight.
It looked like snow—the color of winter, or perhaps pale moonlight.
The same snow that once melted helplessly in fire, soaked in blood… or the faint glow I couldn’t see clearly during my final night beneath the clouds.
I’m not yet strong enough to stand against the looming shadow of the Heavenly Demon.
But I’ve finally reached the starting line.
With that resolve—to bring light to a night I once failed to illuminate—I swung my sword with all my strength.
The Three Fundamental Sword Arts—this was the Taesan Crushing Slash, a simple vertical strike.
A pale white line traced the air.
KWAGAGAGANG!!
The training dummy, embedded with blue steel stone, and even the wall behind it made entirely of solid stone, were obliterated.
“…Ah.”
Guess I swung too hard.
All strength drained from my body, and a pounding headache made me stumble.
Seo Mun-Hwarin, who had run over in alarm, examined me carefully and sighed as she shook her head.
“You need to learn to control your strength first.”
“But isn’t it fine if I can finish an enemy in one blow?”
“And what if there are two enemies? Planning to offer your neck to the second?”
I grumbled, but her retort was so logical I had no reply.
This was a first—my strength being a problem.
In my past life, I was always short on internal energy.
In this life, thanks to experience, I thought I had mastered control...
But apparently, things were different now.
Still dazed, I barely kept my balance and asked:
“Of course I’ll practice control, but if I keep destroying training grounds every time I do, that’ll be a problem.”
“If I were the Tang Clan Head, I’d say, ‘My son-in-law reached the Flowering Stage—who cares about a few walls?’ But... best not to break things if you don’t have to.”
“Any alternatives?”
“Of course.”
Seo Mun-Hwarin rose slightly on her toes, puffed out her modest chest, and lifted her chin high.
“Ahem!”
“You’ve got me, haven’t you?”
“…You’re kidding.”
I stared at her, eyes wide, but she nodded firmly.
“Let’s spar for a while, shall we?”
“Ah, I’d rather not.”
“…?!”
As I flatly refused, her previously lifted shoulders drooped.
But I had my reasons.