The Martial God with Psychic Powers

People began talking about the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art Yeon Woo Jin had just displayed.
“Who would’ve thought Yeon would be learning the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art?”
“No way. He’s not learning all our manuals, is he?”
Faces twisted in disbelief.
“Does that sound possible to you? Every art has different qi and different internal routes—how could anyone learn them all?”
“Right. It’s nonsense. Unless he’s got a few dozen dantians, it can’t happen.”
“And the manuals here are peerless grand arts that take a lifetime even to learn one. How could anyone learn all of them?”
“Not unless he’s a god!”
They all dismissed it as absurd.
All except two.
Seo Sangbo of the Black Lotus Union and Cheon Geukrin of the Zhongnan Sect.
Hadn’t the two of them witnessed Yeon Woo Jin’s miracles?
Seo Sangbo and Cheon Geukrin believed it was entirely possible—for Yeon Woo Jin.
Why?
Because he was a god.
But they didn’t show it in public.
No one would believe them if they said it.
They’d seen it and still could hardly believe it; how would words convince anyone?
Hearts pounding, they waited only for the day they could receive their manuals from Yeon Woo Jin.
Had he learned theirs too?
They were dying to know.
—Do you think Young Master Yeon learned our manuals as well? Seo Sangbo’s voice transmission.
Cheon Geukrin nodded. —If it’s him, he did.
—I’m curious. How far did he take them?
—Most likely, to perfection.
—Heh-heh. Then we’ll be learning our arts from Young Master Yeon too?
—Isn’t that how it’ll go? You saw it—Mount Hua’s own Sect Leader bowed his head and asked to be taught the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art.
—If it’s Young Master Yeon, he’ll make it easy to understand.
—I think so too.
They nodded to each other.
Their paths had been different—orthodox and unorthodox—but in this moment they were closer colleagues than anyone.
—My heart already leans to Young Master Yeon. Now I understand why other sects serve him. I want to serve him as well.
Cheon Geukrin nodded. —As do I.
Seo Sangbo’s eyes widened, then he laughed.
—Heh-heh-heh. Then we’re no longer enemies, but comrades.
—A more troublesome pair for everyone else—why are you so pleased?
—More troublesome?
—You know Martial Deity Heaven has ranks.
—Ah!
—Still, let’s climb together if we can.
Seo Sangbo grinned. —Let’s. Friend.
—Friend, is it…? Hahaha! I like the sound of that, friend.
The two men shared a fierce smile.
 
****
The Huashan Sect Leader was stunned again and again.
The Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art that Yeon Woo Jin displayed was too perfect.
It was the ideal he had dreamed of.
Which made it harder to believe.
To achieve that from a single reading?
It was perfection that a lifetime of training couldn’t reach.
What was greater still was how easily he explained it.
It just slid straight into the ear.
He detailed even the finest flow of internal energy as each form unfolded—making ignorance impossible.
Not just inner movement—he taught the minute sensations in the muscles.
And so attainment began to skyrocket.
To the point he wondered if what he was learning was truly the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art.
Because it was too easy.
Even the abstruse passages in the manual were unraveled for him; there was no need to study the manual itself.

What to call it?
As if he was being force-fed enlightenment.
In truth, that’s what it was.
Even without enlightenment, his attainment was racing upward as if he’d attained it.
With the Purple Mist Divine Art layered onto the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art, the power doubled.
Time vanished as the Huashan Sect Leader sank wholly into Yeon Woo Jin’s teaching.
And as he learned, he fell for Yeon Woo Jin’s allure as well.
Now he understood why other sects served him as their lord.
Before him, the divide of orthodox and heretical meant nothing.
Strength and weakness meant nothing.
Prestige meant nothing.
Before him, all were equal.
No—by following him, one could rise into a realm never seen before.
With each passing day, his heart toward Yeon Woo Jin deepened.
After three weeks, he had learned the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art and the Purple Mist Divine Art to the ninth stage.
Even he could hardly believe such attainment in such a short span.
Which made Yeon Woo Jin all the more fearsome—and awe-inspiring.
If he wished, he could mass-produce masters like himself.
More frightening still was his comprehension of the martial ways—piercing the heavens.
How brilliant did one have to be to do this?
And it wasn’t just brilliance.
He was strong.
Even after adding the Purple Mist Divine Art to the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art and growing stronger, he couldn’t so much as brush Yeon Woo Jin’s lapel.
And that wasn’t even Yeon Woo Jin’s full power.
He was attacking to the point of losing his breath; Yeon Woo Jin didn’t even let his breathing waver.
What did that mean?
He hadn’t used any strength at all.
Not a shred of power—against him, a master at the Manifestation tier and the Huashan Sect Leader.
A thought flashed.
The Martial Deity Heaven Lord’s words—that even he couldn’t beat his grandson.
He’d thought that was a grandfather praising his grandson.
Now he felt it might be true.
At the very least, the Martial Deity Heaven Lord must have fought him in earnest.
Whatever the case, the coming hundred years and more would surely be Yeon Woo Jin’s era.
“You know this part—beyond here, you must achieve on your own.”
“Understood.”
The rest would have to be realized through insight.
That was what Yeon Woo Jin was saying now.
“You’ve worked hard. Train diligently and set your attainment as high as you can.”
“Yes!”
“If your attainment doesn’t rise… I’ll be disappointed.”
Why did those words—I’ll be disappointed—hit him so hard in the chest?
“That will never happen!”
“Yes. I trust you.”
He hadn’t known that being trusted could feel this good.
Hearing that Yeon Woo Jin trusted him made him feel as if he could fly.
I should say that often to my disciples, from now on.
He realized he’d been too harsh on them.
He resolved to do better; at that moment, Yeon Woo Jin reached a hand toward him.
“Please stay still and trust me for a moment.”
The Huashan Sect Leader nodded and stood quietly.
Yeon Woo Jin brought his hand to the Sect Leader’s ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) eyes, and his head swam, just a little.
He’d done something.
“All right. Open your eyes.”
He did as told, but nothing seemed different.
Then Yeon Woo Jin said,
“Breathe internal energy into your eyes.”
He did—and something astonishing happened.
“—!”
Someone who looked exactly like him was standing right in front of him.
“W-what is this?”
“Training alone gets dull. I made you a partner for mindscape sparring.”
Mindscape? It was plain as day to his eyes.
Cautiously, he reached out to the figure—and jerked in shock.
“—!”
He could feel it.
If he could feel it, what did that mean?
It meant the figure before him wasn’t an illusion—it was real.
He stared at Yeon Woo Jin in shock; the latter smiled.
“You can feel real contact, and if that figure hits you, it hurts like a real blow.”
Should he believe this?
“That figure is stronger than you are. While you train alone, try to beat it. The moment you defeat it, you’ll step up another rung.”
If anyone else had said this and made him “see” a figure, he would have barked at them for pulling tricks and not let it pass—but this was Yeon Woo Jin.
“I… I understand. I can’t thank you enough for such consideration…”
“Your growing stronger is how you repay me. You must.”
“I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”
He didn’t realize it.
That what he was doing now looked exactly like the loyal devotion of a subordinate pledging fealty.
 
****
Next after the Huashan Sect Leader was Head Abbot Hyeon Go of the Shaolin Temple.
Unlike other sects, Shaolin had resisted Martial Deity Heaven to the very end.
As the price, theirs were manuals that had been forcibly taken—unlike the others.
To heap on “insolence,” not one but several manuals had been taken, along with the recipe for the Great Rejuvenation Pill.
That was why no one in Shaolin liked Martial Deity Heaven.
If anything, they bore a grudge.
Still, as befit those who cultivated the Buddha’s way and trained mind and body, they did not show it outwardly.
The public story, however, was entirely different.
What the world “knew” was that Shaolin, unlike other sects, had voluntarily handed over more manuals to Martial Deity Heaven.
It was said they set an example for the peace of the martial world.
Of course, that tale had been spread by Martial Deity Heaven.
If word got out they had seized them by force, backlash might rise—so they dressed Shaolin in praise.
It was more humiliating for Shaolin, but as the world lauded them, some of the bitterness eased.
Back then, the manuals taken as “insolence tax” totaled three: Hundred-Step Divine Fist, Unsurpassed Great Power Art, and Bodhidharma Grand Zen Art.
Plus the Great Rejuvenation Pill recipe.
That didn’t make Shaolin weak.
Those three were indeed among their strongest arts, but Shaolin had plenty to match them.
Yeon Woo Jin knew well the history between Shaolin and Martial Deity Heaven.
So when he handed the manuals over, he apologized.
“On my grandfather’s behalf, I apologize.”
At his courteous apology, Head Abbot Hyeon Go laughed broadly.
“It’s all in the past. Long forgotten. Don’t trouble your heart.”
He meant it.
Yeon Woo Jin felt the sincerity and admired him for it.
“In hindsight, Martial Deity Heaven’s choice back then likely allowed the martial world to remain peaceful for a long time. I did have one lingering concern, but now I can lay it to rest.”
“A concern?”
“About the next lord of Martial Deity Heaven. Would the successor love peace? If not, what would become of the martial world? That kind of worry. But seeing you, I know it was needless.”
“Thank you for seeing me kindly.”
“I’m certain you’ll be the next lord of Martial Deity Heaven. If so, the next hundred years and more will be more peaceful than now. And with our manuals and the Great Rejuvenation Pill recipe returned, I have nothing more to ask.”
“I’ll teach you all three arts.”
“What do you mean? Are you saying you’ve learned them?”
“Yes.”
Head Abbot Hyeon Go clicked his tongue in amazement.
“Marvelous. You truly are heaven-sent.”
“You believe me?”
“A little while ago, I saw you perform Mount Hua’s Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art to perfection. I wondered then, and now I know—you learned every manual you’re returning to us. To master them from a single reading… extraordinary.”
He accepted Yeon Woo Jin’s words without the slightest doubt.
“Then the Huashan Sect Leader is relearning the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art from you?”
“Yes.”
“How long did it take?”
He knew that a day outside the Time-Space Division Formation was a month within; that was why he asked.
“Three weeks.”
“That was enough time?”
“Yes.”
“Well, the Huashan Sect Leader already knew the Twenty-Four Forms Plum-Blossom Sword Art. In that case, it could be possible.”