Chapter 9: The War I Slept Through

The unexpected outcome of the swift sparring match left the arena in stunned silence.

…That’s just first-class?

Cheon Yuha stared at the man standing alone in the sparring ring, thinking.

If he was truly first-class, then the world was wrong.

There was no way someone that strong could be stuck at first-class without some trickery.

Yuha suddenly recalled the look in Choi Kangjun’s eyes from their first meeting.

The inexplicable confidence of a super-peak martial artist aiming to defeat her.

Since yesterday, she’d begun to understand the source of that confidence.

No, she was certain.

…This guy is strong.

Perhaps even stronger than her.

BOOOOM—!!

A spear of light and a greatsword clashed, emitting a deafening roar as they tried to pierce and destroy each other.

A white-winged angel and a steel warrior collided.

Neither seemed to care that this was just a spar.

They fought with all their might to crush their opponent.

If not for the protective barrier around the arena, the surroundings would’ve been obliterated.

Even the top students of Class 1—Heavenly Path—stood in awe, watching the spectacle.

The gap between them and these fighters was insurmountable.

“The valedictorian’s holding his own against a professor.”

“Seriously.”

“Some call this generation the golden age. They might be right.”

“Could be.”

“Class 2’s angel is stronger than rumored, and the other top students are impressive too.”

“That’s good news.”

The aide, tired of the repetitive responses, turned away.

As a martial artist, looking away from such a battle was regrettable, but her duty was to assist.

The vice president always watched classes with a smile, but today, her gaze seemed elsewhere.

The aide decided it was more important to focus on her.

“…Did something happen in Beast Path while I was away?”

Vice President Lee Cheong turned to the aide, her face blooming with an even brighter smile than usual.

“Something? Oh, something happened alright. I saw something very interesting.”

“Was the Heavenly Demon Cult’s young leader, the Martial Dragon, that impressive? More than the valedictorian?”

The aide couldn’t believe it.

Seondo’s faculty were at least Hwa-kyung or 7th-circle masters.

Among them, the professor of Class 1—Heavenly Path, Archangel Ariella—was a titan.

Could the cult’s young leader outshine the valedictorian fighting toe-to-toe with that monster?

Lee Cheong immediately shook her head.

“That one’s an exception. Might even be stronger than me. I just found someone to my taste.”

“…Not the young leader?”

“Nope.”

“Another gem, then?”

“Hmm, more like a stone I want to skip across the water myself.”

“What kind of person are we talking about?”

Lee Cheong grinned mischievously, looking up at the ceiling.

The bright lights dazzled her.

Shading her eyes, she murmured softly,

“Someone I want to nurture myself.”

[Beast Path – Basic Combat Guidance]

The sparring was briefly halted after a Shaolin monk, Iljin, smashed the arena with his head and feet.

But the Monday-Tuesday morning Combat Theory class, which monopolized the schedule, didn’t end there.

After a five-minute break, a sorcery department TA was dispatched to repair the arena, and class resumed.

“Ram’s Horn!”

“Luxury Orb Technique!”

BOOM! CRASH!

Students clashed, pitting their bodies and inherited family techniques against each other.

Unlike me, most students were evenly matched, leading to prolonged, intense battles.

Fists against fists, fists against swords, various weapons, and secret family techniques mixed chaotically.

Still, as a spar, lethal weapons and bare fists rarely clashed directly.

Of course, there were exceptions.

“Shoot! Fire at will!”

“You crazy woman!”

Excluding that exception—the young leader Cheon Yuha and the elf Eleanora’s arrow-dodging stunt—sparring stayed within reasonable bounds.

Their skill level was worthy of the so-called “golden age.”

Unlike me, with high technique but a frail body, these were well-balanced prodigies.

They might pale compared to top-tier students, but they were undoubtedly future heroes to lead the world.

And I beat Iljin, a top-tier first-class.

I admit it’s a petty thought.

I’d been earning a living with my fists for years—losing to a seventeen-year-old with sealed inner energy, even with my arms impaired, would’ve been humiliating.

But winning in my current pathetic state was what mattered.

I was confident I’d grow stronger with time.

…Damn inner energy.

That was the only thing holding me back.

“What? Your classes are already done?”

“Yup, just this one today.”

“…Mine go till 6 p.m.”

“All I can say is good luck.”

“Thanks, that’s enough.”

After class, I chatted briefly with Yuha, who’d grown clingier, over lunch before heading to the training hall.

I’d already reviewed the spar, so there was nothing left to ponder.

What I needed was to replenish my damn inner energy.

I sat cross-legged on the energy-gathering formation in the training hall.

Great Heavenly Cycle.

I circulated qi through my body, clearing impurities from my meridians.

For a first-class martial artist, my meridians were unusually clean, my energy pure.

Yesterday, I thought that was enough.

My inner energy accumulated faster than I’d feared.

But today, the narrow meridians, slow circulation, and meager inner energy of a first-class martial artist felt stifling.

I knew why.

…That was close.

I’d miscalculated the gap between my future potential and current state.

Using basic techniques a few times drained my inner energy completely.

I’d noticed it yesterday with Great Shift—my body kept up, but my energy didn’t.

The so-called harmony of mind, qi, and body was misaligned.

…Am I expecting too much?

It was unreasonable to demand so much from a first-class body.

I was growing impatient.

Recalling past missed opportunities, I was gripped by irrational fear.

My resolve to avoid failure this time, fueled by greed, was shaking me.

Peak.

The 21st-century divide between fake and true martial artists, a realm I couldn’t reach as a young man in my past life.

I’d hit that realm in my mid-twenties, but now I had to reach it in just six months.

Though I was different now, filling decades of inner energy in four months by the semester’s end in June was impossible.

At least naturally.

Higher realms didn’t let you copy inner energy.

Without opening the upper dantian to connect with heavenly qi, elixirs were my only option.

Earth’s dungeons, mystical artifacts, Seondo’s artificial demonic realms, and scholarship benefits.

I recalled every method and place I’d heard of to boost inner energy.

But they were all far away or too tough to tackle alone, requiring me to skip classes.

And this damn school expelled you for a single F.

…Damn it, so frustrating.

Couldn’t some free elixir just fall from the sky?

With that vain hope, I attended classes and trained, repeating the cycle.

“A martial artist should use their body! Come at me anytime!”

Yuha, with a packed class schedule, wanted to spar after evening classes.

I dodged, citing my unhealed arms, vaguely promising to fight once fully recovered.

I’d already taken theory classes in my past life, and aside from Monday-Tuesday’s Combat Theory, practical classes hadn’t fully started.

With fewer distractions, I focused more on inner energy training.

Time flew, and Friday arrived.

The day my arm cast came off.

Feeling liberated but sensing Yuha’s impatience, I sat cross-legged.

Free Elective—[Meditation]

Friday, 2 p.m. to 6 p.m.

Four hours of routine energy circulation in the training hall.

A class slotted in to earn credits without disrupting my training.

I was so blindly focused on training.

I knew I had no other options back then, but it was foolish.

Regrettably, I was doing the same now.

Sighing, I circulated qi through my meridians, repeating the process for hours.

How many Great Heavenly Cycles did I complete?

Opening my eyes, it was 8 p.m.

The professor and other students had long left.

Stiff from sitting, I stretched and left the training hall.

Thanks to recent circulation, my body felt fresh, but my mind was subtly drained.

Dragging my soon-to-collapse body, I walked the darkened campus paths.

Crack—Crack—!

Loosening my stiff neck, I scanned my surroundings.

Even late, on a wide road, I stayed alert to avoid bumping into anyone.

Blink—Blink—

My vigilance paid off.

I noticed someone standing under a flickering light, about to go out.

…

Recognizing the figure, I straightened, steadied my breathing, and maintained my slow, narrow steps.

I stared straight ahead.

Blink—…Blink—…

In the moment the light went out— “Snake Slayer.”

An assailant thrust a dagger at me.

“—You bastard!”

Swish! A few strands of hair were cut.

My cheek stung.

Touching it, I felt a scratch, barely bleeding, but clearly grazed by a blade.

…What kind of lunatic is this?

I glared at the maniac swinging a blade on campus.

Seondo might be fight-crazed, but it didn’t condone skipping protocol.

Formal sparring was welcomed, ambushes were not.

Instant expulsion.

Why the hell was this guy targeting me?

Was it because I’d been hanging with Yuha, mistaken for a demonic cult member?

Or did some group sense something off about my martial realm?

Or maybe…

My thoughts were brief. The figure in the dark spoke first.

I glared at a familiar face.

“Wow, you’re stronger than I expected. Don’t look at me like that—I’m hurting too.”

Class 3, Combat Division Rank 15, Tadano Ansassa, shrugged cheekily.

Clutching his broken left rib, blood dripping from his mouth, he looked pathetic, but it wasn’t satisfying.

He swung a damn blade. Is a fist the same as a weapon? Should’ve smashed his face.

No, it wasn’t too late.

Mad dogs needed a beating.

As I readied a punch, the assassin tilted his head and asked,“What, you didn’t hear?”

“Hear what, you lunatic?”

“Huh? We’ve been advertising since last night, and you still don’t know? Where the hell were you?”

Tadano Ansassa, with snake-like eyes and a pale face, grinned.

The future head of the general’s special forces, a current assassin and vanguard, said, “War.”

A typical pride battle between your Korea and our Empire.

The Korea-Japan War.

…Huh?

I had no idea what he was talking about.