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Chapter 4
Amun’s training hall.
When Danyeop slipped inside, a bitter smile spread across the lips of Dan Bulwi, Amun’s martial instructor.
Originally just a gatekeeper (the lowest rank of manager) in Amun, he had been left behind in the Tomb of Soldiers and Horses ten years ago, against his will.
But that became the turning point of his life.
After seven years of arduous training, three years ago he was promoted to Xiangzhu, and eventually became Amun’s martial instructor.
As a Xiangzhu, he was allowed to leave once a year, but having developed a taste for closed-door training, he never left the tomb.
The Tomb of Soldiers and Horses was underground, but peculiarly, at its center was a place where sunlight shone through.
Thanks to this, one could distinguish day from night, which greatly helped in maintaining mental balance.
That was the biggest reason Dan Bulwi stayed in the tomb.
“What is it you feel lacking?”
Though Dan Bulwi was infamous among the trainees for his harshness, he was strangely lenient with Danyeop.
Perhaps it was out of guilt.
After all, he was the one who had kidnapped the four-year-old from the streets, and even given him the name Danyeop.
He was also the first to call him “baby monkey.”
Now, everyone just called him “stone monkey.”
Lowering his eyes, Danyeop spoke.
“Heart-Purifying Elixir Art (심정단공, 心淨丹功).”
“What about the Seven Wounds Saber Technique? That’d be more useful in real combat.”
Amun’s main business was human trafficking, so naturally their martial arts leaned toward the demonic.
Accordingly, they valued killing arts like the Seven Wounds Saber Technique.
By contrast, the Heart-Purifying Elixir Art, true to its name, was excellent for calming one’s mind, but nothing more.
Since it had nothing to do with internal energy, even Amun treated it as worthless.
“I can already do that one fairly well.”
“Tch! Out of the six branches of martial arts — techniques of evasion, deception, fists, kicks, palms, and sabers — is there a single one you can perform from start to finish?”
“No.”
“The instructors must have told you — you can’t graduate unless you’ve mastered at least one technique completely.”
“Well, when I try, my chest starts pounding and my head gets foggy…”
“Even with the Seven Wounds Saber?”
“Yes.”
At that moment, Dan Bulwi’s patience snapped.
“You little bastard! That’s exactly why you need to cling to the Seven Wounds Saber! If your brain can’t handle it, drill your body until it remembers! How many times must I tell you?”
“It’s just that…”
“‘It’s just that’ what? You blockheaded brat, worse than a monkey! Raindrops falling from the eaves can bore a hole into stone. You know why? Because they keep at it without stopping! And you? You’ve poked at every one of the six arts for ten years! With a head as useless as yours! And now, with graduation right before you, you’re asking to be taught another mental technique? You damned freeloader! You just want an excuse to stay in the tomb, don’t you?”
“No, sir.”
“No? You parasite! You like it here, don’t you? Eating, sleeping, being clothed at our expense? You should be renamed — not Stone Monkey, but Freeloader Monkey.”
“Master, that’s not it. I thought if I calmed my mind, my head might clear up.”
At that, Dan Bulwi stopped his tirade and looked at him with new eyes.
There was sense in his words.
The Heart-Purifying Elixir Art was indeed a method for extreme mental calm.
“So you’re saying you want to steady your mind with that art?”
“Yes, yes, exactly.”
Not knowing when the instructor might explode again, Danyeop bowed low.
“Where exactly are you stuck?”
“It says: ‘When the heart is pure, one attains essence; when essence is emptied, one attains spirit. Spirit transforms into truth, and then one pursues the light.’ But I don’t understand what essence and spirit mean.”
“How admirable. I’ve taught this art here for three years, and you’re the first to ask. My master taught me that ‘essence’ refers to the primal vitality stored in the dantian, and ‘spirit’ is another word for qi.”
“Then when it says the heart must be clean…”
Before Danyeop could finish, Dan Bulwi suddenly replied,
“The heart resides in the breath. Breath is the energy accumulated since birth. When the heart, that is, the breath, disappears, essence is attained…”
There’s a saying: “One learns by teaching.”
In that moment, after ten years of secluded training, Dan Bulwi inadvertently revealed a hidden key to the art.
“Ah!”
An exclamation escaped Danyeop’s lips.
At that sound, Dan Bulwi jolted, then shooed him away in silence.
He didn’t dare speak further, afraid the insight he had just gained would slip away.
Sensing it, Danyeop quickly bowed and slipped out of the hall.
Leaving the hall, he sought a place to practice the art.
The tomb was vast.
Even with 180 trainees, they used barely ten percent of the place.
Discovered during a grave robbery, the tomb still had countless unexplored chambers.
Avoiding others, Danyeop ventured deep into an unclaimed area and sat cross-legged in a stone chamber.
He began practicing according to the formulas of the Heart-Purifying Elixir Art, inhaling and exhaling slowly.
Instead of chasing the vague phrase “purify the heart,” he focused on making his breath silent.
Unlike normal, unconscious breathing, he slowed it until the sound vanished. According to the formula, that meant his heart was now empty.
“Did I succeed?”
But the art was not so simple.
Though his ears heard nothing, the more he focused, the louder his breathing seemed inside.
It was as if threads of breath slid in and out of his nose.
If breath was the heart, then his heart was still moving in and out.
That meant failure, not even a beginning.
So he changed focus — not on his breath itself, but on not consciously breathing.
Most other trainees never pursued the art this deeply.
It was known to be unrelated to internal strength, merely mental training.
Amun valued only practical martial arts.
But for Danyeop — whose mind always clouded when he concentrated — this useless art of the heart was his only hope.
How much time had passed?
Just then, with his eyes half-closed, focused on the art, he heard someone shouting.
“Hey! What the hell are you doing here?”
Startled, Danyeop opened his eyes.
It was Dan Jae.
Ten years ago, when Dan Bulwi had been just a gatekeeper, he’d named three children: Dan Geum, Dan Jae, and Dan Yeop.
He’d chosen those names wishing for gold, wealth, and leaves as plentiful as trees. Because of that, the three were considered Dan Bulwi’s adopted sons.
“Uh… I was just practicing a mental art.”
“Practicing my ass. You’ve been gone all day! Big Brother and I searched everywhere.”
“All day?”
Danyeop blinked in confusion.
He could have sworn less than an hour had passed, but it was already a day?
“Yeah! The graduation exam is today, idiot. You disappearing caused a mess. Get moving!”
“Wha—today?”
“Yeah, even the first cohort’s been mobilized to find you. If anyone curses at you, just admit fault. Got it?”
“Yes.”
Running alongside him, Dan Jae asked offhandedly,
“You think you can pass the exam?”
Aside from mental and movement techniques, Amun’s six unique martial arts numbered nine in total.
Their arts, though considered third-rate in the martial world, weren’t that difficult.
After ten years, even an idiot should have mastered at least one or two.
But Danyeop, because of his weak constitution, hadn’t.
Since childhood, whenever he tried, his breath would grow ragged, his head dizzy.
“Well, um…”
Dan Jae cut him off briskly.
“If you’re not confident, try the Heaven and Earth Saber. It’s the easiest of the six. Just blend in and follow the others — you might scrape by.”
“Yes…”
In the end, Danyeop failed.
As Dan Jae suggested, he attempted the Heaven and Earth Saber, but the instructors kept their eyes on him.
The test was simple.
The chief instructor called out names: Mountain King Whip, Sky-Crushing Fist, White Willow Saber, Returning Heaven Hand, Heaven and Earth Saber, Crane-Pecking Twin Palms, Lightning Leg, Falling Flower Hand, Seven Wounds Saber.
Whenever a name was called, those who had mastered it stepped forward to perform.
The more arts one could demonstrate, the greater their recognition.
Even the hardest, White Willow Saber, had ten challengers. The easiest, Heaven and Earth Saber, was attempted by all first-years — seventy-two in total.
Normally, it was easy to blend in with the crowd, but Danyeop was different.
The “Stone Monkey” had a reputation. The instructors scrutinized him like hawks.
Naturally, by the middle of the routine, he lost track, and failed.
That day, seventy-one first-years departed the tomb with the sect leaders.
Summer passed. Winter came.
Danyeop still clung to the Heart-Purifying Elixir Art, but progress was slow.
Whenever he tried to practice real martial arts, his body refused to keep up, leaving him stagnant.
The second cohort of trainees never respected him.
“Stone Monkey” was the kindest nickname; many simply called him “Hey, you.”
One day, as he walked toward the dining hall, Go Jwa-ryeong of the second cohort blocked him.
“Hey, Stone Monkey. Heard you got beaten up by a third-cohort brat yesterday? And you think you can eat with us? Get lost, to the back.”
Danyeop flinched, then silently stepped aside.
Go Jwa-ryeong muttered,
“Pathetic.”
For a first-cohort trainee to be beaten by a third-cohort — it was disgraceful.
When Ha Yong-wol glanced at Danyeop with pity, Ryu Seolli nudged her elbow.
Unfortunately, Ma Eun-rok saw it.
His mood soured immediately.
That evening, after dinner, Danyeop was summoned by Ma Eun-rok.
“Hey, Stone Monkey.”
Danyeop raised his head, then lowered his eyes again.
It wasn’t fear of Eun-rok, the strongest of the second cohort.
He simply never met anyone’s eyes. His gaze always fixed on the ground, or their feet.
“Yeah.”
“Does it piss you off when a junior talks down to you?”
“No.”
“Good. At least you know your place. You know Yong-wol, right?”
“Uh, uh?”
Confused, Danyeop stammered. Ma Eun-rok kicked him in the shin.
“Answer straight, bastard. Do you know her or not?”
“Ow! I do.”
“Ever talked to her?”
“A few times.”
They had lived in the same place for nine years. Naturally, they’d exchanged words.
Eun-rok raised his chin proudly.
“You probably know, but my father is the sect leader of the Cha Gate. Ha Mae is the daughter of the Qi Gate’s master. When we graduate, I’ll marry Ha Mae.”
“Congratulations.”
“Yong-wol is my woman. Don’t even look at her. Got it?”
“Yeah.”
“You think you’ll graduate next year?”
“Don’t know.”
“You’ve been focusing on the Heaven and Earth Saber, right? Why don’t you know?”
“I can’t remember the first move.”
“You’re worse than a monkey. You’re hopeless.”
The Heaven and Earth Saber had three moves, each with nine variations.
Twenty-seven in total — anyone could master it in a few months.
“I know.”
“This is pathetic. Still, we’re both in Amun. Want my help?”
“How?”
A book dropped at Danyeop’s feet.
“It’s the Art of Dividing the Mind (분심공, 分心功). A secret from the Xiaoyao Sect. It teaches you to split your mind in two, doubling your progress. With this, even a halfwit like you could be worth one full man.”
“Double…?”
“That’s right. It’s not my claim — it’s written there. Whatever you learn, your achievement doubles.”
At once, Danyeop’s heart leapt.
If this was true, this was the art made for him.
“Thank you. I won’t forget this favor.”
“Forget favors — we’re brothers-in-arms. Just train hard. Next year, you should graduate too.”
“Yeah, I’ll give it my all.”
As Danyeop swore with a determined face, Ma Eun-rok clenched his teeth, suppressing the laughter that threatened to burst out.
