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Chapter 3
The Will of Heaven Became a Demon
Turning Misfortune into Fortune (1)
Having barely been granted a second life through what could only be called a miracle of the heavens, he could not afford to waste it in vain.
Sobaeok looked at the instructors with a resolve for revenge.
“If you’re someone who learns the martial arts of our Man Dok Sect, you should at least have that kind of spirit.”
At those defiant eyes, the senior instructor, Bi Dok-su Gyo Maeng-yong, instead showed a satisfied smile.
Rather than anger, he felt pleased at the transformation of the frail and unimpressive Number Thirty.
And there was something else.
“There are still two more stages of training left. Even if we don’t kill them ourselves, those who lack the fate to survive will die or be eliminated anyway.”
As Gyo Maeng-yong said, there was no reason to hit or kill a child who had barely passed the first training.
“Sun is setting soon. We end here for today.”
“Yes, Instructor!”
With the senior instructor’s command, the first day of training to enter the Man Dok Sect came to an end.
“Tomorrow, we begin the second training early in the morning… so don’t do anything foolish. Take your rations and go to sleep early.”
Gyo Maeng-yong smiled as he looked at Number Thirty—the one who had impressed him most among the survivors.
But contrary to his words, he was thinking something far more sinister.
‘Number Thirty… I wonder if you can survive tonight?’
Even if he survived the training, it was uncertain whether he could survive the night.
The instructors were not fools; they understood the subtle atmosphere among the children and their hierarchy.
Even if Number Thirty had survived the training, the real question was whether he could survive the night.
As Number One and Number Two looked at him with shifting eyes—
“Line up! Receive your meals, now!”
Mealtime for the next day began.
Out of thirty children, only around twenty remained.
Perhaps more had survived than expected.
But the food distributed was nothing more than boiled potatoes—and even that was insufficient.
“……”
Children in their growth years naturally felt dissatisfaction.
Even Number One and Number Two were glancing around, hungry.
“At the beginning of training, I already said this: all instructors will now return to their quarters. The goal of this training is survival in the harsh Southern Wilderness jungle. Do not do anything reckless at night and prepare properly for tomorrow. Understood?”
“Yes!”
The children answered in unison, clearly intimidated by Gyo Maeng-yong.
After the instructors left—
A grin spread across the faces of Number One, Number Two, and their group, who had been watching quietly.
Like foxes ruling the forest after the tiger leaves, the absence of the instructors meant the rise of Number One and Number Two.
“Hey, bring it over!”
As expected, the moment the instructors disappeared, Number One raised his voice.
Number Two, not wanting to be outdone, blocked Sobaeok’s path as he stared at his untouched boiled potato.
“What… what are you doing?”
As they approached, a memory he had briefly forgotten resurfaced.
—“You can’t even cross the swamp, can you?”
—“You’ll die before even making it halfway.”
—“So… be our bridge.”
At the beginning of the first training—crossing the swamp of the Southern Wilderness—these same boys had mercilessly pushed him into the water, nearly drowning him.
“Just taking the weakest one’s potatoes,” Number One sneered.
His smile was vile.
Beside him, Number Two acted as his eager subordinate.
‘How can children be this cruel…?’
Before he could process the thought—
Thud!
A fist struck him.
Number One, older and stronger than most children, struck again.
“What? Surviving the swamp made you think you’re something?”
“Do we have to beat you to make you listen?”
As Sobaeok resisted, the boys seemed almost pleased. They vented their frustrations from training on him.
Once they started, others followed. Violence spread like infection.
“Ugh! Ahhh!”
Too small and weak compared to them, Sobaeok couldn’t withstand it.
He was overwhelmed—first by Number One, then Number Two, then the rest.
He couldn’t even breathe properly.
“Haha… I want to kill you, but the rules say no.”
Number One smiled at the battered boy.
The rule was simple: no killing among trainees.
Not for their protection—but to ensure more bodies survived training.
“So we can’t kill you… just throw you into the forest.”
He suggested it casually.
He was truly wicked.
“Into the forest?”
Even Number Two hesitated.
The second rule was strict: no one was allowed to leave the camp area or go into the forest at night.
Because—
“There are poisonous insects and venomous creatures everywhere…”
The other children also hesitated.
“So what? Just say he wandered off in his sleep.”
“I-I still think that’s…”
“Don’t want to? Then should I throw YOU instead?!”
“Ah—no!”
Fear won.
“Fine! We’ll do it!”
Under pressure, they agreed.
“Let’s dump him and eat his potatoes.”
“Yeah.”
They dragged Sobaeok away.
“Ugh… ughhh…”
His body and mind already broken, he was carried into the dark forest.
“You should’ve just died in the swamp.”
Number One smiled cruelly.
Sobaeok, once a believer in human goodness, now leaned toward believing in human evil.
“See you if you survive,” Number Two waved mockingly.
Eventually, they threw him into the darkness and ran back.
“Ugh… ugh…”
Left alone again, he struggled to breathe.
But instead of despair, he saw opportunity.
‘I can’t break here.’
He was injured, bleeding, and the cold night could bring hypothermia.
In this jungle, blood meant attracting beasts.
He quickly wiped the blood from his nose and mouth and looked around.
Then he spotted something.
‘That is… Jaguncho (Purple Root Grass)!’
Fortunately, he possessed the knowledge of the greatest divine physician of his era—Gwak Jeong-won.
He quickly pulled out the herb known for stopping bleeding.
Normally it would be processed into medicine, but now there was no such luxury.
Crunch, crunch.
He chewed it raw.
Not to eat it—it couldn’t be digested anyway.
Instead—
‘If I chew it and apply it to the wound, it works.’
He crushed it and pressed it onto his injuries.
Soon, the bleeding slowed.
Next, he needed shelter.
Fortunately, the camp was nearby.
As long as he stayed near the forest edge, he wouldn’t encounter large beasts.
Most were already driven away by the sect.
But the real danger remained—
‘Poison insects and venomous creatures.’
There was a saying in the Southern Wilderness:
“There are more poisonous insects than people.”
Even the instructors struggled to eliminate them completely.
But there was a method.
‘Chunsaphyang (Thousand Bitter Fragrance).’
A plant whose scent lasts a thousand days. If crushed and applied, it repels insects and even some beasts.
It was rare in villages—but common here in the Southern Wilderness.
As he searched quietly in the darkness—
Sniff.
He froze.
A familiar, nostalgic scent filled the air.
A scent from his past life.
How could he not recognize it?
‘This sharp fragrance… it’s definitely…!!’
He was certain.
‘A spiritual herb… the scent of a divine medicine!’
