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Translator/Editor: Asakusa

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◈ A Wandering Warrior's Survival Guide ◈

Chapter 5: A Drop of Water Illuminates

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Cheon Hwi realized the drawbacks of his ability.

There were two major ones.

First, it was vulnerable to poison.

What if he took poison more than fifteen minutes before he died? Even if his ability did not return him to precisely fifteen minutes earlier as if measured with a ruler, it would still be a problem.

What if he accidentally consumed something whose poison would take effect a day later?

There would be no answer to that.

Second, against an enemy he could never defeat no matter how many times he died and returned, the same ordeal would simply repeat like Avici Hell.

There would surely be enemies he could not defeat, even if he died helplessly for a span nearing eternity.

For example, Yi Mu-gwang walking ahead of him now.

If Cheon Hwi died and returned hundreds, thousands of times, would he stand a chance?

After dying and returning thousands of times, it seemed both possible and impossible.

Cheon Hwi had never seen what a second-rate martial artist was capable of.

Still, according to Yi Mu-gwang:

“Among those who call themselves third-rate, there are no proper third-rate fighters. In that sense, you were born under a lucky star. You met me, and I’ll make you into a proper third-rate martial artist. The difference between late and early third-rate is as great as the difference between a first-rate expert and a Peak Master.”

It was similar to something his father had once said.

Perhaps because there were no peddlers around, Yi Mu-gwang was walking twice as fast.

For Cheon Hwi, who struggled up mountain paths, even hurrying along behind him was grueling.

Whenever he fell asleep exhausted from that rapid pace and woke again, Yi Mu-gwang would be walking just a little faster than the day before, without any mercy.

It was difficult to tell whether Cheon Hwi was simply exhausted or whether Yi Mu-gwang was truly walking faster.

“What kind of place is the Wanderer Market?”

“It’s in Jilin. A place where those who sell swords, those who sell their lives, and those who sell their names gather.”

“What are you going there to sell, Master?”

“Those who sell only one of the three know nothing. I sell all of them. That gets a better price.”

Yi Mu-gwang’s training continued day and night.

During the day, Cheon Hwi strengthened his legs by climbing up and down mountains.

At night, Yi Mu-gwang watched him swing his sword and offered occasional advice.

“Show me the martial art you’ve learned.”

The Three Powers Sword had three forms.

First Form, Horizontal Slash.

Second Form, Vertical Slash.

Third Form, Thrust.

Yi Mu-gwang corrected Cheon Hwi’s awkward stance and footwork, told him to extend his sword toward him, then said:

“Anyone who looks down on the Three Powers Sword knows nothing. A martial art is not good for everyone just because it is difficult to obtain, nor can you decide it is bad simply because it is easy to find.”

“I see.”

“It would not be an exaggeration to say that every sword art is derived from the Three Powers Sword. Learn it well, and it will help you when you study any martial art later. The martial arts of us unorthodox folk grow by swallowing up all sorts of things.”

“Why am I unorthodox?”

“Then do you think you’re orthodox?”

“Well... it’s not that, but...”

“Accept reality. If you want to grow stronger, you must start by admitting that you were not born into a martial household and raised systematically from childhood.”

“I’ll remember that.”

He cleaved downward with the force of Heaven. He cut upward with the force of Mount Tai rising from the earth, then thrust with the force of wind splitting the ground.

There was no place for wooden swords or practice swords when he trained in the Three Powers Sword.

“Come at me.”

Thus, their sudden sparring began.

It was wild training. During one spar, Yi Mu-gwang misjudged his strength and grazed Cheon Hwi’s cheek with his blade, then blinked as though startled himself.

That was the limit of a second-rate master teaching a third-rate student.

It would have been natural for Cheon Hwi to be startled, yet he had thrust out his sword before his master did.

“Strike with the resolve to kill. It won’t reach me anyway. Don’t be trapped by the forms of swordsmanship. You make your own paths of attack.”

It was truly practical training. Yi Mu-gwang acted as though Cheon Hwi first needed to learn how to protect himself by swinging a sword, before worrying about inner cultivation methods or anything else.

Several hours passed. The spar had begun at early evening and continued until starlight scattered in fine fragments across the river.

“Hah... hah...”

Even after a brutal round of sparring, Cheon Hwi was not allowed to simply collapse and sit.

Yi Mu-gwang made him sit cross-legged at once, without even giving him time for a sip of water.

It was Yi Mu-gwang’s personal philosophy that it was more efficient to sweat heavily first, expel as much turbid qi from the lungs as possible, and then begin circulating qi.

Following Yi Mu-gwang’s explanation, Cheon Hwi focused on driving out even the smallest trace of turbid qi and gathering pure energy.

‘Fast.’

Those without talent could not easily grasp the concept of accumulating qi. It meant accepting nature’s flow and gathering energy. This was especially true for those whose lower dantian had only recently formed.

Cheon Hwi was reaching the most basic stage needed to accept a cultivation method.

As though he had read Yi Mu-gwang’s thoughts, Cheon Hwi slowly exhaled, opened his eyes, and spoke.

“Master, is there a cultivation method that makes you stronger whenever you die?”

Yi Mu-gwang blinked down at the cheeky brat. What kind of nonsense was that?

“Aren’t all unorthodox martial arts like that?”

* * *

The city of Changchun in Jilin, where the Wanderer Market would be held, was now close at hand.

In the distance, the foothills of Changbai Mountain, the tallest range in the area, had begun to appear faintly.

“You’re starting to look like a proper third-rate wanderer.”

After spending about a month together, Cheon Hwi had begun to carry himself like a martial artist.

From Yi Mu-gwang’s perspective, it was astonishing that he had achieved this much in only a month.

“If you master the Three Powers Sword Art and the Three Powers Qi Art, no one will call you early third-rate anywhere you go.”

Following the formula Yi Mu-gwang had taught him for the Three Powers Qi Art, Cheon Hwi steadied his breathing.

“An inner cultivation method is meant to cleanse the essence, qi, and spirit that have accumulated and become tainted since birth, restoring them to a pure state. It is not merely about gathering internal energy in the dantian.”

Yi Mu-gwang continued speaking to Cheon Hwi, who had closed his eyes in concentration.

“Essence, qi, and spirit correspond to the principles of Heaven, Earth, and Human in the Three Powers Qi Art. The nature of one’s internal qi may differ according to the yin and yang and Five Elements one is born with. But this is not the time for you to learn such things. Nor could you discover them yet. For now, simply sense the energy drifting like the wind.”

For roughly fifteen seconds, he inhaled slowly and deeply, imagining that he was drawing breath toward the back of his body.

Even when he inhaled that slowly and deeply, only a small amount of pure energy reached his lower dantian.

This was the important point. He drew in and expelled that scant pure energy, then exhaled the turbid qi around his lower dantian with the remaining breath.

As he focused on breathing and sank into himself, his time with his master flashed rapidly through Cheon Hwi’s mind.

At that moment.

Plink.

It felt as though a tiny droplet had fallen within Cheon Hwi as he sat with his eyes closed, regulating his qi.

‘...What?!’

The place where that droplet fell and its ripple spread was unmistakably the location of his lower dantian.

‘What is this feeling?’

The strange sensation was unfamiliar, yet joyful.

Following the ripple, the lower dantian that he had only vaguely sensed as energy seemed to gradually take shape.

It was as if the darkness surrounding his lower dantian, where he had been unable to see anything, had grown slightly brighter with the droplet’s ripple.

After finishing his breathing exercise, Cheon Hwi slowly opened his eyes, looked up at his master, and asked:

“It felt like a water droplet fell.”

“...Oh. You felt it already?”

Yi Mu-gwang looked quite surprised.

Cheon Hwi had already reached the stage of a Breath Drop.

“Remember that sensation well. That is the feeling of inner power gathering in your innate true qi. We call it a Breath Drop.”

“A Breath Drop?”

“It means a droplet made by breathing.”

“A single droplet must have fallen into your lower dantian, and you must have been able to see a certain area around it. You probably could not judge its depth or breadth. We call that A Drop of Water Illuminates.”

A Drop of Water Illuminates. The process of dropping a refined Breath Drop onto the True Water of Origin, instinctively gauging and awakening to the limits of one’s inner power.

“A single droplet fell into your lower dantian, and you could see a certain area around it. You might not have been able to judge the depth or breadth. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes! As the ripples spread... it felt as if my field of view suddenly opened up.”

“That is it. Well done. You may have been born with natural insight.”

What he saw in his mind through the resonance in his lower dantian was this: in the center of that utterly dark dantian, a droplet had fallen, and there was a pool suggested by its ripples.

“That pool is your True Water of Origin. In other words, it is also called innate true qi. Inner power can basically be described as burning the innate true qi you were born with and spreading it through your entire body.”

So inner power was like boiling water, making steam, and using it to spin a generator turbine?

“Then can I use that pool?”

“Are you insane? Drawing upon the innate true qi that is your True Water of Origin means burning your life force.”

“The qi gathered in that vessel is the inner power you must learn and use. Though even if I told you to draw upon your innate true qi, it would likely be an impossible fantasy.”

Cheon Hwi gave a quiet “Oh,” and focused on Yi Mu-gwang’s next words.

“Everyone naturally draws upon their innate true qi as they age, even if they are not martial artists.”

“Master, how much innate true qi do I have?”

“No one knows. Just as you cannot tell how deep water is by looking only at the water gathered in a pit. More than that, even if it seems like nothing more than a small pool to you, someone standing before it might see it as a great ocean.”

Cheon Hwi concentrated on the explanation and organized what he understood.

In short, the bodies and inner power of martial artists were like vast caverns into which not a single ray of light entered.

They gradually refined pure energy from outside and brought it into that darkness.

Most of the inner power gained through breathing exercises, food, and nutrients remained no more than dew and moisture gathered on the ceiling of that cavern.

But through conscious cultivation, the dew and moisture collected and became a single droplet. Then, with a plink, it accumulated atop the innate true qi.

Tirelessly gathering one drop, then another, was the growth of inner power. Martial artists called this A Drop of Water Illuminates, meaning that a single drop of water brightened the darkness.

As cultivation continued, one came to understand one’s limits, depth, and breadth. Furthermore, by dropping those droplets from different places and in different ways, one could naturally gain knowledge of the flow of one’s internal acupoints.

“Once you have secured your view around that dark lower dantian, you boil the water. Handling internal qi to illuminate the acupoints. That entire process is called Ripple Pathfinding.”

Ripple Pathfinding. Ripples spreading outward to find the way.

“Rather than memorizing the Eight Extraordinary Vessels and the Twelve Primary Meridians from a book, you come to understand your own qi and blood instinctively through the sensation of ripples striking and reverberating.”

“You gather it, illuminate it, break through, then spread and control your internal qi through the paths you have opened.”

Handling internal qi meant boiling the water he had painstakingly gathered drop by drop, then spreading it throughout the body in the form of steam.

“You work so hard to gather it, only to use it up right away?”

“You brat. Look at the river. All that water is flowing somewhere, yet the next wave is already pushing in behind it. The point is to widen your pool and your waterways. Then the water will naturally fill up. Isn’t that so?”

Another question naturally arose.

“Then how do you boil the water?”

“You brat. If that were easy, everyone would be second-rate. In short, the methods for boiling water, releasing and spreading internal qi, handling that qi, and the broad guidance for opening acupoints are what an inner cultivation method contains.”

“I see.”

“That is why understanding the formula of the Three Powers Qi Art you are learning now is important. Heaven. Earth. Human. Understanding Heaven, Earth, and yourself means understanding what flows in from outside, forms the earth, and seeps into you. Only then can you understand where breath laden with moisture comes from, where it flows, and how it gathers.”

Excited to be explaining again after so long, Yi Mu-gwang added more.

“Peak Masters or those who wield demonic arts may do it not in the form of steam, but in the form of water itself, or through sinister methods such as mixing blood into the water. But that is not something you need to know now.”

“Training over and over, gathering inner power one drop at a time atop that innate true qi. That is the essence of inner power cultivation.”

Then Yi Mu-gwang held out his hand to Cheon Hwi.

“Come. If we walk diligently, we can eat a proper meal instead of dry rations for lunch tomorrow. We might find an inner cultivation manual there as well.”

Beyond the mountain foothills, the sky over Changchun, Jilin, which should have been pitch-black in the deep night, glowed murky red.

It was an eerie nightscape, as though a gigantic furnace were boiling over.

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