There is inertia in action.

What you do consistently becomes a habit, then part of your daily life… and ultimately, it becomes a direction unto itself.

That’s how inertia is formed.

Even if you try to stop, it’s not easy, and you end up doing things the way you always have without even realizing it.

That’s why martial artists of the Unorthodox Faction often can’t bring themselves to switch over to the Orthodox Faction, even when they grow tired of the Unorthodox Faction life.

They’ve lived that way all their lives and know no other path. In the end, they just keep following the push of their past selves.

“In that sense, I suppose I too had been buried under the killing intent and grudges I’d built up over time.”

“Hm? Ah, General’s move.”

“…Are you even listening to me?”

Tang Sowol had been the one curious about what I’d felt upon reaching the Flowering Stage, yet here she was, eyes fixed on the Janggi board.

As per our agreement, since we were still recovering, we decided to join our bedding together… and surprisingly, that’s all we did—literally just shared the bedding.

Well, this was the Tang Clan’s inner compound, and there were two other people who treated my room like their own backyard, so I wasn’t exactly expecting anything bold.

Still, I can’t say I wasn’t a little disappointed that we spent all our time chatting or playing board games like Janggi.

In any case, it was… something.

I voiced a bit of that disappointment toward Tang Sowol, who wasn’t even properly listening despite being the one who had asked the question first.

“Come on now. I meant that there must be something more. Something simpler and easier to understand. I’m pretty sure you even said it out loud.”

“How did you… wait, were you awake then?”

“Yep. I couldn’t even move my eyelids at the time, but I regained consciousness just before your breakthrough. Probably because the great formation was half-broken.”

According to what she explained, the entire Thousand Poison Gate had functioned like a giant mechanism for extracting poison from her body.

Buildings, martial artists—all part of a refined and intricate formation.

But since I crushed every martial artist I saw and even demolished the buildings, her consciousness must have returned by the time I reached the Poison King.

“So! Now you know exactly what I want to hear, don’t you?”

“So that was your goal from the start, not some fragment of enlightenment.”

“Of course it was. Just like you have your own path, I have mine. What good would it do me to pry into yours? Though our paths may differ slightly, we’re still headed in the same direction, so don’t take it the wrong way.”

“I wasn’t offended.”

“Hmm… You definitely looked offended though… ahem. Anyway, we keep getting sidetracked. Don’t think I’m going to let you off easy. Come on now, tell me!”

“Hoo…”

As I sighed softly, Tang Sowol lowered her voice playfully.

“If you tell me now, I might let you win this round.”

I looked down at the janggi board.

I’d been distracted while talking, and my pieces were a complete mess. Not because I’m bad at janggi, obviously.

After some hesitation, I finally spoke.

“It’s just that…”

“Just that??”

Her dark green eyes sparkled with mischief and anticipation. Seeing that gaze made me want to stubbornly refuse to say what she wanted to hear.

Of course, if I actually did that, she’d start flailing under the blanket or steal my pillow, demanding I give in more aggressively, so I held back.

“I just… wanted to protect. That’s all. Satisfied?”

“Hehe. Good. As promised, I’ll retreat this move.”

Tang Sowol reset her move on the janggi board and this time focused solely on the game.

“You’re going to regret that.”

“I hear that almost every day, you know.”

About ten moves later, I lost again.

This had already become one of our routines over the past five days.

***

Getting a little sick of Janggi (and definitely not because I’d never won), I started flipping through martial arts manuals I brought from the Ghost Shadow Thief’s secret archive.

They said not to use martial arts, but surely reading martial arts manuals is fine.

For the record, this wasn’t the original copy. I’d agreed to return that to the rightful owner with a modest compensation. What I was reading now was just a copy.

In principle, when you obtain martial arts from another clan or sect, you’re supposed to return them without copying… but who actually follows that to the letter?

Most people make copies or memorize everything. The other side likely knows this too, but as long as they get their manuals back and they don’t spread elsewhere, they’re usually content.

To be fair, most other sects probably also have a few martial arts from other factions stashed away.

The important part is not to flaunt it, but to hide it deep underground where no one can find it.

That’s also why some truly secret techniques can’t be learned from a manual alone.

They’ll intentionally make the language cryptic or structure it so you have to master several sub-techniques to understand the whole.

Some sects even teach half by oral transmission and half through the manual.

Anyway, the martial arts manuals from the Ghost Shadow Thief’s archive weren’t that high-level. They weren’t too strict.

Thanks to that, just reading through them gave me a rough idea of what they were about.

The techniques themselves were inefficient for direct use, but certain principles and directions were worth referencing.

Lying on my stomach on the blanket, flipping through page by page, I suddenly felt a soft pressure and a warm weight on my lower back.

I had a rough idea who it was, but I tilted my head back to check.

Sure enough, Tang Sowol was lightly perched on top of me.

With one leg elegantly crossed, she was sipping regular tea—not her usual poison tea.

“Would you like a cup too, Cheon Hwi-da?”

“I’m good.”

I shook my head at her clear intention not to get up, then went back to reading.

The martial art focused on deflecting the enemy’s attacks and using their force for a counterstrike.

It emphasized the mysteries of softness and explosiveness… but perhaps because it came from the Ghost Shadow Thief’s archive, it was a bit niche.

The prerequisites were too demanding. You had to be proficient in both softness and explosiveness, and also have achieved a high level in external techniques to endure the impact and focus it into a single point.

To top it off, it was a spear art.

Spear techniques weren’t non-existent, but they were certainly rare.

And the reason was simple: for a long time, spears and bows weren’t permitted weapons for martial artists.

The current imperial court is friendly toward Murim, and Murim is loyal in return… but in the past, there was considerable conflict.

Forget inviolability—back then, martial arts were banned for all sorts of reasons, unless they were morally questionable arts, which weren’t prohibited.

Weapons like bows and spears were often banned.

The imperial court of the time likely understood the importance of monopolizing martial power.

To ensure practical weapons were reserved for the military, they banned them or even confiscated them.

Not that martial artists would simply give up the techniques they had mastered.

Some families were wiped out for resisting, but most adapted their techniques to the sword, since there were too many sword users for it to be banned.

One example is the Four Sun Sword Technique.

Originally created to match the legendary story of shooting down nine suns with a bow, it had no reason to be used with a sword.

But it was adapted. Only the mnemonic verses remain, now suited for swordplay.

In that sense, this spear art had a certain charm that set it apart from the current martial arts system.

“Cheon Hwi-da. Your internal energy is starting to stir.”

“…Ah.”

Snapped out of my thoughts by Tang Sowol’s voice, I quickly closed the manual.

“Was it really that impressive of a martial art?”

“It was interesting, but not that great… Probably just my body not fully used to the Rebirth yet.”

They said Rebirth happened when your will fused with your martial arts and body.

In other words, it’s the unity of mind, energy, and body—jing, qi, and shen.

So now, even the slightest stray thought could cause my energy to stir involuntarily.

Normally, that kind of responsiveness would be a good thing—but with my body still recovering and so many things left uncertain, it was more inconvenient than helpful.

Probably just a matter of needing time to adjust.

The fastest way to adapt to a new realm would be through intense training…

But since that’s not possible right now, it’s frustrating.

As I let out another sigh, Tang Sowol, as if to comfort me, set her teacup down and lay herself on top of me.

She stacked her body on mine as I lay face down, and I flinched at the unexpected contact as our positions shifted.

Whether she noticed or was pretending not to, she pressed her chin against the crown of my head and spoke softly.

“Be careful. It’s clearly not an ordinary Rebirth, after all.”

“True enough.”

We had been resting this whole time, but it wasn’t just idle lounging.

Just like I sometimes unconsciously stirred my internal energy, Tang Sowol sometimes released poison without meaning to.

And strangely, even when hit directly by that poison at close range, I felt no ill effects.

It wasn’t a mild poison, either—it was quite potent.

Most likely, when I underwent Rebirth, her poison was also absorbed and incorporated into my body’s reconstruction…

I decided to test that theory once I fully recovered. For now, it was enough to know I had developed strong poison resistance.

“Haa…”

I sighed again, from sheer frustration. If only all life’s frustrations felt as warm and heavy as the one on my back.

Tang Sowol let out a small laugh at my sigh and gently slid the martial arts manual aside.

“Even if it’s just reading, maybe keeping it close is what’s stirring your qi. Just hold off for a few more days.”

“It’s not that simple. I’ve been wielding a sword all my life, and now they’re telling me not even to think about it.”

“You’re not even twenty yet, Cheon Hwi-da. Talking like an old veteran… Did you forget you’re still only nineteen after this winter?”

“I forget my age sometimes, but I clearly remember that you’ll be turning twenty-four soon.”

“Fufu, it’s not a big deal, but it makes me happy that you remember that kind of thing. I’ll give you a compliment.”

“…?”

For a moment, she fluttered atop me in delight, then suddenly shifted to another topic like she’d remembered something.

“Ah, speaking of manuals, Cheon Hwi-da.”

“What now?”

“Are you sure it was okay to give that Lotus Token to Lady Sama?”

“Sama Yuryeon is someone who never breaks a promise, but precisely because of that, she doesn’t make promises easily. If she accepted it, it means the compensation was sufficient.”

“No, I didn’t mean that it was a waste. I’m talking about whether it was okay to give it away at all. Wasn’t it a gift from the Black Lotus Sect Master, asking you to visit sometime? Was it alright to hand it over to someone else?”

“…Ah.”

I’d completely forgotten.

The Black Lotus Sect Master was a classic Unorthodox Faction martial artist—greedy and narrow-minded. She’d definitely hold a grudge.

“I guess I’d better send a letter soon, saying I’ll visit.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, trying to fill my mind not with martial arts, but with Tang Sowol instead.

***

A few days later, a letter arrived from the Black Lotus Sect.

“…What the hell…?”

In short, it said the Black Lotus Sect Master had taken over the entire Sama Clan, using a mix of force and a political marriage arranged with Sama Yuryeon.

“…What the hell is this…?”

How many days has it even been?

And this definitely didn’t happen in my previous life…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep