Getting used to qi force—more precisely, getting used to willpower—took quite a long time.

The biggest reason, of course, is that willpower operates on a completely different paradigm from traditional martial arts.

Fundamentally, martial arts have always evolved toward greater efficiency—generating greater results with less strength, building internal energy faster, absorbing purer qi, exploiting gaps in perception to appear faster, and so on.

Even if it’s difficult to pull off in practice, the direction itself is one that anyone could understand after proper explanation.

But willpower is different. At a glance, it seems irrational, even impossible—yet it forces such irrationality.

Take qi force for example.

Qi is power without a physical form. Its core function is to enhance the essence of the object it’s infused into—like amplifying bodily strength, dramatically sharpening a sword’s edge, or generating dazzling afterimages to confuse the eye.

This is why external techniques matter as much as internal cultivation. The more qi is compressed, the less efficient it becomes. And if you try to forcefully gather it, at best it becomes qi flame, but no more.

However, willpower very calmly, blatantly, pushes past those limits.

It materializes internal energy, which should not have a physical form, and turns qi itself into a sword.

If internal energy is something that helps you do what was once impossible by enhancing your capability, willpower is the force that makes something fundamentally impossible become possible—by sheer imposition.

“It’s like… standing on a stool to reach something placed up high, versus just flying up into the air to grab it.”

“I’d been wondering if all that tree chopping meant you were planning a deforestation project… but looks like my son-in-law’s got his own plans.”

Tang Jinchun chuckled as he handed the papers he’d been scribbling on to the steward next to him.

The steward looked healthy in body but had a deathly pale face as he silently accepted the documents. It was a little pitiful.

Tang Jinchun, having offloaded all his work onto the steward for the time being, slowly nodded.

“Your metaphor is apt, but it could use a little clarification. willpower doesn’t make all impossibilities possible. It only becomes absolute when it aligns with what one most fervently desires.”

“I suspected as much.”

The unique aura a Flowering Stage martial artist emits comes from their inner landscape—and willpower springs from this.

Seo Mun-Hwarin’s terrifying destructive punches, for example, likely stem from her single-minded belief that even regrets blocking her path should be crushed for her to move forward.

The Black Lotus Lord tempered his inescapable spear with greed—an insatiable desire to possess everything without exception.

And in my previous life, Tang Sowol, bearing the image of the annihilated Tang Clan in her heart, immersed herself in solitude and became the most fearsome poison master in the clan’s history.

So yes, willpower lets you do the impossible—but only in alignment with its source.

It is a forced expression of what’s embedded in one’s inner landscape.

Even if your essence, qi, and mind harmonize into a perfect whole, you still remain you.

“You’re only saying that now because you’ve awakened your willpower, and you’ve become able to assert your inner landscape more clearly.”

“Yes, well… something like that.”

Since I reached Flowering Stage by becoming aware of my true inner landscape, the initial awakening wasn’t that hard.

But I didn’t yet understand how to forcibly manifest it into the world—so I couldn’t control my strength, and it took me too long to generate qi force.

But now I know. I understand how my sword moves to paint out my inner landscape.

“My sword now reaches places it never could before.”

“Congratulations. You’re now a proper Flowering Stage martial artist. Even I, once called a genius, didn’t reach it until after forty. The Tang Clan is truly blessed to have a son-in-law like you.”

Tang Jinchun beamed with pride, and I could feel the sincerity of his joy. It made me feel a little embarrassed.

In the past, while he had thanked me for helping, there was also a clear undertone of “You’re the thief stealing my daughter.”

But at some point, his attitude softened—now, he treats me almost like a son.

Which made me feel a bit guilty for what I was about to say next.

“Thank you, Father-in-law. But there’s something else I need to bring up.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Now that I’ve gotten used to this level of strength… I’d like to go away for a short while.”

Again???

Tang Jinchun didn’t look pleased. But it wasn’t quite the same concern as before—it felt more like disappointment.

He knew very well that I usually took Tang Sowol with me on such trips.

Still, someone else gave a far more dramatic reaction.

Clatter!

The steward, who had been working quietly, suddenly shot up from his seat.

The dullness in his eyes disappeared, and even his unkempt beard seemed to twitch with life.

It was like watching a man experience his final flash of vitality before death. Even Tang Jinchun flinched at the sheer force of it as the steward spoke in a solemn voice.

“W-where are you planning to go this time?”

“Jeomchang Sect. I’d like to observe the Four-Seal Sword Technique.”

“Jeomchang Sect…!”

The steward gasped—and then sat back down as if nothing had happened, politely nodding.

“Have a safe trip.”

His reaction was so transparent. It was obvious why he acted like that.

The current Jeomchang Sect is weak—both in terms of martial prowess and influence.

Put more bluntly, the steward likely figured that even if something went wrong there, it’d be trivial compared to my previous escapades.

Of course, the Jeomchang Sect wasn’t always like this.

Decades ago, they were nearly on par with the Nine Great Sects.

But their downfall came from geography—Jeomchang Sect is based in Mt. Jeomchang, located in Yunnan Province.

And Yunnan is home to Beast Palace.

Just as Beast Palace wiped out the Five Poisons Sect, they repeatedly attacked Jeomchang Sect in an effort to dominate the province.

Unable to withstand the pressure, Jeomchang eventually abandoned their mountain and relocated to the edge of Sichuan.

But Sichuan already had the Tang Clan.

They managed to settle down, but without a firm foundation, their influence shrank dramatically.

A weakened sect attracts fewer disciples. Unlike martial families, which can rise on the strength of a few heirs, sects rely on talented recruits.

With dwindling numbers, they grew weaker with each generation.

Two generations later, Jeomchang is now barely better than an average sect.

Of course, that doesn’t mean their martial arts are weak.

They may have failed to evolve their techniques due to lack of successors, but the Four-Seal Sword Technique is still considered a formidable ascension art.

Which explains why their sect was nearly wiped out when a prodigy with the Heavenly Killing Star trait started using it.

Despite the skill’s power, none of their other disciples had the talent or circumstances to wield it properly.

But suddenly, someone blessed with monstrous natural ability starts using it to wreak havoc—there’s no way they could stop him.

Thus, in my previous life, Jeomchang was annihilated, save for a few survivors.

Most of the sect’s secret manuals were lost in the chaos, and the survivors were too young to have even learned the basics—functionally, they were extinct.

But this time will be different.

Yes, they’ve weakened—but only compared to the top sects.

Objectively, Jeomchang is still a respectable martial sect. Their fame has diminished, but their name still carries weight.

Helping them would raise my own reputation, which means greater influence in the orthodox Murim.

And I’ll need that if I’m to form the righteous-evil alliance.

Though it’s also a bit personal… I want to meet the Heavenly Killing Star in person.

Even if I understand what lies behind his bloodlust now, I, too, am someone who handles massive killing intent.

Naturally, I’d be curious about him.

Honestly, I’m slightly hopeful that my presence might help him gain control.

If that kind of talent could be turned toward fighting the Heavenly Demon… nothing would be more reassuring.

Of course, this is just wishful thinking.

Even Master Gakjeong of Shaolin, who dedicated his entire life to researching the Heavenly Killing Star and even raised one as his disciple, only managed to discover a few patterns—never a solution.

Still, trying wouldn’t hurt.

And I haven’t forgotten Master Gakjeong’s heartfelt words, spoken before countless young monks. They weigh on me even now.

While I was silently nodding to myself, Tang Jinchun, after a moment’s thought, spoke again.

“I don’t think there’s any danger to you now—but I’m worried in a different sense.”

“Worried?”

“You said you’re going to observe the Four-Seal Sword Technique, didn’t you?”

“Yes.”

“You might be disappointed.”

“Pardon?”

“You know as well as I do that it’s a great martial art—but no one there today has truly mastered it. You probably won’t find any swordwork that meets your standards.”

“That’s fine. Just because someone’s weaker than me doesn’t mean I can’t learn something from them.”

“Hm. Well, seeing it for yourself is the fastest way. Do as you like.”

“To think you don’t recognize my pure love for the sword… I’m disappointed, Father-in-law.”

“I didn’t say you should be disappointed already.”

Tang Jinchun chuckled and patted my shoulder.

“Anyway, I don’t mind you going, but don’t take too long. Seems like you and Sowol can’t stand staying home for too long.”

“I’ll try.”

“That refusal to give a straight answer is so very like you. It’s honestly charming.”

Pat pat!

His hands smacked my shoulders with surprising force. Even with my newly transformed body, it hurt a little.

Only after beating me for a while did he finally stop. But he wasn’t done yet—his next words were more shocking than the shoulder-thumping.

“Oh, and I think it’s time we started preparing your wedding with Sowol.”

“Pardon??”

“Why are you so surprised? Until now, it was just an engagement because you were still young and focused on martial arts. But that’s no longer the case.”

“Well, yes… but I thought you’d drag it out for a few more years before granting permission.”

“I won’t say I never thought about doing that.”

He avoided my gaze, and as I stared him down, he coughed and continued.

“I’m only mentioning the wedding now. The actual ceremony will still be quite a while off. Maybe not years, but not soon.”

“I understand.”

After all the time I’ve spent in the Tang Clan, I know how things work.

“Picking an auspicious date, inviting guests, possibly rescheduling the event, and planning a grand ceremony befitting the Tang Clan name—none of that’s easy.”

“Exactly. So I’m only telling you in advance. Just keep it in mind.”

“Of course. Does Sowol know?”

“You’re the first I’ve told. Please inform her for me.”

“Understood.”

I bowed and left Tang Jinchun’s office.

***

“…A wedding?”

Tang Sowol froze mid-packing as I told her.

Her expression darkened just a little.

Why…?

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep