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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: The Internal Energy Ordeal
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"I'm no slouch of a master myself, but you lot are truly hopeless."
Pahwanggun let out his twentieth heavy sigh.
His body trembled.
Standing there with his hands behind his back and his head bowed felt like it was going to split his skull open.
His entire body was drenched in sweat.
Passing disciples nearby snickered, covering their mouths with their hands as they walked by.
"You're the first disciples in the history of this academy to start brawling among yourselves on the very first day of forming a squad. I daresay I'll acknowledge that much."
"...We're sorry."
His lips were so swollen they looked like pollack roe, making it hard to even speak properly.
Drip, drip. Sweat fell in drops.
After bowing his head for a full hour, it felt like his scalp was peeling off.
His eyelids were already puffy like steamed buns, and now with his head pressed to the ground, they seemed to swell even more in real time.
I glared at the other guy bowing his head beside me.
"Using dirty tricks like joint locks? Does winning that way even feel good?"
Moyong Ryu, trembling with his head bowed, shot back without missing a beat.
"I've never seen someone get outmaneuvered in hand-to-hand and then try to smash the opponent's head with a rock first thing. Does basic common sense even exist in that skull of yours?"
"You lowborn trash. Shut your mouths. My head's pounding."
Next to me, Jin Mujae was drenched in sweat, trembling as he bowed his head.
Pahwanggun's eyes rolled back in fury.
"Fine, you said it perfectly. Want to know who's the craziest of this bunch? It's you, you! Jin Mujae, you bastard!"
Pahwanggun brought his rolled-up Chunhwa sword down on Jin Mujae's head.
"I thought you were the one 'sane' member of this group, but turns out you're the craziest! Are you even a Taoist?!"
"I'm sorry."
"And why the hell did you jump into their fight and beat them both senseless?! At least those two make some sense—they're family. You're not even from the same house!"
Jin Mujae furrowed his brushstroke-perfect brows and replied.
"Those lowborn trash were making a racket. Lunchtime's approaching, and any delay in eating within an hour after physical training hampers my growth. Guys like that... I'll kill them!"
-Thud.
Pahwanggun dropped the Chunhwa sword to the ground and muttered.
"Gang Buryong, that son of a bitch. No wonder he accepted my request so readily. He dumped this squad of thunderbolt lunatics on me!"
"I'm sorry... I have nothing to say..."
I mumbled endlessly through my pollack-roe lips.
Beside him, the Haseo Physician, who had been peeling fruit, let out an exclamation.
"To hear Pahwanggun of all people lecturing on character. Master and disciples truly attract like magnets."
Pahwanggun glared at the Haseo Physician.
"And why are you here?"
"Did you expect me to stay away after hearing that for the first time in Cheonsubakryeonsa history, a squad started beating each other bloody right from formation? What kind of person would I be?"
Pahwanggun stared at the Haseo Physician for a long moment.
It was the kind of look that said, 'Should I just kill him?'
"All of you, at attention."
At Pahwanggun's low command, we all shot up like lightning.
"Wow, your faces are total mush."
That was the Haseo Physician's assessment.
"Jin Mujae's just a bit swollen, but Moyong Bi and Moyong Ryu's faces are a sight. Bi's lips especially look just like pollack roe."
The Haseo Physician approached us, inspecting the cuts and bruises on our faces and such.
While we received treatment, Pahwanggun lined us up and bellowed.
"I declare that this squad of ours is the absolute worst in Cheonsubakryeonsa history. Who would call you lot fellow disciples?!"
Pahwanggun pointed at each of us in turn, shouting.
"One's a rabid dog who loses control and tries to brain the enemy with a rock when his eyes roll back!"
I bowed my head.
"One's so flippant about everything that it's a wonder he hasn't been offed by his own family yet, spouting provocative nonsense—a total moral bankrupt!"
Moyong Ryu bowed his head.
"And one's a Taoist who walks around with 'kill' on his lips, beating up his squadmates over a late lunch—a thug!"
Jin Mujae bowed his head.
"It's utterly deplorable. If squads faced off in a group spar, you'd punch sideways at each other before the enemy from the get-go."
"..."
The image formed so vividly in my head it made me sick.
"So I've been thinking. Beyond the promotion exam, how to resolve this mess going forward."
That was Pahwanggun's monologue.
I felt uneasy about what would come after that lengthy speech.
And sure enough, Pahwanggun's next words were a shock.
"Special measures. Regarding the lodging you'll stay in after passing this promotion exam."
"Uh, we haven't even taken the promotion exam yet..."
Moyong Ryu cautiously raised his hand to object.
"If you fail even the Chunmu Hall promotion exam, I'll personally find you a grave, so no worries about flunking."
In this atmosphere, staying quiet was the wise choice.
"You all know you're normally assigned individual lodgings. But not you."
"Yes?"
"You'll bunk together, and I'll teach you what true teamwork really means."
Cheonsubakryeonsa was a warrior training academy run and managed by the Murim Alliance.
Moreover, the entrants were at minimum disciples from the Nine Great Sects and One Gang, local notables, or members of the Five Great Families, so the facilities were top-tier even by jianghu standards.
Private bedrooms were standard.
Announcing shared lodging for three was definitely off the beaten path.
"No way! Absolutely not!"
Moyong Ryu shouted, veins bulging in his neck. Pahwanggun's eyebrow twitched.
"No way? Got a convincing reason?"
"A convincing reason? You bet!"
Moyong Ryu flailed his hands in desperation.
"The Five Beauties of the Central Plains in this cohort? I'd welcome them with open arms. But sharing my room with stinking males like these? Kill me inst— Aak!"
Pahwanggun's kick sent Moyong Ryu sprawling.
Pahwanggun pounced and started stomping.
"As your master, how can I deny my disciple's wish?! How did you endure breathing the same air all this time out of boredom?"
"Aak! Aaaaak!"
"I'm Pahwanggun. The Pahwanggun. Think I look like a joke if I just scold you meekly?"
"Let me live—!"
Pahwanggun's mystical beating struck only pressure points, inflicting excruciating pain without damaging muscle or bone.
"I wondered why that moral bankrupt was holding out so long..."
The Haseo Physician covered his eyes with his palm.
After beating him soundly for a while, Pahwanggun wiped his forehead, looking refreshed as if his anger had finally subsided.
"Alright, Moyong Ryu here just whispered his full agreement with my proposal! As his master, I'm deeply moved."
Beside him writhed a dirt-covered lifeform.
The Haseo Physician clicked his tongue and treated the wriggling creature.
"Any other sage advice? My mind's as open as a kid's—speak freely if you've got complaints."
I formed a fist salute.
"Moyong Bi is in awe of Pahwanggun's profound wisdom."
"Wow, this selective rage-control disorder..."
I ignored Jin Mujae's mutter.
"Moyong Bi's fine. Jin Mujae?"
Jin Mujae formed a fist salute.
"As a Wudang Taoist, how could I refuse a training camp focused on martial advancement?"
"Wow, this filthy opportunistic thug-Taoist..."
Jin Mujae ignored my mutter as well.
Pahwanggun nodded in satisfaction.
"Good, now we're finally on the same page. I ragged on you, but I've confirmed your potential firsthand, so don't sweat the promotion exam coming up. No way you'll fail, right? Haha!"
Why did he deliver that warm encouragement while clenching his fist and shaking it?
"We'll live up to Master's expectations."
Including Moyong Ryu, now human again thanks to the Haseo Physician's treatment, the three of us formed fist salutes and bowed.
Just then, a proctor approached Pahwanggun.
"Here's the exam details to pass on to each squad leader."
The mood tensed instantly.
Pahwanggun alone remained nonchalant.
"Sheesh, no need to tense up like that."
Noticing the strained looks from me, Jin Mujae, and Moyong Ryu, he whistled and unfolded the paper.
"Wonder what this exam is. Swim upstream like last time? Peak dash? My disciples have nothing to worry about anyway."
Pahwanggun unfolded the paper.
His eyes moved.
"What."
His face hardened.
He looked at the paper again.
"What the hell is this."
He raised his head, looking at us—at me, specifically.
"Bi!"
"The promotion exam will commence. All Chunmu Hall promotion candidates, gather at your squad stations immediately."
A clear woman's voice echoed across the training ground.
Pahwanggun spoke urgently.
"That internal art I taught you before... you mastered it at least, right?! No, wait—that won't cut it anyway."
His voice was frantic, uncharacteristic of him.
I answered blankly.
"The One Wheel Three Seals Mind Method? Yeah, I learned it. But it's so basic there's not much to master..."
"Damn it, I've never faced odds like this before!"
"Huh?"
Unease crept in.
"All candidates, assemble without delay."
The proctor herded us like pigs.
Pahwanggun opened his mouth to shout something but was stopped by the proctor—that was the last I saw of him.
Countless prospective Chunmu Hall disciples had gathered before the squad stations.
A strange tension blanketed the area.
Here, some would advance, others would fail and be forever stuck in Chunmu Hall.
Cheonsubakryeonsa's four halls—spring, summer, autumn, winter—served as lifelong proof of a warrior's prowess in the orthodox sects even after graduation.
Higher halls meant access to advanced martial arts and perks, of course.
But most crucially, after six years at Cheonsubakryeonsa, your hall affiliation at graduation defined your status.
For jianghu warriors who lived and died by honor, it was everything—from personal pride to networks and life trajectory—like an indelible ID card.
Atop the platform where Gang Buryong always stood, a woman draped in blue silk robes spoke in a resonant voice.
"Welcome to all taking the Chunmu Hall promotion exam. I trust the past eight weeks of personalized guidance from your instructors have been a precious time of growth. This is the least we can offer disciples of Cheonsubakryeonsa."
Her voice carried inner power.
Soft and gentle, yet laced with a glass-scratching high pitch that vibrated bones and set nerves on edge.
"The Cheonsubakryeonsa leadership debated the Chunmu Hall promotion exam content extensively. But we converged on one unanimous decision. A high-level warrior needs many qualities, but at the foundation, isn't it 'internal energy' above all?"
'Oh no.'
My mind went blank.
She pulled documents from her sleeve and read each character deliberately.
"This exam concerns internal energy, the bedrock for any superior warrior. Those who meet the required internal energy quota within the time limit will promote to Hamu Hall."
Internal energy was my weakest point—virtually nonexistent.
And the one thing I hadn't prepared for.
To single that out?
The only vaguely useful internal method I'd learned was the One Wheel Three Seals Mind Method.
Even that was basic, focused more on bodily recovery than building qi.
The woman continued.
"The passing criterion is half a Jiazi—thirty years' worth total. Regardless of what you have now, achieve half a Jiazi, and you pass automatically."
Impossible.
My meager knowledge made the scale all too clear.
Half a Jiazi? Was this woman sane?
Unfazed by my turmoil, she smiled and pressed on.
"It's a high bar, but to fully digest Cheonsubakryeonsa's renowned support, it's the minimum qualification we've set. Please understand, disciples."
If my knowledge held, a Jiazi was sixty years of standard cultivation for an average warrior. Half was at least thirty.
Absurd.
And my current internal energy was practically zero.
"Also, like the entrance exam, this year's reinforced standards apply: if a disciple's total falls short of even half that—fifteen years' worth—they lack even Chunmu Hall qualifications and will receive an expulsion order. Give it your all."
Her crisp announcement rang across the training ground.
Only one thought came to mind as I heard it.
'I'm screwed.'