The guard's quarters were exactly as I remembered them: a damp, drafty barracks that smelled of stale sweat and cheap tobacco.
I sat on a thin straw mat, staring at my hands in the dim candlelight. They were shaking. Not from the cold, but from a hunger that felt like a hole in my soul. In my previous life, I had forgotten what it felt like to be human—to be limited by the needs of the flesh. As the Spear God, I could go months without food, sustained by the vast ocean of Qi in my dantian.
Now, a simple flight of stairs made my heart hammer against my ribs.
'I need to start now.'
I crossed my legs, closing my eyes. I didn't reach for the 'Nine Dragon Slaying Arts' or the 'Heavenly Void Piercing Scripture'. Those were techniques for masters whose meridians were already as wide as rivers. If I tried to circulate that much power now, my fragile veins would burst like overfilled balloons.
Instead, I focused on the [Dew-Drop Breath].
It was a foundational technique used by mountain hermits. It was slow, tedious, and yielded very little power. But it had one advantage: it was the most stable way to refine the impurities out of a malnourished body.
Hoo… Ha…
I drew in the cold night air. I guided the thin sliver of energy—hardly more than a thread—through my clogged meridians. Each movement felt like dragging a hot needle through sand.
Tsu-ut.
A foul-smelling, black liquid began to seep from my pores. This was the 'marrow-cleansing' process. In the martial world, people spent fortunes on Golden Elixirs to achieve this. I was doing it through sheer, agonizing willpower.
"Hey, new guy! Are you dead or something?"
The door slammed open. It was a guard named Hansik, a man with a face like a squashed melon and a temperament to match. He was one of the senior outer guards who enjoyed "educating" the recruits.
I didn't open my eyes. I kept my breath steady.
"Look at this brat. He thinks he's a monk," Hansik laughed, walking over and kicking my shin. "The Vice-Captain sent me to give you your gear. Get up."
I slowly opened my eyes. The sliver of energy I had gathered settled into my lower abdomen. It wasn't much, but the constant tremor in my hands had stopped.
"Thank you, Senior," I said, my voice rasping.
Hansik threw a bundle at my feet. It contained a gray cotton uniform, a pair of worn leather boots, and a standard-issue iron spear.
I picked up the spear. It was mass-produced, poorly balanced, and the tip was slightly blunt. To anyone else, it was a cheap tool. To me, it felt like a limb I had lost and finally regained.
"You're on the third watch," Hansik sneered. "Section four of the outer wall. It's the dark corner near the trash heaps. Try not to piss yourself if a cat jumps."
"I understand."
"And one more thing, 'Jin'. Don't get any ideas about the Inner Court. The Lady is going to the Plum Blossom Festival tomorrow. If any of you outer scum even look at her carriage, the Captain will have your eyes."
I bowed my head slightly. "I will keep my gaze on the floor."
Hansik grunted and left.
I looked at the iron spear. Section four. I knew that area. It was the furthest point from the Lady's pavilion, but it was also the blind spot where the Blood Cult's spies would first infiltrate two years from now.
I wouldn't wait two years. I would turn this 'dark corner' into a fortress tonight.
The night air was crisp.
The moon was a silver sliver hanging over the Baek Family Residence. Most of the guards were leaning against the wall, half-asleep or whispering about the local tavern.
I stood in Section Four. My back was straight, the spear held loosely at my side.
I wasn't just standing guard. I was practicing the [Still-Water Stance]. It was a method of training where one remains perfectly motionless while circulating internal energy to the soles of the feet, rooting oneself into the earth.
Crackle.
A dry leaf snapped near the bushes outside the wall.
Most guards would have ignored it, thinking it was a rabbit. But I didn't move a muscle. I expanded my senses, letting my spirit drift outward like a spiderweb.
One. Two. Three.
Three shadows were moving through the tall grass. Their breathing was suppressed, and their footsteps were light—professional thieves, or perhaps low-level assassins.
"Is the guard asleep?" a faint whisper floated on the wind.
"Yeah. It's just the new kid Go Chil was talking about. A beggar in a uniform. Just ignore him and climb the wall. The target is the jade statue in the secondary hall."
They didn't see me as a threat. Why would they? I looked like a statue, my eyes half-closed.
A grappling hook made of muffled cloth sailed over the wall, catching on the stone coping just three feet from me.
A shadow rose over the edge. He was masked in black, a dagger clenched between his teeth. He dropped silently onto the walkway, landing like a cat. He turned to signal his companions—and then he froze.
I was staring right at him.
"Good evening," I said softly.
The thief's eyes went wide. He reached for his dagger, but he was too slow.
In a world of masters, speed is about internal energy. In a world of mortals, speed is about distance and economy of motion.
Swish!
The butt of my spear didn't swing; it just slid forward.
Thwack!
It struck the thief squarely in the solar plexus. He didn't even have time to grunt before the air left his lungs, and his eyes rolled back in his head.
I caught his collar before he could fall and make a sound, laying him down gently on the stone.
"Hey, what's taking so—"
The second thief's head popped over the wall. He saw his partner unconscious and me standing over him.
"Shit! A trap—"
Before he could retreat, I lunged. I didn't use a spear technique. I simply gripped the shaft and used it like a lever, catching the underside of the thief's chin with the iron tip.
Crack.
His jaw shattered, and he tumbled backward off the wall, landing with a heavy thud in the grass below.
The third shadow outside realized the situation was FUBAR. He turned to run, but I had already picked up a loose stone from the walkway.
I threw it.
Thud.
The stone struck the back of his knee with the precision of a master archer. He collapsed with a yelp of pain.
I didn't jump off the wall to chase him. Instead, I took a deep breath and shouted with a voice that carried across the entire residence.
"INTRUDERS AT SECTION FOUR! ALARM!"
Lights began to flicker on in the barracks. The sounds of heavy boots echoed on the wooden walkways.
"What? What is it?" Captain Go Chil came running, his armor half-buckled, his sword drawn and trembling.
I pointed to the unconscious thief at my feet and the two groaning in the grass outside.
"Thieves, Captain. They tried to scale the wall."
Go Chil looked at the man on the floor, then at me. His face went through a kaleidoscope of emotions: confusion, suspicion, and finally, a grudging relief.
"You... you caught them? Alone?"
"They were clumsy, Captain. They tripped over their own hook."
Go Chil walked over and kicked the thief. "Clumsy? This is 'Iron-Finger' Li. He's been wanted by the city guard for six months! How the hell did a brat like you..."
He stopped, looking at my spear. There wasn't a drop of blood on it. I had used the blunt parts of the weapon with such precision that I hadn't even scratched the wood.
"Luck," I said, bowing my head. "I just poked where they were falling."
Go Chil grunted, but his eyes narrowed. He wasn't a genius, but he wasn't a fool either. "Whatever. You did your job. Hansik! Tie these rats up and call the magistrate! The rest of you, double the watch!"
As the guards swarmed the area, I stepped back into the shadows.
The commotion was loud, but my eyes were fixed on the Inner Court. High up on the balcony of the main pavilion, a lantern was lit.
A silhouette appeared against the paper screen.
It was her. Baek Seol-hwa.
She was looking toward the outer wall, wondering what the noise was about.
I gripped my spear and stood back in the [Still-Water Stance].
'Go back to sleep, My Lady,' I thought. 'It's just a few rats. They won't bother you again.'
I didn't need to meet her yet. I wasn't ready.
In the martial world, a guard is only as good as the blood he's willing to spill. Tonight was just the first drop.
By the time the festivals began, I would be more than just a guard. I would be the invisible wall that even the gods couldn't climb.
"Jin!" Go Chil called out, his voice a bit more respectful than before. "Tomorrow, you're not on the wall. You're coming with the main escort for the Festival. The Captain of the Inner Guard requested more 'capable' hands."
I bowed low, hiding the smile that tugged at the corners of my lips.
"I will do my best, Captain."
The slow burn had begun. In my past life, I was a god who failed his only devotee. In this life, I would be a lowly guard who conquered the world from the shadows of a carriage.