Wudang Sacred Scriptures

Even as Master Hyang glared at him with eyes blazing, Kwak Yeon continued speaking calmly.

”Also, I request that Steward Myeong be replaced with another. I have repeatedly reported discrepancies in the supply and rations, requesting improvement, but the situation remains unresolved. I am certain that you, Senior Brother Hyang, were unaware of this, so I bring it to your attention now.”

”...Such a thing occurred?”

”If necessary, I can provide a separate inventory of all the goods we’ve received so far.”

”There’s no need to go that far.”

”Thank you. Then, I hope you descend the mountain carefully—the path is slippery.”

Master Hyang was seething with rage.

He had been thoroughly humiliated.

Kwak Yeon’s words had subtly embedded a thorn — implying that Master Hyang could be held responsible for the discrepancies in supplies.

’What a sly little fox!’

When he had first brought the boy here as a mere Daoist Attendant a year ago, Kwak Yeon had seemed so pitiable. A nobody. A nothing.

And now... the same boy was a First Disciple?

It was absurd. Like being possessed by a spirit.

How had this happened?

’But how does that child know such intricate details?’

The dire quality of the supplies provided to Three Spirits Palace was a secret known only to a select few—himself, Steward Myeong, and perhaps one or two others.

’Besides, hasn’t that boy been practically isolated atop Three Spirits Peak this entire time?’

It made no sense.

Naturally, Hyang couldn’t comprehend it.

But there was an explanation:

Kwak Yeon had learned everything through the laborers who worked the vegetable gardens.

The gardens were located near the creek where water was drawn, and Kwak Yeon’s reputation, earned at the School Archive and Spirit Martial Hall, had extended even there.

”If there’s anything you’re curious about, just ask us. We owe a debt to Old Master Jang—no need to feel burdened.”

The garden workers had eagerly ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) helped Kwak Yeon, gathering information for him through the workers of other halls.

Master Hyang, of course, knew none of this.

Still, he understood one thing clearly.

’The rumors were true. The incident at the School Archive involving Senior Brother Hyeonggong was caused by that brat. Clever, scheming little thing.’

Moreover, Kwak Yeon’s presence had changed.

’Has he begun cultivating Internal Energy Pressure?’

Otherwise, they wouldn’t be considering admitting him into the True Martial Hall.

’This isn’t good.’

The moment he descended from Three Spirits Peak, Master Hyang headed straight for the Great Elder’s Pavilion.

”Master, what shall we do?”

After hearing Hyang’s full report, Great Elder Yunhak Jin furrowed his brow.

”What do you mean, ’what shall we do’?”

Rebuked, Hyang immediately closed his mouth.

”The internal affairs of Three Spirits Palace are for the Palace Lord to manage. If she wishes it so, then so be it. What cause is there for such a fuss just because someone has become the First Disciple of the Immortal Line?”

Master Hyang inwardly nodded.

Within the Wudang Sect, the Three Spirits Palace and its hierarchy were largely ignored.

Outward respect was paid, but it was little more than a formality.

”Master, then... should we prevent him from attending True Martial Hall?”

”The Three Spirits Palace is still one of the Eight Palaces. If they wish to send a disciple to the True Martial Hall, we have no grounds to refuse. No—this is actually for the best.”

”Sir?”

”This will be the perfect opportunity to teach him a harsh lesson—that the path of martial cultivation is not so easily tread.”

”...”

”Let him experience firsthand the limits of the Immortal Line.”

****

Arriving at True Martial Hall, Kwak Yeon felt a rush of emotion.

The memories of the Mid-Autumn Sparring Tournament were still vivid.

More than anything, the thought of reuniting with Seok Jangsan and his old peers made his heart pound with excitement.

Haaah!

From beyond the courtyard wall, fierce shouts of exertion rang out—among them, surely, were the voices of his old comrades.

’How much stronger have they become?’

Just then, a steward guarding the entrance stepped forward to block his path.

”You must be Daoist Hyeonmu of Three Spirits Palace?”

”I am.”

”I’ve been waiting to guide you to the training grounds of the Shinryong Class. Please, follow me—we have a bit of a walk.”

Kwak Yeon was puzzled.

True Martial Hall was vast, containing numerous training halls.

Why were they taking him outside?

”Isn’t the Shinryong Class’s training ground inside True Martial Hall?”

”It was—up until last year. But starting this year, they abruptly moved the training to an external location. Even the stewards are struggling with the inconvenience.”

Kwak Yeon sensed something... unsettling.

A chill crawled down his spine.

It felt as if the shadow of the Great Elder was looming over him.

’No, surely not. It’s been a year. Someone like me wouldn’t even register in his mind anymore.’

His reasoning was sound.

He had no way of knowing he had once been caught in the subtle political tug-of-war within Wudang Sect.

The School Archive at the mountain’s base had long been a battleground of influence, its symbolism too potent to ignore.

It had been established under the edict of the Grand Master, meant to guide Wudang’s involvement—or non-involvement—in the affairs of the martial world.

For decades, Wudang had wrestled with whether to engage or abstain from worldly conflicts.

After the Grand Master withdrew into seclusion, the faction advocating internal focus grew stronger.

At such a delicate time, when Kwak Yeon had begun drawing attention at the School Archive, he had inevitably caught the eye—and ire—of Great Elder Yunhak Jin.

Unaware of any of this, Kwak Yeon had dismissed his worries as mere paranoia.

”Here we are.”

The steward stopped in front of a shrine located some distance away from True Martial Hall.

The signboard read: Purity Shrine.

From within the shrine walls, sounds of martial cries and rushing wind could already be heard.

”It seems training has begun. Well then, I’ll take my leave.”

As he bowed to depart, the steward whispered softly,

”Stay strong, Daoist Hyeonmu.”

The affection in the man’s eyes gave Kwak Yeon a surge of strength.

Passing through the open gates of the shrine, Kwak Yeon found about a dozen disciples training in perfect unison in the courtyard.

”Under Heaven and Earth, I stand alone!”

At the sharp cry of an instructor—wearing a white robe and a blue belt—the trainees thrust their fists forward in unison.

Whoosh!

The sound of slicing wind filled the courtyard.

To Kwak Yeon’s eyes, they didn’t look like novices at all—their energy felt strong and ferocious, like first-rate masters.

’Their foundation must already be solid.’

Of course it was.

Being selected as a disciple of True Martial Hall meant you were already a proven elite from one of the Eight Palaces.

While Kwak Yeon stood there, mesmerized by their movements, a commanding voice snapped at him.

”Hey, who are you?”

It was Cheongjin, the second-generation disciple currently overseeing the trainees, who had spotted Kwak Yeon standing by the entrance.

”I am Hyeonmu of Three Spirits Palace,” Kwak Yeon replied steadily, ”and starting today, I will be attending True Martial Hall.”

Cheongjin’s expression grew cold.

”I am Cheongjin of True Martial Hall,” he said curtly.

Though Kwak Yeon was younger, Cheongjin’s higher status prevented him from speaking down completely; he settled into a half-respectful tone.

”I had heard you would be joining us, but I didn’t think you would actually come. You will train with the Shinryong Class for two hours each day.”

”Understood,” Kwak Yeon replied.

”I am both the lead guide and instructor for the Shinryong Class. During training, I will speak to you informally. Do you have any objection?”

”Not at all. I prefer it that way.”

Kwak Yeon answered readily, eager to avoid unnecessary conflict.

”Good. Go rest over there in the corner until Master arrives.”

Even though Cheongjin immediately switched to speaking down to him, Kwak Yeon’s expression did not change.

He had already decided: here in True Martial Hall, he would act purely as a trainee disciple, without pride.

Because Cheongjin, the supervising instructor, had ordered him to stand aside, Kwak Yeon could only silently observe the training.

The Shinryong Class disciples were practicing Tai Chi techniques.

Each and every one of them was extraordinary.

They had all been handpicked from among the sect’s disciples—direct disciples taught by the masters of the Eight Palaces.

Mastery of the basic art of Tai Chi Boxing was already second nature to them.

”Dragon Soars from the Deep!”

As if to prove it, the disciples’ movements unfolded in perfect synchronization, not a single beat out of place.

”Return to Equilibrium!”

After two full hours, the Tai Chi training finally came to an end.

Throughout that time, Kwak Yeon had done nothing but stand quietly and watch.

Just then, Hyeonho, a second-generation master instructor of True Martial Hall, entered the courtyard.

”Master, you honor us with your presence,” Cheongjin greeted, bowing.

The training disciples followed in unison, bowing deeply.

”Greetings to the Lead Instructor.”

Hyeonho turned to Cheongjin and asked,

”How is the disciples’ progress in Tai Chi?”

”I have confirmed that their forms and sequences are complete,” Cheongjin answered.

Hyeonho nodded with clear satisfaction.

”As expected. They have earned their place in True Martial Hall.”

”But, Master,” Cheongjin said, stealing a glance toward Kwak Yeon, ”there is one problem.”

Hyeonho’s gaze shifted—and the moment he spotted Kwak Yeon, his face turned glacial.

”Come forward,” he commanded.

Kwak Yeon stepped forward, offering a respectful martial salute in the proper posture of a disciple.

”Kwak Yeon of Three Spirits Palace greets Lead Instructor Hyeonho.”

”Lead Instructor. Address me as Lead Instructor, not Senior Brother.”

”Understood, Lead Instructor.”

”The training at True Martial Hall is reserved for second-generation disciples. If you insist on clinging to your title as a first-generation disciple, you will not be allowed to participate. Therefore, within these halls, you will be referred to by your birth name, Kwak Yeon.”

”......”

”Why are you silent?”

There was no choice.

It was the Hall’s policy.

”...Understood.”

A bitter taste filled Kwak Yeon’s mouth.

The Palace Lord had gone to great lengths to secure his title of First Disciple, so he would not be ignored among the disciples of the Eight Palaces.

Now, that carefully given status was rendered meaningless.

”You do answer properly, at least,” Hyeonho said, giving Kwak Yeon a sharp glare before turning to the other disciples.

”Treat Kwak Yeon as an equal trainee among you.”

Such a command was unheard of in Wudang Sect, where hierarchy and seniority were absolute.

But because Three Spirits Palace belonged to the Immortal Line, it was possible.

No elder of Wudang truly cared about Three Spirits Palace, and the Hall’s policy had been decided accordingly.

’They want to humiliate me. They want to make me leave True Martial Hall of my own accord.’

They aimed to trample on the pride of the Immortal Line itself.

And Hyeonho’s pettiness did not end there.

”Starting tomorrow, we will train the Three Treasures Sword Form.

Each of you must learn the oral formulas and basic forms on your own beforehand.

True Martial Hall is a place where technique is perfected through training—not a place like Spirit Martial Hall below, where they spoon-feed you the basics.

That concludes today’s session.”

Kwak Yeon stood frozen.

Until now, he had believed that True Martial Hall would provide the oral formulas and forms during training, guiding the disciples to master them fully.

But now, he was being told to study them alone—and only then train.

It was clear: they had no intention of teaching him anything.

They expected him to give up.

Three Spirits Palace, part of the Immortal Line, had little knowledge of martial arts.

There was no one to teach him.

Kwak Yeon’s thoughts briefly turned to Daoist Cheongmu.

But Cheongmu, though he could use Internal Energy Pressure naturally, knew not a single formula or movement of martial arts.

His mind and memory had long since been damaged.

Kwak Yeon felt an overwhelming sense of despair.

At the same time, he sensed a deepening shadow gathering around him.

’They changed everything on purpose.’

From being assigned a training ground far from True Martial Hall, to altering the very structure of training itself—it could not be coincidence.

’Only one person could have decided all this at once...!’