Awakening
"Now that I've almost finished merging modern martial arts with internal energy, what's left is... enlightenment? I'm no philosopher, so I don't really get why that's even necessary."
A typical martial artist in the Central Plains might have accepted that notion without question, but Yeon Hwi-tae was different—this was where his doubts began.
In the world of martial arts, the idea of "realms" of mastery and how each breakthrough leads to rapid growth was treated as a self-evident truth. And it was, in many cases. But to Yeon Hwi-tae, it was full of contradictions.
"This whole 'enlightenment' thing is kind of a joke, isn't it? If you could reach a higher level just by saying the right words, then scholars studying for the civil exams would be stronger than martial artists. No—actually, shouldn't I already be a top-tier expert by that logic?"
In his past life, he was famous as a fighter, but few knew he was also a voracious reader. He read anything and everything—technical manuals, classical literature, genre fiction. His ability to adapt so easily to the world of martial arts stemmed in large part from his frequent reading of wuxia novels.
Of course, the actual historical backdrop of this world was vastly different from what he knew, but the similarities were striking.
Among the many books he'd read were ones on philosophy, which gave him deep knowledge of both Eastern thinkers like Confucius and Laozi, and Western ones like Aristotle and Plato.
So how could someone who'd learned so much philosophy not achieve enlightenment?
"That doesn't make any sense. The more I think about it, the weirder it gets… What the hell even is enlightenment?"
He got lost in thought for a moment, but quickly shook it off and resumed training.
He didn't just focus on striking arts like boxing and kickboxing; he also practiced grappling techniques like wrestling and jiu-jitsu, adapting them into a form of martial arts suitable for this world.
And yet—
"Huff, huff... Why is it so hard to concentrate today?"
His thoughts wouldn't stop spiraling. His rapid growth had noticeably slowed, and perhaps he was finally starting to hit a wall without even realizing it.
"What is enlightenment, really? If they say each person's enlightenment is different, then doesn't that mean I also have my own unique path? But even so, the usual ways people 'achieve' enlightenment are totally arbitrary."
It's commonly said that right before breaking through to a new realm, one will hit a wall—and when that happens, you mustn't rush. The prevailing belief in the martial world is that the more impatient you are, the further enlightenment slips away.
But Yeon Hwi-tae found this idea contradictory too.
"If everyone's enlightenment is different, and the way they find it is different too, then how can 'Don't rush' be some universal truth?"
Come to think of it, the whole concept of enlightenment in martial arts was full of things he just couldn't wrap his head around.
Why would something like philosophical realization even be necessary in martial arts that were purely physical and combative?
Why, despite retaining all the philosophical knowledge he'd gained in his past life, had he never experienced enlightenment?
Is it really possible that some vague, half-baked statement could be the trigger for a breakthrough?
More than that—what even is enlightenment, fundamentally?
As one question led to another, his thoughts deepened. Still holding onto his modern worldview, he struggled to reconcile it with the beliefs and values accepted in the martial world.
"More than anything… is enlightenment even necessary? I've decided to live as a martial artist, but is clinging to a modern perspective going to help me—or hurt me? The memories of my past life are the root of who I am, but…"
The deeper his thoughts grew, the darker his expression became. Cold sweat formed on his brow, and his face began to pale. If someone had seen him in that moment, they might have panicked, thinking he'd fallen into Qi Deviation—a chaotic mental and physical breakdown caused by inner energy going haywire.
And then—
'Wh-What do I do?'
The one secretly watching this scene—he—was indeed in a troublesome situation, just as the thought implied.
He was Jang Myeong, a guard of the Secret Security Division, assigned to discreetly protect Yeon Hwi-tae by the order of Yeon Chae-ho, the head of Geumho Manor and Yeon Hwi-tae's father.
Chae-ho had noticed how his son's clothes were always torn whenever he returned from somewhere, so he had Jang Myeong quietly shadow and guard him. As a result, Jang Myeong came to know the shocking truth: the youngest master, once known for his intelligence and universally adored, was secretly training in strange martial arts all by himself.
Jang Myeong reported this to Yeon Chae-ho, saying it seemed the young master wanted to become a martial artist, but Chae-ho showed no significant reaction. Though confused by this indifference, Jang Myeong faithfully continued his role, keeping hidden and always observing the young master from the shadows.
But today, things had clearly gone awry.
"This definitely looks like he's falling into Qi Deviation. If this continues, he could end up suffering from a full-blown heart demon attack, and I can't just let that happen... But I can't step in directly to interfere, and I also can't leave to report it—what if something happens in the meantime?"
Jang Myeong was caught between a rock and a hard place, nervously watching the small master sitting cross-legged, drenched in cold sweat.
To be honest, he'd never truly understood the young master's actions from the beginning. If he wanted to learn martial arts, the clan had the means to acquire any top-tier manual available. Instead, the boy chose to train alone using strange, unheard-of techniques—how could that not be frustrating?
What's more, he even rolled on the ground and brawled like a back-alley thug, using awkward, unrefined movements. Such moves were unacceptable not only to orthodox sects, but even to unorthodox ones. Rolling on the ground to dodge was called naryeo tagon—a disgraceful act unbefitting of a true martial artist. And yet here he was, boldly using martial arts that looked like common street fighting.
If he had known it would come to this, he should've revealed himself and stopped it from the start. That regret now dug deep into Jang Myeong's heart.
At some point, Yeon Hwi-tae's expression, once twisted in strain and soaked in cold sweat, returned to normal. Instead, he now sat cross-legged with a calm, blank face, completely motionless—as if his entire body had turned to stone.
He had unknowingly entered a state of trance.
In that trance, he reverted to his former self—Kang Sang-hyuk from his past life—and stood surrounded by books he had once read, one time or another. These were imaginary books materialized through his inner world. They lay open and scattered across the floor.
Yeon Hwi-tae realized this was his mental landscape. Even though it wasn't real, the vividness of the scenery was chilling. He could feel wind on his arms and smell the distinctive scent of books—it stimulated all five senses.
"I didn't expect my 'ability' from my past life to work here too. No... it might have even evolved? Still, this level of clarity is kind of insane."
One of the reasons he had become a champion fighter in his past life was precisely because of this. Not quite a supernatural power, but certainly an exceptional gift:
Hyper-realistic imagination.
It might sound useless at first, but this secret ability had shone most during training.
**Shadow Boxing—**or more accurately, Shadow Fighting—was how he used it: placing himself in the shoes of his opponent to analyze and spar against them within his mind. With thorough research, he could mentally simulate matches as though they were real. It was, in essence, a cheat code for training—something he could invoke at will.
Of course, it had limits.
Unexpected variables or hidden traits in opponents couldn't be anticipated, and the mental strain was high, exhausting his stamina quickly. The less information he had, the less accurate and useful the simulation became.
Still, this past-life ability was now resurfacing in the form of a fully fleshed-out mental projection.
…Or at least, that's what he thought at first—until something began to feel off.
This was far more vivid than ever before, as if he had stepped into a real world that was indistinguishable from reality.
Suddenly, all the books on the shelf tumbled to the floor. Strangely, instead of scattering randomly, they aligned themselves neatly in rows.
And then, without anyone touching them, the books began flipping their pages by themselves. The speed was astonishing, and Yeon Hwi-tae stared in dazed wonder at the bizarre sight.
Then, at that moment—all the books stopped at once and began to glow brightly. The glowing books emitted rays of light that stretched out into the air, intertwining like strands of thread in midair. One of those beams of light shot forward—
—and pierced straight through Yeon Hwi-tae's forehead.
A surge of electricity and ecstasy exploded in his mind, followed by a wave of euphoric clarity.
And then, a thought naturally surfaced in his consciousness:
[Was the 'me' from my past life the real me? Or is the 'me' in this life the real one?]
[Whether one is a fighter or a martial artist, both ultimately pursue mu (武, martial skill) and tu (鬪, combat). So why argue over which method is right or wrong?]
[Enlightenment lies not in knowledge, but in wisdom. If it isn't attained through one's own means, then what meaning does it hold?]
These thoughts were Yeon Hwi-tae's—but not entirely his own. In other words, they were answers rooted deep in his subconscious, now breaking through the surface of his awareness, expanding his consciousness in the process. This kind of phenomenon is known by another name:
None other than "Enlightenment."
"What do I do now? I can't just sit around and wait like this forever. But still... huh? Wh-what the—!"
Just moments ago, the young master hadn't moved an inch—like he'd turned to stone—but in the brief instant Jang Myeong's focus had slipped, the boy was now rising to his feet. Seeing that, Jang Myeong let out a breath of relief.
"Whew… looks like nothing went seriously wrong. I'd better go straight to the manor and report this… huh? Why does it feel like he's walking in my direction?"
That couldn't be. Jang Myeong had reached a near-master level and had mastered high-level stealth techniques. There was no way the young master—who wasn't even ten yet—could have noticed him. That would be something so absurd even a passing dog would laugh at it.
And that's when it happened.
"Woof woof woof! Pant pant pant! Woof woof!"
He heard a stray dog barking in the distance.
Somehow, the sound of the barking felt like mocking laughter, scraping at his nerves.
"What the…? I just thought, 'Even a passing dog would laugh,' and now a dog is laughing? Nah, it must be in my head..."
The dog's barking, which seemed to laugh at him, grew increasingly annoying.
"Woof woof! Pant! Keh-hehehehek~!"
"Damn it… it's really killing my mood."
"Why are you so annoyed?"
"Well, it's because of the damn dog—its barking is loud enough to reach all the wa—huh?"
As he grumbled, a chill ran down Jang Myeong's spine.
In the brief moment his concentration slipped, the young master was already standing right in front of him.
"A passing dog laughing, my ass…"
It had actually happened.
"Ah, so you're the one secretly guarding me under Father's orders?"
"…Yes, that's correct."
Only after hearing that did Yeon Hwi-tae drop his suspicion, and Jang Myeong let out a long sigh of relief. Until then, the young master had only stared at him with an unreadable expression and suspicious eyes, sending a chill down Jang Myeong's spine.
"Whew… I guess that means he saw all my training."
More than that, Yeon Hwi-tae began to feel deeply uneasy about what might come next.
At the very least, he could predict how the martial world might perceive the modern martial arts he had been practicing.
"If Father finds out about this…"
On the way back home, his expression looked grim.