"You know, little brother, I've always found your dedication to scholarly pursuits... admirable."
Woon-hyeok poured tea with practiced elegance, his movements carrying the fluid grace of a master martial artist. They sat in his private courtyard, surrounded by carefully tended gardens that spoke of refined taste and considerable wealth.
"One must play to their strengths," Woon-seok replied, accepting the cup. The tea was expensive. Spirit Blossom leaves that enhanced qi circulation. A subtle message about the gap between their statuses.
"Indeed." Woon-hyeok settled back in his chair. "Though I wonder what strength you hope to find in Father's old manuscripts. Most of those techniques haven't been practiced in centuries."
Because your ancestors lacked the theoretical foundation to understand them properly.
"Sometimes old wisdom provides new insights," Woon-seok said. "Especially when viewed from a different perspective."
"Ah, perspective." Woon-hyeok's smile didn't reach his eyes. "Speaking of which, I couldn't help but notice your... composure during Father's ultimatum. Most people would be terrified."
Most people haven't died once already.
"Fear clouds judgment," Woon-seok replied. "And I need clarity above all else right now."
They sipped their tea in silence for a moment, each taking the other's measure. Finally, Woon-hyeok leaned forward.
"Let me be direct, seventh brother. You've changed. Three days ago, you were a frightened child hiding behind books. Today, you speak like someone with actual plans." His qi began to circulate, pressing against Woon-seok like a physical weight. "What happened during your unconsciousness?"
Perceptive. He'd make a decent spy in my old world.
"I had time to think," Woon-seok said, seemingly unaffected by the pressure. "About wasted potential. About squandered opportunities. About what it means to truly live."
"Philosophical." The pressure increased. "But philosophy won't help you reach Qi Condensation in a month. Nothing will, with your damaged meridians."
"Perhaps." Woon-seol set down his cup, meeting his brother's gaze directly. "Though I wonder. If I did somehow succeed, how would that affect your position as Father's heir?"
The question hung in the air like a blade. Woon-hyeok's expression didn't change, but his qi fluctuated slightly. A tell that Woon-seok filed away.
"An interesting hypothetical," Woon-hyeok said finally. "Though purely academic, of course."
"Of course."
He's already planning how to sabotage me. Good. Predictable enemies are easier to handle.
"Well," Woon-hyeok rose smoothly, "I should let you begin your studies. The Vault Keeper will be expecting you."
As his eldest brother departed, Woon-seok remained seated, apparently enjoying his tea. But his mind was racing through possibilities and calculations.
One month to advance two full cultivation realms. Impossible through normal methods. But magic and martial arts both manipulate life energy. They just approach it differently.
The question is: can I adapt magical theory to martial practice without destroying this weak body in the process?
An hour later, Woon-seok stood before the Scripture Vault's imposing doors. The Vault Keeper, an ancient man whose cultivation level was impossible to gauge, regarded him with rheumy but intelligent eyes.
"Young Master Woon-seok," the keeper said, his voice like rustling parchment. "I haven't seen you here in... ever, actually."
"Today marks several firsts for me, Keeper Jong."
The old man's eyebrows rose. "Indeed? Well, your father's orders were clear. Full access, but you may not remove any texts from the vault." He produced a jade token. "This will allow you entry at any hour."
The vault's interior was breathtaking. Thousands of scrolls and bound volumes arranged on shelves that stretched to the vaulted ceiling. The accumulated martial knowledge of a thousand years, representing power that could reshape the world.
Now, where to begin?
Woon-seok started with the fundamentals. Basic qi circulation techniques that formed the foundation of all Heavenly Demon Cult martial arts. As he read, he began mapping the parallels between magical energy manipulation and martial qi control.
Fascinating. They're using brute force where precision would be more effective. Like trying to perform surgery with a club.
Hours passed unnoticed as he absorbed information at a rate that would have seemed impossible. But Eldric's thousand years of experience had taught him how to rapidly analyze and synthesize new concepts.
By the time dawn light began filtering through the vault's high windows, he had identified seventeen specific techniques that might be adaptable to his purposes. More importantly, he had found references to something called the PRIMORDIAL MERIDIAN REFORMATION TECHNIQUE. A legendary method supposedly capable of restructuring a martial artist's entire internal energy system.
The technique was contained in the vault's deepest section, among texts marked as "Theoretical Only" or "Historically Significant." Scrolls that contained knowledge deemed too dangerous or impractical for actual use.
Perfect. The most powerful techniques are always the ones people think are impossible.
The PRIMORDIAL MERIDIAN REFORMATION TECHNIQUE scroll was bound in black silk and sealed with multiple warning talismans. According to the accompanying notes, every known attempt to practice the technique had resulted in the practitioner's death. Usually through explosive qi deviation that left nothing but scattered pieces.
Of course. They were approaching it as a martial technique. But what if it's actually a form of energy restructuring that requires magical principles to execute safely?
As he studied the technique's diagrams and theoretical framework, excitement began building in his chest. The method was essentially an attempt to completely rebuild a martial artist's meridian system from the ground up. Expanding capacity, improving efficiency, and removing structural flaws.
It's like reconstructing a mage's mana pathways. Dangerous, yes, but not impossible if you understand the underlying principles.
"Interesting reading, little brother?"
Woon-seok didn't turn around as Woon-jin's voice echoed through the vault. He had sensed his fourth brother's approach several minutes ago.
"Quite educational," he replied, carefully rolling up the scroll. "I'm learning that our ancestors were more innovative than I realized."
"Innovative." Woon-jin stepped closer, his cultivation pressing against the vault's protective formations. "Is that what you call suicidal techniques that killed everyone who tried them?"
He's been watching me. Reporting to someone, most likely.
"Some innovations require the right practitioner," Woon-seok said, finally turning around. "Tell me, brother. Do you really think I'll fail Father's ultimatum?"
"I think," Woon-jin said with a cold smile, "that your corpse will make an interesting addition to the family graveyard."
"How morbid. Though I suppose we'll know the answer soon enough."
As Woon-seok walked past his brother toward the vault's exit, Woon-jin called after him.
"Whatever you're planning, seventh brother, remember. Dead geniuses contribute nothing to the world."