Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Because I'd stayed awake the entire night...

I entered the first training day with some fatigue.

The Dark Demon Well plaza was filled with martial artists who felt different from the previous day.

Apparently...

Everyone had taken their elixirs.

And practiced their newly learned martial arts.

Many stood in line yawning.

The sight almost made me laugh.

But...

This was still the Dark Demon Well.

No one cared about their condition.

The moment Jo Gyun and the Dark Demon Corps appeared...

Training began.

No ceremony.

No warning.

Just one sentence.

"Run."

"What?"

"How long?"

"Until I tell you to stop."

"Anyone caught by the lead group is eliminated."

PTSD struck immediately.

Run.

That word alone brought back horrible memories.

Endurance running.

A nightmare of a phrase.

And that was only the beginning.

The run turned into half a day of pure physical training.

Rather than martial arts...

It resembled basic conditioning for recruits.

At least...

I had more experience with this than I ever wanted.

Fine.

Physical suffering is my specialty.

I emptied my mind.

That was the only way.

According to long experience...

Thought itself became extra weight during endurance training.

The physical training continued past noon.

Everyone here had internal energy.

But after half a day of being tortured like this...

Even martial artists ran dry.

Maybe a Transcendent Realm master could endure it...

But no one here was at that level.

Even the strongest trainees were around First-Class.

By the time noon passed...

No one had much internal energy left.

The Dark Demon Corps had designed the drills specifically to drain it.

"Now you look properly prepared."

"Warm-up is over."

"Everyone grab a wooden sword."

"What?"

"You may question me only once."

"YES, SIR!"

After draining our internal energy...

We moved into ordinary sword training.

The basic Divine Cult sword art...

Waning Moon Sword.

We practiced it like military drill.

Some people insisted they already knew the technique.

The Dark Demon Corps showed no reaction.

The rest of the day ended with us cutting empty air.

That was the first training day.

Simple enough to make me wonder if this was really all.

But the true training began afterward.

The empty evening schedule gave the answer.

From sunset until late at night...

Trainees were expected to train individually.

Our daily routine became fixed.

Basic physical training every morning.

A different group training program each afternoon.

Personal martial arts practice at night.

Every night...

I returned to my cave chamber.

Practiced the Formless Heaven-Breaking Divine Art and Black Lightning Divine Steps.

Then woke and repeated everything like a machine.

"Swing harder!"

"The principle of Waning Moon Sword is simple."

"Overwhelm your enemy completely and leave a scar that lasts for the rest of their life!"

"Of course..."

"That rest of their life may only last another moment."

"Full Moon Fist must move with weight and directness!"

"It's superior to the cheap tricks you bastards normally use!"

"Fix your posture!"

"You!"

"Out!"

At least it wasn't boring.

The afternoon training changed constantly.

Sometimes...

Waning Moon Sword.

Sometimes...

Full Moon Fist.

Other days...

Sabers.

Spears.

"Why the hell am I learning Waning Moon Sword?"

"What about Tae-wol Saber?"

"I'm a swordsman!"

"A swordsman!"

"Exactly!"

"If they're only teaching basic arts..."

"Why does the Dark Demon Well even exist?"

As time passed...

Complaints spread.

It always happened.

Give people kindness long enough...

And they start thinking it's a right.

They acted as though they'd entered the Dark Demon Well because they were geniuses.

A few pills.

Some martial arts manuals.

Suddenly their egos grew.

Obviously...

This training had a reason.

At least...

Someone who had served in the military could see it.

Real combat turned chaotic.

Weapons got mixed.

Sometimes you lost your weapon.

Then what?

Pick up whatever weapon lay nearby.

If I were a swordsman and only found a saber...

Would I swing it like an idiot until someone killed me?

What if it was a spear?

This training prevented that.

You needed to be able to use an enemy's weapon.

Or a fallen ally's.

Modern militaries were the same.

Even specialists still learned to use standard rifles.

Sword.

Saber.

Spear.

Fist.

The trainees spent an entire month being introduced to multiple weapon types.

Then...

The program changed.

"From now on, you will train the Waning Moon Killing Formation."

"Here is the formation diagram."

"You have fifteen minutes."

"Memorize it."

"Every other weapon formation will be modified from this foundation."

"Remember it."

Formation training.

The Dark Demon Corps created teams centered around A-grade trainees.

We practiced the formation once.

Then immediately entered practical combat.

Our opponents...

Were active squad leaders from the Dark Demon Corps.

Each one was a fully matured Peak Realm martial artist.

"Attack us with the intent to kill."

"We'll respond only hard enough to keep you from dying."

The first day of mock combat...

Was basically getting beaten into the ground.

Using martial arts outside the formation was forbidden.

Actually...

It wasn't simply forbidden.

It was useless.

No matter how excellent your martial art...

If it didn't match the formation's sequence and timing...

It ruined everything.

For people who had failed at group living...

This was brutal.

WHAM! CRACK! THUD!

"Again!"

"After avoiding Heavenly Gate, you enter Three Wolves!"

"You idiots!"

"Damn it!"

"Let's hit him once!"

"Close Demon Gate and move toward Moon Fortress!"

"Hahahaha!"

"That's your brilliant adaptation?"

"Maybe in your next life!"

"Trash!"

"FUCK!"

"GOOOOO!"

WHAM! WHAM! WHAM!

"AAAAARGH!"

In the morning...

Our stamina and internal energy were drained.

In the afternoon...

Our bodies learned how to absorb beatings.

At least...

Eventually...

New training reduced the beating time.

Once formation training became familiar...

Various survival and endurance courses began.

The moment I saw them...

My vision nearly went dark.

Because these were literally military-style drills.

"This training is called Cliff-Hanging Traverse."

Grand name.

Simple content.

Cross a rope stretched between cliffs.

The bottom disappeared into darkness.

Why does a martial artist need rope training?

I'd done similar drills before.

There was one tiny difference.

Back then...

There weren't blades planted at the bottom.

And the drop wasn't this deep.

"Get on the rope, recruit!"

"Fine! Let's do it!"

Without internal energy...

I might've refused.

But now...

I had movement techniques instead of safety equipment.

And the first person always had the advantage.

If you watched someone fall before your turn...

You hesitated.

So I went early.

Using the Black Lightning Divine Steps to stabilize myself...

I crossed.

I survived.

Several people behind me didn't.

There were more endurance courses.

Cliff Wall Climbing.

Thousand-Zhang Descent.

Cold-Heaven Submersion.

Mountain-Moving Log Carry.

Every name sounded magnificent.

Reality?

Rock climbing.

Rappelling.

Underwater infiltration.

Carrying logs.

The similarity to modern military training became so absurd that I began wondering whether all military training had secretly originated from the Demonic Cult.

We also learned stealth.

Concealment.

Some poison knowledge.

Basic medicine.

Those were secondary.

Because I'd experienced many similar things before...

I handled them fairly well.

Whether I wanted to or not.

"Damn it..."

"There's nowhere on my body that doesn't hurt."

"Formation training beats us."

"Survival training beats us."

"Did we come here just to get beaten?"

"It's exactly the same in every era."

"At least we don't get beaten in the barracks..."

"I mean, cave chamber."

Ma Hapji laughed tiredly.

"Still alive, aren't we?"

"That's what comforts me these days."

"Did people in Brother Ma's group die too?"

"Several fell from cliffs."

"More were crippled on the wall-climbing course."

"Cold-Heaven Submersion also eliminated several."

"Similar here."

"I heard the other groups suffered too."

"Some attempted escape and were caught."

"Anyone helping them goes straight to the prison."

"So be careful."

"You never know."

"Haa."

"Exactly the same."

"Hm?"

"The Third Young Master had people like that too?"

"Ah."

"No."

"Just remembered something from long ago."

"Hahaha."

As Ma Hapji said...

The more training continued...

The more people disappeared.

Some died.

Some became disabled and were removed.

Some disobeyed orders.

Some deserted.

This was close enough to a real military that it felt ridiculous.

Three months passed.

Fewer than a hundred trainees remained.

From the outside...

Three months of suffering together should've created strong bonds.

But after training...

Everyone had to immediately return to their cave chamber.

There wasn't much time for friendship.

Short conversations in passing became the only entertainment.

Still...

Whenever there was entertainment...

There was also hardship.

Stamina.

Martial arts.

Formations.

Survival.

I endured everything.

My scores remained good.

Then...

Exactly three months after training began...

A new course appeared.

And this one...

Was my personal nightmare.

"Scripture...?"

"You want us to study scripture?"

"Correct."

"From now on, you will study the history and doctrine of the Divine Cult."

"You will memorize the Sacred Moon Scripture."

"You will be evaluated."

"This carries the same weight as every other part of Dark Demon Well training."

"So neglect nothing."

"..."

I had forgotten.

This wasn't merely an armed organization.

It was an armed organization obsessed with religion.

The important part wasn't simply that they carried weapons.

What truly held them together...

Was faith.

Doctrine gave them purpose.

Doctrine justified action.

That was also why outsiders called them the Demonic Cult.

Everything could be justified beneath doctrine.

So ideological training was extremely important.

The Dark Demon Well wasn't merely a martial arts training camp.

It corrected problematic believers...

And turned them into loyal warriors of the Divine Cult.

An elite warrior here meant two things.

Strong martial arts.

Strong faith.

A proper religious soldier.

If the Cult Leader or a religious authority declared something an enemy...

They needed to charge without hesitation.

If leaders declared even sparrows harmful...

True believers should exterminate every sparrow.

Whether the battle cry was...

Allahu Akbar!

Or...

Sacred Moon Manifests in Heaven, Radiance Fills the Sky!

Didn't matter.

What mattered was that they held weapons...

And were willing to die for what they believed.

Doctrine created those people.

And scripture exams hammered doctrine into their heads.

Perhaps because most trainees had been born into the faith...

They didn't seem to mind.

Some already knew the scripture by heart.

Others prayed before even opening it.

Maybe technically...

I should've been the most familiar.

I was the Cult Leader's son.

Unfortunately...

Since waking in this body...

I'd never properly studied the Sacred Moon Divine Cult's doctrine.

I was curious.

But I wasn't worried about being converted.

I'd learned something too deeply in my previous life.

As a soldier.

As a mercenary.

As a person.

God might exist.

But gods didn't do anything for you.

I'd seen that with my own eyes.

Lived through it with my body.

At least...

That was the kind of god I knew.

With that irreverent thought...

I opened the scripture.

My eyes began moving quickly across the text.