If Yeong-jeon was trying to die, this situation would be most favorable to him.

However, dying was the least he wanted to happen to himself.

'Fuck! I'm already tired!'

As he fell, Yeong-jeon's mind scrambled in thought. If he stayed idle, his head would be crushed. It was not helping that his mind was struggling to even come up with an idea.

"Fuck it!"

He cursed. If it was his old body, this height would not even cause the slimmest pain on him. Perhaps, if he had taken time to recover and then climbed this mountain, he would not have fallen.

There's no use in regretting, he was standing face-to-face with death itself.

Instinctively, he bit his lip and twisted his whole body vertically, now, he was facing the mountain's surface. He had reduced the injury, if he fell with his feet ready to face the impact, he would only be...

Paraplegic?

"Like hell I want that!"

He pulled his hands back and tensed his fingertips. He was clenching his jaw, heart racing. Hastily, the tips of his fingers glowed blue. And without a second thought, he plunged his fingers into the mountain's surface.

The force of the impact sent a jolt of pain through his arms, but he gritted his teeth and held on. The blue glow around his fingers crackled as his qi surged, stabilizing his grip on the mountainside. Dust and small pebbles rained down as he clung to the rocky surface, his body shaking from the effort.

His fall was slowing down but the heat that accumulated in his fingers didn't calm. He felt like his fingertips were burning in fire, but, he had to. And so, he shut his jaw tight.

The searing pain in Yeong-jeon's fingers intensified as they dug into the mountain's surface, his qi burning through his reserves to keep him from plummeting to his death. His body screamed for relief, but he forced his mind to focus.

'Hold on... just hold on.'

His grip faltered slightly as the heat surged, but he managed to stop his descent, hanging precariously from the mountainside. Every muscle in his body was taut, trembling from the strain.

But he was alive.

Panting heavily, Yeong-jeon glanced downward at the sharp rocks far below. The distance between him and the ground was enough to remind him that any mistake could be fatal. Yet he wasn't about to die—not today.

'I have to conserve my qi... I might slip if I ran out of qi.'

Taking a deep breath, he narrowed his output of qi on his fingers, now, not covering the whole fingertip in a blue glow, but only the fingers' surface. A risky move. Since his output of qi was slim, he had to concentrate sharply on it.

"The mountain leading to this sect was far easier than this!"

Yeong-jeon was true. The Thunderous Sky Sect had many mountains but none were comparable to this. Height-wise, this mountain might not be the highest. But the ledges grew smoother and fewer as it went up, almost like it was smoothened on purpose.

Forcing his body to move, Yeong-jeon pulled himself upward. The ledges were scarce, but he gripped them one by one, his arms trembling with each pull. The pain was unbearable, but it was better than losing his life.

"My body is as weak as a random stick! Out of all bodies to reincarnate, I happen to be in a beggar's body?!"

***

"Yeong-jeon, what do you think about how martial arts is created?"

At his father's random question, Yeong-jeon can only grab his chin. However, he was not able to come up with an answer, so he pretended to think, waiting until his father answered his own question.

Instead of abiding by his son's prediction, he asked.

"So, what's your answer?"

'Ack!'

Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

Yeong-jeon felt that a nail had struck him. A sudden blow from the gut made him snap out of his gaze. Instinctively, he spoke the only answer he could create at that time.

"Probably because a handful of eccentric men chose to separate themselves from the norm. They probably think that honing their body in the mountains makes them higher than normal people."

A small chuckle came out of his father's mouth. That was an answer he thought his son would say. But he had another answer in mind.

"Eccentric men, eh? I suppose you're not far from it."

"There's another answer?"

Yeong-jeon's father nodded softly and spoke as he observed the clouds in the sky.

"I assume that it was the continuous failure of our ancestors."

"Uh?"

"Failure?"

Yeong-jeon furrowed his brow. His father's words didn't make sense at first. Martial arts, as he understood it, was a testament to strength, discipline, and perfection. How could something as powerful as the techniques passed down through generations be born out of failure?

His father continued his voice calm but carrying the weight of wisdom.

"Yes, failure. Every martial artist who seeks to perfect their art is chasing something elusive. They fall, they break, they lose. But through each failure, they learn. Martial arts wasn't created because someone decided to be perfect. It was born from countless mistakes, from the desire to overcome what once seemed impossible."

Yeong-jeon nodded. Every word his father spoke was clear and he understood it. Each word was like a clean, smooth stream that continuously flowed without end.

"Just like how steel needed to be folded several times to create the sharpest blade, failure will be a turning point in everyone's journey. Will you break and be cast away? Or, will you be a fine blade?"

***

Yeong-jeon's breath came in ragged gasps as he pulled himself higher, his fingers trembling against the smooth rock. His father's words echoed in his mind, now carrying a weight he never truly understood before. In his previous life, as the Reverend Thunder of Chengdu, failure had been an abstract concept—a lesson for others, not for him. He had lived a life of strength and power, where defeat was a rarity.

But now, in this weak, frail body, failure was his constant companion.

Every inch he climbed was a battle. His qi reserves were dangerously low, and his body was barely holding together. But the thought of giving up was unbearable. He hasn't come this far just to let go now. He had seen death and felt it gnawing at his heels, but he wasn't ready to give in.

"Just like a blade..." he whispered to himself, remembering his father's analogy. Each failure, each hardship, folded him, refined him. He could feel it now—the clarity that comes with struggle, the growth that follows pain. If he survived this, he would be stronger than before. The failures would become part of his edge, sharpening him into something new.

'Father, I will become the finest blade. No matter how many times I needed to be folded.'

With this, the thunder that had vanished would soon strike the mountains once again.

However, there was one problem... He forgot where the cave was. Because he didn't know, he randomly picked a side and then started climbing it.

What if the cave was the opposite of the side he was climbing?

Yeong-jeon would lose it. And he knew that himself. Well, it would be a waste of time if he went to the ground and tried to remember where the cave was.

He let out a frustrated groan as he clung to the mountainside, his grip loosening slightly. No amount of pondering would change the fact that he didn't know for sure. He had gambled on this side of the mountain, and it was too late to turn back now.

"Fine. If this isn't the right side, then I'll just climb the whole damn mountain until I find it."

As he prepared to grab onto another ledge, his eyes went wide. There was nothing to grab onto; rather, it was nothing but a smooth stone.

"Hey, hey! What the hell is this now?!"

Crack!

The rock that he was using to place his foot on crumbled under his weight. And slowly, he lost balance as the rock slowly slipped out of the mountain's surface.

Instinct kicked in, and he desperately slammed his other hand into the mountainside. His fingers burned as his qi crackled around them, but the surface was too smooth to hold. His grip was slipping fast, and his mind screamed in panic.

Crack!

The rock beneath his foot shattered completely, and Yeong-jeon's body jolted downward. His other hand barely clung on, the weight of his body pulling it down.

For a brief moment, he dangled there, hanging by a single arm, his body swaying slightly as loose pebbles fell below. The ground far beneath him seemed to taunt him.

With a sharp exhale, he swung his other arm up, fingers glowing blue again as he stabbed them into the rock face. Pain shot up his arms, but he held on. He had to.

"I'm doing this for all of you! Y'all better be thankful when I come back!"

He shouted at the ground below him. Well... Nobody can hear him up there at least.

His muscles screamed in protest, his qi reserves were dangerously low, and the smooth surface left him with almost nothing to grip.

-Will you break and be cast away? Or will you become a fine blade?

"I will never break! Never!"

Now, on the smooth mountainside, he channeled his qi on his feet and his fingers. It was no longer like before when he was conserving his energy; he had to use all of his strength, or he'd die.

Thud!

He slammed his palm on the surface and used his feet to push him a little bit. His eyes narrowed at the peak, and he clenched his jaw.

"Who celebrates birthdays in a mountain?!"

-Well... You, of course.

"I know!"

Yeong-jeon's fingers dug into the mountain's smooth surface, sparking with blue energy as he pulled himself higher, inch by inch. The cave might have been on the opposite side, but it didn't matter anymore. He was going to reach the top, one way or another.

"I can see it!"

A thin smile crept onto his face as he focused on the peak, now barely visible above him.

-Don't get hasty now, or you'll fall.

"Don't say it like that!"

He kept the same pace; he neither slowed down nor fastened his climbing. Too fast and you'll lose control. Too slow and you'll lose your qi.

Yeong-jeon's body screamed with exhaustion, his arms trembling as he continued to scale the mountain. His qi flickered, nearly drained to the last drop. But the peak was so close now, he could almost taste the cold mountain air. The smooth surface beneath his fingers seemed endless, but he was no longer concerned with the cave's location.

"Just a little more," he muttered under his breath. His vision was blurring, but he forced his eyes to focus. His fingertips dug into the surface again, the last remnants of his qi surging through him.

He could see the peak clearer now. It wasn't far at all, just a few more feet. But each movement felt like dragging his body through molten iron. The pain in his limbs was unbearable, but he had learned that pain was nothing compared to defeat.

With one final, agonizing pull, Yeong-jeon hoisted himself over the edge of the mountain, collapsing onto the cold, solid ground. He lay there, panting, staring up at the vast sky above.

He had made it.

The wind swept over the peak, cool and refreshing, a stark contrast to the burning pain coursing through his body. For a moment, he just lay there, his chest heaving, feeling the sharp edges of exhaustion pulling at him.

"Finally. It felt like my limbs were going to tear off."

Absurd.

That was the word he used to describe his situation. A child climbing a mountain for some pills and almost falling to his death? It was so absurd that it made him chuckle.

Soon, the chuckle turned into a laugh, a laugh that echoed throughout the heavens.

"I would never do that again, ever."

-Haha... Don't lose your fire now, mountain goat.

"Please. Stop that."

-Hehe. Our roles now have reversed.

"Yeah, right."

The clarity that came with the climb lingered in his mind. As absurd as it was, he'd grown stronger—maybe not physically, but mentally.

He stood up, his legs trembling, but he refused to buckle under the exhaustion.

He approached the edge of the opposite side and peered into it. There, he saw it, the cave, it had a platform that led to it and the inside seemed to have some light in it.

With this discovery, another problem arises.

"How the hell am I supposed to go there?"

He sat down and grabbed his chin.

'Well, I could slowly descend to it by clinging onto the smoo— I am not doing that again.'

'If there are pills in there, I could recover from injury, just not too severe, and the pill can heal it. How about... I just jump onto the platform and break my legs then recover with the pill...?'

-...That's a bit too... much.

Yeong-jeon stood up once again, having made up his mind.

"I have made my verdict!"

-Rethink that decision please...