From that day onwards, nothing changed; their strict schedule remained from early morning to noon.

Well...

One thing changed drastically...

It's the disciples' bodies being tattered and more beaten than the last day. Still, Yeong-jeon chose to drag them and let them do his bidding.

Without a day to rest, the madman led the poor disciples to a land of dread.

"What're you all numbskulls doing?! Keep lifting those boulders!"

Yeong-jeon shouted as he looked at the scattered disciples. It is as if witnessing a large battle. And yet, Yeong-jeon stood in the middle with a large boulder on his back.

"I'm going back home..."

"Thirsty..."

"Mama... help..."

Useless grumbles were being thrown at the merciless dog.

Yeong-jeon groaned as he continued to observe the exhausted disciples. They were dirty, their breathing rough, and unable to move a muscle.

'I can't believe that this generation has gone soft...'

He sat down quietly on the ground, setting the boulder aside, and, unable to do anything, he turned skywards.

'Father, what do I do?'

He asked. He had previously vowed to do everything without relying on anyone. And yet, he was there, sitting on the ground, trying to ask the dead to solve the problem he caused.

-Ah, you're being too harsh on your descendants... Perhaps, it is time to let them recover.

He frowned, his gaze still fixed on the sky. He knew this wasn't his father speaking—just his conscience using his voice. But still, it made him pause.

-Blades, although strengthened from countless hammering, are forged not broken. Remember that, Yeong-jeon.

Yeong-jeon smiled. This was the answer he had been going for. Those words resounded in his mind like countless rain droplets.

'I see now. Thanks, father.'

The disciples, strewn across the training ground like fallen leaves, were not weak—they were simply in the process of becoming strong. He realized that pushing them too far, too fast, would shatter their potential rather than shape it. They needed time to be hammered into form, not to be destroyed.

He stood up, dusting himself. Looking at the spread brats, he barked.

"Brats! Continue your sleep back in your rooms."

The disciples, still sprawled on the ground, blinked in disbelief. Had their harsh master truly given them the day off?

"Deaf, are you? Go! Shoo!"

Groans and whispers of relief spread among the disciples as they began to pull themselves together. Some still couldn't believe what they were hearing, but they weren't about to question it.

Dong-rae who was as beaten as the others, sighed in relief. He looked as Yeong-jeon remained in his place, watching the other disciples walk into the boarding house.

He took a deep breath, deciding to approach him. His body ached with every step, but curiosity pulled him forward.

For days, they had been relentlessly pushed to their limits, enduring more than they thought their bodies could handle. But, something was bothering him...

'How is he still perfectly fine...?'

Yeong-jeon was training with them too, but with much more intensity than all of them. And yet, as he approached the madman, he saw no sign of fatigue.

There's a saying: "You can observe a blooming flower, but you can't understand it fully." The madman was that flower and he was just an onlooker.

"Yeong-jeon," he called out softly.

Yeong-jeon didn't turn to face him, his gaze still locked on the departing disciples.

"What is it?"

Dong-rae gulped, choosing his words carefully in front of this madman after learning what happened to the others who tried to oppose him.

"How... How come you are unaffected after lifting that..."

He glanced at the boulder a few steps away from Yeong-jeon. He didn't even know how and why he brought it here; he randomly pulled it out and started lifting it without strain.

Yeong-jeon finally looked at him, his eyes sharp but not unkind. "Do you think I'm unaffected?"

Dong-rae blinked, unsure how to respond.

"...yes."

Yeong-jeon shook his head lightly.

"I feel it. I feel every strain, my muscles tearing and my bones cracking."

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Dong-rae stared at Yeong-jeon. He got his answer but it only brought a plethora of questions.

"If so, why didn't you stop?"

Yeong-jeon pointed at the boulder.

"If I ordered you to lift that with the risk of being crushed beneath it, will you?"

Before even giving Dong-rae time to answer, Yeong-jeon continued.

"You believe you can't and so, you won't. The body follows the will—"

"So if I believe that I could lift this, I can?"

Dong-rae cut off Yeong-jeon's words and pointed at the boulder.

"Of course not."

Stab.

The quick response stabbed Dong-rae in the back. He had hoped to learn the madman's secrets but what he met was the blunt force of reality.

"Then what's with the 'body follows the will!?"

"You're wasting time talking to me instead of taking a rest."

After saying that, Yeong-jeon smacked Dong-rae's back.

Thud!

Dong-rae staggered, barely managing to stay on his feet after Yeong-jeon's 'light' slap. It felt like his spine had been rearranged.

"Ack! Hadn't you looked at my beaten body?! I'm clearly beaten and I'm being—"

Yeong-jeon didn't look back, his attention was already elsewhere.

"Get some sleep, brat."

"Fine!"

"Madman," Dong-rae muttered under his breath as he limped away, casting one last glance at Yeong-jeon, who had already turned his back to him.

As Dong-rae finally disappeared into the dormitory, Yeong-jeon remained standing, his eyes scanning the now-empty training grounds. He let out a deep breath as if taking off a heavy weight on his shoulders.

'They'll get there. Slowly but surely... they'll get there.'

The disciples were still rough steel, untempered, and unrefined. But in time, they would be forged into something far greater than they could ever imagine.

However...

The problem was...

'How long am I going to wait?! If we stay at this pace forever, we'd reach our 80s before even grasping the strength of the previous Third-class disciples!'

Yeong-jeon ran a hand through his hair in frustration, pacing the empty training grounds. The earlier decision to give the disciples a break weighed heavily on him now.

'Oh, come on! They'll sleep like some hibernating bear! They can't rest for half a day! I need to fasten their recoveries!'

-Why not use the Thunder Resilience Pill?

Yeong-jeon glanced at the sky as he heard a voice.

"The what?"

'Ah, that. That would help.'

'That would help if we had a medicine hall!'

'This sect has sunk so low that we can't even afford a physician!!'

The Thunder Resilience Pill was abundant before; in fact, it was used by the lowest disciples; it was commonly used to treat muscle aches and headaches.

However, there was one more purpose to it that Yeong-jeon's father kept secret...

-Yeong-jeon! Use your brain! Thunder Resilience Pill!

'Stop screaming!'

Yeong-jeon grabbed his chin. What nonsense blabber was his father saying? It's definitely not nonsensical; he would never imagine his father doing that.

'I remember now!'

He smirked widely as he stared at a particular mountain. There were many mountains surrounding the sect but there was also a large mountain that was on the sect leader's building. That was where the madman's eyes focused.

Only two in the history of their sect knew this; there was a secret cave on that mountain peak. And without a second thought, he ran towards it.

Thud!

Dong-rae slumped on the hard bedding. And it made a creaking noise, but he ignored it; everything was broken in the sect anyway, so why even bother?

"I hate this!"

His body aches, his muscles are screaming for help, and worst of all, he can't sleep through it.

'Ack!! Sleep! Sleep! Sleep!'

He started banging his head on the pillow. But no matter how much he tried, he couldn't sleep or even yawn.

He tossed and turned on the hard bedding, his frustration only growing with each attempt to get comfortable. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony, refusing to let him rest.

After a while, he sighed and stood up, wincing as pain shot his legs.

He made his way to the door and opened it.

"I can't sl—"

"Uh..."

"..."

There was another disciple who had opened the door at the same time as him.

"Aren't you Ryu Yongsun?"

Dong-rae asked as he walked to the hallway, closing the door behind him.

The disciple nodded and did the same as Dong-rae.

"And you are..?"

"Uh?"

Dong-rae blinked in confusion.

"You haven't told me your name."

"I'm Dong-rae," he responded, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

Ryu Yongsun nodded.

"You're the one who joined with the madman?"

"...madman..?"

"That's what the others called him."

They stood there for a moment in the dim hallway, both of them worn out from the day's brutal training. The flickering candlelight cast long shadows on their tired faces.

"So... You can't sleep?"

Dong-rae sighed, nodding slowly. "Yeah, my body's too beat up to rest."

Ryu Yongsun chuckled softly, though the sound lacked any real humor. "Same here. I figured I'd try to get some air, but this place is so broken even the halls feel suffocating."

Then, he started walking as he spoke.

Dong-rae followed Ryu Yongsun down the creaky, dimly lit hallway, both of them too tired to really care about their destination. The sect's infrastructure was crumbling around them, and every corner of the building seemed to groan under the weight of its age and neglect.

"How did this become like... this?"

Ryu Yongsun pushed the door leading to the outside and sighed.

"The sect?"

He stepped outside, and Dong-rae followed, the cold night air hitting their faces as they leaned against the railing of the worn-out porch. The stars glittered faintly above, distant and uncaring.

"Yeah, the sect," Dong-rae clarified, his eyes scanning the broken training grounds in the distance. "How did it fall so far?"

"Do you know the demonic war 200 years ago?"

"Yes."

"It was said that all masters of this sect were sent and died in the war. After that, I don't know much."

Dong-rae stared at the stars, his mind churning with the weight of Ryu Yongsun's words. The demonic war, the collapse of the sect—everything made sense, yet it didn't. How has a once-great sect been reduced to this?

"Why did you join?" he asked, turning to Yongsun.

At the question, Ryu Yongsun avoided Dong-rae's gaze and turned to the sky.

"A wish."

"Wish..?"

"From my dying grandfather."

Ryu Yongsun then looked at the ground with a grim glint in his eyes almost as if he was about to cry, biting his lip.

-Ryu Yongsun, please, head to the Longquan mountains... It is my only way of repaying them back...

Ryu Yongsun took a deep breath and turned to Dong-rae.

"You, why did you join the sect?"

Dong-rae hesitated, glancing up at the faint stars in the sky before turning his gaze back to Ryu Yongsun. The question seemed so simple, yet the answer was tangled in his thoughts.

"I... didn't have much choice," he finally admitted, his voice quieter than before. "After wandering around as a beggar, I was picked up by Yeong-jeon. He didn't exactly give me an option. It was either follow him or stay in the streets."

Ryu Yongsun nodded, though his expression softened with understanding rather than pity. "So you're here because of him?"

Dong-rae let out a small, dry laugh. "More like forced into it. But... now, I guess I'm just trying to survive. It's better than being out there with nothing."

They stood in silence for a moment, the cool night air swirling around them.

As Ryu Yongsun observed the training grounds, he spoke.

"Speaking of Yeong-jeon, it does seem that he didn't join us when we went back to the boarding house."

"Yeah, you're right," Dong-rae replied, his brow furrowing in thought. "Now that you mention it, I haven't seen him since he sent us off."

"Where the hell could that madman go?"

Huff! Huff!

Yeong-jeon kept running to the mountain behind the sect leader's building.

Whatever it was, he seemed to be more focused on it than the things around him.

"Thank you, Father!" he said as he kept his pace, huffing and puffing.

-Y-you're welcome, Yeong-jeon.

"Hehe!"

Yeong-jeon quickened his steps and ran faster toward the mountain. His father showed him the clue and he has now solved it.

All that is left is to reap the rewards.

Yeong-jeon couldn't wipe his grin off his face.

"I'm hitting the jackpot!"