Time passed and the sun rose on the horizon, embracing the land with its light.

Normally, this is the time when morning training starts. Well, there was one disciple who could not participate in that.

Yeong-jeon was floating in the air, assuming a lotus position. After swallowing the Thunder Resilience Pill, he kept on indulging in it.

Unlike the first attempt, he was levitating calmly, his face unmoved as if there was no strain on his body.

The indulgence led to the pills' numbers dwindling to a measly amount. Yeong-jeon, of course, was better than a greedy bastard and kept his word.

He left some for the disciples.

What a blessed man.

-As if!

Yeong-jeon's face twitched.

'Don't bother my purification, father...'

He was purifying the pill's impurities. Of course, if he failed and let even a drop leak out, it would be a hassle to deal with it.

By devouring those poor pills, he had improved his inner energy and revitalized his whole body. The power was able to punch the current sect leader's gut countless times.

In retrospect, this improvement was comparable to an elder turtle taking a step forward.

If he truly wished to reach his past strength, he had to improve faster and better than this. Little building blocks matter in creating a powerful foundation, of course, Yeong-jeon knew that as he had been preached countless times by his father.

The problem was if you took too much time staying on the base, you would be towered by others who had been faster.

A strong foundation is needed but you also need to expand your horizons.

After a while, Yeong-jeon opened his eyes; his skin was now smooth as a result of his purification. His wounds and bruises were also gone.

"Finally, done."

Dropping with a loud thud, he stretched his back, making a cracking noise of stiffness that had accumulated as he kept sitting.

"This body gets too stiff so easily. In my past life, I could cultivate for days!"

He covered his eyes as he turned to the outside light.

"How long have I been cleansing my body?"

He grabbed the box containing the Thunder Resilience Pills and took one last glance at the vase of alcohol.

'One day, maybe, I will drink with you, father. But I can't be too complacent now...'

"That said, skipping a few hours of training isn't going to cause me much trouble."

Yeong-jeon was wrong.

Below the mountains, Dong-rae was walking in the halls with a nervous expression.

'Where the hell is that madman?! He never went to the Boarding house since early morning!'

His fellow disciples all went to the training grounds except one man.

Missing one doesn't make it stand out, right?

It turned out that In-su had the eyes of an eagle. Because he noticed immediately that Yeong-jeon was missing.

In response, Dong-rae had to come up with an excuse.

-Where is Yeong-jeon?

-He... Uhh... overslept, senior brother.

-Get him over here to train. We don't tolerate such things.

-Yes!

The other disciples were training so Dong-rae was alone in finding this madman who went on a walk.

"We have only stayed here for a week and this mutt is already missing?!"

Dong-rae shouted as he reached their room. He had checked multiple times earlier and he found no dogs of any kind.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Tak!

He slammed the door open. How can he find Yeong-jeon? The answer is simple; he can't. Because he was with Yeong-jeon when they arrived, he guessed that any trouble Yeong-jeon went into was also his trouble.

If that's the case, and Yeong-jeon is evicted, he will be forced to live in the streets.

"Come out, you dog!"

Dong-rae's eyes widened.

"Uh?"

"Dog you say?"

"Nothing!"

Dong-rae's eyes wandered around the room. The window seemed to be slammed open, indicating that this dog snuck in. Strangely, his body was emitting a disgusting smell.

"What the hell is that smell?!"

His face contorted as the stench reached his nose, and he slowly stepped back.

The dog went missing for a few hours and came back smelling like a corpse. No, it's definitely worse than a corpse.

"Why are you smelling like a mountain of dead rats?!"

There was a confused look on Yeong-jeon's face as if he didn't understand what Dong-rae was talking about.

"What?"

He raised his arm and smelled his armpit.

At that, his face contorted more tightly than Dong-rae. He didn't realize it until now. Since the impurities were extracted from him, they exited through the pores and stained the clothes he had been wearing.

"You smell horrible! Clean yourself!"

"Fuck! I will wash myself a thousand times over!"

Tak! Tak! Tak!

Ryu Yongsun's wooden sword clashed with another disciple's wooden sword. It was Friday and it was time for their sparring matches.

In-su was watching them with an impatient look.

'Where are those two?'

It had been a while since he sent Dong-are off to find Yeong-jeon. His patience was wearing thin.

'What's taking them so long?..'

"We've arrived, senior brother!"

The voice took everyone's attention.

The disciples halted their spars and looked at who spoke. And as they saw the man behind, their eyes and mouth went wide then stiff.

Yeong-jeon took a step forward to the training grounds. He had to wash himself 10 times over to get rid of the smell but the stench lingered faintly. Fortunately, the newly washed clothes he wore canceled out the faint smell.

As Yeong-jeon approached the cluster of wooden swords, Soo-yeon watched in shock.

'How... In one day... No, a few hours... How did his skin turn so smooth?!'

Yeong-jeon took most of the pill to cleanse himself, causing his impurities to slowly come out and put his body in the best condition.

Of course, this was unknown to the others. It just seemed as if this dog took a few hours off to do skin care.

The disciples watched, and their expression was a strange mix of shock and confusion.

'What the hell happened to him?!'

'Did he just rejuvenate?!'

'He looked like he awakened!'

'Why does he look like he took a bath a thousand times?!'

In-su stepped forward.

"You missed out on morning training."

"I apologize, senior brother."

Yeong-jeon bowed and clasped his hands.

Seeing Yeong-jeon apologize, he nodded, accepting the apology.

"Please refrain from missing out on training from now on."

"Yes."

"Please, join the other's training."

Yeong-jeon tapped Dong-rae's shoulder lightly with the wooden sword.

Everyone stared for a while but slowly went back to their training. They wanted to ask questions, however, when they looked at who would answer those questions, they gave up.

Thud!

Dong-rae stepped forward and swung his sword.

'Too crude.'

As a sword came flying at Yeong-jeon, he raised it slightly and observed the other disciples.

'All of them, crude.'

Thud!

Dong-rae's sword met the tip of Yeong-jeon's sword. His eyes went wide as he saw that his sword never even shook Yeong-jeon.

The tip of the sword was the farthest from the hand, so it should be the easiest point to break through.

'How can't I get through?! He seems like he isn't even trying to grip his sword!'

Yeong-jeon stared at Dong-rae's movements. The slashes lacked flow. It's like a river continuously blocked by boulders.

'Although I am training their bodies, a martial artist's true strength lies in their martial arts.'

'Even the brutes in the north move more smoothly than this. I might train their bodies but if they don't possess any knowledge in fighting, they will be nothing more than bodybuilders.'

If the sect's techniques were gone, what is this strange swordsmanship the sect is teaching?

Yeong-jeon can't help but ask.

"What martial arts is the sect teaching?"

"Huh?!"

Dong-rae swung his sword as he stepped forward. But Yeong-jeon simply swayed his shoulder to one side.

"We joined the sect at the same time and you don't know?!"

"Why would I ask?"

"Hmph! Unlike you, I actually gather information! I know all the martial arts needed to learn till we reach second class."

"Then tell it to me then!"

Dong-rae groaned as Yeong-jeon kept avoiding his swings, but the greater reason was that he was asking something every disciple must learn.

A disciple of a sect oblivious to their own martial arts?

Unheard of.

"Fine! The first is the Swift-Wind Sword Technique. Then, after that, the Mountain River Technique. Then, the Nine Points Sword Strokes."

Yeong-jeon nodded. The techniques told by Dong-rae were taught in the past too. However, these were the only techniques passed through with manuals rather than the tongue.

'This sect still has its essence after all. What bothers me the most is...'

'Those three techniques are needed to graduate? Impossible! Those techniques are expected to be learned by the disciples within a year then they are taught the real martial arts of Thunderous Sky Sect!'

He glanced at the vast blue sky.

'Ah, look. The sky has no clouds, just like this sect, having no future.'

Well, Yeong-jeon understood the situation too. Learning a sword technique from a book is possible but a true master is more helpful.

After all, you don't need to be a scholar to swing a sword.

But... There are no such masters within the sect's grounds. If a man who barely had any knowledge about math taught a kid about it, the kid would be more incompetent than the one who taught them.

'In-su must have taken a glance off those manuals and just taught them without understanding it thoroughly!'

Yeong-jeon watched the 'One who had the greatest talent,' Soo-Yeon. She was better but only a step ahead. Her movements were still as rough as a rock forcefully dragged along a broken road.

'Talent, my ass.'

He turned his gaze to Dong-rae who was struggling to even grace a string of his hair.

"Only three martial arts? There is surely one more, right?"

"Yah. There is one more," Dong-rae muttered under his labored breathing. "The lightning's six senses, I think."

"..."

Yeong-jeon's eyes went wide as he heard Dong-rae's words and a vision from the past played.

***

"The lightning's six senses are pretty complex for the third-class disciples. I'm thinking of swapping it with one of the second-class disciples' techniques."

Yeong-jeon gulped down a large chicken thigh as he drank a cup of alcohol.

"Yah! The newbies are struggling! Unlike me who learned it on my first try! Swap it out!"

"There you are again, being too arrogant. You've turned 18, you're not a kid anymore."

A sigh escaped from his father's mouth as he scratched the back of his neck.

"It would have been an easy feat. However, the manual has been passed down by our elders, dating back to the third sect leader."

"I can't just decide differently from our ancestors."

Yeong-jeon groaned as he put down his cup of alcohol.

"If you suddenly blew a balloon without letting it adjust, it would explode!"

"Such a complex technique for the third-class disciples is unheard of!"

His father nodded. His son's words were right. To learn such a complex technique, one must have experience or a ridiculous amount of talent. The former was something a third-class disciple didn't have, while the latter seemed to be hogged by his son.

"The techniques from the second class and up are all passed down through the tongue. If I wish to move the lightning's six senses a rank up, it would mean destroying the manual created by the third sect leader."

"Why not just lay it beside the third sect leader's altar?"

"Good idea. However, this celebration of your 18th birthday isn't just about drinking your first sip of alcohol. It's about finding a wife."

"A wife?"

"You're 18 now, good enough for a family. I can arrange a marriage with the 9 Rivers sect's lady."

Yeong-jeon slammed the table, almost making it lean onto his side.

"That woman?! All the people there are all jerks! They challenge me every time I walk by their river!"

"Arrogant as hell too!"

'Look who's talking...'

Yeong-jeon continued speaking as if letting him have a wife would tarnish his life forever.

And after that, his father never talked about marriage with his son ever again.

***

"Lightning's Six Senses..." he muttered under his breath.

Dong-rae, barely catching his breath, blinked. "What? You don’t know about it either?"

Yeong-jeon ignored him, still lost in thought. This technique, passed down through generations of sect leaders, was not meant for beginners. It was complex, meant to hone a disciple's ability to perceive attacks from all directions and anticipate them with lightning speed. To hear that it was still being taught to third-clas

s disciples was shocking, especially given how poorly trained the current ones were.

'Father put it in front of the third sect leader's altar... They must have taken it out from there then.'

He sighed heavily as if a large mountain had been placed on him.

'This sect is in worse shape than I thought...'