Chapter 7
What makes the disciples of the Nine Great Sects or the scions of the Five Great Clans so powerful from the very beåginning?
Is it their sturdy physique? Natural talent? Innate temperament?
Forget all that. It boils down to one fundamental thing—Superior martial arts.
That’s the biggest difference between the lesser sects and the great ones.
They simply start from different lines.
With equal talent, a disciple of the Nine Great Sects will always be stronger than one from a minor sect.
It’s only natural. They’re taught different things.
So then, what about the Myriad Poison Monarch Art I’m about to cultivate?
It may start off like a quiet stream, gently trickling forward…
But once I cross a certain threshold, an ocean will await me on the other side.
“Hoo…”
I let out a slow, deep breath.
From this point on, I’d have to give it everything I’ve got.
If I’m going to do this, I can’t settle for forming a dantian at the same level as some late-stage outer disciple just starting out in the art.
I need a vessel strong enough that not even the slightest crack would appear, no matter what I face.
And so, I began to circulate my energy.
The Myriad Poison Monarch Art is divided into six stages.
Its creator, the infamous Poison Fiend, took inspiration from the Buddhist concept of the Six Realms of Reincarnation when devising these stages.
The Six Realms. Six paths leading to the Perfect Poison Body.
That said, even the Poison Fiend himself only vaguely conceptualized the fifth and sixth stages—he never fully developed them.
I, however, refined and completed them.
Only by walking through all six paths can one attain the Perfect Poison Body.
Now, it’s time to put that into action.
The first step: entering the Realm of Hell.
To do that, I must pass the Three Poisons test.
It requires consuming poison consistently for three full years, without letting the body collapse in the process.
Normally, I’d need to procure a variety of toxins for that…
But thankfully, I don’t need to go that far.
Thanks to some rather generous individuals, my entire body is already saturated with poison.
If anything, I’ve overindulged for more than three years.
Lack of poison?
Not a chance.
Lately, I’ve been eating like a glutton, so the poison must’ve already thickened again.
Reciting the incantation, I slowly stimulated the poison that lay dormant in my body, letting it surge through my veins.
Thump… Thump… THUMP!
The poison began to rampage.
My veins bulged, and it felt as if a scream was clawing its way out of my throat.
They don’t call it the Realm of Hell for nothing.
If I stop here?
I’ll die.
But if I take one step further, everything changes.
I recited the Myriad Poison Monarch Art’s mantra and steadied my mind.
Like a tangled thread unraveling, the poison spread wildly through my body.
It raged within me.
But I didn’t even flinch.
The life I lived as the Shadow Lord wasn’t something that could be overturned by poison like this.
I forcefully reined in the poison, keeping it tightly suppressed regardless of the pain. No matter how it burned, I wouldn’t let it run wild.
Time passed.
Eventually—like a small snake coiled in on itself—energy began to condense in my dantian.
It felt like the formation of a nest.
And once that vessel was formed, it devoured poison as if it were its sustenance.
Thus, I had entered the first gate of the Myriad Poison Monarch Art:
The Realm of Hell was now open.
A tiny snake—for now.
But I knew… one day, that snake would grow large enough to devour everything in its path.
Still, this wasn’t the time to rest.
I wasn’t planning to stop here.
I was going to push straight into the next stage.
The Realm of Hell ends with the creation of the dantian.
Next comes the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts.
To move forward, I had to stimulate my blood vessels with poison and blast them open.
‘Hmm. Shall we begin?’
I refocused my mind.
Just as I was about to release the energy from my dantian throughout my body…
…Hmm?
The poison refused to pierce through the meridians.
Had I done something wrong?
No.
Then what was it?
Was my physical body still too weak?
No, this was something deeper…
Something far more fundamental.
A massive chain—no, countless chains—seemed to bind my entire body in place.
What… is this?
For a brief moment, the déjà vu I’d felt when I first stood before that enormous gate returned.
Then my vision cleared.
“Huuu…”
What was that just now?
One thing was certain—this body hadn’t only been fed poison.
It really is one troublesome vessel, in more ways than one.
Still, I didn’t despair.
Faced with an obstacle? You smash through it with even greater strength.
“Hup…”
I drew a deep breath.
And that breath was clean.
No trace of foul energy lingered in it.
This martial art doesn’t expel impurity.
It embraces it.
It contains it and controls it.
That’s what the Myriad Poison Monarch Art is all about.
“Feels good.”
The bed was soaked with sweat.
You’d think my body would be burning up, but instead, I felt refreshed.
Even the sweat was different—clear and transparent, without a hint of darkness.
That’s what sets the Myriad Poison Monarch Art apart from all other martial disciplines.
Where others purge corruption, this one embraces it.
“Hmm…”
It was a bit disappointing not to reach the Realm of the Hungry Ghosts, but greed is the enemy of progress.
“I’ve forged the vessel of the mind. Time to shape the vessel of the body.”
Mind and body must always be tempered together.
That’s the way of true cultivation.
.
.
.
The moonlight stretched lazily, as if tired, draping itself between the mountain ridges.
Marianne and Nerlin followed behind a boy—the one they served—with baskets full of food in hand.
His name was Deyan Pador.
Their destination was Mount Laktea.
It was a mountain owned by the Pador family—free of beasts and blessed with serene scenery. It was a favorite walking path for the family.
The only thing that puzzled them was Deyan’s request earlier.
Why did he ask us to bring a change of clothes…?
Deyan glanced at a blooming lilac bush and smiled softly.
“Still as beautiful as ever. I spent so much of my childhood here…”
He always said the strangest things at times like this.
As if he were an old man reminiscing about the past.
Even the way he put his hands behind his back…
It felt oddly mature… and out of place for someone his age.
Could he hear their thoughts?
Deyan suddenly stopped walking and turned to ask:
“Ah… How is Mother doing?”
Thankfully, it wasn’t what they feared.
Marianne nodded gently.
“She’s doing well, young master.”
“That’s good to hear…”
He let out a slightly bitter smile, one tinged with relief, and then turned back to them.
“I’m sorry, you two. I wanted to come alone, but if I’d gone off by myself, people would’ve panicked.”
“It’s alright! We’re enjoying this too!”
Nerlin’s eyes sparkled as she watched the fireflies dance around her.
“That’s a relief. I’ll be taking nightly walks from now on, so be prepared.”
“Yes, sir!”
Deyan gave a faint smile, amused by Nerlin’s enthusiasm, then resumed walking.
After a while, he stopped again.
They had arrived at a stream flowing through Mount Laktea. It wasn’t particularly deep, but deep enough that someone Deyan’s size would be fully submerged if he fell in.
“This looks like a good spot. Lay out the mats and sit down, both of you.”
Marianne and Nerlin, thinking little of it, spread out the picnic mat and sat down.
Was he just planning to admire the stream?
But instead of sitting with them, Deyan wandered around, eyeing the area carefully…
Then picked up a large stone—nearly as big as himself—and hurled it into the water.
Splash…!
He dusted off his hands after confirming the depth of the stream.
“This should do.”
He’d been acting strangely lately, so Marianne couldn’t help but wonder what kind of antics he had planned today.
She cautiously approached her eccentric young master and asked,
“…Young Master, what are you doing?”
“Going for a swim.”
“A swim?”
“Yes, a swim.”
And with that, Deyan suddenly leapt into the stream.
SPLASH…!
The unexpected action left Nerlin frozen mid-bite with a sandwich in her hand, and Marianne’s eyes nearly popped out of her skull as she stared at the stream.
“Young Master?!”
Had their young master just… thrown himself into the water to end it all?
.
.
.
SPLASH—!
The stream was deep enough to leave only the top of one’s head visible.
It was a bit disappointing, honestly.
If I wanted something deeper, I’d have to leave the estate entirely.
I suppose this will have to do.
With one eye cracked open, I examined the water below.
A good flow, and just the right depth.
It’s not a bad location to start.
I considered diving straight into training, but then…
“Young Master…!”
“W-What do we do?!”
“Nerlin! Go get someone—quick!”
“What about you?!”
“I’m going in after him!”
“You can’t even swim!”
“That’s not the point right now!”
Outside the water, all hell had broken loose.
I came here to train, but it seemed I needed to calm those two down first.
Swooosh…
“Ah?!”
As I surfaced, I spotted Marianne frozen mid-action, one leg already dangling over the stream like she was about to jump in.
At that angle, she would’ve ended up drowning for sure.
Looking a bit flustered, Marianne blushed furiously.
“Y-Young Master?”
“I told you—I was going for a swim.”
“Y-You can’t just jump in like that without saying anything! Of course, we’d panic!”
Nerlin, nodding along like a doll, chimed in immediately.
“Exactly, Young Master!”
“Alright, alright. I’m sorry. Don’t worry—I’m a great swimmer.”
“…But we’ve never seen you take a single swimming lesson, sir.”
Really now, don’t they believe anything I say?
As silly as it might seem, I suppose I’ll have to show them a bit—just to ease their minds.
That wasn’t hard.
With internal energy, a lot becomes possible.
“Wha—?”
I could walk across the surface like a water strider if I wanted to.
“Y-Young Master… When did you learn to do that?!”
Or glide around like a snake weaving through the current.
I wasn’t some child showing off, going, “Look what I can do!” Because for those two, this was the most effective reassurance I could give.
“See? I’m not about to drown or anything. So relax. I’m going to dive for a bit—why don’t you two enjoy the snacks?”
Marianne looked like she still wanted to protest, but before she could—
Ugh!
—Nerlin stuffed a sandwich into Marianne’s mouth without warning.
Marianne glared at her with puffy cheeks.
“Youuu… Nerlin…!”
But Nerlin just ignored her and waved at me cheerfully.
“Got it, Young Master!”
Moments like these were when Nerlin’s simple, go-with-the-flow nature really came in handy.
With both of them settled, it was time to get back to why I came here in the first place.
I dove beneath the surface once more.
And no, of course I didn’t come here just to take a swim for fun.
This was training.
Mental discipline wasn’t urgent.
After all, the insights and realizations I’d gained over countless years were still etched clearly in my mind.
But the body…
That was a different story.
Unlike the seasoned body of Tang Cheol-woo, hardened by trials and battles, this one was… frail. Far too weak.
No matter how profound your enlightenment may be, a sickly body can never properly manifest that power.
That’s why physical training is essential.
And in that regard, this stream was the perfect training ground.
Everyone’s splashed around in water at some point, right?
You’d remember—it takes more strength to move your arms in water than on land. Everything feels sluggish and unnatural.
Even walking becomes a struggle, as if the water itself is pushing back with every step.
And that’s not all.
Breathing.
After just a short while, your lungs start to scream for air, your mouth opening like a gasping clam.
In short, the water naturally weighs you down.
And that made it the ideal environment for physical training.
No need for fancy contraptions, logs, or pain-inducing devices.
Even back in the Murim world, the Tang family used river-based training regularly—it was a proven method, passed down through generations.
And on top of all that...
“Plenty of them… more than I expected.”
Fish.
Dozens of them were darting around me beneath the surface.
To me, they weren’t just fish.
They were premium training assets.
When training concealed weapon techniques, if you only aim at stationary targets, even the slowest student will land a hit eventually.
But that’s not good enough.
In a real battle, will your enemy stand there like a wooden dummy?
Absolutely not.
Opponents move. Constantly.
They come in all sizes and move at all speeds.
That’s why the Tang family trains using moving targets—whether animals or mechanical contraptions.
But the most effective method, above all else?
Catching fish.
Fish are unpredictable. They dart in all directions. Their speed and movement patterns vary wildly depending on the species.
There’s no better substitute for real, moving targets.
And one more thing.
I had to restrict myself.
No inner energy.
I’d catch fish using only my physical strength, hurling needles, and retrieving them without a trace of internal power.
That was the most efficient way to temper the body.
And so, my task became simple:
Shoot a needle at a fish. Retrieve it. Repeat.
Through that repetition, I’d build endurance.
And just by moving in the water, I’d steadily develop muscle.
Swish!
Even my breathing had to be controlled, rhythmic, and consistent.
When aiming, even the slightest twitch caused by breathing could ruin everything.
This was training to suppress even that.
To strike with hidden weapons so subtly… That the enemy wouldn’t even know they’d been hit—until it was too late.
I melded with the water, erasing my presence so thoroughly that the fish mistook me for a rock.
Swish. Swish. Swish.
In regular intervals, I moved underwater.
Then surfaced for air—Only to dive again, and again.
Time passed...
“Haa…”
Before I realized it, my body was floating on the water’s surface like a buoy—completely spent.
When was the last time I trained so hard that I was utterly drained?
I couldn’t even remember.
If not for the water keeping me cool, I was certain I’d be surrounded by puddles of sweat right now.
And here I was—floating alongside a cluster of dead fish I’d caught myself.
The whole scene felt oddly surreal.
But what amazed me the most… was this body.
I felt almost… empty inside.
This body wasn’t trash.
On the contrary…
It was overflowing with talent.
In terms of innate potential alone, it might’ve even surpassed Tang Cheol-woo of the Tang clan.
That talent had simply been artificially sealed.
I didn’t know exactly what kind of restriction had been placed on it…
If only someone had healed this body earlier… Would my first life have been different?
No.
Maybe I could’ve escaped the jagged prison that was the Count’s estate, but…
The outcome would’ve been the same.
My enemy had been a serpent in disguise—a creature hiding its fangs beneath a gentle smile.
That’s why this moment… this life… was the perfect opportunity.
This life was the combination of everything—my martial experience, my cultivation, and the memories from my first life.
I had the knowledge. I had the techniques.
What was there to fear?
But before all that…
Jayvolg.
I needed to deal with him first.
Just then, Marianne approached with two towels in her hands, ready to dry me off.
“Young Master? Are you alright?”
She stopped mid-step as she spotted the fish floating nearby and flinched.
Nerlin also came closer.
“Yowng Mashta…?”
Would it kill you to finish chewing your sandwich before speaking?
“I’m fine. More importantly, how about we cook these fish and share a meal together?”
“These? But if we return to the estate, we could have a proper meal prepared in no time…”
“So what? This has its own charm.”
I stood up.
My bones ached, and my muscles felt like they were tearing.
But it was fine.
It was still better than struggling to lift a decrepit body weighed down by old age.
Together, we grilled the fish and shared a simple meal by the water.
I needed to eat well.
From here on out, I would be pushing this body to its absolute limits—training day and night until it was worn down to the bone.
---The End Of The Chapter---
Join Patreon to support the translation and to read 5 chapters ahead of the release.
Comments