‘You truly endured that pain. Really.’
Derek had felt it firsthand while handling the medicine.
The Heart of the Ghost King possessed a toxicity on an entirely different level from any other medicine.
And it wasn't simply a matter of being poisonous.
‘If we're talking toxicity alone, it would rival even the poison of the Zhen Bird.’
The Zhen Bird—a legendary creature said to possess absolute poison.
Its venom was said to be so potent and horrifying that no antidote existed. In his original world, it was merely a legendary poison recorded only in historical texts, but in this world, the Zhen Bird actually existed.
He even knew where its habitat was.
However, even knowing its habitat, Derek never dared to attempt obtaining it.
Acquisition difficulty: 'Unknown.'
Attempting to obtain it would mean certain death nine times out of ten—how could one possibly acquire it?
And the Heart of the Ghost King was equal to, if not more powerful than, that very Zhen Bird.
In truth, consuming that raw should have been impossible.
Thus, he had devised a method of consumption that would minimize its potency as much as possible, but he never could have imagined that the moment he lost consciousness, the man would take the medicine without even waiting.
Even though he had left words in a tone asking him to wait.
…However.
‘Still, if he endured it, that alone carries great meaning…’
Derek knew.
Simply consuming an Unknown-grade elixir without any trickery was enough to potentially grant new traits.
‘He essentially fought and won against that vicious potency. Absorbing all of it within an hour or two is proof of that, so it's certain.’
Originally, he had planned to have him consume it through a safer method, including anesthetics and other substances, but somehow he ended up fighting that pain with his entire body and forcibly absorbing the medicinal properties.
This was an achievement sufficient to proudly call an 'accomplishment.'
‘One of [The Patient One], [The Madman], or [The Pain Enjoyer]—one of these traits must have definitely appeared, right?’
‘[Poison Resistance] level must have definitely risen too…’
‘…And the levels of other traits might have risen as well!’
It might seem like his expectations were too high, but conversely, one could also say this:
Surviving the 'pain of the elixir' was precisely that remarkable of a feat.
Thus, Derek trembled involuntarily as he guessed just how steeply his growth curve must have shot upward.
It was a shudder of anticipation.
‘L-Level 7 traits wouldn't have risen… from Level 8 onward, it's an entirely different tier… But just having new traits appear and other trait levels rise is an incredible achievement!’
Adding a trait meant something different from simply gaining a skill.
It meant that the person's growth momentum—in other words, their potential—had deepened infinitely.
To put it in the instructor's terms, he had essentially received the [Beolmosesu] right now.
“…If things go well, he might reach Level 8 within this year……”
[Aura User], [Wielder of the Demonic Sword], or [Successor of the Black King], and so on.
Those who reached such Lv.9·Lv.10 were monsters beyond the heavens, and since they rarely moved from their seclusion, they could be called 'Immortals' who silently watched over the mortal realm from above the mountains and skies.
In other words, beings akin to living strategic weapons who would not move unless it was a serious situation.
Conversely, starting from the 'Lv.8 Warriors,' unlike those monsters, they were ones who boldly strode through the mortal realm, reigning as both terror and symbols of power—like Mountain Lords!
‘Though their strength isn't absolute, they are ones who could fight alone against a thousand knights and emerge victorious.’
One against a thousand.
Top-tier hero-class beings who could single-handedly change the tide of battle and even turn defeat into victory…!
Even that description wouldn't be an exaggeration.
And just yesterday, the 'weakened Ghost King' they saw was Level 8—.
‘…If it had been in a normal state, it would have been Level 9, or 9.5.’
Regardless, even at Level 8, the fact that it was among the highest tier within that same level was undeniable.
Hence the anticipation.
The difference of a single level was absolute.
Yet right before his eyes was a knight who had risen despite that level gap and fought toe-to-toe against a top-tier Lv.8 boss monster, was he not?
‘If he's already this strong, what if that person actually reaches Level 8…?’
If he does well….
‘A Level 8 capable of going toe-to-toe with Level 9…, capable of PvP, might be born?’
Derek looked at the instructor with anticipation for a future that hadn't yet arrived.
Wondering just how much he would grow.
* * *
‘—Light?’
His body felt light.
Not simply light, but a lightness as if he had reverted to his childhood.
After all, wasn't there such a time?
A time when the body was so light that running and running again wouldn't make the knees ache but instead feel fresh, when no matter how roughly he used his body, it would be perfectly fine the next day—his teenage years.
That was the current state of his body.
Hup!
Ihan lightly launched his body into the air and exclaimed in surprise.
He had only lightly pushed off the ground, yet it felt like he jumped at least 50cm.
If he jumped with full power, just how high could he leap?
Sshhk!
A casually thrown kick sliced through the air.
Not as a figure of speech, but literally—the sound of a blade cutting through the air as it cleaved it.
A sharpness that made him think even his foot could effortlessly slice paper in half now.
It was originally a skill he couldn't perform.
‘I've always been severely lacking when it comes to delicate techniques…’
Whether it was shallowness of talent or a lack of inclination, he had never been confident in delicate techniques.
He had such a strong tendency to rely purely on feel when executing techniques that he lacked delicacy…, or rather, since he was deficient in theoretical aspects, his techniques tended to be quite simple.
But now, the always-lacking capacity of his techniques had suddenly heightened, making detailed and precise movements possible.
It was as if he had instantly mastered a technique that his original self would succeed at only once out of a hundred attempts.
‘Wow, what on earth is this?’
To accurately describe the phenomenon occurring in his body, there were two major changes.
One was a body grown light as if an old man had rejuvenated to his boyhood.
Not merely light, but one enveloped in vitality that seemed at least ten times that of his teenage years.
This was a physical state that vastly surpassed even his condition before the injury.
And the second was precision.
Until now, he had simply used his body recklessly, but now there was such a thing as precision to it.
It was merely speculation, but he wondered if as his body's potential increased, the issue of delicacy had resolved itself.
‘Did my body become so excessively healthy that it no longer needs to use my head needlessly?’
Originally, there should have been a process of countless trial and error and organizing theories while sweating beads of sweat, but now his already healthy body had become even healthier and overflowing with strength, and he had gained a delicacy in technique that disregarded theory altogether….
It was fortunate, but somehow.
‘Ah, this isn't good.’
It felt like his ignorance was only growing larger.
‘…Screwed, this is.’
Even with the elixir alone, hadn't he nearly died putting on a solo show?
Ihan wanted to decline any such experiences in the future, and he wanted to use his head too.
But with his body improving even further, it seemed like there would be even less need to use his head going forward. Good grief….
“Hmm, should I start studying from now on?”
He pondered whether reading some books might raise his intelligence quotient a bit.
Ihan didn't want to be called ignorant or an uneducated brute.
“Haa, such is my fate.”
Saying that even a body becoming too good was a problem, Ihan let out a satiated sigh.
‘And even if it improves…’
…I can't even use it, so whatever.
Ihan checked his alter ego, which still showed no reaction, and wore a bitter smile different from before.
Even the Ghost King couldn't cure an incurable disease caused by a curse, it seemed….
‘Even a monk wouldn't be this quiet.’
A melancholy desolation filled his eyes.
* * *
“…In-instructor, do you feel anything different?”
The boy, who had quietly waited for him to check his body condition, asked what state he was in, and Ihan nodded.
“Indescribably good.”
“…What do you mean?”
“Hmm, to explain it in words, no, to show you concretely, now—.”
Sngk.
“It's become good enough that even this is possible.”
“……?”
Was it the alchemist's curiosity? Sohim had been extremely curious about what changes his body had undergone, and Ihan gladly obliged the prospective assistant(?)'s hope by personally demonstrating.
Wood presumed to be leftover material from setting up the workshop.
When he demonstrated lightly cutting one of those pieces of wood, the kid's eyes went wide.
Cutting wood wasn't exactly a difficult task, but….
“Y-you just cut that with your hand?”
“Precisely, I did it with my thumb and index finger, and rather than cutting, I scooped it out. You know how you carve out wood with a carving knife? Same principle.”
“…So, what does that mean exactly?”
“……Well?”
“…….”
It seemed like he was teasing him, but this was the only way he could explain.
Saying that the micro-movements and control he previously couldn't manage were now about five times more sensitive than before was the full extent of what could be explained.
“And this works too.”
As if he couldn't explain but could demonstrate as much as he wanted, Ihan lightly thrust his fist into the air, but unlike the light thrust—
Paang!
“…??”
The result was not light.
Sohim was dumbfounded once again.
Just now….
“Y-you struck an object thirty paces away? …With just fist force!?”
“That's right. Originally, I could only strike objects ten paces away, but now thirty paces is possible.”
“…Why does that work?”
“Good question.”
Hundred-Step Divine Fist.
When he first demonstrated it in Bulkan in the past, it was a fist technique that could only strike objects within about ten paces, but now it was different.
Thirty paces.
He could now strike objects thirty paces away, and destroying them was also possible.
Right now, he had only swung lightly because there were many things that could break, but if he swung properly, he could blast away even an assassin targeting him from afar with just the wind of his fist.
And it wasn't just the Hundred-Step Divine Fist—countless techniques must have been enhanced like this.
‘If it's now, I think I can use the Gwanil Spear three times in a row, and the Plum Blossom Sword Technique twice consecutively.’
That was what the delicacy of technique meant.
No longer wasting unnecessary strength, and becoming able to use force efficiently and cunningly.
Therefore, he thought:
With his current body condition, he could hold his own fighting the Ghost King alone.
Even without others' help like yesterday.
‘How ironic.’
By consuming the Ghost King's heart, he had become equal to the Ghost King….
It was ironic, but perhaps this was precisely the law of the jungle.
Winner takes all.
The winner takes everything.
As long as you're alive, that person is the victor.
‘It's not the strong one who wins. It's the one who laughs last who wins.’
And now, Ihan felt he could completely shake off the powerlessness he had felt during yesterday's monster subjugation battle.
The creature was dead, having become his nourishment and vanished.
Thus, Ihan wore a satisfied smile and…
“Watch closely. I'm not sure if I can do it either, but I'll just try once.”
“Huh?”
“…Wonder if it'll work.”
He presented one performance of joy.
-Tap.
“…Ah, it works, this.”
“…….”
“How is it? Quite a fascinating spectacle, hehe.”
“…….”
…Even at his cheerful question, Derek couldn't answer and simply stood there dumbfounded.
No, he even wondered if what he was seeing right now was reality.
‘S-Sky Walking?!’
Seeing Ihan climb through empty space as if walking up stairs, Derek's soul truly left him this time.
What in the….
‘Could it be that that person isn't someone from the same hometown as me, but a true martial artist reincarnated?’
Perhaps a former abbot of Shaolin.
That seemed far more rational, and Derek was momentarily left completely spiritless.