3:00 a.m. arrived.
A thin, cold mist began to descend from the mountaintop, blanketing the Evernight Gate grounds with a damp, piercing air. The Year 1 students arrived at the field with slow steps, faces still heavy with sleep.
However, as soon as their feet touched the boundary of the training area, the drowsiness evaporated, replaced by the stench of sweat and a scene that resembled a killing zone.
The Year 2 seniors, who usually walked with their chins held high and full of pride, now looked like worthless piles of construction waste. They crawled across the rocky ground, their uniforms tattered and soaked with sweat and tears. The sound of their ragged breathing sounded like the sound of an engine about to explode.
"Help... water..."
one of the Year 2 students groaned, groping for air before collapsing face-first into the ground.
"You, Year 2! Your shift is over! Drag yourselves back to the dorms!"
Choin shouted from the center of the field. He waved his hand in an irritating gesture, as if shooing a swarm of rats from a logistics warehouse.
"Don't be late for roll call tomorrow, or I'll perform a 'forced dismantling' on your bodies!"
The Year 1 students swallowed hard in unison. The hairs on the back of their necks stood on end. The sight of their seniors completely destroyed, both physically and mentally, was the starkest warning that death awaited them under the man's watchful eye.
"Now,"
Choin turned slowly, his eyes glinting purple in the misty darkness.
"Time to educate the seeds of the future. Step out into the field!"
Choin shouted.
Unlike the Year 2 students, who were being battered by pure physical force, Choin stood in front of Year 1 with a wooden sword in his hand. He didn't immediately give the order to run, but instead began giving a technical briefing that sounded foreign yet logical.
"Listen! The 24 Demonic Heavy Sword techniques aren't about who has the biggest muscles,"
Choin said, demonstrating a slow sword swing.
"A heavy sword is like a building pillar. If you rely solely on hand strength, you're exerting fatal energy."
Choin swung his sword in one swift, jerking motion that tore through the fog in front of him with a deafening whoosh!
"This swing isn't about the hands! It's about the distribution of kinetic energy from the ground, up through the footrest, rotated by the torque of the waist, and released through the tip of the sword!"
Choin pointed to his waist.
"If your back isn't straight and your support is shaky, you're wasting 40% of your kinetic energy into thin air. And in a life-and-death project, losing 40% of your energy means structural collapse!"
A Year 1 student, named Ru-Chen, tried to ask in a trembling voice,
"Mr. Moen... so we just need to correct our posture?"
Choin smiled, an expression that made Ru-Chen regret his question.
"Correcting our posture requires strengthening the foundation. Now, tie this 20-kilogram rock to your back with rope! Tighten it until it presses against your spine!"
"Swing that wooden sword 1,000 times! Each repetition must be no less than an inch!"
Choin commanded, his voice echoing in the morning silence.
"If your backs bend even one degree, the weight of the rock will pull your center of gravity back and slam your heads into the ground! Keep your backs straight!"
Smack! Smack! Smack!
The sound of the rope rubbing against their skin was terrifying. Each swing made their back muscles scream from the added weight pulling them down.
"Foreman, look at that kid at the end,"
the real Moen Kang Yo whispered in Choin's mind.
"His face is already blue. He's almost at the point of exhaustion, isn't he?"
"Leave it alone, Boss. Concrete only becomes strong after going through an extreme curing process,"
Choi replied coldly.
After 1,000 torturous swings, Choin wouldn't let them breathe.
"Enough! Now, run up and down the mountain! Two back and forth! Don't let go of that rock!"
Under the shade of a large tree at the edge of the clearing, Gwi-Hyuk stood still, taking in every detail of the horror. His eyes were fixed on Jin-Pyo. Although Jin-Pyo's body was covered in bruises and cuts from yesterday's incident, the young man's teeth were gritted so hard they made a creaking sound.
Jin-Pyo fell while climbing the first incline. The weight of the rock on his back hit the ground with a loud thud. He coughed, spitting out some blood and dust. However, every time his eyes were about to close, he saw the back of Moen Kang Yo (Choin), also carrying a much greater load, running ahead of him without a single drop of sweat, seemingly in vain.
"Get up, you damn coolie!"
Jin-Pyo cursed to himself.
"If Master Moen can do it, so can I!"
Gwi-Hyuk realized the philosophy behind this madness. The Master wasn't destroying them, he wondered. He was conducting a 'stress test.' He was separating which materials could be forged into steel capable of supporting this sect, and which would simply become construction waste to be thrown into a ravine.
6:00 a.m.
The sun was beginning to rise on the eastern horizon, illuminating the training field, now littered with the helpless bodies of the Year 1 students. Some had fainted, foaming at the mouth, while others stared blankly at the sky, their bodies trembling violently from nervous exhaustion.
Choi Choin stood before them, his breathing steady as if he had just completed a routine inspection, even though his clothes were already torn from the rocks.
"Listen carefully,"
Choi Choin said coldly, his voice penetrating their remaining consciousness.
"Tomorrow, at the same time, I want your stamina properly 'installed' within your body control systems. If I see any more unsteady bodies or footwork like today, I will completely destroy your disciple status."
Choin stared at the disciples crawling away with difficulty. The scene looked more like war refugees than martial arts sect disciples.
"Training is over. Dismissed!"
As the disciples disappeared into the mist, Choin glanced at Elder Gong's pavilion in the distance, which was beginning to brighten with lights. He knew that reports of this "crazy" training that violated all sect norms had surely reached the ears of that corrupt rat.
"The old management won't be happy with these new standards, Boss,"
Choin muttered.
"Of course,"
the real Moen Kang Yo replied with a bloodthirsty tone.
"But let them come. I want to see how strong their pillars of corruption will be when we hit them with your dismantling technique."