The cadets were in uproar after witnessing Levy Folt, a frail noble lady, successfully demonstrate the technique of gyeong.

The amazement that such an incredible skill could be achieved by someone other than their instructor.

The awe of a young girl, who had barely begun her training, managing to pull it off.

A sense of hope that they, too, might be able to do it.

And so, their desire to learn gyeong was brimming over.

However…

"Ugh…!"

"G-Grandma…? Why are you here?"

"Get a grip! Your grandma’s perfectly healthy! She’ll live longer than you!"

…At the moment, they weren’t so sure.

Each of the cadets lay sprawled on the ground, clutching their stomachs. Those who had been the first to step forward for the experience were now rolling in the dirt, writhing in agony, and some even looked like they were having near-death experiences.

What was this familiar scene?

They had faced countless extreme situations since coming to Vulcan. They’d only wanted to learn, but how had it come to this?

"Next in line. Come on, hurry up."

"..."

"Why are you all just standing there? Don’t you want to learn?"

"Instructor, why are we treated so differently from Levy Folt?"

"Treated differently?"

"I mean, why did you hit us instead of just putting a hand on our backs like you did with her?"

When he’d offered to let them experience gyeong, they had expected he would gently place his hand on their backs, just as he had with Levy Folt. Instead, the instructor had landed a punch squarely on their stomachs, sending them sprawling across the ground, filled with an overwhelming sense of dread.

‘What did we do wrong?’

‘Did he find our diaries where we complained about him?’

They didn’t want to end up split in half like that log, so they wondered if they should drop to their knees and apologize, worried that they might have unknowingly offended him. Their survival instincts, honed through countless tough days on Vulcan, were kicking in.

"What nonsense."

He scoffed.

"Levy Folt’s body is relatively weak, so I was a bit gentler with her. But you all are different. You’ve trained harder, and your physical abilities have improved significantly in a short time. So I’m showing you gyeong in the most efficient way possible."

"D-do we have to be hit?"

"I need to drive the technique into your bodies. This way, you’ll experience it fully and reach a state of awakening. Be grateful—this is a skill only I can do. It requires delicate control."

The Internal Impact Method. He’d gained a lot from enduring Baltar’s techniques, developing a convenient method like this one.

"W-we won’t die from this, right?"

"Of course not. You’ll feel as if your insides are being ripped apart, but no one dies from it. I guarantee that."

He’d confirmed this through ‘experiments’ with Jake, his only friend from the knight order. Although there were side effects, such as two hours of intense pain and cramping… it wasn’t worse than being tortured all day by a magician.

"...This seems like a very barbaric method," Kunta remarked.

A barbarian warrior was calling it barbaric. They shared the sentiment. However, Ihan remained resolute.

"Try it first. It’s the fastest way."

"B-but this is gender discrimination!"

"Not at all. It’s fair. How could I treat beginners the same as those who are experienced? I trust in your endurance."

"Please, treat us a little unfairly instead."

They were dead serious.

However…

"Stop whining and step up. The sun’s going down."

"......"

They didn’t have a choice.

 

-Thud.

"I-I feel like I’m dying…"

"Ugh…!"

"..."

Some had collapsed, while others had fainted. It felt like they had met their lifetime quota of blackouts here on Vulcan.

But despite the pain, they could feel a warmth spreading from the center of their stomachs. It was rougher than the pulse Levy Folt had experienced, but it was there—a powerful energy they had never recognized within themselves. As they felt it, they began to understand.

Gyeong was about…

"Controlling ‘mass’... That’s just absurd."

Martial techniques like the aura techniques temporarily amplified the body’s internal energy, or gi, increasing one’s capabilities tenfold or even twentyfold based on skill. Its greatness required no explanation.

By contrast, the gyeong they had just discovered was closer to an ‘awareness’ technique.

Rather than amplifying physical abilities, it involved manipulating one’s own ‘mass,’ something every human possesses. Arnault was deeply impressed by this different approach, nodding in understanding.

‘So that’s why such unbelievable feats are possible.’

Splitting the log? Though it had seemed impossible just a moment ago, theoretically, it now made sense. Take Levy Folt, for instance.

‘If she could master gyeong, she could do it too.’

If her body weight was around 39 kilograms, it would be feasible. You might ask how a body so light could manage it, but the key was in how the mass was used.

‘Gyeong is a technique that allows one to freely direct their entire body’s mass into specific areas.’

Even if a 39-kilogram body isn’t particularly heavy, it could be devastating if all that mass were focused into a single punch or kick.

‘A 39-kilogram metal projectile? That would be a deadly weapon.’

If you add in the strength and acceleration from a punch, the force would be substantial.

‘A 39-kilogram slingshot… it could break through a fortress wall.’

Even Goliath died from a well-placed sling stone. If this technique could be mastered, it would be terrifying.

"In theory, even Levy Folt could split a log now. But this technique would place an enormous burden on the body. It’s the kind that could lead to self-destruction if used recklessly."

"Now I understand why the instructor’s been so hard on us. If your body isn’t tough enough, you can’t even attempt this."

"If you misuse it, your body will pop like a balloon. Kunta thinks caution is essential."

"...It’s efficient, though. With the right technique, anyone could become stronger. The potential for growth is limitless."

"..."

Roen’s comment was surprisingly well-reasoned, and the others found themselves nodding in agreement.

Indeed, the power of gyeong would continue to grow as long as the practitioner kept training and developing their body. Physical weight could be increased through proper diet and training. Gyeong didn’t just control mass but could convert the heart’s pulse into energy.

In time, a practitioner could learn to distribute all their body’s mass appropriately.

In the end…

"In terms of using the body’s energy, it’s akin to martial techniques. Though the path is grueling, if you can reach the end, you might just…"

"Become a superhuman, are you saying?"

"You already know the answer."

"Mm!"

They couldn’t deny it—both gyeong and martial techniques were paths to transcendence. And if they were correct, it meant…

‘Are we witnessing the birth of a new school of thought?’

‘It’s ironic. I thought only our elders could be like this.’

‘A Grand Warrior?’

Each of them had thoughts that left them in awe, looking at Ihan with a newfound reverence.

"...They’re all enjoying themselves."

Having overheard them, Ihan sighed and shook his head. It was as if he was wondering when they’d stop jumping to conclusions.

"As it stands, gyeong is just an inferior version of martial techniques. It’s not something worthy of public recognition."

"I-it doesn’t sound right to hear the creator say that."

"What does it matter? I’m the one who made it, so I can evaluate it as I see fit."

"......"

His evaluation was strict.

"You’re all just fantasizing. I’ve been training this, but I still can’t say it’s perfect. Superhuman? You all have vivid imaginations. Why not write a novel while you’re at it?"

"..."

"Because of you, these seedlings are already getting ideas. Are you going to take responsibility if they overdo it and die?"

"…Mmm."

His scathing criticism was hard to refute, especially since many of the seedlings had been listening with bright-eyed enthusiasm, their faces brimming with excitement.

…Though they quickly sobered up under Ihan’s rebuke.

Thus, Ihan firmly reprimanded them for getting carried away.

"Don’t take that nonsense seriously. Being called a genius from a young age and mastering martial techniques in a day won’t get you to that level. The peak is only reachable after a lifetime of dedication. If you try to match a crane as a mere sparrow, you’ll split yourself in half."

He was harsh, almost dousing their budding enthusiasm. Yet, strangely, every cadet listened intently to his words. His raw, unvarnished truth was for their benefit—any fool could see that.

"Gyeong has more flaws than benefits. Why? Because if you slack off for even a day, you’ll weaken. This technique relies on physical capability, so you must keep that in mind."

"And it doesn’t stop there. While martial techniques adapt with age and physical capacity, gyeong only becomes more of a burden after your physical peak. It’s a technique dependent on physical strength."

"...The more you use it, the more likely you’ll break bones and tear muscles. You’ll constantly need to consider how to distribute your power. Use it recklessly, and you’re bound to self-destruct."

His warnings were harsh, possibly even discouraging.

And yet…

"—Still, if there’s one advantage…"

The one advantage he mentioned made them all pay attention, as if this could counterbalance all the drawbacks.

"If you have no talent, you can still succeed with ‘effort and perseverance.’ That’s a guarantee."

Sometimes, sincerity had a way of moving hearts more than any polished speech.

At least, they believed he wouldn’t deceive them.

"And it won’t shorten your lifespan like martial techniques used by mercenaries or guilds. That’s more than enough."

"We’re grateful for that."

"Knowing we have a chance, that we can become strong… That alone is enough for me."

"Thank you, Instructor!"

Every cadet bowed deeply, their heads practically touching the ground in gratitude. The training had been grueling and painful, but he had given them a chance to grasp at the heels of those who were far ahead. That alone filled them with happiness and gratitude.

—Sincerely.

"These kids…."

Ihan felt a warm fuzziness. He couldn’t help but brush his nose. Was he getting sentimental with age?

Their gratitude left a lump in his throat.

‘This is why I hate growing old.’

…It just made him more prone to tears.

So, Ihan decided to express his feelings in his own way. The best he could do for them was…

"—Alright, then, let’s get you familiar with it."

"...?"

"For the remaining ten days, I’ll hold 18-on-1 sparring sessions with you every day. Until you all master gyeong, nonstop!"

"..."

Crash.

It felt like glass shattered in their ears, though there was no glass nearby. The sound of their crushed spirits echoed as the warmth they’d felt quickly faded. Their reddening eyes returned to normal, and their gazes went flat.

What?

Wasn’t that a touching moment?

"..."

"Why are you looking at me like that?"

"...Are you really asking?"

"What?"

"Isn’t there a lack of empathy?"

"Is there anything more empathetic than making you stronger?"

"..."

"Come on, let’s go! Start with a hundred laps before sparring!"

"...Ugh."

Instructors—or perhaps professors—are indeed beings unfamiliar with human emotions.