I returned with the martial art of the North Sea Ice Sovereign, but there wasn’t much use for it.

A martial art I couldn’t practice. Elixirs I couldn’t consume.

And the sword she left behind—could I even wield it?

The moment I drew the blade, a bitter chill spread around me. Flesh froze at its touch, forcing me to give up.

It was an act of self-harm. Without its special sheath, I couldn’t even carry it.

For now, I decided to leave it be. Since I couldn’t use it, I chose to focus on my own abilities instead.

I had reached a stage of mastery with the first application of Single Soul Hammer: Paemyo. It was difficult to practice alone, but I now had a sparring partner.

"You're still not done with Single Soul Hammer? Even I’ve already reached the level of Gooak!"

"My progress is a bit slow."

"But your martial prowess is greater than mine, isn’t it? Aren’t you at the apex realm?"

Number 29 couldn’t understand but still accompanied me in training. After clashing swords a few times, her expression hardened.

"…How should I put this… It's kind of that, huh?"

Normally, she would throw out rude remarks without hesitation, but now she hesitated, watching my reaction.

"I think I understand what you mean by slow progress."

"Just say it as it is."

"You're absurdly slow at learning new things, huh?"

"……"

"But the techniques you’ve already mastered are insanely polished, almost barbarically so… Like a sword built through sheer effort and persistence."

She quickly understood my state and nodded.

"You’re a stubborn freak."

"Isn’t that a bit rude?"

"I'm just stating facts."

She certainly had remarkable skill, despite being much younger than me. Her achievements were already impressive.

"You know Single Soul Hammer is the fundamental form of the Gucheon Blood Demon Art, right?"

"I’m aware."

"And do you know what the four applications of Single Soul Hammer are?"

"I read about them in the manual."

"Hmm… Let’s cover the basics, then."

Even though my martial level was higher, she had no hesitation in teaching me. She didn’t mind the reversed roles.

"This will clear the debt. Got it?"

"If that’s what you wish."

She assumed a stance.

"Single Soul Hammer is a straightforward sword technique. At a glance, it seems simple. Brutal and direct swordsmanship. There are no flashy moves like illusions or feints. Instead, it’s heavy and fast, specialized in severing. However, because of its simplicity, it’s easily blocked by skilled opponents."

She swung her sword.

It was a clean execution of Single Soul Hammer.

"When a sword comes directly at you, it’s easy to counter. No matter how strong the attack, it’s useless if it doesn’t land. That’s why the creator added four variations, just like how Ghostly Spirit Steps introduced its unique forms. Stand before me."

"Is this distance fine?"

"Yes, this is good."

Number 29 pointed her sheathed sword at me at a slant.

"Let’s start with the first form, Paemyo. Mastering this will allow you to move on. Watch carefully. What is Paemyo? It’s a counterstrike. You observe the opponent’s attack and then respond. Now, how far apart are we?"

"About two steps, close enough to close the gap."

"Paemyo is an extreme counter technique. You predict the opponent’s sword trajectory and strike in response. A simultaneous evasion and attack. The closer the gap, the higher the chances of success."

"…It doesn’t seem like something that can be used in every situation."

"You need to grasp the opponent’s flow of movement before using it. If successful, you can inflict critical damage, but failure means losing your head."

She gestured for me to attack. I unsheathed my sword and swung it toward her.

The second form of the Gucheon Blood Demon Art: Single Soul Hammer.

But just as I extended my sword, she ducked under its trajectory and struck at my waist.

The sequence of movements left no time to react.

A sharp pain shot through my side.

"…Kgh!"

"I could counter easily because I’m familiar with the technique. The essence of this application lies in understanding your opponent."

We clashed swords again. After a few more exchanges, I began to grasp the form and mimicked her movements, albeit clumsily.

Having a sparring partner was undoubtedly beneficial. It allowed me to test the techniques I could use.

Initially, Number 29 humored me, but her complexion grew paler with each passing day. Eventually, she snapped at me.

"You crazy training maniac! Don’t you know when to stop?!"

"It’s only been six sijins."

"Only six?! My body can’t take this!"

When she refused to spar, I reviewed what I had learned. After a month, I started to feel more in tune with the sword.

We clashed again, limiting our internal energy.

My sheathed blade struck her sword, throwing her balance off.

"Why are you so ridiculously strong?!"

Thwack!

The impact of the sheath disrupted her stance, leaving an opening.

I moved instinctively, closing the gap as she had taught me during our first lesson on Paemyo. Predicting the distance, reading the form, and moving precisely.

Everything aligned. I slipped past her blade and struck her waist.

Smack!

Number 29 collapsed to the ground.

"Ah, that hurts!"

"…Seems I still lack strength."

"What strength?! Have you been secretly training your external martial arts?"

"The form of Ghostly Spirit Steps inherently aids external training, doesn’t it?"

"Who the hell practices to this extent?! You could’ve moved on to the next form by now!"

"Ilma often said something to me."

"What? What did she say?!"

"Strength obtained easily always comes with a cost."

She had always told me to lay a solid foundation.

"If you don’t want to die, stop wielding a sword and just throw punches."

"…There’s no way Ilma speaks like that! How dignified she is! Don’t tarnish her reputation!"

Living in a fantasy, I see.

I turned my head, deciding it was best not to shatter her illusions.

"I’ll continue practicing Paemyo."

"What about the other forms? At this rate, you’ll be a skeleton by the time you master the entire Gucheon Blood Demon Art."

"I’d like to learn the other forms as well. I think we can help each other."

"Ugh. Fine. Go grab two wooden sticks the length of a sword."

Following her instruction, I returned with two sticks. She took one and began teaching.

The second form, Macha.

The third form, Gooak.

The final form, Pyolim.

Through relentless training, we both grew stronger, pushing each other forward. By the end, we stood ready for the next challenge.

Then came the voice, cold and commanding:

"Number 29. Number 30."

It was a familiar voice.

"Mission time."