After winding their way through a maze of narrow alleyways, Hwaryun came to an abrupt halt. Without a word, she turned and stepped into what appeared to be an inconspicuous opening in the stone wall—a narrow passage that led into the darkness.
Baam followed closely, his footsteps echoing behind hers as the path sloped downward. The air grew cooler, damper. Eventually, the passage opened into a vast subterranean chamber.
Baam's eyes widened.
The chamber was immense and otherworldly. Faint light pulsed across the walls, emitted by strands of bioluminescent seaweed that clung to the stone like veins of living light. Water trickled from above, dripping rhythmically from jagged stalactites to form tiny pools on the ground. The ceiling arched high above them, a cathedral of shadows.
Hwaryun turned to face him.
"This will be your training ground," she said. "You'll remain here for the next few months. I'll be overseeing your progress myself."
Baam looked around once more, his gaze lingering on the eerie glow and the cold stone underfoot. Then he turned to her, eyes steady.
"What should I do first?"
Hwaryun smiled slightly, as if pleased by his directness. "Let's start by testing your current level. Try to hit me."
Without hesitation, Baam nodded. He launched forward with a quick punch.
Hwaryun swayed aside effortlessly, her movements fluid, almost lazy.
Baam followed up with a flurry of blows—punches, feints, then kicks. Each one missed. She didn't counterattack; she didn't even retreat. She simply moved, graceful and untouchable.
He kept going, his movements becoming more desperate, more forceful. Sweat beaded on his brow. His breath grew ragged. Still, she remained a ghost before him—there, and then not.
Eventually, Baam staggered back, panting. His shoulders heaved with each breath.
"You didn't even try to hit back," he said between gasps. "Why can't I land a single strike? Are you even taking this seriously?"
Hwaryun tilted her head, her smile faint and unreadable. "Do you think I'm a Regular just because we happened to take some tests in the same place?"
Baam frowned. "Aren't you? How else would you be climbing the Tower?"
She shook her head. "Being a Regular means taking the official tests assigned by the administrators on each floor. That's not how I move through the Tower. I've never taken a single exam."
Baam's brow furrowed. "Then how are you allowed to stay?"
"I don't climb like the others. I'm a Red Witch—born within the Inner Tower itself."
Baam took a step back, surprised. He had heard the name before, but never met one in person.
Hwaryun's expression hardened slightly. "Enough talk. Let's move on."
She shifted her stance. "Watch closely. I'll demonstrate some movements—you follow."
Baam nodded again, more focused now.
Hwaryun began a sequence of deliberate poses—fluid transitions of posture, stance, and breath. Her limbs moved with precision and grace, as if every motion held meaning beyond its physical form.
She repeated the sequence several times. Then she moved into a new set of forms, these ones sharper, more forceful.
Baam followed. Awkwardly at first, but with growing awareness. He mirrored her footwork, mimicked the flow of her arms, and adjusted his balance as she guided him, silently, through each shift in rhythm.
---
An hour passed in silence, broken only by the occasional drip of water echoing through the vast subterranean chamber.
Baam finally came to a halt, breath ragged, sweat clinging to his skin. Muscles aching, he dropped onto a worn stone ledge, his limbs too heavy to move any further. The coolness of the stone seeped into his back as he leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath.
Just as his heartbeat began to slow, a faint chime rang in the air.
A translucent blue screen materialized before his eyes.
>> System Notice
Skill Acquired: Hwaryun-style Martial Arts Movements
Skill Level: Entry
Efficiency: 2%
Baam blinked at the message, momentarily stunned. Then he remembered—the system. It had been with him since the early stages of his journey, silently tracking his progress, quantifying his growth in ways even he didn't fully understand.
Curious, he reached out and tapped the "Skills" tab. A list unfolded before him, glowing softly in the dark.
>> Skill Proficiency Overview
Reverse Flow Control: 5%
Basic Shinsu Control: 52%
Hatz-Style Sword Basics: 40%
Shibisu-Style Techniques: 98%
Hoh-Style Movements: 95%
Khun-Style Strategy and Reflex: 92%
Endorsi-Style Agility: 57%
Hwaryun-style Martial Arts: 2%
He scrolled further and tapped on the "Buffs" section. The screen adjusted, revealing numerical indicators of the passive enhancements he had accumulated through training.
>> System Status Update
Basic Sword Wielding Efficiency: 40%
Basic Combat Efficiency: 78%
Basic Shinsu Control Efficiency: 55%
Note:
Efficiency is determined by the methods you've acquired. It provides a proportional bonus to related actions.
Example: 52% Shinsu Control Efficiency means that the fundamental output, speed, and precision of your Shinsu-based attacks are increased by 52%.
Baam closed the windows and stared at his palm thoughtfully.
"Let's test it," he murmured.
Concentrating, he gathered Shinsu into his hand. It surged obediently to his will, forming a small, compact sphere of glowing blue energy. He raised his arm and released it.
The Baang flew across the chamber, striking the far wall with a soft thud before dispersing into light.
Baam exhaled slowly.
"I see..." he thought. The system doesn't just measure how powerful my technique is. It also reflects how efficiently I can use it—how naturally it flows, how little energy it takes to produce, how quickly I can deploy it under pressure.
Creating a Baang usually required significant focus, especially in battle where every moment mattered. But now, he had summoned it with ease—reflexively, without strain.
The progress was small, but unmistakable.
He leaned back again, eyes on the ceiling, and let the silence settle around him once more.
---
Baam quietly kept track of his progress, replaying each movement in his mind—what worked, what didn't, where his form slipped. The system helped quantify his growth, but it was his intuition and instinct that were slowly sharpening through repetition.
Just then, a sharp voice cut through the chamber.
"Baam!"
Hwaryun's shout snapped him out of his thoughts.
He barely had time to react before she was upon him again.
Driven by reflex, Baam surged forward to attack. His footwork was cleaner now, his timing tighter. He aimed a swift punch toward her center.
Hwaryun moved like smoke in the wind—evasive, elusive, untouchable. She sidestepped the strike with effortless grace.
Then, without warning, her staff lashed out.
Crack!
The wooden pole slammed into Baam's side. A jolt of pain surged through him, and he stumbled back with a cry.
"What the hell was that?!" Baam gasped, clutching his ribs.
Hwaryun didn't flinch. Her tone was ice.
"You think your enemies will just sit there and take your hits? They'll fight back. And they won't be nearly as patient as I'm being right now."
She took a step forward, leveling the staff at him.
"If you hesitate, you die. If you let your guard down, you die. That's the Tower's rule. I'm doing you a favor by showing no mercy."
Baam's teeth clenched, but he pushed himself upright, wiping sweat from his brow.
Hwaryun smirked faintly. "That's more like it."
She twirled her staff with a casual air, then lunged forward again.
The training resumed—brutal, relentless. Baam fought back, dodging and countering as best he could. But her strikes came fast and unpredictable, and he took more hits than he landed. His body bore the bruises, but his resolve only hardened.
This woman's insane, Baam thought grimly, narrowly ducking a swing. She's trying to kill me...
And still, in between flurries of attacks, she instructed.
"Lower your center of gravity when you move."
"Don't telegraph your punches."
"Stop watching me. Watch the rhythm."
Each critique struck as sharply as her staff.
Days passed in the dim chamber, marked only by exhaustion and aching muscles. But slowly, something began to shift.
Baam's movements grew faster, more efficient. He no longer flinched at the incoming blows. His reflexes sharpened. His instincts whispered before her strikes landed. He began to flow.
The pain didn't lessen—but he was learning to dance with it.
And in the silence between each spar, beneath the bruises and sweat, a new strength began to awaken.
---
Two months passed.
The days blurred together, an endless rhythm of exertion and repetition. Baam's world shrank to a cycle of training, rest, meditation, and more training. Hwaryun was relentless, and so was he.
His body bore the marks of the effort—bruises faded only to be replaced, muscles ached only to grow stronger.
Then, one day, in the quiet space after his morning regimen, a blue window materialized before him once more.
>> Skill Proficiency Overview
Reverse Flow Control: 5%
Basic Shinsu Control: 60%
Hatz-Style Sword Basics: 40%
Shibisu-Style Techniques: 100%
Hoh-Style Movements: 100%
Khun-Style Strategy and Reflex: 100%
Endorsi-Style Agility: 100%
Hwaryun-style Martial Arts: 100%
Baam exhaled slowly. Every technique had been sharpened to its limit.
He spoke aloud, half to himself and half to the presence behind the screen.
"System... can I keep improving my skills beyond this?"
>> System Response:
Affirmative. The Host may continue to grow by upgrading battle nodes.
"Then upgrade them," Baam said without hesitation.
>> System Response:
Request denied. Battle nodes cannot be upgraded further.
Baam frowned. "What? But you just said I could—"
>> System Clarification:
Your current methods have reached their structural limits. No further upgrades are possible in their current form.
Calculating...
Baam stared at the screen as it pulsed and shifted.
>> System Update:
A new function has been unlocked.
The "Combine Skills" feature is now available. This function allows the Host to merge compatible techniques into a unified, more powerful form.
Would you like to proceed?
Without hesitation, Baam selected "Yes."
The screen flickered, and the familiar list of mastered combat styles dissolved. In their place, a single new entry emerged.
>> Skill Update
New Skill Acquired: Core Form
Skill Level: Profound
Efficiency: 1%
>> Explanation to Host:
Level 1 – Entry Skills: Basic, foundational techniques. Reliable but limited in scope.
Level 2 – Profound Skills: Advanced techniques formed through integration and understanding. More powerful, requiring intuitive mastery and adaptability.
As the system finalized its update, a surge of sensation flooded Baam's mind.
Knowledge poured into him—not just facts, but motion, rhythm, instinct. His body reacted on its own, muscles remembering patterns they hadn't learned but somehow knew. Every technique he had studied—the precision of Khun, the speed of Endorsi, the adaptability of Shibisu, the balance of Hoh, the unpredictability of Hwaryun—had fused.
He stepped forward and moved through a flowing series of forms: balanced, swift, elegant, powerful. Where once there were fragments, now there was unity.
It didn't feel like imitation anymore. It felt like his own style. Something new.
Baam lowered his stance into a final form and held it with quiet confidence.
Then he straightened, exhaling deeply. He walked back to his resting spot, muscles relaxed, mind alert. He sat down on the stone ledge, the ever-familiar drip of water echoing around him.