Chapter 07 …
The Legend of the Devil-Born Martial God
What had he even been doing all this time?
Obviously—wasting his time.
He’d been stupid.
He’d created an enemy that didn’t even exist and swung his shovel at thin air all by himself.
“Are you saying the Jinmu Clan has nothing to worry about?”
“Yes. If any sect wants to become enemies with the Heavenly Martial Fortress, they’d have to be insane to pick a fight.”
A strange hollowness washed over him.
As the tension drained from his body, so did his strength.
During that time, he had checked the dates—wishing it would grow faster.
But he had mistaken it for Hongryeok.
What he thought was the 12th year of Manmu was actually the 12th year of Hongryeok.
Not confirming the era name had been a major mistake.
Pffft—
A laugh slipped out.
Whatever the case, it meant the Jinmu Clan had no real problems.
Then… could he actually start living comfortably?
Yes.
At least until he became an adult, he could live like someone his age.
His younger brother would be the heir anyway.
Since he wasn’t inheriting the clan, all he had to do was take it easy and enjoy his life.
While receiving his parents’ love.
After confirming he had neither regressed nor reincarnated, Jeok Wigang stopped worrying about the Jinmu Clan.
Then he devoured every book he could find in search of something to replace the inner power he didn’t have.
It was very inconvenient living without inner power.
Whether it was making pills or crafting weapons for fun,
he needed inner power to control the strength of the flame.
Without it, nothing came out right.
Previously, the Four Heavenly Demons had taken turns inserting inner power for him, so it hadn’t been a problem.
Now Taechun helped him, but he couldn’t call him every time.
And with Taechun around, he couldn’t make anything properly anyway.
He didn’t want to reveal his talents.
If he did, they’d definitely try to make him the heir.
He was determined to hide it until his brother secured that position.
He wanted to live freely, bound to nothing.
In any case, to solve his inconveniences, he read every book he could find—but nothing worked.
He read old classics, countless ancient texts—nothing could replace martial arts.
He even went beyond Central Plains classics and touched books from other countries.
And then one day—
He happened to pick up an old text.
A book from a country called Pasa.
The book, filled with an unfamiliar script, stirred his curiosity.
For some reason, he felt this book contained what he sought.
So he learned the language of Pasa.
Once he understood the language, he learned what the book was.
A magic tome.
A book containing techniques called magic.
It was disappointing.
Sorcery ultimately required a dantian as well.
Still, since he struggled to learn the language, he decided to read it thoroughly.
But it was different.
Pasa’s sorcery didn’t require a dantian.
His interest reignited—but he disliked the name.
Magic?
Did that mean the art of demons?
Perhaps because he had once been called “Devil’s Seed”—the Devilborn—he hesitated.
If he mastered this, would he really become a demon?
But he was curious.
What kind of art was this?
Eventually, he decided to learn it and studied it in depth.
To use magic, a prerequisite was needed:
the formulas used to create formations had to be transformed into rings encircling the heart. These were called Seohwan (书环), written rings.
The more Seohwan one had, the stronger the cooperative and amplifying effects between the rings, allowing the heart’s stored energy to burst forth with greater force.
The increase in rings was called Seohwan Awakening, and ranks were classified by the number of rings around the heart.
The maximum achievable by humans was nine rings.
There were records of a tenth ring, but only demon dragons or abnormal dragons could achieve it.
Abnormal dragons were mythical beings—giant lizard-like creatures with massive wings that breathed fire.
Different from the dragons known in this world—thus called “abnormal dragons.”
Magic was said to be modeled after the abilities used by dragons.
Anyway, the increase in rings was essentially the same as rising through martial realms.
More rings meant a higher realm.
Using the heart’s energy to carve formations—
it was all very novel.
Not easy, of course.
It was the first time he encountered such a method, and he had no idea where to begin.
Magic was said to open up an infinite world.
By combining the four elements that made up the world, one could create or manifest anything they wished.
Just by reading, it sounded like gaining omnipotent power.
And unlike the five elements (Wuxing), the four-element system was intriguing.
Wait—wouldn’t adding the Five Elements create even greater magic?
If he created completely new magic, then it wouldn’t be devilish sorcery.
Because it would be something entirely of his own creation.
Suddenly, he felt a surge of motivation.
To do that, he needed to master magic perfectly.
He searched everywhere, collecting all books related to the magic of Pasa and devoured them.
Magic worked like this:
The rings revolving around the heart absorbed nature’s energy →
that energy traveled to the mouth →
produced sound →
which manifested as magic when spoken.
Every time one added a ring, the formula grew more complex, and the pressure on the heart increased.
Thus, those who mastered magic rarely lived long.
Increasing rings was life-threatening.
A single mistake in the formula could cause the energy to rampage and burst the heart.
And once someone learned magic, they could never return to how they were before.
To properly use magic, one needed intelligence capable of solving formulas instantly. But those with such intelligence tended to be physically weak.
And with already weak bodies, plus strain on the heart—they died early.
If one didn’t want to die early, they had to create the fourth ring and permanently maintain healing magic on the heart.
Even then, the strain remained, and lifespan inevitably shortened.
Those who failed to reach the fourth ring died within ten years.
But once learned, magic was incredibly convenient.
Healing magic alone was broken beyond belief.
Jeok Wigang became completely absorbed in this magic.
He had an invincible body and overwhelming strength,
but the lack of inner power was inconvenient—magic could solve that.
Although magic strained the heart, he doubted it would affect him much.
He began mastering magic in earnest.
Not with the four elements in the book—
but using the Five Elements of Central Plains to create his own version.
Naturally, the risks grew.
The formulas were far more complex.
If even one part was off, the heart would explode.
And in fact, when forming the second ring after the first, the formula failed and a shockwave erupted.
The shock was so intense that his body shook and all his clothes were blown off.
A normal person would’ve exploded and died on the spot.
But not Jeok Wigang.
He wasn’t harmed—no pain, nothing.
Thanks to that, he became certain:
The side effects of magic didn’t affect him at all.
After that, Jeok Wigang became bold.
Since mistakes caused no harm, he challenged and challenged again.
Normally, one would triple-check each complex formula, verifying accuracy before carving it into the heart. But Jeok Wigang skipped all of that.
He just carved everything.
What was the result?
He succeeded in creating new magic based on the Five Elements.
The new magic could be manifested through incantations, much like sorcery.
Once he overcame the first hurdle, things grew familiar, and the rings around his heart increased rapidly.
He often restarted from scratch due to errors during ring creation, but in the end, the flaws were perfectly corrected, making the rings more refined—stronger and sturdier.
Now, seven rings roared around Jeok Wigang’s heart.
He could add more, but that wasn’t important.
What mattered now was creating incantations that used the power of these rings.
The Five-Element True Incantation Art.
That was the name Jeok Wigang decided to give his newly created magic.
To others, explaining all this would be annoying, so he planned to just call it a combination of magic and sorcery—Magical Arts.
People would probably assume it was just sorcery.
Jeok Wigang went to a secluded place to practice his Five-Element True Incantation Art.
“Let’s start with the basic magic spells from the magic tome.”
He converted basic spells into his Five-Element True Incantation.
One such one-ring spell was Fire Bullet Art.
“Fire energy, respond—bestow the life of the bullet.”
As he murmured the incantation, a head-sized sphere wrapped in flame appeared in the air.
A gesture of his hand sent the fireball flying toward its target—
and it exploded.
BOOM—
Fwoosh—
A grin broke out.
He could use something like martial arts even without inner power.
The power was weak—
but that was by his standard.
A massive tree was burning fiercely.
Watching the flaming tree, Jeok Wigang uttered another incantation:
“Water energy, condense—become the breaking flow.”
Moisture condensed above his head,
quickly forming a mass of water suspended midair.
He gestured again, sending it shooting toward the burning tree, extinguishing it instantly.
Ssshhh—
Tssss—
It was fun.
He could create anything.
His heart raced.
What should he create next?
Jeok Wigang was gradually falling deeper into the world of magic.
Three years passed while he lived immersed in magic.
He was now eleven years old.
During that time, he modified and created many Five-Element Incantations.
Not only could he cast them, but he could use them to deploy formations, inscribe spell formulas onto weapons and pills,
and even etch spells into people to track them.
He no longer needed to follow scents to find someone.
Magic—no, the Five-Element True Incantation Art—had made Jeok Wigang’s life truly convenient.
He could now fly through the sky, freely control fire,
infuse his sword with elemental energy for spectacular swordplay,
and even empower his fists to mimic true martial arts.
Granted, the Five-Element Incantations themselves weren’t that powerful.
He mostly used them for fun.
But unlike before when a single punch ended everything, he could now enjoy more entertaining battles.
Today was the day he would use the Five-Element Incantation Art in actual combat for the first time.
After barely shaking off Taechun, he was heading toward a notorious bandit stronghold.
Jeok Wigang was now eleven years old—and still looked like a child.
