Chapter 2:
The Magic Noble House’s Failure (1)
Laban, who had been meditating in the lotus position, let out a deep breath and opened his eyes.
‘Finally, I’ve formed my dantian. Has it been 15 years already…?’
Fifteen years had passed since Muheul of the Central Plains martial world began a new life in the body of a stillborn child named Raven! During that time, Raven had worked tirelessly.
First, he exhausted all his spiritual power to revive the dead body. Thanks to that, he avoided dying again immediately after being reborn.
Though he survived, the body’s damage was severe. Even moving his limbs required intense concentration, which delayed learning to walk.
It was a blessing he hadn’t lost his memories. Raven started everything from scratch based on the memories of his past life.
He used every training method that could aid his recovery. He didn’t discriminate between Buddhist, Taoist, or Indian techniques. As a result, he was now healthy and robust to an unbelievable degree for a body that had once died.
And over fifteen years, Raven cultivated the martial arts and inner alchemy of his past life.
Through such unceasing effort, he had finally formed his dantian.
Observing his inner self, Raven felt satisfied. Unlike in his past life, cultivating the optimal inner energy technique from zero had a significant effect.
‘Perhaps because I poured my heart and soul into it, even though I’ve just formed the inner elixir, my inner energy is not insignificant. This will shorten the time needed to achieve the great technique.’
Even if it was unavoidable, the result of performing the incomplete great technique had been brutal. He lost his physical body and nearly had his soul obliterated.
So this time, he had to complete the great technique perfectly. One such mistake was enough.
The function of the great technique also needed to be changed. Not to become an immortal and go to the immortal realm, but to return to the Central Plains.
‘I must return and tear those bastards to pieces to offer before the Great Master’s spirit.
Even if the Great Master has achieved Buddhahood and would show mercy, not even my sword will spare them.’
That resolve had sustained the Muheul within Laban for 15 years. The same resolve would sustain him for 150 more.
Having completed the Great Heavenly Cycle, Raven got up to fill his empty stomach instead of his brimming dantian.
A ‘Bigu’ pill would have been nice, but this world lacked such an excellent artifact.
“Is anyone outside?”
“Did you call, young master?”
A servant responded immediately when Laban called.
Laban ordered some snacks from him. But the servant returned empty-handed.
“Young Master Laban. Young Master Chava has come to visit.”
“Sigh.”
Chava was Laban’s half-brother. Although an older brother, the age difference was barely over half a year.
“Which brother did he fight this time?”
“He sparred with Young Master Vela at the Third Training Ground.”
“He lost narrowly?”
“Yes. I heard he lost by a very narrow margin.”
“He’ll be more irritable than usual. Alright. I’ll be right down.”
Raven was the seventh among the male siblings and the eleventh among all siblings.
The succession system of Laban’s family, the House of Barazulat, allowed even the youngest daughter to become the next Duke if she proved her capability.
And every child of the Duke participated in the succession competition, whether they wanted to or not. That was the principle.
Laban had long ago expressed his lack of interest in succession rights. To this day, he had no faction and no achievements.
Posing no threat as a competitor, no one bothered to check him. That much went according to plan.
But Chava wasn’t here to check on Raven.
“Younger brother Raven pays his respects.”
“Why are you so late?!”
“My apologies.”
His body was slender enough to seem bendable by the wind, and his face, pale from less sun, fit the description of a feeble scholar perfectly.
Yet his temper was such that even a mountain bandit would say, ‘Hey, aren’t we brothers?’
Even after making the effort to greet him formally, all he got back was a rude shout. If Muheul’s brother had been like this, he would have smashed his head in.
But he was someone he wouldn’t see again after completing the great technique. Not considering him family, Raven felt no urge to scold him.
“What brings you to visit me today?”
“What reason could I have for seeking out a fool like you? It’s to teach your stupid self a little. Come out to the training ground.”
The word ‘teach’ didn’t mean ordinary study.
The foremost quality a Barazulat successor needed was not scholarship, politics, or diplomacy.
Such things only needed to be learned well enough to distinguish good from bad. With that level of education, one could simply find capable subordinates.
“Young master. I have prepared your staff.”
“Thank you.”
Raven’s servant had prepared what was needed before Raven even asked. It wasn’t the first or second time, so he had been ready since Chava’s arrival.
Laban put on thickly padded, sturdy clothes and received the staff. It was a short, unadorned brown staff.
The moment the staff touched his hand, the natural energies gathered around it.
Depending on how it was refined, this could become the inner energy for casting arts or the magical power for casting spells.
What Laban was confident in was the former, but what he needed now was the latter.
Magic! Only the most outstanding wizard was qualified to lead the Barazulat family.
The siblings participating in the succession competition interacted in various ways, testing and honing each other’s skills.
“Prepare yourself.”
“I am ready.”
“Hey! Take charge of the start signal.”
“Yes, young master. Then…”
The servant acting as referee blew a military trumpet vigorously. Simultaneously, Raven began preparing his magic.
“Wandering powers, surround me, become a sturdy wall, repel the danger.”
Laban recited the incantation like a poem. In response to his verbal command, magical power gathered, forming a shield around him.
It was too thin. A shield thinner than paper made little difference whether it existed or not.
Even Laban, who had cast it, knew. But if he did nothing, Chava would get even more irritated, so he had to go through the motions.
Chava didn’t bother with an incantation. Instead, he just flicked and waved the tip of his staff.
That single motion alone caused magical energy to coalesce at the staff’s tip, forming several sparkling magical bolts.
Motion-casting was simpler and faster compared to verbal incantations but weaker in power.
Moreover, knowing Laban’s skill, Chava shot only the weakest, non-lethal magical bolts.
Laban’s shield popped and burst upon contact with just one of those weak bolts. The following bolts struck Raven’s body in rapid succession.
It wasn’t particularly dangerous. Even standing still, the inner energy from his dantian moved along his body’s central meridian, protecting him.
‘Pretending to be hurt when it doesn’t even hurt is also a chore.’
Laban pretended to be in pain, pretending to laboriously compose a new spell. However, Raven’s acting talent was only on par with his magical talent.
“This bastard’s magic hasn’t improved at all, only his toughness has!”
Raven acted his best, throwing his body sideways. Seeing this, Chava swung his staff more irritably.
‘Why is he being more bothersome than usual?’
Raven wished to cultivate quietly until he completed the great technique. But it seemed Chava wouldn’t leave him be.
This time, magical bolts flew in before Raven could even finish his magic shield. Raven raised his arms to cover his face, taking all the hits on his body.
“Cough!“
He even let out a cough and rolled twice on the grass. Wouldn’t it be fine to stop now, knowing he was satisfied?
Sadly, Raven’s wish didn’t come true. Chava swung his staff with even greater vigor.
“You little shit! Let’s see how much you can take!”
The magical energy gathering before Chava was unusual. His irritation was fully reflected in his magic.
It wasn’t the usual mindset of ‘I’ll torment him.’ Faced with clear, hostile intent to harm, Raven acted as his long training dictated.
—Whoosh!
Inner energy erupted from his dantian and split into two along his meridians. One flowed to the Laogong point in his palm center, the other to the Yongquan point in his sole.
Raven planted his body firmly on the ground and discharged palm force. Everything happened in an instant and ended just as quickly.
The incoming magical arrows shattered into pieces. Magical power scattered in all directions, refracting light and whipping up a whirlwind.
It was a mystifying spectacle, almost beautiful. Within the splintering light, time seemed to stop.
What actually stopped wasn’t time, but people. Both Chava, who had fired the magic, and the servants watching were frozen, unable to comprehend the situation.
‘Oops, I made a mistake, reacting to the hostility I haven’t felt in so long.’
He couldn’t undo what had happened. Since it came to this, he had to end it swiftly.
Chava’s frozen state was the opportunity. Raven concentrated energy in his legs and charged forward in one burst.
Raven dashed, skimming the ground like a gliding shadow. By the time Chava barely grasped the situation, Raven was already within arm’s reach.
“Urgh, torrent of power, become a wall!”
Chava swung his staff with his right hand, formed a hand seal with his left, and simultaneously recited an incantation aloud.
Despite being a hastily formed, short incantation, its power was full. Chava shot eight magical bolts in a scatter pattern, deployed a defensive wall, and flung his body backward.
Raven took the bolts on his body and dashed forward, catching up to Chava in an instant. Though the defensive wall blocked his way, he swung his elbow with his charging momentum, shattering the wall in one blow.
‘Subdue him as quickly as possible.’
He had to finish while Chava was still disoriented. If Chava regained his composure and assumed a real combat stance, then regardless of victory or defeat, it would mean big trouble.
As the wall broke, a startled Chava reflexively raised his arms to shield himself. Such reflexive actions were prime targets for martial arts, timeless and universal.
Raven extended his elbow and hooked Chava’s wrist. He pulled the arm sharply, disrupting Chava’s motion-casting while also preventing his escape.
Chava’s left flank was fully exposed to Raven’s front. Chava tried to aim the staff tip at Raven, but his own body got in the way, preventing proper aim.
Raven gave him no time to utter a spell and struck Chava’s ribs hard.
“Hurk!“
Having no intention to seriously harm him, he didn’t use any technique to damage the internal organs.
It was a simple punch using only the upper body. Chava, unskilled in physical combat, couldn’t withstand even that.
‘I… I can’t breathe.’
A single blow forced all the air from his lungs. Paralyzed by pain, he couldn’t even inhale.
His mind went blank. The thousands of incantations stuffed into his head until now all fled.
While he couldn’t think of what to do, Raven threw a second punch.
A downward punch from above. With his left hand already subdued, Chava had no way to block the attack coming from his left.
The moment the fist connected with his chin, his head snapped around. Chava’s eyes rolled back as he lost consciousness.
“Young master!”
Chava’s servants were startled and rushed over. The guard-servant blocked Laban’s path, placing his hand on his sword hilt.
Even if he didn’t draw his sword immediately, it was a signal that he could at any moment. Raven raised both hands and stepped back.
While it looked like surrender, it was actually a posture from which he could instantly subdue both of the opponent’s arms if they drew their sword.
Fortunately, such an unfortunate incident didn’t occur. The servant reproached Raven not with force but with words.
“Fists?! How could a direct descendant of Barazulat engage in such vulgar behavior! This matter will be reported to His Grace the Duke as well!”
“That can’t be helped.”
He had expected that much. Having acted on the judgment to end it quickly, he had no regrets.
The real problem wasn’t parental reprimand. It was the potential perception that Raven, by defeating Chava, had revealed ambitions for the succession rights.
‘The issue is needlessly stimulating their competitive spirit and having my training time taken away. Being checked and not receiving necessary supplies would also be troublesome.’
Already poor at magic, it was difficult for Raven to obtain anything personally beyond essential supplies. The budget allocated to Laban was that small.
Completing the great technique in the future would require rare materials. Having that process hindered would be a headache.
‘Should I actively participate in the succession competition to gain status? No, even if I mimic with martial arts and Taoist arts, I’m ultimately not orthodox here. Rising high would be impossible.’
Worries piled up. But before he could find a suitable solution, new news found Raven first.
“Laban of Barazulat. By the decision of the Barazulat Grand Council, your rights of succession are hereby stripped.”
“Uh, thank you?”
