The Demon Lord of the Swordsmanship Family Episode 109
The Academy had declared this raid on the underground organizations as a “field lesson.” They sent the students to various regions, simply to experience what the “Night” truly was—under the guise of learning.
However, this was not the only oddity.
Why was it called a “lesson”?
They were going to clash with opponents wielding real power. There would be resistance, and there was certainly an inherent risk involved. Shouldn’t this have been classified as “support,” “deployment,” or at least “practical training”?
Yet, it was merely a lesson.
This was to be treated like any other educational process, with the only difference being the addition of the term “field” to signify a shift in location.
Why?
The Academy, which took the safety of its students so seriously, was unusually casual about this operation. Why?
The answer was simple.
Because, in reality, it was that easy.
Every year, the population of superhumans increased, yet the Academy’s enrollment quotas remained unchanged. While anyone who awakened to their mana would undoubtedly apply for admission, the acceptance rate grew lower and lower.
That alone proved something — being an Academy student was proof of talent.
Students who cried over poor grades would be sought after by countless admirers outside its gates. Even those who trembled in fear of Park Ki-hyuk would rise to become promising individuals once they left the Academy.
Such was the place.
The elite upper class, the so-called “Heavenly Tier.”
Could people of this elite Heavenly Tier really have any real competition against the petty thugs lurking in the underground?
In the face of overwhelming stats and abilities, the matter of real combat experience became meaningless.
This question’s answer was demonstrated by the results.
A 27% reduction in superhuman crime rates.
This accomplishment was achieved in just a single month of field lessons.
“d*mn!!”
KABOOM!
A towering man slammed his fist onto the table. It was Du-chil, the leader of the Bruin Gang.
“Bloody hell, this is the fifth site! Five! Five of our operations have been hit!”
“Right, ours are four down!”
The man agreeing was one of Skull Rock’s henchmen.
“Boss, is this right? Even if it’s the Academy, how can this be so one-sided?”
The one questioning now was the boss of the Zodiac.
“Everyone, quiet down a little. Isn’t it about time we had a conversation rather than screaming? Some manners, please.”
The one speaking was the boss of Night Flower.
“My whole business has been wiped out!”
“d*mn it! I invested so much into our gambling dens, and now I’m ruined!”
“Why don’t we fight back?! Why should we just keep rolling over like this?”
“Agreed! Let’s hit them! Even if it’s the Academy we’re scared of, they’re just a bunch of kids, right? Let’s take them out—”
Voices from various factions added to the chaos, turning the meeting hall into pandemonium.
And standing on the podium, watching over this madness with disdain, was a man.
A counselor who aimed to resolve everyone’s issues and lead the underground world to new prosperity.
The mentor to all these organizations—the Godfather.
And this godfather had another hidden identity—Wang Chai, the action captain of the Triad.
‘Even with the rising prices of “offerings,” do we really need to stoop so low as to use this sc*m?’
Recently, for some reason, the price of “offerings”—specifically, “Grade 1 offerings” made from souls—had skyrocketed. It was now at least five times more expensive.
Would the Triad, known for turning their hand to anything profitable, let such an opportunity slip?
They’d swiftly secured these “offerings” and had even set their sights on dominating the underground market in Korea.
Still, how could Wang Chai have known he’d get dragged so deep into this mess? With his Korean mother, he’d spent part of his youth in Korea, but he had no desire to return.
He was furious, but still, he suppressed his anger while handling the necessary duties. First, he had to calm this chaotic situation.
“Let’s all quiet down!”
Incredibly, the room fell silent instantly. The notorious gangsters obeyed his single command like obedient students.
“Are we going to have to go over this again? The Academy is not to be touched. You mess with them, and you d*e. Period.”
“f*ck! We just need to test their strength, no matter how long or short.”
“No, Du-chil. It’s obvious—long is long, and short is short. Do you need to taste to know the difference between sh*t and soybean paste? Need me to feed it to you?”
“Then, what do you suggest we do, Boss? Just keep taking it?”
“Hah, did you listen through your a**? Of course, we’re taking it. What else can you do when you’re outclassed? Hmm?”
With a frustrated expression, Wang Chai dragged a chair to the podium and sat down. Lighting a cigarette, he continued.
“Hmph, you bastards know what you are, right?”
Here, despite raising their voices like angry dogs, their reality was that of street thugs. Hunters they certainly were not—third-rate nobodies who would embarrass the very title of “hunter.”
“Still, what can you do about the Academy? They are a completely different breed. Those above the sky, those in the elite upper class. We simply play on a different field from them.”
Both in the number and quality of their abilities, they were incomparable. Even comparing them was an insult to those elites.
“Alright, so maybe a few could be taken down. They’re still human, after all. Set traps, use poison, drugs, ambush them dirtily—sure, they can be killed.”
Academy students were human too, and they would d*e from a blade to their gut just like everyone else—so there was a possibility of killing them.
“So what? What happens next?”
“k*ll ‘em.”
“Maybe he gets scared?”
“…That’s why I like you all. You’re so dumb you can’t think of anything else. Doesn’t that make people truly honest?”
With another irritated face, Wang Chai flicked away his cigarette b*tt and lit another. Spending time with these morons was impossible without nicotine.
“Listen carefully now. Just as graduates from prestigious universities excel in various sectors, Academy graduates become the backbone of the superhuman industry. Got it? What if a junior member of such a prestigious academy is killed by low-tier street punks? The moment that happens, all of us become targets.”
It was a simple fact, even obvious with some thought.
The problem was that these fools never exerted their brains.
“So what you’re saying, Boss, is that we lowlifes deserve to be beaten?”
“That’s right. We have to take it. Because that’s the rule here—strong ones get everything, weak ones lose out.”
Honestly, Wang Chai wished it all fell apart so he could return to the mainland. But if that happened, his abilities might be questioned, and the higher-ups were expecting even more “offerings.”
Thus, a sweetener had to be provided.
“However… when we’re taking it, we need to take what we can.”
At that moment…
Ssssshhhh!
A side wall of the meeting hall slid open, revealing a massive pile of something.
“Sol Drug?”
“Why drugs?”
That’s right. The substance’s true identity was a drug called “Sol Drug,” known for inducing an extreme euphoria that could leave one soulless. It was also what Park Ki-hyuk called “Soul Extractor.”
“From now on, I’ll handle the production. You spread this among the students.”
Not only could he extract souls but also find potentially useful followers.
Isn’t this what they called killing two birds with one stone?
“Superhumans are still human after all. Keep their leashes tight from a young age, and what can they do?”
Haven’t they always boasted about their reliable Korean talent? If only he could have them at his disposal.
Wang Chai chuckled sinisterly to himself.
It had been a month since the start of the field lessons.
I had come to understand how noisy the world could be and how the peace we enjoyed was upheld by the efforts of countless individuals.
However, the mystery of the “Soul Extractor” still lingered.
Incredibly, those using the substance only recognized it as a drug called “Sol Drug,” completely unaware of its true purpose in extracting souls.
To explain, the use of the Soul Extractor went like this.
In a sealed space, burn the Soul Extractor.
As it burns, smoke will rise. If one inhales that smoke, they fall asleep. During this state, souls are extracted, and the hallucinations that ensue resemble the effects of a drug.
However, while the subject experiences hallucinations, outside, the soul begins accumulating at the base of the extractor, gradually forming a white powdery crystal as the extractor burns down.
This substance is called “Soul Powder,” or “Dust” in the Empire.
Among sacrificial offerings, this was considered a high-tier one, used for advanced Black Magic and summoning high-tier creatures from the Void.
And every time an operation site was raided, this “Soul Powder” was discovered.
Each time, I would ask the same question: What is this here?
And every time, the answers were baffling.
“Huh? Isn’t that just residue?”
“Residue from burning the drugs.”
“We were told it’s residue. We were only instructed to collect it, and someone else handles the recovery…”
I lost words.
Unbelievable ignorance—these guys had ignorance for a terminal illness.
At first, I thought they were mocking me and secretly removed a few subjects to check their memories.
But they were telling the truth. They genuinely had no clue.
A few perceptive ones joked around, suspecting a deeper secret. But ultimately, without finding its proper use, they believed it to be mere residue.
Ah, that’s right—because only a Dark Sorcerer could truly wield it.
So throughout these field lessons, I roamed, attempting to trace the one behind the creation of this substance. I was curious why someone would need such a high-tier offering.
However, from a certain point onward, these organizations began to pull back. By the time the month ended, they had completely ceased their activities.
Crime rates plummeted, and all media outlets, from TV to the Internet, buzzed with updates about it.
Naturally, the Academy celebrated like a festival.
“This is irritating.”
Behind me, someone was playing tricks.
I was completely unaware of who or why.
And I couldn’t even find a trace of the perpetrator.
This uncertainty unsettled me.
“Let’s see if I can shake something out of someone if I catch them…”
*
A Saturday morning. I was about to step through a Gate.
What had once been mountains transformed before my eyes into a sea and white sandy beaches.
I’ve arrived.
Smiling contentedly, I waited for the children to follow.
“Alright, if you’re here, line up over here. This way.”
“I feel dizzy…”
“Me too, my head is spinning.”
One by one, the kids gathered before me.
“Is Spring coming?”
“No, Spring is also a student today. She has to stay here.”
“Got it.”
I smiled warmly as I gazed upon the gathered children.
All familiar faces. Indeed, they were the senior students from the Happy Orphanage who had awakened their mana.
I had mentioned it in passing before—those with means often train at Gate locations before sitting for the Academy exams.
Sense the mana, acquaint yourself with the Gate environment—it would be complicated otherwise, but if you can get here, it’s indeed the perfect place for practice.
How could I not step forward?
I’m Park Ki-hyuk. I’m the older brother, older brother, and joint uncle to all at Happy Orphanage.
Especially these kids were gems brimming with potential. They were truly outstanding—these were the type of individuals destined to shape the future of this world. And it was only right to support people like them.
And through these efforts, in the event of anything like the previous incident, they would at least be able to protect themselves.
“Yong-jun.”
“I’m here, Brother.”
“Great. Before we begin the lesson, everyone step forward.”
Following my command, the children stepped forward and spread out their hands.
“And assume the invisible chair position.”
Kneeling down as if sitting on a chair.
The foundation of lower-body training—the Martial Arts Sitting posture.
“Something that cannot be emphasized enough is physical fitness. Always focus on strengthening your bodies.”
“Yes!!”
“Good volume. Now, let’s begin today’s lesson.”
Today’s topic: “Breathing.”
“What is breathing? Generally speaking, breathing is the act of inhaling and exhaling. Something we all know, something we all do right now. However, in combat, breathing is a bit different.”
As tension rises, so does the breathing rate.
“When people are told to relax and exhale deeply, this is why. Yet, in life-or-d*ath combat, how does the breathing become? Impossible to control.”
Huff, huff, huff.
Try taking rapid breaths.
“See? Even just watching can make your breathing feel suffocating. Imagine doing it for real—your lungs will feel the strain. Now imagine trying to fight in that state. You won’t be able to unleash even a fraction of your abilities.”
I picked up Bomi who was shaking her legs.
“Uwaaa! Put me down!” she protested, though… little thing, you’ve still got a long way to go.
“So, let me teach you a proper method of breathing. It’s very simple—remember only two things.”
First.
“Do what breathing suits you.”
Second.
“Maintain a steady rhythm.”
That’s all there is to it.
Isn’t breathing easy? It’s just about finding your own pace, no matter the time or place.
At this moment, a hand shot up. It was the class captain, and one of my protégés, Kwon Yong-jun.
“Question! In China there’s something called ‘To Nap Technique’ or ‘Heart Methods,’ where breathing is different. Is that different from what we’re learning now?”
“Great question! Applause for that.”
Clap, clap, clap—
The children, still in their line-up positions, clapped their hands.
“First off, I’ve never trained in the ‘Heart Methods’ or ‘To Nap Technique’ you mentioned. But since I expected questions like this, I did some research on a few.”
And here’s my verdict.
“Terrible. It’s just that.”
The Heart Method my mother once procured—what was it called? ‘Tai Qing Method?’ Very expensive, but after a single flip-through, I returned it.
“These methods like Heart Methods or To Nap Techniques force your breathing to align with martial skills. But what did I emphasize first, Rose?”
“Um, um, um… To suit yourself.”
“Right. Breathing needs to suit yourself, your own bodies. But these methods are tailored to martial skills.”
It’s like breathing for the sake of the body turned into breathing for the sake of the martial skills.
It’s nothing short of a reversal of priorities from my perspective.
“Since Rose got the answer correct, I give her the choice—lift your right foot or your left?”
“…Can I not lift either?”
But seeing her desperate expression, I smiled.
“Nope.”
And so, we continued our martial sitting position, refining our breathing.
By the 40-minute mark, some began collapsing, so I administered potions and had them continue.
With that, the morning session ended, and we prepared for the evening exercise after a break.
While everyone sprawled on the ground for a rest, I had a chat with Yong-jun.
The boy, who would soon be of age to apply for the Academy, about how his application preparation was coming along and whether he needed anything.
In the midst of this conversation, a surprising question emerged—was he facing any difficulties?
Naturally, it was the question that had to come.
However, Yong-jun’s response was different from usual.
“Why, what’s going on? Tell Brother.”
“Hmm, well… strange people keep bothering me.”
“How so?”
“They ask if I’m interested in working and I keep refusing. They kept coming at me, so these people… they said…”
“What did they say?”
After hesitating, Yong-jun finally spoke.
“…They said I might get hurt. They suggested we settle this peacefully.”
“I see.”
Saying nothing more, I pulled out my phone and checked my schedule for Monday.
Luckily, nothing important was lined up.
“Yong-jun, you go to Gangbaek High, right?”
“Yes.”
“Let’s go to school together on Monday, Brother and you.”
I needed to see this for myself—who exactly dared to bother my kid.
Thus, an unexpected high school visit was scheduled.
