The courtyard buzzed with energy.
It was the first time since arriving in this strange world that Itsuki had seen the entire sect gathered in one place. Disciples from all ranks filled the stone terraces surrounding the sparring ground—chattering, whispering, shouting over each other in a chaotic wave of voices.
At the center stood Elder Yu, arms folded behind his back, his expression sharp enough to cut stone. The long sleeves of his navy robe swayed in the wind as he stepped forward, his voice echoing across the field.
"Disciples of the Eastern Cloud Sect—today is the Spring Evaluation."
A hush fell instantly.
"All students must participate. Rankings will be adjusted based on performance. Those who rise may gain entry to inner classes. Those who fall…"
He let the words hang.
Everyone understood.
In Murim, failure wasn't just embarrassing—it was dangerous. Climbing higher meant better techniques, personalized training, access to cultivation pills, scrolls… and safety. Those at the bottom? Fodder.
Itsuki stood near the outer edges of the formation, his breath controlled, his fingers lightly brushing the inside of his sleeve. He had memorized 26 books from the Digital Library. His movements were smoother. His breathing techniques were stable. He could feel the faint flow of qi through his body like the low hum of a machine finally turning on.
But he was still a no-name disciple. Still "Jinhwan the Slacker" to most of the sect.
And that meant—
"Match 7," a disciple announced. "Jinhwan versus Sun Taek."
A ripple of laughter rolled through the crowd.
Sun Taek was a rising star among the outer disciples—bigger, stronger, faster. Rumor had it he was the son of a provincial warlord and already had experience with sword combat before joining the sect.
"Aw, come on!" someone jeered. "Don't send poor Jinhwan to the infirmary on a festival day!"
"Maybe he'll trip and end it early!"
Itsuki ignored them.
He stepped into the ring.
Sun Taek grinned as he walked onto the stone platform, rolling his shoulders, a wooden practice blade slung lazily across his back.
"You sure you're ready for this, Jinhwan? You look a little pale," he said, voice dripping with mock concern.
Itsuki didn't reply.
He stood still.
He let the wind rush through the courtyard.
He let the noise fade.
He let everything fall quiet in his head.
Crane Flow Method—activated. His breath drew in, circulated, and released. His posture aligned. His feet adjusted to Iron Root Stance, sinking into the ground like he was rooted to the stone.
Elder Yu raised one hand.
"Begin."
Sun Taek moved first, fast and confident, swinging the practice sword in a wide horizontal arc meant to knock Itsuki off balance right from the start.
Itsuki didn't block.
He stepped back—just enough to let the blade pass inches from his chest. Then, while Sun Taek's body was still twisted from the momentum, he stepped forward.
His right foot landed.
Pivot. Strike. Redirect.
His hand came down like a falling blade.
CRACK.
A clean palm strike connected with Sun Taek's rib.
The older disciple stumbled backward, caught off guard more by the speed and precision than the force.
"What—?"
Itsuki didn't give him time to think.
He moved again—Flowing Palm, a movement learned from a recently unlocked book. Not a full martial technique, but enough to teach timing, weight shifting, and strike follow-through.
His hands glided like water. He struck low, feinted high, then turned on his heel and spun behind his opponent.
He drove his elbow into Sun Taek's lower back.
The crowd gasped.
Sun Taek stumbled, caught himself, then growled and surged forward, this time swinging with full force.
Itsuki ducked under the blade, dropped into Low Sweep Form, and kicked his opponent's legs out from under him.
Sun Taek hit the ground hard, dust bursting up around him.
Elder Yu raised a hand.
"Winner: Jinhwan."
Silence.
Then whispers.
Then confusion.
Itsuki backed away slowly, returning to the edge of the courtyard, heart pounding like a drum in his ears. The techniques had worked—but barely. His limbs were aching. His strikes weren't as strong as they could've been. He had relied purely on timing and angles.
But it worked.
He won.
He didn't even realize he was smiling until someone stepped in front of him.
A girl—no older than him. Pale eyes. Quiet demeanor. Her outer robe was marked with a silver pin, indicating she was already an inner disciple.
"You weren't fighting like Jinhwan," she said softly.
Itsuki blinked. "What?"
"You fight like someone who learned how to fight through books."
He froze.
"I—"
"I know because I used to be like that too," she added. "Before I awakened."
She turned to leave, then paused.
"But be careful. This world doesn't like things that don't follow the script."
That night, the system updated again.
Progress: 30 / 100 Books ReadPassive Unlocked: Movement Memory Boost (Tier 1)Your body begins to naturally retain forms and stances, slightly improving speed of learning through physical repetition.
Notice:
"You have deviated from the expected behavior of Soul Signature: Jinhwan. Divergence Level: 7%""Caution: Excessive divergence may lead to Memory Recoil."
Memory Recoil?Itsuki frowned.
Something told him… he didn't want to find out what that means.