The Martial God with Psychic Powers

A body not recorded in any ancient texts or manuals.
The reason Yeon Woo Jin could leap over entire cultivation stages was because his body itself was a Transcendent Vessel.

And if he were to undergo a full metamorphosis—Rebirth Through Bone and Womb—and climb higher still, he would evolve into something even rarer: a Godlike Omnivessel.
In the process of crafting energy pills for his students, Yeon Woo Jin had unknowingly advanced into a new realm himself.
He realized it, too—and let out a quiet, incredulous laugh.

Even he had to admit, this power of his was outright absurd.
Why would the heavens grant him something like this?
It couldn’t have been without a reason.

He didn't know what that reason was—but until he found out, he was going to enjoy this gift for all it was worth.
And with that, Yeon Woo Jin completed his energy pill.
It wasn’t perfect, but it was more than good enough.

“I’ll have to head to Yakwang Hall during fieldwork to learn proper pill refinement,” he muttered to himself.
Pulling in natural energy was fine, but he wanted to try his hand at using true alchemical elixirs.
Staring down at the completed pill, Yeon Woo Jin was deep in thought.

He had created it for his comrades—for the bonds he’d formed.
And so, he gave it a name.
“Fate Pill.”

 
****
Baekyak Pavilion.

Yeon Woo Jin stood before his gathered students, distributing small, white pills into their palms.
Jang Woon eyed his with suspicion. “What is this?”
“An energy pill.”
“An energy pill? What kind?”

“I made it myself. Take it. Then start cultivating immediately.”
The moment he said he had made it, every single one of them swallowed hard.
This wasn’t just anyone’s pill. It was Yeon Woo Jin’s.

And he didn’t just call it a pill—he’d called it a spiritual energy pill.
That meant it wasn’t something you could find in a shop.
Holding their breaths, the students placed the pill on their tongues.

The moment it entered their mouths, it melted instantly—like snow on the tongue—and slid down their throats.
“Ghhkk—!”
Heat surged through their bodies like wildfire.

Each one sat cross-legged, clenching their jaws as they began their cultivation breathing techniques, trying to absorb the power as quickly and safely as possible.
A low hum filled the air.
As they cultivated together, the Qi radiating from their bodies entangled and fused in the air, amplifying and compressing into an even more potent force.

Yeon Woo Jin hadn’t anticipated this phenomenon.
He knew immediately that if those energy currents entered their bodies unfiltered, they wouldn't be able to handle it.
He raised his hand without hesitation, stabilizing and guiding the energy flow.

Carefully, he redistributed the energy in alignment with each student’s cultivation level, ensuring it could be absorbed safely.
Soon, a deep tranquility washed over their faces, and one by one they slipped into a state of total focus.
Yeon Woo Jin smiled with satisfaction.

Their previously lacking inner energy would now be replenished.
And with it, their stagnated cultivation would leap ahead—by at least two full stars.
Jang Woon and Sunwoo Baek would break into Peak-Level, Five Stars.

The rest of the elite—depending on their comprehension and will—could reach Peak-Level, Five Stars, or stabilize at Four Stars.
Even the weakest among them, who had been hovering in the Seven or Eight-Star Transcendent Realm, would now push forward.
And the newest batch of lower division students? The quality this year had been unusually high.

Everything was unfolding exactly as Yeon Woo Jin had hoped.
 
****

The new semester had begun at Baekyeong Martial Academy.
In contrast to previous years—when most new students were weak and unremarkable—this time, an influx of powerful newcomers had arrived.
All drawn by Baekyeong’s reputation as the undisputed ruler of the South.

Among them were two unexpected names.
Eun Hwan, from the Shingi Gate, ranked twenty-fifth among Mushincheon sects.
And Song Ho Won, of the Hoseo Song Clan, ranked twenty-sixth.

Both of them had reached Peak-Level, Seven Stars—a stage higher than any of the students following Shin Dowoon.
But unaware of that, Shin Dowoon’s group began executing his orders: to take control of their assigned classes.
“I am Yeom Yura, third son of the Namak Gate—rank thirty-four under Mushincheon! I challenge the strongest in White Tiger Class. If you think you’re strong, step forward!”

Yeom Yura unleashed his presence without restraint, pressing the students into silence.
None dared to step up.
And then—

A boy casually stood, picking at his ear.
“Man… I was just trying to nap, and now someone’s throwing trashy energy around the room?”
“…Trashy energy?”

Yeom Yura’s brow twitched.
“And who the hell are you?”
The boy flicked his earwax to the side and replied lazily.

“Me? Song Ho Won, Hoseo Song Clan.”
“Hoseo Song Clan…?”
A murmur spread through the class.

“The Hoseo Song Clan? That’s a top-tier sect, ranked twenty-sixth!”
“With that rank, shouldn’t he be at Jungcheon? Or at least in the Northern Division with someone like Black Tiger?”
Yeom Yura heard the whispers too.

“Damn it. I didn’t account for this.”
There was no way someone from the Hoseo Song Clan was weaker than him.
“No—don’t back down. I’m strong too.”

After all, reaching Peak-Level, Six Stars at his age wasn’t something just anyone could do.
And the Namak Gate wasn’t exactly a nobody sect either.
He could take him.

Yeom Yura calmed his breathing and steadied his mind.
“I’ll just go ahead and name myself the top of this class,” Song Ho Won said flatly.
Yeom Yura twitched. “You don’t get to decide that. We haven’t even fought.”

“Why bother fighting? No point exhausting ourselves.”
“You won’t know until we compare lengths.”
“When the gap’s wide enough to see, measuring’s a waste of time.”

“Oh, I think we’ll need to measure.”
Song Ho Won smirked, raising one corner of his mouth.
“You really want to get your ass beat? Just take the easy way. Admit I’m stronger, and you won’t get hurt. I won’t have to move. Everybody wins. Sound good?”

Yeom Yura glared at him, seething.
“You sure talk big for someone about to get dropped. When you’re [N O V E L I G H T] bleeding and crying later, that fake cool act’s going to be even more pathetic.”
“Keh-heh. You’ve got a talent for pissing people off, huh? Fine. Special offer today: a full beating, just for you.”

“Funny. That’s my line.”
“Let’s go.”
“Yeah.”

 
****
Thud.

A bloodied figure collapsed to the floor, barely conscious.
Yeom Yura.
Song Ho Won didn’t emerge unscathed either—his breath ragged, his body bruised.

“Relentless bastard. Haa… really made me push it to the end.”
He’d expected someone weak—maybe Peak-Level, Three Stars, or Four at most.
But the guy had nearly matched him.

“This place isn’t anything like the rumors. I thought it was full of weaklings—I came here planning to coast through school at the top.”
Were there more like him in other classes?
He couldn’t say for sure.

“Goddamn. Nothing comes easy, huh? Why is living a peaceful life so damn hard?”
He was catching his breath when—
CRASH!

A body flew out of the training hall and crashed hard to the ground, unconscious.
It was Ho Jun, one of Shin Dowoon’s crew.
Through the shattered doors stepped a calm figure.

Song Ho Won locked eyes with him.
In that instant—without words—they both knew.
This man wasn’t below him.

“Shit… I’ve been played. This isn’t a den of weaklings—it’s a tiger’s nest. Who the hell are you now?”
“Me? I’m Eun Hwan. Just became the top of Black Tortoise Class, from the Shingi Gate.”
“Shingi Gate!”

Another sect on the same tier as his own.
“And you?”
“Just became the top of White Tiger Class. Hoseo Song Clan, Song Ho Won.”

“Looks like it’ll come down to us in the end.”
“Seems that way.”
“That guy wasn’t easy.”

“Neither were you.”
“Is this really the South? They say it’s the weakest region in Mushincheon, but it feels more brutal than the rest.”
“I was thinking the same.”

“…There’s no one stronger than you, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t know,” Song Ho Won replied. “I haven’t visited Vermilion Bird or Azure Dragon Class yet.”
Just as the two were talking, two more students burst in—Hakseo and Yeon Tae, both part of Shin Dowoon’s group.

“Yeom Yura!”
“Ho Jun!”
Each rushed to the side of their downed comrade, checking their condition.

“Who the hell are you?” Song Ho Won asked, narrowing his eyes.
Hakseo and Yeon Tae answered without hesitation.
“I’m the top of Vermilion Bird Class.”

“And I’m the top of Azure Dragon Class.”
Hearing their responses, Song Ho Won glanced at Eun Hwan and said, “I guess if the two of us fight, we’ll figure out who’s truly the strongest among the lower division.”
“Seems that way.”

The casual way they dismissed the others stoked the rage in Hakseo—but after seeing what they had done to Yeom Yura and Ho Jun, he knew better than to treat them lightly.
“You don’t get to decide who the top of the lower division is!” Hakseo shouted.
Eun Hwan turned toward him with a cold, cutting glare.

“Why? Want to end up face-down on the ground like the rest of them?”
“The ones who’ll be hitting the ground are you bastards, not us!”
“Hah. Still got energy left in that flapping mouth of yours? Let me shut it for you.”

Eun Hwan strode forward toward Hakseo, menace in every step.
“That’s enough.”
The voice came from behind—calm, low, but heavy with command.

Eun Hwan halted mid-step, visibly shaken. He turned his head slowly toward the source of the voice.
Standing there with hands behind his back and a serene smile on his face—Shin Dowoon.
“Dowoon!” Hakseo immediately ran to him.

“Yeom Yura and Ho Jun, they’re—”
“That’s enough. I saw.”
“…Okay.”

Shin Dowoon fixed his gaze on Eun Hwan.
“You’re pretty good.”
Eun Hwan didn’t answer right away.

His instincts told him everything he needed to know.
He couldn’t beat this one.
“…Who are you?”

Shin Dowoon’s smile deepened.
“Successor of the Shin Clan. Shin Dowoon.”
“The Shin Clan…!”

He froze.
That was one of the top-ranked martial houses in all of Mushincheon.
What was someone like him doing here?

He should’ve been at Jungcheon, not some southern academy.
“I don’t think I need to explain the difference in power between us—you can already feel it, can’t you?” Shin Dowoon said calmly. “So, what now? Still wondering who the top of the lower division is?”
Both Eun Hwan and Song Ho Won shook their heads without hesitation.

“Then say it yourselves—who’s number one?”
“Y-you are, Shin Dowoon.”
“I… agree.”

As the two lowered their heads in submission, Shin Dowoon’s smile widened with satisfaction.
“Good. Let’s get along from now on.”
“…Sure.”

“Yeah…”
Shin Dowoon was pleased.
To unify Mushincheon Martial Academy, he would need talent—and Eun Hwan and Song Ho Won were exactly what he needed.

And there were other promising students among the new recruits as well.
“When those two wake up, gather everyone. I’ll treat us to something. Call it a bonding exercise.”
“Got it.”

 
****
The next day – Azure Dragon Class.

A group of students had gathered around Shin Dowoon.
Today’s topic: the upperclassmen.
“What are we going to do about the seniors?”

“If they don’t move first, leave them alone for now.”
“Understood.”
“Alright, let’s go over what we know so far.”

“Currently, Baekyeong Academy’s strongest isn’t an upperclassman—it’s a mid-division student named Sunwoo Baek.”
“He’s at Peak-Level, Six Stars, right?”
“With a rank like that, he’s earned the title of Baekyeong’s top.”

“Still… isn’t it a joke that the top isn’t even an upperclassman?”
“What’s so funny? Our Dowoon’s a lowerclassman, and he’s going to become Baekyeong’s top.”
“Oh, right—ha! Good point.”

“And Sunwoo Baek’s cultivation is the same as Yeom Yura’s, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. If he’s Six Stars, Yeom Yura can take care of him.”
“Looks like we don’t even have to get involved.”

“Even if he’s improved during winter training, we can still handle it ourselves.”
Yeom Yura chuckled confidently. “Should I go finish it myself and hand the Baekyeong title over to you, Dowoon? How about that?”
Shin Dowoon smirked. “Planning to get knocked out and embarrassed again?”

“Th-that was just—”
“Forget it. Just show some respect to the seniors for now. We’ll all be part of the same family eventually. No need to burn bridges.”
“…Alright.”

They were enjoying a rare moment of levity—until someone in a mid-division uniform stepped into the room.
“Which one of you is Shin Dowoon?”
All eyes turned to him.

“That would be me.”
“Congratulations. I hear you’ve been crowned top of the lower division.”
“Well, it wasn’t exactly my plan. My boys took care of it themselves.”

The arrogance in his posture made the newcomer’s brow twitch.
“My name’s Jin Jo. I’m your senior. Try showing some respect.”
Before Shin Dowoon could answer, Yeom Yura swaggered forward.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, sir. Didn’t recognize you. Name’s Yeom Yura, top of White Tiger Class, at your service, senior.”
The fact that he delivered his lines with a bruised and battered face only made it more irritating.
Jin Jo’s expression darkened—but he held it in.

Yeon Woo Jin had told them to keep their tempers in check no matter what.
“R-right. Pleased to meet you,” he said, his tone coming out sharper than he meant.
Yeom Yura misread the tension completely, assuming Jin Jo had been cowed.

With a smug grin, he added, “So, senior… what brings you here, looking for our lower division’s top?”
“Baekyeong’s top student wants to meet him. Come with me.”