Ultimate Martial Venerable - Chapter 2

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 2. Two Stages in a Day
After a full hour passed, Yuk Beom opened his eyes.
The moment he pushed himself upright, his stiff joints crackled in rapid succession.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
Yuk Beom sat in the Snowy Field for a long while, staring down at his own hands. He’d been lying there long enough to be buried under snow, yet he felt no cold—not even fatigue.
If anything, his body felt lighter than before.
He clenched his fist, and strength flowed evenly all the way to his fingertips. The dull ache that had always pressed on one side of his chest was gone.

‘What in the world just happened?’

Yuk Beom brushed the snow from his clothes and got to his feet.
His last clear memory was Old Man O’s tavern. After drinking two bowls of Green-colored Alcohol, his body had burned as if aflame.
Everything after that was a blur.
He glanced back toward the tavern, then shook his head. It was possible his body felt light simply because he hadn’t fully sobered up.
He’d be better off heading home to rest.
As he passed through the gates of the Yuk Clan Estate, he heard raucous laughter from the front courtyard.
Yuk Myeong was showing Jang Wol Ham around the Garden, flanked by several junior members of the Yuk Clan who habitually trailed after him, watching his mood.
Yuk Beom tried to slip past them unnoticed.

“You’ve arrived at just the right moment.”

Yuk Myeong called out first, stopping him.
He stepped close beside Jang Wol Ham, deliberately raising his voice to ensure he was heard.

“One should introduce one’s cousin properly. This is Jang Wol Ham of the Jang Clan. You saw her at the examination grounds today, I’m sure.”

Jang Wol Ham lowered her head.
It wasn’t shyness. She clearly couldn’t bear to meet Yuk Beom’s eyes.

“Don’t you think they make a splendid pair?”

Laughter erupted from those gathered around at Yuk Myeong’s remark.
Yuk Beom turned without responding.
A stout young man blocked his path.
Yuk Cheon Gang.

A collateral branch member who was always at Yuk Myeong’s side—a cousin a year Yuk Beom’s senior.

“Someone’s speaking to you, and you’re just going to leave?”

Yuk Cheon Gang’s tone dripped with mockery.

“Did failing the exam make you deaf as well?”

Yuk Beom regarded him coldly.

“Get out of my way.”
“What?”
“Don’t make me say it twice.”

Yuk Cheon Gang’s face flushed crimson.
In the past, Yuk Beom would have averted his eyes or quietly backed down. But today, he met Yuk Cheon Gang’s gaze directly and commanded him to move.
Yuk Cheon Gang shoved him hard in the chest.
The force of a Fifth Realm Yeon-che Gyeong practitioner flowed through that palm.
Normally, the blow would have sent Yuk Beom staggering back several steps.
Instead, his upper body swayed only slightly; his feet did not leave the ground.
Yuk Cheon Gang’s expression froze.
Yuk Beom looked down at himself as well.
He’d absorbed the impact with his entire body, yet his chest didn’t ache. He hadn’t even consciously braced his feet, yet his body had automatically found its balance.

‘I held my ground?’

Yuk Cheon Gang raised his hand again, trying to mask his shock.
Yuk Beom stepped forward.

“Planning to hit me this time?”

His voice was low, but there was no sign of retreat in it.
Yuk Cheon Gang’s hand froze in mid-air.
Among the Ga Gyu of the Yuk Clan, the most stringent ordinance forbade striking the young descendants of the family without cause. If he struck Yuk Beom now—who had not yet turned eighteen—he would face at least a hundred days of house confinement.
As the eyes of those around them converged, Yuk Cheon Gang ground his teeth and lowered his hand.

“You should thank your luck today.”

He spat the words over Yuk Beom’s shoulder.

“At the Annual Rite, the Ga Gyu won’t be able to protect you. That day, I’ll make sure you never speak of training again.”

Yuk Beom did not answer.
He simply passed Yuk Cheon Gang and made his way to his quarters.
Behind him, Yuk Myeong’s voice followed.

“Leave it. No point getting punished over someone not worth your time.”

Laughter erupted.
Jang Wol Ham’s laughter was mixed in with theirs.
Yuk Beom’s steps faltered for a moment.
But he did not turn around.
Yuk Beom had been assigned quarters in an old Star Chamber far removed from the main house of the Yuk Clan Estate. It was hardly befitting the dwelling of a direct bloodline heir. Weeds choked the space beneath the walls, and every rain brought leaks through one corner of the roof.
Yuk Beom paid no mind to such things.
All that mattered was the Yeon Gong Stone standing in the center of the courtyard.

He stood before the stone and retraced what had just happened.
Yuk Cheon Gang, at Yeon-che Gyeong Stage Five, had pushed deliberately. Yet Yuk Beom had not yielded a single step.
The sensation that his body had changed was not mere delusion.

“I’ll know once I test it.”

Yuk Beom steadied his breathing and lowered his stance.
He extended his fist straight out.
Thud!
Stone dust scattered.
Yuk Beom’s eyes widened.
On the solid Yeon Gong Stone, the impression of his fist was etched clear—each knuckle visible, cracks spiderwebbing outward from the mark.
It was a mark that could never have been left by the strength of Stage Three of the Yeon-che Gyeong.
The Yeon-che Gyeong was divided into nine stages.
Stages One through Three were considered lower grade, Four through Six middle grade, and Seven and above upper grade.
Though the gap seemed small, there was a clear barrier between Stage Three and Stage Four. One who reached middle grade would possess such enhanced physical power that they could face four lower-grade practitioners alone.
Yuk Beom stared at his fist, then took his stance again.
This time, he poured every ounce of remaining strength into it.
Bang!
A deeper imprint gouged the Yeon Gong Stone than the first.
As Yuk Beom’s fingertips traced the hollow, his breathing grew ragged.
The realm that had not budged for years had climbed in a single leap.

“Yeon Che Gong, Fourth Layer…….”

Even speaking the words aloud, he couldn’t quite believe them.
Yuk Beom clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly. Heat bloomed in his chest.
He’d heard countless times that he lacked talent. The mockery that no amount of effort would matter—he’d grown accustomed to that too.
Yet he’d never given up.
And now, after all this time, his persistence was finally returning something, however small.
But one thing troubled him.
Each time Yuk Beom had advanced to a new stage of Yeon Che Gong before, his muscles had felt as if they were tearing—pain so severe he’d been bedridden for days on end.
This time, there was no such agony.
Though he’d lost consciousness in the Snowy Field, when he woke, his body felt more at ease than it had before.
The memory of the green-colored alcohol rose in his mind.

‘Could it be because of that drink?’

Just then, footsteps sounded outside the Star Chamber.
Yuk Beom quickly composed his expression.
The man who entered the courtyard was tall and broad-shouldered, a middle-aged figure who couldn’t yet have reached forty, though white already threaded generously through his dark hair.
He was Yuk Beom’s father, Yuk Ho.

“Father.”

Yuk Beom bowed respectfully.
Exhaustion lay heavy across his stern features.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

Though Yuk Ho was keeping his voice as level as he could manage, Yuk Beom already guessed what was coming.

“Please speak, sir.”

Yuk Ho found it difficult to begin.
After a moment of silence, he spoke heavily.

“A decision was made at the family council today. It’s been decided that any clan member who fails to reach a certain stage by the end of this cultivation period will be sent away to the provinces.”

It would be work managing the Yuk Clan’s shops and estates in smaller towns and villages.
There would be no shortage of food or livelihood, but the opportunity to remain and cultivate within the clan would essentially disappear.
Yuk Beom nodded calmly.

“I’d anticipated as much.”
“I’m sorry.”

Yuk Beom lifted his head.
Yuk Ho couldn’t quite meet his son’s eyes.

“It’s not your fault. It was I who insisted on teaching you martial arts despite your weak Gi Hyeol from childhood, even when the physicians said your body couldn’t bear it.”
“Father.”
“I know how hard you’ve worked.”

Yuk Ho’s voice cracked.

“And yet you’ve become the object of ridicule. If I’d found you a different path, at least you wouldn’t have suffered this humiliation.”

Yuk Beom’s fists clenched.
He’d taken the sigh his father had exhaled during the examination as disappointment.
But what Yuk Ho harbored wasn’t disappointment in his son—it was reproach for himself.

“It’s not your fault, Father.”

Yuk Beom shook his head slowly.

“I said I would learn martial arts. Everything I’ve endured until now has been my choice.”

Yuk Ho studied his son for a long moment.

“Then I want to know your true intention.”

He continued.

“If you wish to leave and make your way elsewhere, I will help you. I’ll send you to a castle with the finest prospects and entrust you with important commercial interests of the Yuk Clan. You’ll want for nothing in your lifetime.”

It was a stable life.
No more mockery, no more pounding the Yeon Gong Stone until blood came. He would be spared all of it.
Yuk Beom did not hesitate for even a moment.

“I’ll stay.”
“There’s barely a month left until the Yeon Je.”
“I know.”
“If you can’t produce results in that time, you may lose even the chance to choose.”

Yuk Beom looked at the cracked Yeon Gong Stone.
It bore the mark his own fist had made just moments before.

“I’ll do everything I can.”

Yuk Ho asked once more.

“You truly won’t regret this?”
“Even if I do regret it, I’d rather regret it after I’ve given my all than regret giving up.”

The hardness in Yuk Ho’s face softened slightly.

“Good. You need that kind of stubbornness to be my son.”

Yuk Ho drew a small Celadon Porcelain Bottle from his robes.
The moment Yuk Beom saw the bottle his father offered, his eyes changed.

“This is…….”
A Geup Ryok Dan.

Yuk Beom hesitated to reach out his hand.
Medicinal pellets were a different thing entirely from mixing herbs and drinking them. Only a Flame Practitioner could craft them, and even the lowest-grade pellets were difficult for ordinary people to so much as glimpse.

The auction house in Ganglim Castle saw perhaps one or two of them in a year, if that.
A single pellet was worth enough to purchase several well-situated shops.

“How could you obtain something so precious…….”
“You don’t need to know that.”

Yuk Ho pressed the bottle firmly into his son’s hand.

“Take it tonight. At the very least, it will help you draw out your strength.”

Yuk Beom looked first not at the porcelain bottle but at the white hairs that had multiplied across his father’s head.
He didn’t need to ask what his father had given up to obtain this pellet. He already knew.

“Father.”
“Don’t burden yourself with it.”

Yuk Ho reached out and tapped his son’s shoulder.

“I only did what I could.”

Yuk Beom gripped the bottle firmly with both hands.

“I won’t waste it.”

Yuk Ho gave a short nod and left the Star Chamber.
Yuk Beom remained standing in that spot until his father’s figure disappeared from view.
As night deepened, silence settled over the Star Chamber and its grounds.
Yuk Beom sat cross-legged in the center of the courtyard. There was only a single Geup Ryok Dan. He needed to elevate his physical condition to its peak before taking it, or the medicine’s efficacy would be squandered.
He regulated his breathing and slowly expelled the turbid energy from within his body.
Only when his mind had settled did he open the Celadon Porcelain Bottle.
A medicinal pill with a subtle fragrance rolled across his palm.
Yuk Beom swallowed the Geup Ryok Dan without hesitation.
The pill dissolved in his mouth and traveled down his throat like cold water.
In the next instant, pain bloomed through his body—as if thousands of ants were gnawing at him from within.
Yuk Beom’s brow furrowed.
Yet his posture remained steady.
Compared to the suffering he had endured through years of training, this was bearable.
Soon a scorching energy rose from his dantian.
The heat spread along his meridians to his limbs, burrowing deep into his muscles, bones, and organs.
It was a sensation similar to when he had drunk Old Young-yeom’s alcohol.
For a moment, Yuk Beom wondered at the connection, but he quickly pushed the thought aside.
Right now, accepting the medicine’s effects had to come first.
As the pain subsided, his body hardened rapidly. His lean muscles filled with strength, and his weakened vital energy began to circulate without obstruction.
Once Yuk Beom had absorbed the final surge of heat, he exhaled long and deep.
When he opened his eyes, the world appeared sharper than before.
He rose and stepped before the Yeon Gong Stone.
Twisting his torso, he thrust his fist forward.
Bang!
The hole that formed was far deeper than the mark he had left at midday. Stone fragments scattered in all directions, and thick cracks spider-webbed across half the Yeon Gong Stone.
A smile spread across Yuk Beom’s face.

‘This is not the strength of the fourth tier.’

He immediately made his way toward the Archive Hall.
Before the Archive Hall stood a small Black Stone, erected to measure a practitioner’s realm.
Yuk Beom surveyed the area before stepping in front of the stone.
As he thrust his fist, light flared across its dark surface.
――――――――――
【Black Stone Assessment】
Realm: Yeon-che Gyeong, Fifth Tier
Grade: Intermediate
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Yuk Beom gazed at the characters that had appeared for some time.
That morning, he had been at the third tier of Yeon-che Gyeong.
In a single day, he had broken through a wall he hadn’t crossed in years—twice over.
Yuk Beom slowly clenched his fist.
There was no longer any reason to bind himself to the limits others had set for him.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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