"What? What do you mean 'it's hard to say'?"
"Exactly that. While Yu-jun isn't particularly talented, he isn't beyond hope either. He has potential and he could strive to become a decent martial cultivator if he puts his mind to it."
"Really?"
"The problem lies in his resolve. Young master Yu-jun isn't as passionate about cultivating as most of us are. He fights simply for the sake of doing it. It's clear he doesn't wish to fight and that lack of conviction is what's stalling his progress. He could be a lot more advanced if his heart was in it."
Wooyun frowned when he heard those words. He had always assumed that although Yu-jun was lazy with his training, he still enjoyed fighting. To hear that he had no heart in it was a surprise. "Is that really possible? Can your martial arts be affected even if your heart isn't in it?"
That sort of mentality didn't make sense to Wooyun. As someone who hated math as a kid and hated to study in general, he still performed well even when his heart wasn't in it. Most of the things he did as a child like playing sports and taking piano lessons at his mother's request were things he hated doing but he still did well despite it. There were a lot of things people didn't like doing, but they did them anyway. Because they had an obligation to. To be the best even if they didn't want to be the best.
"Why wouldn't it be?" Eun-woo said, cutting through his thoughts. "For a profession as dangerous as cultivation, a person can't grow if they don't have the will to. Having such a weak resolve won't get you anywhere. Cultivation is all about heart and mentality. If your mind is weak, there's no way you'll be able to overcome the many obstacles one must face as a cultivator. It isn't something you can take lightly."
Eun-woo was right. Resolve in cultivation was deeply rooted in the philosophy that strength isn't just about skill or effort—it's about willpower. Cultivation isn't just about reaching new heights of power but about enduring the path itself. A cultivator's life is long in that it requires years, even lifetimes, of dedication, but it's also short in the sense that death is always a possibility. If you don't have the desire to walk this path with conviction, they will inevitably falter.
Wooyun had a thoughtful expression on his face as he listened to Eun-woo's musings. He explained that discipline alone is not enough. A person can force themselves to train, to fight, to endure—but if their heart is not in it, their growth will always have a limit. At some point, they will hesitate, doubt, or lose themselves to the pressure.
Cultivation is not like studying for an exam, where one can push through boredom or frustration and still succeed. It is a process that demands everything from the body, mind, and soul. If a cultivator does not enjoy what they are doing, if they do not find meaning or fulfillment in it, then their heart will waver when it matters most. And in this world, hesitation is a fatal flaw.
"Yu-jun is skilled," he acknowledged, "but he lacks a warrior's heart. He trains because he has to, not because he wants to. He thinks of fighting as something he must endure, not something he embraces. And that's why he will never reach his full potential. True mastery requires more than talent—it requires love for the art itself.
Even if Yu-jun becomes strong, there will always be someone stronger, someone who wants it more. In the heat of battle, when pain and exhaustion push a person to their limits, it is not talent that carries them through—it's resolve. A person who fights out of duty will hesitate when death stares them in the face. But a person who fights because they live for it will never falter."
Wooyun frowned when he heard this. Though he wasn't a fan of Eun-woo's incessant yapping, he knew the young man was right. Why risk your life for something you're not willing to sacrifice yourself for?
"You think you can do well at anything, even things you hate," Eun-woo told Wooyun.
"But that is only because you have not yet reached the point where it matters. When you stand before an opponent who wants to kill you, when your body is broken and your spirit is tested, your hatred will not carry you forward. But if you find something within it—something that drives you, something that makes it yours—then, and only then, will you grow beyond your limits. The greatest cultivators are not the ones who train the hardest but the ones who love what they do. Because only those who love their path will keep walking it, no matter how steep it becomes."
"I see. I guess I hadn't thought about it in that sense."
His gaze turned back to Yu-jun as his fight began. Faced against a lean, cocky youth with a wolfish grin, cracking his knuckles. The boy—Jin Tae-ho, according to the murmurs—was known for his speed and arrogance. Despite this being his first official fight, he had the confidence of someone who had fought many battles before. Yu-jun's face was expressionless. His usual smugness was gone and for the first time, Wooyun saw him as an actual person. Not just a character from a story.
His grip tightened around his sword. His stance was textbook—solid, disciplined, but lacking presence.
The match began at the sound of the horn. Tae-ho lunged first, his movement fluid as he aimed a quick strike toward Yu-jun's ribs. Fast—but predictable. Yu-jun shifted just slightly, the tip of his sword flicking up at the last second. Crack!
The impact landed clean across Tae-ho's wrist, sending his weapon flying from his grasp. The arena stilled. Even Wooyun, watching from the stands, blinked in surprise.
But the fight wasn't over. Tae-ho, teeth clenched, recovered quickly and charged bare-handed, trying to close the distance. A desperate move. Yu-jun didn't hesitate. He stepped forward, his sword striking down at an angle—perfectly controlled, but heavy with force. The blade struck Tae-ho's shoulder, sending him sprawling to the ground. A gasp rippled through the spectators. Yu-jun didn't even look winded. Tae-ho groaned, trying to push himself up, but Yu-jun's sword was already at his throat. The fight was over.
Silence hung in the air before the referee finally called it. "Winner—Yu-jun of the Kang Clan!"
Wooyun watched as Yu-jun stepped back, lowering his weapon without so much as a smirk of satisfaction. No gloating, no taunting—just silent acceptance of his victory.
"Interesting," Wooyun muttered under his breath. Though I still wish he lost.
Yu-jun had always been the bane of Seo-yoon's existence and Wooyun felt the same.
Every time Yu-jun did anything, it was always to hurt Seo-yoon. Whenever he would watch his sparring sessions with Eun-woo, it was always clear to him that he wasn't particularly passionate about martial arts. He never spoke about it, never showed excitement for it. But there was no denying it—his skill was real. His strikes were clean, his movements sharp. He had defeated his opponent with ruthless efficiency, no wasted motion. It made Wooyun wonder: if Yu-jun didn't love fighting, then what did he like? Was tormenting the female protagonist all he was good for?
As he pondered on that question, the fight started and ended. It was now time for the last fight of the first round.
Finally, the person everyone had been waiting to see stepped onto the stage—the prized jewel of the Yang Clan, Yang Kyung-min, otherwise known as the Celestial Jade of the Yang Clan. He moved with the effortless grace of someone born into greatness, his snow-white robes billowing slightly with each step. His presence alone commanded attention, his sharp features and piercing gaze carrying the weight of a reputation few could challenge.
His opponent, however, was not one to be underestimated. Opposite him stood Ho Ji-sang, known in the Phantom Blade Sect as the Phantom Fox. A man of cunning and deception, Ji-sang was draped in dark hues, the fabric of his robes shifting like mist under the arena lights. His eyes, half-lidded and unreadable, glowed faintly as he studied Kyung-min with the knowing smirk of a man who thrived in unpredictability. He was a master of illusions, a spiritual cultivator whose techniques had left even seasoned warriors second-guessing reality.
"So, we meet again Ji-sang." Kyung-min greeted, his tone light and airy.
"Unfortunately," Ji-sang grunted.
The smile on Kyung-min's face remained even when faced with his opponent's frigid attitude. "Friendly as always I see."
Ji-sang rolled his eyes. "Enough with the useless pleasantries. You won't be winning today young masterYang. I intend to show you the full force of the Phantom Blade Sect's powers." With that, he stepped back as he awaited for the match to begin.
Kyung-min let out a soft chuckle though his amusement didn't quite reach his eyes. He too stepped back as he pulled his long blade out of its sheath, ready to get this fight over with. Though he could tell how much Ji-sang had grown since their last fight, it still didn't change his attitude towards him. His powers that relied on illusions and deception were indeed powerful, but they were just that—illusions.
They could easily be broken free.